Buddha Da (2 page)

‘Right, Rinpoche, this is it. Anne Marie, you stay in the van.’

‘Da, ah’m comin with yous. Ma ma said …’

‘Look, hen, it’s for your ain safety. Just in the unlikely event of there bein any bother.’

‘I think she should come, Jimmy,’ said Sammy. ‘If the parents see that you are also a father, they will be more likely to listen to you.’

Ma da nodded. ‘Aye, see whit you mean, Lama. But just keep yer mooth shut, wee yin.’

‘Aye, Da.’

A wumman opened the door.

‘We’re here tae see the baby,’ says ma da.

‘Oh, aye, come on in. She’s sleepin the noo. Ah’m Sharon’s mammy, she’s just gone oot tae the shops, she’ll be back soon. Sorry, son, ah don’t think ah know you, you’re …?’

‘Jimmy McKenna.’

She set aff doon the lobby wi us followin on behind. She paid nae heed tae the lamas, just kept chunterin on.

‘You’ll be a pal of Tommy’s, then? Ah’m lossin track of who everybody is. This place has been like Central Station all week, ah cannae believe the number of folk that have been tae see this wean. Ah’d forgotten whit it wis like when the first wan’s born. Aw the lassies fae Sharon’s work came roon yesterday – therteen of them there wis, you should of seen the presents they brung. That wean’ll get spoilt rotten. At least tae the next wan comes alang. Sharon’ll no know whit’s hit her then. She thinks this is hard work. Wait tae she’s had four or five – her man’ll no even bother tae visit her.’

She opened the door of the livin room and we trooped in. In the middle of the flair wis a Moses basket, draped in pink frilly covers.

‘Whit did they cry the wean?’ says ma da.

‘Olivia,’ says the wifie.

‘Olivia. At’s nice.’

‘Aye, it’s a nice enough name but ah don’t know how
they couldnae have cried her efter sumbdy in the faimly. Still, young yins nooadays, dae things their ain way.’

‘How auld?’

‘Wan week the day.’

We all stared at the baby, well no at her exactly since you could only see a glimpse of skin between the frilly stuff and a wee white hat. Ah wondered when ma da was gonnae start his speil aboot the wean bein the new lama. He shuffled fae wan foot tae the ither, lookin at the lamas, who stood smilin at the wean in the cradle.

Then she opened her eyes and looked at us. Ah’ve never seen a newborn baby afore and ah thought they couldnae focus, yet this wee yin looked straight at us as if she knew everythin, could see right through you.

‘Bright as a wee button, in’t she?’ says the granny.

‘That wean has been here afore,’ ma da says solemnly.

At this, the wee lama pipes up. ‘Yes, he is the reincarnation of the twenty-ninth lama of the lineage of the Gyatso Luckche dynasty.’

The wifie nods at him. ‘Whit’s he on?’

‘It’s a bit complicated. You see, they’re lamas, fae Tibet. And wee Olivia, has been picked by them tae … well, she’s very special.’

‘You can say that again,’ says the granny. ‘She’s a beautiful wean, right enough, good as gold. Never cries.’

‘His nature is like the bright sun. One of the signs,’ says Ally.

‘But whit is it she’s been picked for? Sharon wis gonnae enter her for that
Evenin Times
Beautiful Baby competition, but ah don’t think the closin date’s tae next week.’

‘Well, no, it’s no exactly a beauty competition. It’s mair … spiritual beauty.’

‘Spiritual beauty?’ The wifie looked at the lamas, her eyes narrowin a bit.

‘His spirit is clear like running water,’ says Hammy, and the others nodded.

‘Haud on a minute. Whit’s gaun on here? Who are these guys?’

‘They’re lamas, holy men.’

‘Are yous anythin tae dae wi the Mormons?’

‘Perhaps, Jimmy, you could explain the lineage of this beautiful boy whose eyes are like stars which will light the world.’

Ah wis beginnin tae get fed up wi this stuff.

‘Perhaps, Da, you could explain tae the lamas that a wean in a cot wi pink frilly covers isnae a boy.’

‘Not a boy?’

‘Naw, Rinpoche, it’s a wee lassie, Olivia … ah thought you … surely it disnae make any difference?’

