Home » Christmas Poems , Stories and Winter Tales » I’m A Shepherd: a Christmas Story by Allan Wilson

I’m A Shepherd: a Christmas Story by Allan Wilson

I’m A Shepherd

and then he punches me in the face right.

                  Christ sake man, I said.

                  Hit me back, he says.

                  That was sore ya dick.

                  He pulls his arm back to do it again and I sort of just grab onto him and hold his arms down.

                  You punch me then, he says.

                  I don’t want to fight you.

                  We pals or not? He says.

                  I’d just met the guy that night, know what I mean. So I says, not really man.

                  You’re my pal? He says.

                  Not really I’m not, I said.

                  Why you saying that?

                  I don’t even know you man, I say

                  But it’s Christmas, he says.

                  I’m still holding him at this point by the way.

                  It’s Christmas day, he says.

                  It was as well. I hadn’t really realised but the guy was right. It had just passed midnight.

                  I says to him, see if I let you go, will you not punch me?

                  It’s nice like this, the guy says. And he rests his head on my shoulder.

                  So I let the guy go but he keeps holding on to me.

                  Lovely this int it? He says. Warm.

                  Uh hu.

                  Where do you stay? He says.

                  How?

                  I’m sleeping right here on this shoulder, he says.

                  My wife might be a bit perplexed if I walk in with you attached to me, I tell him.

                  And I try to take his arms off me but the guy holds on tighter.

                  Another wee minute, he says.

                  So I just leave it. And it was quite warm, you know so. And the guy wasn’t doing anything it was just a cuddle.

                  People never believe me, he says.

                  Naw?

                  Never ever.

                  Ach well man, I say.

                  You believe me though don’t you? He says.

                  If you want aye.

                  No idea what the guy’s talking about right.

                  How often do you go? He says.

                  I’m like that what? How often do I go where?

                  To church, he says.

                  I only go for fuckin Christenings and funerals you know so I says to the guy, I haven’t been properly since I was a wee boy.

                  Really? He says. That’s a sin.

                  And I don’t know if he means a sin as in, aw poor wee puppy, that’s a sin or as in a sin religiously.

                  Quite like my lie-ins on Sundays you know man. Bit of quality time with the wife. Trying to lighten the mood a bit you know.

                  My Mum and Dad were married, he says. Then he pats my back. Not me but, he says.

                  Maybe one day man, eh? I say.

                  And then he stops cuddling me and steps back. But he’s still holding my arms and I’m thinking, see if this old bastard swings for me I’ll headbutt the prick. It was that type of distance.

                  How do you mean one day? He says.

                  It’s never too late, I say.

                  He looks confused.

                  Internet dating, I say. You tried that?

                  It’s hard when you’re famous, he says.

                  And I start to laugh thinking he’s joking.

                  I’ve got a very high profile, he says.

                  And he isn’t laughing or anything. Pure deadpan.

                  What? He says.

                  Nothing man, I say.

                  Do you not believe me? He says.

                  Naw, I believe you but I just I mean I don’t recognise you but it’s not that I don’t believe you.

                  And then the guy starts going mental again. But I’ve been watching his arms so I see it coming and manage to fuckin deflect it and I grab the guy and sort of push him up against the wall and he’s hitting my back. But the cunt’s old.

                  See if you hit me again, I says.

                  Wee bastard, the guy says.

                  I manage to get his arms down at his sides and hold him like that

                  Look at my face, he says.

                  I look.

                  Recognise me?

                  See if you just tell me, I say.

                  And the guy looks at the sky.

                  Faither? He says. You listening to this fatiher? We’ve got another one!

                  Then he’s having a conversation wi the sky.

                  I canny say that to him faither, he says. Come on now faither. We don’t even know the wife.

                  Don’t talk about my wife, I said.

                  I’m not doing it faither, no way no how.

                  He looks at me.

                  My da’s a joker, he says. He takes it too far sometimes. You’ll know some of the stories eh? The flood and that.

                  Here I’m gonnae let you go now. See if you hit me I swear to fuck.

                  My Da was like that at the time, you’re a lucky man Noah. You’re a jammy beggar Naoh I’m telling ye.

                  I let him go and step back.

                  Don’t go yet, he says. It’s Christmas. It’s my birthday.

                  Aye well happy birthday.

                  Punch me, he says.

                  Fuck sake man.

                  I wil;ny hit you anymore, I promise.

                  Mate, I’m needing to get up the road.

                  What should I do for my birthday? He says.

                  I start walking away but I feel bad for the guy so I turn round and he’s fuckin talking to the sky again.

                  You canny just stay here mate, I says.

                  Guess what, he says. In two minutes there’ll be snow.

