list.co.uk/festival Alan Warner | FESTIVAL FEATURES
an act. It’s existential. It’s existential Crelan. Like Frank Sidebottom.’ ‘A joke is a joke an we’re sick of them pal,’ she said. ‘No!’ Suddenly he yelled out in his Texan accent,
‘Aye,’ I agreed absolutely. ‘Not when you don’t exist any more though.’
*
Ewan McEwan was fairly hardy, cause he came round when we’re out on the water in the boat, near the middle of the loch. It was bit blowy for my tastes, gusts coming down the glen and out the dark at us, but needs must. Ewan came round quick, sat there in the wheelchair placed in the middle of our modest vessel. ‘Brilliant,’ Tidy said, ‘He’s woke up, it’ll be even better.’ ‘What are we doing out here? ‘Encore!’ I said. I stood up a bit unsteadily. ‘Are you not doing his lips?’ asked Tidy. ‘No love, I’m fed up with that. We need to get back in quick.’ I turned to Ewan. ‘I had to row out, I don’t want to use the outboard. Noise, Witnesses, you know? It was a hell of a pull out but we’re about in the middle now at the deepest part,’ I told him.
‘Crelan, a laugh’s a laugh but this is. Elaborate,’ he tried to move his arms but nae chance the way I’d lashed him in there. I had to steady myself to get a grip on the wheelchair. ‘Mind yourself,’ said Tidy. Using both arms I groaned and swung Ewan up in his chair and round over the gunwhale and I started to lower him slowly into the water at the side and the boat, being as considerate as I could. With the weight we tipped that way a good portion. ‘It’ll be a wee bit nippy,’ I warned him then I added much more harshly, ‘Tidy. Get over that side, keep on that side or we’ll coup.’
‘Aye but I want to see his face as he goes under.’ ‘Aye, well you can come to this side when I’ve him
properly in the water.’
‘Hoi. What are you doing man. Christ! It’s freezing. Take us back in,’ he yelped as the water came over the chair and soaked his thighs and the holster still strapped there. I told him, ‘At least you’re gonna die with your boots on,
Marshall Draw.’
‘Crelan are you nuts? This is dangerous. I give in. I quit
man, I give in. You got me good. Pull us back over.’ ‘Ah. No.’ ‘Crelan,’ He looked over now at Tidy, you could see her in the awesome blue gloom of the coming dawn. ‘Tidy, c’mon a joke’s a joke, I thought we had something going on?’
‘We’ve all gotta die sometime,’ Tidy said, ‘Aye. But you i rst.’ The wee anvil sat at my boot, lashed by ten foot of good, new shining chain to the bottom of the wheelchair; rope would eventually fester over time and bring him – or parts of him – l oating up again. With a grunt I dropped him and the wheelchair fully into the loch water and there was a splash as he went under, his long dark hair l oated on the top like glossy eels, but there were the inl ated tyres on the wheelchair and a huge air bubble had formed in beneath his big white cotton shirt, so he bobbed back up, looking me in the eye, spitting water from his mouth, ‘Crelan!’ He screamed. ‘The aeroplane.’ ‘What?’ I grabbed him, to hold him up. ‘What was on the wing of the aeroplane when the
pilots looked out?’ ‘The aeroplane? Och, do you guys never give up?’ ‘Aye, Hold back a minute,’ he took a big breath, ‘Guess what was sitting there out on the wing of the aeroplane?’ I frowned down at him. ‘Was it that damned pip-
spitting monkey?’
‘No man.’ He smiled, ‘Listen. The round tile was
sitting out there on the wing.’
‘Ohhh. That is really bad,’ I said and I let go of him but he kept l oating there, like a frogman expecting a hand up, so I hoiked the wee anvil onto the gunwhale. ‘But Biloxi, you need to know what went on in Biloxi.’ I turfed the anvil over and Tidy immediately stepped across to my side of the boat. Ewan l oated there four seconds longer, his forehead turned to me but the weight in that anvil man, it pitched him forward and with a suck he was whirlpooled down under like he’d been grabbed by a big water demon.
‘Wow! The buzz.’ I could hear Tidy’s helpless
breathing.
I seized the oars, got them back in the locks and starting pulling for shore. A good gust came and for a second it got in under the bow of the Zodiac there and we tipped a good bit backwards but then she slapped back down again and I heaved on. ‘This could capsize the night; I love you Crelan,’ Girl Called Tidy claimed, once more, sat facing me, both arms out to support herself, one hand had grabbed onto the fender rope.
I grunted and between heaves on the oars, responded, ‘I love you too lass.’ Then after a while of rowing I said, ‘I wondered what happened in Biloxi?’
14–25 Aug 2014 THE LIST FESTIVAL 29