Читать книгу Gents - Warwick Collins - Страница 10

Ez hung up his coat and hat. He put on his green overall. At the end of the room Reynolds was talking to Jason, outlining an object with his hands. Jason nodded in greeting to Ez over Reynolds’ shoulder.

Occasional customers moved back and forth from the urinals. Sometimes the door of a cubicle banged.

Ez picked up a pail with a small bristly brush and some cakes of disinfectant. In another bucket he had placed a pair of large tongs.

Approaching the urinals, Ez stopped at each one. Using the tongs, he lifted the old urine-streaked cakes of disinfectant and dropped them carefully into one of the buckets. Then he scrubbed the urinal with the bristly brush. When he had finished, he picked up a new cake of disinfectant and placed it in each urinal.

A tall, stooped man puffed softly with the effort of carrying a large shopping bag. He was standing crouched over himself like a question mark. Ez had to move around him.

Ez repeated the process on the next urinal. Removing the old cake of disinfectant, he began to scrub the enamel walls.

The man said cheerily, “New here?”

Ez finished scrubbing and reached for a cake of disinfectant. “Not long.”

The man said, pleasantly enough, “Always something new to learn, isn’t there?”

Ez nodded.

The man coughed, shifted in his space. He zipped himself up, then reached for the heavy paper bag.

Ez watched him walk through the turnstile. He went back to work.

During the break, Reynolds said to Ez, “You have a family?”

The three of them, Ez, Reynolds, and Jason, were seated at the table. Steam rose from their tea.

“A wife and kid,” Ez said.

“How old your kid?”

Ez blew across the surface of the tea. “Seventeen.”

Reynolds nodded. He sipped his tea, put it down, added another spoonful of sugar, then raised it and sipped again.

Reynolds said, “I got two.”

“That so?”

“Grown up now.”

Ez nodded.

Reynolds indicated Jason with his head.

Reynolds winked at Ez. Jason was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He seemed locked in his own thoughts.

Ez said to Jason, “Jason? Married too?”

Jason was quiet. Reynolds interceded. “Jason got two.”

“Two children?”

“Two wives,” Reynolds commented. He chuckled. Ez glanced toward Jason. Jason seemed as taciturn as ever, sipping his tea.

Reynolds said, “He leave one wife in Kingston. He come here. He marry another. Wife from Kingston also come. That why he turn Rasta.”

“Rasta?”

“Rasta can take more than one woman.”

Reynolds appeared mightily amused at this legerdemain. He joshed Jason affectionately.

“Ol’ Jason,” Reynolds said. “He flow where de wind flow.”

Jason gave a bemused smile.

In the silence, Ez sipped his tea.

Later that afternoon, Ez was washing down a lower part of one tiled wall adjacent to the urinals. He was down on one knee. Around him men walked past. As he cleaned he observed their ankles and shoes go past him. After a while he raised himself on both his knees and pressed his back with the palms of his hands against the nagging pain that occasionally affected his lower trunk. Slowly he moved his shoulders from side to side.

He started to work again, kneeling on a small rubber mat, using the scrubbing brush on the floor tiles closest the wall.

He was at a place where he could see under the wooden side screens of the cubicles. A door slammed softly, and a pair of shoes appeared in the nearest cubicle. Ez went back to his scrubbing. Doors opened and closed as individuals came and went.

When Ez looked again there were two pairs of shoes in the nearest cubicle, facing each another. As he watched, one pair of shoes turned the other way.

Ez glanced around him. He could see Jason at the farthest end of the room. Reynolds was in his office.

Ez stood up. He walked to the end of the room, where Jason was washing the floor, taking long, even sweeps with the mop. Against the background noise of the urinals – water flushing, the occasional door banging – Ez could hear the echo in his temples.

He tapped Jason’s shoulder. Jason withdrew the earplugs from his ears.

“What matter?”

He said to Jason, “Two in de nearest cubicle.”

Jason nodded, as if he had been told the time of day. He removed his gloves and set them down on the sink. He stepped towards Reynolds’ office and knocked softly on the door. He waited for Reynolds’ call and entered, closing the door behind him.

Ez glanced at the cubicle. It seemed, in the fervent silence, that it was vibrating slightly, like a washing machine, as though various pieces of clothing were being thrown against the side. Then the machine seemed to switch itself off, to utter a soft sigh.

Ez glanced in the direction of Reynolds’ office. He tried to make out the faint sounds of Jason and Reynolds in discussion.

A few seconds later Jason emerged carrying the heavy walking-stick. Ez followed him.

Holding the stick in his left hand, Jason struck the side of the cubicle with the flat of his right palm, two big slow hits. He waited a few seconds in the silence that gathered around him. He thumped once again. Silence thickened around the cubicle.

After a few moments Jason handed Ez the walking-stick.

Jason knelt down, lined his eye along the floor, and raised a hand for the stick. Ez passed it to him. Jason observed the position of the ankles inside the cubicles. Taking careful aim, he thrust the stick under the partition.

Ez watched him, bracing himself with one arm, kneeling on the floor tiles, sighting the stick like a rifleman, swinging it back and forth against the ankles inside.

“Come on,” Jason said. He was speaking softly, almost to himself. “Come on ouda dere.”

After a few moments Jason stood up and gestured to Ez to stand back. The door swung open. A man rushed out and headed for the turnstiles, leaning forward as though against a wind. Ez was aware of a hefty body like a barrel, of hair slicked back, of an almost animal-like power as the man snapped down the turnstile bar and then took the outer stairs two at a time upwards into the sallow light.

Jason winked at Ez.

Without warning, a second man followed, thinner than the first, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, walking briskly through the turnstiles. He left behind the expensive odour of cologne. Ez turned back to Jason.

“Givin’ de reptile de escape route, man,” Jason said. “Dem go like frightened eel.”

Ez was too surprised to comment. He merely nodded.

Afterwards, when the three of them were eating their sandwich lunches, Reynolds, in between mouthfuls, addressed Jason.

“You use the stick today, man?”

“Rattle one cage. Two reptile out, swimmin’ downstream.”

Out of curiosity, Ez said, “Why you callin’ dem reptiles?”

Reynolds ate and considered. “They cold, man. Don’t speak. One on one. You can’t get them off, like a dog with a bone.” He paused, sipping his tea. “Ask Jason. He expert.”

Jason smiled to himself and continued to eat. After a while Jason said, “All aroun’ here, men in office, speakin’ on telephone, telling secretary, firin’, hirin’, doin’ accounts, makin’ money, man. Put down telephone, walk out sometime, come in here.” He indicated the direction of the cubicles with a gesture of his head. “Meet another one in there.”

Jason paused after his homily. He took a bite, then added cheerfully, “All time, man. Every day.”

Ez looked at him, shook his head, and concentrated on eating his own sandwich. The other two ate as though famished. Martha had given Ez banana and pilchards, his favourite filling. It struck him then how odd was this blend of domestic arrangements with the subject matter in hand.

“You learnin’, man,” Reynolds said quietly. “You learnin’.”