Copernican Principle      The scribblings of an insignificant man

  A bar busy with older gentleman and a few ladies lay before him. He nudged between two gentleman and ordered a drink.

  “New t' tarn?” one of the old gents next to him asked.

  “Yes, thank you”, Gordon replied with a smile as he waited for his pint of John Smiths to be served. “Up from London for a bit”

  “Wot ya think a Yorkshire then flower? Aren’t we the friendliest people in the world?” The old gent continued with a smile.

  “Well, I think people are pretty much the same all over to be honest” Gordon’s tone was matter of fact but he was pleased to have some new company.

  The old gent spat out, “Ahhh, go fook off back to where ya came from then” and promptly turned his back on him.

  ‘Friendly indeed’ Gordon thought, he took his pint and turned the other way. Before him now was another old gent, a little shorter than Gordon in stature with a fetching white flat cap. In suit jacket and tie, though oddly finished off with a jumper tied round his waist.

  “Aye lad” he acknowledged Gordon with a big warm smile. “Tha’s new here for sure wi’ that fine southern twang”

  Now with a little trepidation, Gordon smiled back “Yes, well spotted, very new indeed”.

  “Now I could learn thee a thing or two ‘bout this fine tarn”, he leaned forward as he spoke and gave a little cough, “though it’s thirsty work, if tha gets me drift?”, his eyes open wide as he left the question lingering.

  Gordon looked back at him, unsure.

  He coughed again before returning to his wide eyed gesture in anticipation.

  “Oh yes, I’m sorry” Gordon smiled apologetically, “maybe I could get you a beer to loosen the tongue” and he called to the barman who, was already stood at the bar listening in to the conversation.

  “Nar then”, the barman boomed, “Dickie thar can buy thee own beer or sling thar chuffin’ ‘ook”, the old gent took fright like a startled bird and scampered out the pub.

  “Sorry pal” the barman apologised to Gordon, “Dunt put ‘and in pocket for that teet ol’ get” and then returned to serving others at the bar.

  Gordon looked at his beer and its perfect, as yet untouched, frothy head. Maybe he’ll just enjoy it without the company of others. As he raised it to his lips a quiet noise buzzed in his head for a moment. He stopped and looked around. There was no music playing, just the pleasant chatter from the people about him. He looked among the faces and they were all busy in their own conversations. ‘Monsieur, Monsieur’, now more distinct the noise formed words, though seemed distant. He turned to the big bay windows overlooking the street and noticed the heads of those outside looking down. It could only be Bayleaf.

  He walked to the window and looked out and down. There was the little brown and white Cavalier with the sad face looking all around him, lost and confused. ‘Look up at the window’ he threw his thoughts out towards Bayleaf, who instantly turned to him and looked up. Suddenly Bayleaf’s eyes opened wide as he saw Gordon in the pub. His tail wagged furiously and he started to bark up at him.

  ‘Mon amie, I find you’, and with that he raced round to the door and ran in the pub. Delightful cries went up from the ladies as the handsome pup ran through their legs and up to Gordon.

  “Oy” the barman was quick to react from behind the bar “no dogs in ‘ere pal”

  “Ahhh no, he’s not with me”, Gordon shot back at him, “I … I ….”

  “Smoking area outside there pal” the barman gestured to the other side of the bar where a fire door was hooked open.

  Gordon walked out to the smoking area and Bayleaf followed at his heels ‘Oh my friend’, the dog screamed in his head, ‘Take me with you. We can ‘av much fun’.

  ‘I’ll take you to a dog pound and leave you there’, Gordon replied, now outside under a large canopy. There were a few small groups of people all smoking and chatting and laughing. In the centre stood The Landlord, chatting with Dave from the Quay. Familiar faces at last, Gordon moved up to them.

  “I couldn’t trouble you good people for a cigarette please?” He asked out loud.

  “Talk about trouble” Landlord replied with a rare smile, “glad to see you’re still alive” He offered Gordon a cigarette from his pack and passed him his lighter.

  ‘Ahh ma cherie’, Bayleaf was sniffing at Landlord’s shoes, ‘you smell divine’.

  “Sorry” Gordon apologised, “I really don’t ……”

  Landlord’s face lit up as he bent down to greet Bayleaf “’Ello little fellah” he said as he stroked Bayleaf’s chin. Bayleaf reacted accordingly, looking back up at him with big eyes and big swishing tail. “You can come and play back at the Pig. Yes you can” He’d adopted that condescending tone that adults do when they’re talking to small children, “but no need to bring this silly man with you, you can play with my Snowball, she’ll love you”.

 “Err, yes” Gordon stuttered, “I really don’t know how he got out and followed me down here”.

  ‘Take me there my friend’, Bayleaf pleaded, ‘I meet this Pig dog, we make pretty Pig dog puppies. I poke this pig dog with my pr…’

  “BAYLEAF” Gordon erupted but calmed immediately, “leave the Landlord’s shoes alone”.

  “How’s Princess Street”, Dave asked.

  “Oh, well, yes, perfect” Gordon was grateful for the distraction.

  “How long will you be stoppin’?” Dave continued.

  “I’m really not sure”, Gordon answered, “Will I be okay with a dog in the house?”

  “Why?” Dave asked back, “Are you having Mandy round?”

  Bayleaf was reaching fever point. The scent of Landlord’s bitch in his nose and all the fussy attention he was receiving set him off into a barking fit. The happy voices around them quickly turned to irritated voices as he then started to whine.

  “Sorry”, Gordon apologised to the crowd, “sorry” then to Landlord and to Dave, “Sorry, I’d best get him out of here” scooping Bayleaf up in one arm and reaching out with the other to shake both their hands. “Might call in tomorrow, Landlord, need to speak with Don”

 

Later that Night

  Lying on the floor, under a blanket, in the empty upstairs room that was soon to be the bedroom, Gordon mused over his current situation. Bayleaf nudged the door open and swaggered over, pawing at the blanket end, he eventually settled at Gordon’s feet.

  ‘So how come I can hear your thoughts in my head?’ Gordon asked Bayleaf in his mind.

  ‘C’est le mystery my friend’, Bayleaf thought back at him, ‘Perhaps I am not talking at all and you are simply loco’. He rolled over on to his back and let out a silent fart.

  ‘Perhaps you are right, but who cares, I am happy. Night night my little friend’

  ‘Bon nuit my loco one’, Bayleaf yawned and within moments was snoring.

  Gordon smiled to himself, happy with his lot and as he closed his eyes, Bayleaf’s wind drifted up to his nostrils. ‘You dirty, scruffy bastard’.

  Bayleaf continued to snore as he teetered on the edge of sleep. He was also happy with the way his life had changed today and wanting to reply with the final words of the night but unwilling to wake himself up fully ……. he farted again.