Dirt Road Read online

  He was awake and on his back lying there. The dampness.

  He raised himself onto his elbows. A sliver of light through the ceiling window. He had to go to the bathroom. He lay back down.

  He had to go.

  What time was it? It didnt matter. He reached out for the bedside lamp; dampness and sticky. He got up from the mattress, left the basement door open to light the staircase. In the bathroom he used toilet paper and cold water to wipe clean the semen. That was it if it touched the sheets or the duvet. A wet dream because he wouldnt wank. But wet dreams were terrible because ye didnt know, they just happened and there was nothing ye could do, it was always just like wakening up, oh I need to go I need to go and that was that ye came, it was hopeless.

  Back downstairs he left on the light and was in fast between the sheets, but without switching on the hi-fi. It was a thing that happened so that was that and ye would dry in the dampness. Stupid jumbles not even making sense. Ye just hug and the girl fits and if yer bodies fit then they fit. Ye see the shapes, ye dont need to because it is like ye are built for it, ye just fit in and the girl takes ye in, just sliding. Oh jees. The lassie fits into you and you fit into the lassie. That is the design: male and female.

  Sarah too, not to think of her like that, because like her family, if ye know somebody’s family, ye dont want to think of her that way like bodies and yer arm round her pressing her in, nude, and just feeling her and if she’s pressing

  *

  They were going to the shopping mall. Aunt Maureen had booked a cab for 11 a.m. It was good to be going but Murdo’s head was elsewhere. He put his shoes on at the door and went outside to wait on the porch. Dad was already there, sitting on the bench by the wall. Taxi’s due, he said.

  Right.

  Dad noticed he was wearing a T-shirt. Maybe ye should put on something else, he said.

  Dad it’s fresh.

  Yeah I’m not talking about that, it gets chilly in the mall because of the air conditioning, Aunt Maureen was saying. People catch colds; they

  Murdo didnt wait for the next bit. Back in the house he took off his shoes and downstairs to the basement. He switched on the music to a particular track he was listening to. It was on the second of the CDs, the one with the other musicians. Just the most soulful sound ye could get and an accordeon too it was a knock-out.

  A sound like that, ye just didnay expect it, just how he had it, he really had it. In learning a tune there was “a thing to get”. Once ye “got it” you were fast away and could go at it and play to it and do most whatever ye wanted with it. It was not only the tune but a certain thing that gives ye more than that. When ye got that ye could go with it. Anywhere at all. Ye were just free and could do anything.

  He took off the T-shirt, found a proper shirt and put it on – and took it back off, the waste of a shirt, wearing it to a mall. It was Joe Harkins said about “the thing to get”. Joe played mandolin and was pretty brilliant. He played with the band for a few weeks. Mum was there and coming to gigs at the time so that was a year ago. She liked the sound they were getting. She said it was different.

  It was different: Joe!

  People said he was a cool guy but it was the way he pushed ye on. And ye had to go with him. Ye had to. It was the real stuff and ye knew it was. There were good clips of him on YouTube but what ye saw was what ye saw and not like how it was from the inside. Ye didnay get that anywhere, that was like inside their heads. Ye had to play with people for that.

  Joe was out on his own. