Neglect is a Terrible Thing

Laurie Smith. His genderless forename and ubiquitous surname.

He lived below me.

His mother was a whore, working the docks

His father worked the buses

His sister peed the bed

Too young I learned what the word “neglect” meant

It was applied to him, not me

He would do anything for matches

We pushed it.

“Dae a shite furruz then”

We were in the bushes

We overcame his initial resistance

By increasing the tariff to 2 matches

Rather than one

He dropped his trousers and pants and squatted

We bent forward

Clutching our knees

Peering at his pale

Undernourished arse

“He cannae dae it!”

Alarmed at the prospect of no matches

He reached round and

I swear, for I saw it with my own eyes

He pulled the shite from his arse

It was one of the most shocking things I ever saw

Seeing him do this was a miracle

Because only a few years beforehand

I had almost killed him

That’s what happens sometimes

When you are neglected

He became a gillie and

One day I met him in the

Car park of the DIY store

His wife and two girls were with him

He had thick glasses and

Almost didn’t recognise me

I was so pleased to see him

Close with his family

Emerging from a beaten up car

He laughed

I always loved him

He would ride his bike down the hill

With his feet on the handlebars

Taking the sharp corner at the bottom

Sometimes with a wobble

I once saw him narrowly squeeze

Between the kerb and an oncoming delivery van

“That was a close one”

He said when he returned

But I need to deal with the time

I nearly killed him

I was 5

He was 4

My mum had taken pity on him

His mother was out whoring

While his father drove a bus

Leslie was locked out

It was raining

I’d been given a toy plane for my birthday

The tool, not the transport

Its moving parts were limited to a

Single screw holding the blade in place

Leslie had the strength to remove it

The blade fell out

As I picked it up I noticed

Fear flicker across his face

He always seemed so daring

But in that moment

He handed his power to me

I held the blade up and out

The gesture might have suggested

I was perhaps offering it to him

Or it could have been a threat

I enjoyed the ambiguity

He recoiled

I stepped forward

He stepped back

And so our unsettling dance began

Out of my bedroom

Down the hall

Until he was forced to open my front door

I stepped onto the landing behind him

We were on the second floor

In his panic

He made that classic movie mistake

And headed upstairs rather than down

It was high up there

He began to plead

My jaw was set

My gaze steady

The blade still poised

Menace rising from it

Like smoke from a cigarette

Abandoned in a red metal ashtray

With little option he climbed over the banister

I moved towards him

Forcing him to lean back as he clung to the metal railings

Slowly, I went for his left hand

When he removed it, I went for his right

What else could he do?

He jumped

I peered down

Through the railings

Watching as he landed with his legs astride the metal handrail

He was trying to grab it with both hands

To protect his most tender parts

For a moment I thought he had made it

But he bounced off

The impact of the blow left him unable

To muster any resources that may have

Protected him from the

Remainder of his descent to the

Concrete floor below

With a thud he landed

A brief gap ensued

A delicious, dizzying sense of wonder

Filled with his shock and pain

Slowly his first howl rose

A tsunami from his dislodged self

Unleashed by the wrong visited upon him

The solid, barren close amplified his cries

The railings hummed their sympathy

I retreated to my flat

“Where’s Leslie”, my mother asked

“He left”, I said, looking for a biscuit

After the biscuit

I ventured

Once more onto the landing and

Looked down

He was gone

I stuck my head around the close entrance

To check outside for him

He was sitting at the end of the path

Just then, his granny walked by

“What’s wrong with you," she asked

“I fell," he replied

“It’s sore”

“Your mum'll be home soon”

I heard her say and she walked on

Neglect. It’s a terrible thing.