Ally shook his heid. ‘I’m very sorry, Jimmy, but the baby we are looking for is a boy.’ He turned tae the wifie and bowed. ‘We are very sorry but this baby is not the one. Please accept our blessing.’ He took his prayer beads and waved them above the wean’s heid, mutterin some stuff ah couldnae unnerstaund, then the lamas turnt roond and heided towards the door. At this point Olivia decided she’d had enough and let oot a roar.

‘Haud on, whit d’yous think you’re daein? You’ve made the wean greet, wavin they rosary beads in her face.’

She turnt tae ma da. ‘And as for you, ah don’t know whit the hell you’re up tae but it’s no funny. Tommy’ll kill you if he funds oot – he’s a good Protestant, so he is.’

‘Let’s get ooty here, Da.’ Ah startit tae push him up the lobby. ‘Sorry, Missus, he didnae mean any herm.’

* * *

Ma da wis awfy quiet on the way back in the van. Ah thought the lamas would be dead disappointed that the wean wisnae the new lama but they never seemed that bothered, went on wi their prayin as though nothin had happened. Ah wis startin tae unnerstaund how ma da had been that taken wi the lamas; there wis sumpn aboot them, they were that cheery and smiley that you couldnae help likin them. But wan thing bothered me.

‘Rinpoche, can ah ask you sumpn?’

Sammy paused in his prayin and turnt roond fae the fronty the van. ‘Of course.’

‘Know how thon wean wisnae the new lama – is that because yous had been tellt it definitely wis a boy this time, or does it have tae be a boy?’

‘The lama is always male.’

‘Is that no a bit sexist?’

‘Shoosh, hen,’ says ma da. ‘It’s different for them.’

‘How’s it different?’

‘You don’t unnerstaund.’

‘How am ah gonnae unnerstaund if ah don’t ask?’ Ah turnt back tae Sammy. ‘Ah mean, yous went harin aff lookin for him in Carmunnock. Yous were dead certain aboot it, but the minute yous fund oot the wean’s a lassie you’re oot the door. Suppose Olivia is the new lama?’

‘Only a male child can be the successor to the lineage. It is our tradition.’

‘That’s no a reason. That’s whit they said aboot no lettin lassies on the fitba team at school but when Alison’s ma wrote tae sumbdy on the cooncil they had tae let us play. And ah’ll tell you sumpn, the team wins a sight mair often since there’s lassies on it.’

‘Look hen, this is no the same thing. Just leave it the noo, eh?’

‘But, Da …’

‘Anne Marie, ah said leave it.’

Ah wanted tae go on but ma daddy sounded mair weary than anythin so ah shut up. Anyway, there wisnae much point in arguin wi the lamas, they just kept smilin and clickin away at their prayer beads.

But ah couldnae let it go in ma heid. Ah knew it wisnae right and ah think in his hert ma daddy knew as well and that was how he wis quiet. Thon time wi the fitba team, ma da wis right behind us. He wis the wan that taught me tae play in the first place. Ah decided tae talk tae him on his ain, later.

THE GARDEN OF
the cottage was a real suntrap. Never a breath of wind and a bench sat right where it caught the sun all day. We’ve been comin here the first week of July for years and always been dead lucky with the weather. Jimmy, Anne Marie and me always went abroad as well but Mammy doesnae like flyin and it’s a chance for her tae get a break.

Ah watched her carry the tray doon the stairs, concentratin on every step; there was a slight blur round her haund – wasnae sure if it was the sun playin tricks or if they really were shakin. Mammy’s only sixty-three and up till a few month ago was as fit as a flea, but she had a wee turn just in April there, and she’s no been hersel since.

She sat doon beside me on the bench and put the tray on the white plastic table.

‘This heat would melt ye.’

‘Well, it’s gonnae melt they chocolate biscuits in two seconds flat.’ Ah nodded at the plate piled high wi Jaffa Cakes. ‘How many are you plannin tae eat?’

‘Ach, ah was thinkin Jimmy and Anne Marie would be here.’

‘They’re still at the beach.’

Ah lifted the plate and took it inside tae the cool of the kitchen. The chocolate was startin tae melt already. Ah left three of the biscuits on the plate and put the rest in the biscuit tin. When ah went back ootside Mammy was flickin through a magazine.

‘Would you look at the price of that jumper?’ She pointed tae a multicoloured crocheted thing hingin aff the model’s shoulder. ‘Four hundred and eighty-five pound – and she’s layin aboot on a beach gettin it covered wi sand.’