                  You got money for a taxi? I say.

                  My faither says in two minutes it’ll start snowing. Sometimes he winds me up though.

                  I go into my wallet and I’ve got a tenner left so hold it out to him.

                  Money doesny bring us joy, he says.

                  You should go up the road mate, I say.

                  My Da’s in a huff wi me, he says.

                  Aye well. You should try and sort it out once you get in. Here.

                  Get in, he says.

                  He looks at the sky again.

                  You feel that? He says. You feel the snow?

                  It wasn’t snowing but I just said aye anyway. I put the tenner down on top of yellow box thing outside the pub. You know that one for grit or whatever. Aye, I stick the cash on top of that and say to the guy that if he wants it it’s there and that I’m away.

                  Faither! He says. I just promised I wouldny hit him again! I promised the man faither.

                  I look back to make sure he’s not coming.

                  I canny, he says.

                  What?

                  My Da says I need to batter you.

                  Tell your da to shutup.

                  If I don’t batter you he’ll do something bad to us all.

                  Aye well, let the cunt.

                  This is when he flies for me again. See for an old guy man, he was a fuckin mover man. I dodge out the way and he flies past.

                  I’ll batter him Da! I’ll get him, he says.

 He turns and goes for me again and I stick my foot out. Boof, guy goes flying. Batters into the wall and just lies there face down. I went over and shook him but he’s not moving.

                  Mate? I says.

                  Cunt’s KOd.

                  I’m like that fuck, I’ve killed the guy. I’ve actually fucking killed him. And member how when I did that first aid course? I was trying to remember the recovery position. I’d killed a pensioner. On Christmas day. And I went to turn him on his side and when I’m looking at him it starts snowing right. Pure heavy snow. I get the guy on his side and he’s breathing at least and I’m like that Mate? Mate?

                  See when the snow hits his face he wakes up. And after a second he smiles at me.

                  See? He says.

                  I handy noticed the snow until then.

                  Good job faither! he says. God job! White Christmas faither! Good job!

                  I help the guy up.

                  Look at the that? He says. You believe me now?

                  I’ll need a bit more than that mate, I say.

                  Faither! He says. He doesny believe us!

                  I go like that, Listen man, do us a favour and get yourself a taxi. I’ll phone it for you.

                  A flood faither! He says. Make it another flood! And he starts laughing. Naw, naw, he says. Just him, leave the rest of them alone. Don’t harm the wife.

                  I’m wanting to leather the guy but I think leave it man, he’s in a bad way. I’m walking off and he shouts something then I turn round and the cunt’s on me again. Punching the back of my head and stuff. I’m like for fuck sake, gonnae just leave me alone ya old dick?

                  I grab his arms again and push him against the wall. Cunt starts cuddling me.

                  You’re off your nut, I say.

                  He willny let go.

                  I bend the cunt’s fingers back to get him off and he tries to start hitting me again.

                  I’m trying faither, he’s saying. I’ll get the bastard!

                  Calm yourself, I say.

                  I’ll kill him faither, I’ll fucking kill you ya bastard!

                  He gets one of his arms free and fuckin lands one on my nose. And I think right fuck this, pensioner or not. And I crack the guy. Goes down, crumples. I sit him up against the door. Guy opens his eyes for a bit and looks at me.

                  Think i’m scared of you? he says.

                  Sleep it off ya maddy, I say.

                  Know where I was born? He says. In a manger.

                  That’s lovely man, aye.

                  I’m a shepherd, he says.

                  I leave him there and boost. I phone a taxi for the guy and walk up the road in the snow. See when I got in right, I told Annie all about it. But she was sleeping and she told me to be quiet, I was too drunk, tell her in the morning. I couldn’t sleep. I was just lying there all night. Wide awake. I couldn’t stop worrying about the guy. And then eventually I thought fuck it, he’s got that far in life, what difference would I make on it? And I’m trying to get to sleep but every time I shut my eyes I keep seeing a flood. And I see me and Annie getting lifted by a big fucking wave and getting carried along in our bed and drowning. And I was like, fuck, we’re going to die. It had stopped snowing and it was raining now. Heavy as fuck. I was like shite, this guy is gonna kill me and Annie. I almost woke her up to say we needed to leave. Then see the next day, I must have dozed off a bit you know, cos I wake up at one point and it’s light outside. And see in the sky, there’s this fuckin blazing sunshine. Like a Summer’s day. And all Christmas day it stayed sunny. And I looked at Annie sleeping there and thought, thank fuck, you know. Thank fuck. And I thought to myself, that guy man, what a mad fucking guy.

Allan Wilson, (Deember, 2013)

This section: Christmas Poems , Stories and Winter Tales