Kes Page #5

He don't do nowt.

- How d'yer mean?

- Last time, he got stick an' all.

Shut up, will tha? I'm sick of hearin' yer.

When he came,

they were laughin' at him.

- Yer what?

- Yeah. Weren't they?

Don't say that about my father, right?

He's not gonna beat me, anyhow.

- What do you want?

- I've got a message for Mr Gryce.

Better wait in the queue, then.

He likes to keep yer waitin'.

He thinks it makes it worse.

He can keep me till four o'clock.

I'm not bothered.

l'd rather the cane than do lessons.

Come here, you.

Save us these till after

we come outta Gryce's.

He'll think I'm a smoker.

He'll not search you but he'll search us,

and if he finds 'em, we'll get two extra.

- I don't want 'em.

- You want some fist instead?

- You want to take them?

- You'd better, lad.

OK. But if I get caned,

you give me something.

Aye. Some fist if yer don't.

'Ey up, he's here - Gryce Pudding.

Single file.

Right. You lost, lad?

- Please, sir, I'm going...

- On yer way, form room.

You lot, inside.

Same old faces.

Same old faces.

Ten years this school's been opened,

and ten years have we seen, after

every assembly, a line of boys here,

and the same old faces.

- Sir, I've got a message...

- Shut up. Don't interrupt. Close the door.

I've taught in this city for over 30 years.

I taught some of your parents -

your father, MacDowall -

in the old slum schools in the city,

before they built this fine estate,

and this wonderful school.

Things are no better now

than they were then.

I just can't understand this generation.

I thought I knew something

about young people.

I should be able to,

you know, with my experience.

But with you, no.

lt just seems a complete

waste of money and a waste of time.

And it's a waste of time

talking to you now.

- You're not listening, are you?

- Yes, sir.

You're not! Crossland,

you're not listening, are you?

- I am, sir.

- None of you are listening!

Look at that glazed expression

on your faces.

You never listen!

Yours is the generation that never listens!

Cos we can never tell you anything.

You're the sophisticated ones,

with all your music, and your gear.

But, you know, it's superficial.

It's a sheen.

There's nothing solid

or worthwhile underneath.

And why do I know this?

Why do I know there's been

no advance in discipline or decency,

or morals or manners?

Why do I know it? Because I still

have to use this to you boys every day.

Why? In the '20s and '30s,

I could understand it.

They were hard times,

but they produced qualities in people

that you lot will never have.

I can be stopped in the street

by someone I taught then.

We'll talk about the old days, and we'll

laugh about the thrashings I gave him.

But what do I get from you lot?

A honk from a greasy,

pimply-faced youth

sitting at the wheel

of a big second-hand car.

I don't know. I just don't know.

No guts! No backbone!

Nothing to commend you whatsoever.

Mere fodder for the mass media.

And so, until someone

produces a better solution,

I'll continue to use this cane,

knowing fully well that you'll be

back for it time and time and time again.

You smokers will go out of here

with your hands ringing.

Will it stop you smoking? You're already

looking forward to smoking at break.

- What are you grinning about?

- Not grinnin'.

You are! I'll bet you're already

thinking about smoking at break.

Empty your pockets.

I bet they're loaded with cigarettes.

Come on, all of you, empty your pockets.

- Please, sir...

- Quiet. Empty your pockets.

- You don't understand.

- Empty your pockets.

Disgusting!

Please, sir.

You again? You again?!

- Yes, sir.

- Empty your pockets.

- But, sir, I've got a message from Mrs...

- Empty your pockets!

I don't believe it.

I don't believe this.

Empty your pockets, lad.

Empty your pockets when you're told!

Come on, lad.

Ah!

A regular little cigarette factory,

aren't you?

Yes, sir.

Put that rubbish away!

Now I hope it's going to be

a lesson to you.

I don't suppose for one minute it will be.

I don't doubt before the end of the week

you'll be back in here again

for exactly the same crime, smoking.

Perhaps, once in a while, it might sink in.

- Yes, sir.

- That you're wasting your money,

that it's your money you're burning,

and it's your hands that get caned

when you come in here.

Good morning. Entry of the gladiators.

Where have you been?

- Been to see Mr Gryce, sir.

- For the stick?

- Yes, sir.

- How many?

- Two.

- Did it hurt?

- Not bad.

- Right. Hope it didn't.

Go on, sit down.

Right now, fact.

Anne, tell me what a fact is.

Don't give me a fact.

You know, don't say that Guthrie's

got a tatty head or anything like that.

A fact is something where

you find evidence out, like truth.

Something that you know

has actually happened.

This is a fact. All right?

Have you got that clear?

- Yes, sir.

- All right.

Tibbut, sit up straight.

And I want the rest of yer

to look at him - if you can bear it -

and tell me some facts about Tibbut.

- Wolstenholme?

- He's always tryin' to go wi' t'lasses.

ls he?

- He smokes.

- Do I heck!

- Tha does.

- Get knotted, Guthrie!

I'm not interested in what

he does out of school hours,

as long as he doesn't come into

the class smokin' a fag. All right?

Come on, you people who aren't thinking.

Right, Julie.

I want you to think of an incident that's

happened to you sometime in the past,

that is true, and that you think

will interest the rest of the class. All right?

Well, er...

I went to this all-night party yesterday.

And, er...

about three o'clock,

we were dancin' int' garden -

me and her and all the rest,

can't mention names -

and, er, this woman

come across from t'road,

and, er, she tells us to...

to make less noise,

or she'd fetch t'police.

So, well... so we said,

let her fetch 'em if she wanted.

So she fetched 'em.

Things that have actually happened.

How about another one?

What about you, Casper?

- Casper!

- What, sir?

"What, sir?"

You'd know if you'd been listening.

What have we just been talking about?

- Stories, sir?

- What kind of stories?

- You haven't been listening, have yer?

- Yes. Some of it.

Some of it?!

Stand up!

You're gonna tell us

a story about yourself.

- I don't know any, sir.

- Well, you stand there till yer do.

Always somebody, isn't there, eh?

Somebody who wants to be awkward.

Just won't be interested,

doesn't matter what you do.

Just like you, Casper.

Come on.

I'll give you two minutes

to think of something, or the whole class

comes back at four o'clock.

- Come on, don't stand there like a nail.

- He is a nail.

Come on.

- I say... tell him.

- Tell him about the hawk, Casper.

lf anybody else calls out,

it'll be the last call they make!

- Speed?

- He's got this hawk. He's mad over it.

He just goes wi' t'hawk all t'time.

He's crackers over it.

- Better than thee, anyroad.

- All right, Casper.

Sit down.

Now, come on, tell us about this hawk.

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