‘Looks like wanny they cushion covers Auntie Betty used tae crochet. Pity she’s no still around – ah could of got her tae make me wan – be dead trendy on the beach.’ Auntie Betty was Mammy’s aulder sister – she’d passed away three year ago.

‘Aye, Betty was lovely at crochetin.’

‘Aye, Ma, pity she was colour-blind.’

Auntie Betty used tae make squares in hideous mismatched colours then sew them thegether intae cushion covers and blankets. Mammy’s hoose was full of them.

‘Aye, well, whoever crocheted thon jumper must of been colour-blind too – and look at the money they’re gettin for it.’

‘Suppose so. But it’s the designer that gets the money – the poor sods that make them probably get paid buttons.’

Mammy put the magazine on the bench and lifted the
mug of tea tae her lips. Ah took a sip of mines but it was too hot for tea; ah felt as if it was stickin tae ma tongue. Ah picked up the magazine and turned tae an article aboot mobile phones.

Mammy looked over ma shoulder. ‘Thought you’d just bought a new wan?’

‘Ah did. But ah’m thinkin of gettin wan for Anne Marie. It’s only four weeks tae her birthday.’

‘A phone? At twelve?’

‘Ah know. At first when she asked me ah said no. But then ah thought it was actually a good idea. She’ll be at secondary next year – and if she’s got a phone at least ah’ll know she’s safe.’

‘Whit does Jimmy think?’

‘He thinks it’s daft but you know Jimmy – whatever Anne Marie wants she gets in the end.’

‘Aye, lassies can aye wind their daddies round their little fingers.’

‘And to be fair, Anne Marie doesnae really ask for much, no when you hear aboot some of them.’

‘Naw, she’s a good lassie.’

‘These pay as you go wans are dead cheap and you cannae run up bills on them. But don’t say anythin to her.’

‘Ah’ll no. It’s hard tae believe she’s twelve this year. It’s amazin how the time flies.’

‘You’re tellin me.’

Ah left Mammy at the hoose and went doon tae the beach. Jimmy had built an enormous sandcastle, wi turrets and a moat, and Anne Marie was decoratin it wi shells.

‘Yous’ve been busy.’

Ah started tae pick up shells, toty pale pink and lilac conches buried in the sand. ‘Here. How aboot these?’

‘Thanks, Mammy. Ah’ll put them round the turrets.’

‘When you’ve finished we’d better get up the road – remember we’re gaun oot for wer dinner the night.’

‘Plenty of time.’ Jimmy pulled aff his tee shirt. ‘C’mon, who’s fur a swim?’

‘Ah’ve no got ma swimsuit on.’

‘So whit? Race yous.’

He ran across the beach, Anne Marie and me followin, mair slowly; it’s too hard tae run on sand, the wee bits of shell and seaweed jag intae yer feet if you don’t take the time tae pick yer way between them. Ah stood at the edge of the water, dippin ma toes in the ripples, then Jimmy started tae splash me and ah splashed him back and the next thing ah knew ah was soaked tae the skin. Ah moved further intae the water; it was freezin and ma shorts and tee shirt felt heavy and clingin round me but the sun was burnin ma heid and ah could hear the seagulls cryin. The sand sloped away suddenly and ah stood waist high in water. Jimmy grabbed me, liftin me high oot the water then doon and ah caught ma breath for a minute and shut ma eyes, feelin the cauld water and the heat aff the sun and the nearness of him all at once. He jumped me again, pushin me high in the air then lettin me doon again, and the two of us stood there, just lookin at each other. Him silhouetted against the sun, his face dark and his hair glintin bright and he was laughin.

Ah peeled aff ma wet claes, chucked them intae the washin basket and jumped under the shower. It was roastin and ah turned the dial round tae make it even hotter, staundin there wi ma eyes shut, feelin the heat surround me. Ah could hear
music – must be in the next room but it was muffled as if it was far away and ah could just make it oot. ‘Material Girl’. Anne Marie was obsessed wi Madonna.

Ah dried masel, wrapped ma dressin gown round me and opened the bathroom cabinet. A box of Tampax fell oot and skited across the flair. Ah picked it up and stuck it back on the shelf. Ma period had finished two days ago and ah’d need tae remember tae start takin ma pills again the night. Ah sat doon on the toilet seat and opened a bottle of body lotion, smoothed it over ma legs.

‘One fish pie, one lemon sole, one fish tea and one scampi and chips. That it?’

