And Jugs They Beat Their Children But There’s Nothing We Can Do
by Anthony Richardson
There’d been some disturbance in the cupboard so Old Shorty and I were called over. We opened it up, cramped and dusty place, and a big fat jug in there faced us in the doorway like she’d been waiting for this to happen. Looked like a water jug. Her glass was faded and used. Too much work, too much salt. Plain and used and dish-washed intensively, that was the story of her life. You could smell it. Old Shorty had seen this more times than me. And a little juglet cowered there behind her, just the same type of glass, delicate little thing. Never used by humans, you could tell it. She peered through the fat base of her mother.
And I began to speak, because I’m the one who speaks, Old Shorty he doesn’t tend to talk all that much. Old Shorty stands next to me and studies things.
“Just checking up seeing what’s happening in this cupboard. Some people say they’ve heard shouting.”
And the big jug didn’t reply. And the juglet she didn’t reply. In my experience doing this job glass jugs talk less than Old Shorty.
“Well Ok then. But I’ve got to warn you, madam. Just keep it down, you hear me? Everyone likes a song and dance, but be considerate.”
No reply from the jugs. And it seemed a minor case. Nothing bad going on, a bit of late night noise. I moved to turn away, but Old Shorty nudged me in the elbow and motioned with his eyes. And while spouting closing remarks about coming back knocking round these cupboards if we heard anything again, I looked past the jug to see her littl’un. The juglet had been chipped. Real nasty looking nick right up near her spout. It happens, I’ve seen this a couple of times, Old Shorty’s seen it hundreds, but you can’t prove anything.
I looked at the big jug all fat and faded and plonked defensively in front of the juglet, and Old Shorty stood there, his eyes all grey, but there was nothing we could do.
And in the car Old Shorty watched the rain falling around the town through those hard spectacles of his.
And Jugs They Beat Their Children But There’s Nothing We Can Do was published in Wufniks Magazine 3, June 2008.
