Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 Read Free Page B

wid’ve thrown the scent aff ae The Mankys and oan tae the polis, who wur aw well-known in the Toonheid as being thieving basturts anyway.
      “Bit, Skull, Ah thought ye wur supposed tae be heiding hame that night, efter walking up the road wae me fae Paddy’s?” Johnboy challenged him.
      “Ah wis, bit Ah goat caught up wae Flypast.  As well as showing me his new doos, he telt me the story aboot ma da and how they Murphys set aboot him o’er the heid ae him refusing tae sell The Big Man wan ae the original Horsemen, when Ah wis a wee snapper.  Ah couldnae leave withoot hearing the full story ae whit hid happened.”
      Johnboy sat wae his back against the white tiled wall, looking across at whitever the fuck it wis in front ae him.  Skull stared straight back.  He wis still wearing his fitba boots, the wans wae the white soles and worn-doon studs, troosers that wur far too big fur him, held up by a snake belt, and his da’s auld Partick Thistle jersey that wis never aff ae his back.  Something wis missing.
      “Whit’s happened tae yer Celtic tammy, Skull?”
      “Ma tammy?  Ah hivnae a clue.  Ah’ve been searching aw o’er the place fur it.  None ae youse wid hiv it, by any chance, wid ye?” Skull asked hopefully.
      Johnboy sat, no saying anything.  His brain wis aw o’er the place.  He kept coming up wae a question, wid hesitate and then no ask it.   There wis so many things he wanted tae ask.  Skull took advantage ae the silence tae come and sit cross-legged in front ae him, close enough fur Johnboy tae touch the strawberry jam fish-shaped stain that wis still clinging tae the front ae the Partick Thistle jersey.  It hid landed there when it hid oozed oot ae the sliced breid piece that Skull hid blagged oot ae Crisscross and his Salvation Army wife, Fat Sally Sally’s kitchen oan the night The Mankys tanned their hoose and stole aw her collection money fur the Feed The Hungry Weans oot in Africa campaign.  Johnboy hid a strong urge tae lean o’er and gie Skull’s chest a wee prod wae a finger, jist tae see if he wis real, bit decided nae tae bother.  Skull might look like the son ae Mr Magoo, bit he wisnae wan tae mess aboot wae if he turned nasty, so Johnboy kept his fingers tae himsel.  Johnboy’s brain wis struggling tae make up its mind whether it wis actually Skull who wis sitting there or whether Johnboy hid finally cracked up and gone doo-lally.  He wis dying tae ask Skull the obvious question, bit he kept hesitating, no sure that he really wanted tae know.  He sensed that Skull knew that, because he jist smiled back at Johnboy wae that familiar glint in his eyes that he put oan when he wis challenging somewan tae hiv a go at him.  Despite his best efforts, Johnboy felt the tears starting tae well up in his eyes.
      “Skull…how auld ur ye noo?” he croaked, swiftly wiping they eyes ae his wae the sleeve ae his aulder brother Charlie’s good shirt, the wan his ma hidnae pawned because ae his court appearance, hoping Skull widnae notice him bubbling.
      “Ten.”
      Silence.
      “Ah’m thirteen,” Johnboy finally murmured, embarrassed…feeling guilty fur some reason.
      “Aye, Ah know,” Skull replied quietly, shrugging they skinny shoulders ae his as he looked straight intae Johnboy’s soggy eyes. 
      Aw ae a sudden, and much tae Johnboy’s relief, Skull brightened up and changed the subject.
      “Wis yer ma up at court the day?”
      “Aye.”
      “Is she still as mental as fuck?”
      “Worse.  Her and aw they pals ae hers ur still battling wae The Corporation.  Ah came across her sitting greeting tae hersel a couple ae days before Ah wis slung oan remand.  Well, she wisnae exactly howling or anything like that.  It wis mair like…like…ye know that scene where Paul Newman gets the letter tae say that his ma’s deid in the film ‘Cool Hand Luke’, and The Captain, who’s a right evil basturt, slings his arse intae the punishment box