Glasgow Student Short Story Prize 2009

Judged by A.L. Kennedy
Edited by Elisabeth Ingram, Rebecca CF Bradburd and Jose Velazquez

Taking Care of Joseph

The worst thing is the earth falling onto his eyes. You could maybe stand it if he had them closed, but he’s lying there looking up at you out of his wide open eyes and you can’t deal with it, you’re imagining the feeling of it the whole time. You know it’s stupid, you know he can’t feel the earth hitting his eyes, but it’s totally creeping you out… you stop shovelling and straighten up. There’s no sound except for Liam’s spade and his breath – but you can tell there are loads of things sitting in the bushes, listening, watching, you can feel them there. And you can feel the sweat in your back cooling into ice water, and the bite of a blister in your palm. You wait for him to notice you’ve stopped, but he just keeps shovelling.

    ‘We have to turn him over,’ you say, your words whispering into mist in front of you.

    ‘What?’ He doesn’t look at you. Keeps working.

You say it again, louder.

    ‘We have to turn him over.’

    ‘What the fuck for? Shut up and keep shovelling.’

    ‘No, we have to,’ you say, and you grab hold of his spade as he swings round, reaching for another load of dark earth.

    ‘What the fuck is wrong with you? We have to get this done and get out of here. We don’t have time for fannying about.’

    You slide your hand up the shaft of the spade to his arm. You can feel the hairs under your palm. They feel warm, prickly.

    ‘No, there’s something about the way he’s… I can’t…we have to turn him over, I can’t explain, we just have to do it.’

    He stares at you. You see the red marks appear on his cheekbones. You can feel the muscles worming and snarling under his skin, and you’re thinking he’s going to push you away or maybe even thump you, but you keep hold of his arm, look into his eyes deep as you can. He breaks it first, looks down at Joseph lying all skew-whiff in the trench. Then he laughs, blows out his breath that way he does, whooshing the hair away from his own eyes.

    ‘Alright, you daft bitch, if it’ll shut you up and get you shovelling again…’

    He does push you then, but really gently, and you don’t mind that. He steps into the hole. You like how he’s careful not to stand on Joseph as he slides his hands under him and flips him over onto his face. The earth you’ve piled on top of Joseph goes all underneath his body. It’ll take ages to cover him up again, but it’s better, it’s not so creepy when you can’t see his eyes, the gleaming of them. Liam climbs out and picks up his spade again, and you smile at him.

    ‘There, happy now?’

    He’s breathing really quickly. He looks at you, and you feel the look strike hot, deep down in your belly, like he’s beaming it straight into you. He leans over and gives your face a stroke. Some of the dirt sticks on your cheek and you reach up to wipe it. You look at its darkness on your hand, then lift it to your nose. This has been on Joseph, and now it’s on you. It smells alive. Things have been in it and left their trace. God’s in it. God's in you.

    You look up at Liam and he’s staring at you again, but you can’t read what he’s thinking. You suddenly want to fuck him so badly that you almost fall. And he knows. He always knows. He grins at you, then nods to the spade at your feet.

    By the time the dawn comes, Joseph will be all covered up and sleeping safe. Then it’ll just be you and Liam again, and that’ll be good. That’ll be the best. You pick up your spade and push it into the warm, black earth. Start to shovel.