‘Aye, thanks.’

The waitress was a young lassie aboot seventeen, fair hair tied back in a pony tail. She looked at us, nodded, then heided aff intae the kitchen.

‘It’s warm in here, isn’t it?’

‘Aye, you could mibbe take your cardi aff, Gran.’

‘Ah’m fine.’

It was mobbed as usual. The restaurant was at the back of the pub and there were always folk waitin in the bar for a table.

The lassie came back wi our drinks.

‘Do you want the tea now or will you wait till after your meal?’ she asked Mammy.

‘Ah’ll have it the noo, hen.’

Anne Marie footered aboot wi her straw. ‘Ah’m starvin.’

‘The food’ll be here soon. They’re always dead quick in here.’

At the next table there was a faimly wi a couple of weans. Wan looked aboot six and was colourin in a picture, his face
intent on whit he was daein. The other was in a high-chair, eatin chips, coverin hissel and everythin round him in tomato sauce. He seen me lookin at him and gied a big grin.

‘You forget what it’s like at that stage, don’t you?’ ah said.

‘Whit stage?’ Jimmy looked round. ‘Oh, aye.’ He dug Anne Marie in the ribs. ‘Ah mind when mair of your dinner ended up on ye than in ye, hen.’

Anne Marie made a face. ‘Aye well at least ah don’t dae it noo – you should see yersel eatin tomato soup.’

We got back fae the meal in time for Mammy tae watch
EastEnders
– ah think the world would end if she missed it. While she sat clocked in fronty the box, me and Anne Marie went on wi the jigsaw puzzle. Wanny they holiday traditions – ah’d nae mair think of daein a jigsaw at hame than fly in the air, but every year afore we came here, ah went tae Woolies and bought wan. It was set oot on the table in the livin room and everybody done it; got quite obsessive sometimes – you’d find yersel sittin up skelly-eyed, tryin tae finish it afore you went hame. This year’s was a cottage wi a thatched roof and roses round the door. It had a duck pond in front of it and that was hellish – wanst you’d got the ducks the rest of it all looked the same, water like glass.

When the programme finished Mammy switched aff the TV and came and sat at the table. She started pickin oot dark green bits. ‘Must be the hedge.’

‘Or the grass at the bottom.’

‘Too dark. By the way, where’s Jimmy?’

‘In the bedroom,’ ah said.

‘Meditatin,’ said Anne Marie.

‘He done it last night.’ Mammy fitted a piece of hedge in, then took it oot again. ‘That’s no it.’

‘He does it every night, Gran.’

‘Every night? How?’

‘He likes it,’ said Anne Marie.

‘He’s sumpn else.’

‘Each to his ain,’ ah said.

‘Aye, said Anne Marie. ‘Some folk like meditatin, some prefer
EastEnders
.’

The rest of them were in bed but ah was still up, daein that flamin jigsaw puzzle. There was fifteen bits of pond in front of me, all lookin exactly the same. Ah’d stick two of them thegether, then try them the other way round. Worked either way but then ah couldnae get any of the other pieces tae fit. Ah looked up at the clock. Midnight. Must be gaun daft – what difference did it make if it got finished or no?

Ah sat back in the chair, stretched ma airms above ma heid. Jimmy’d went up an hour ago but ah wasnae sure if he’d be asleep. Ah knew we should talk but ah kept puttin it aff. This meditation stuff. It was all very well me sayin tae Mammy it was just sumpn he done, as if it was like gaun tae the footie, but it wasnae. Ah didnae know why he done it or what it meant tae him. It just wasnae like him tae want tae be on his ain. Usually it was the other way round – me tryin tae get a bit of peace and him the wan that never shut up.

Ah went intae the bathroom, took cleanser oot the cabinet, squeezed it ontae a bit of cotton wool and rubbed it over ma face. Ah lifted the pack of pills and stood lookin at them. And a picture came intae ma mind; the wee boy in the high-chair, smeared wi red, smilin at me and the other wan, quiet, colourin in.

Nearly every month ah done this, looked at the pack, thought aboot talkin tae Jimmy. Mibbe ah shouldnae bother, mibbe ah should just chuck them in the bin and let nature take its chance.

Ah stood there for a minute, lookin at the days printed under each wee bubble on the pack. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Wednesday. Ah pushed the plastic casin till the pill popped oot, then put it in ma mooth.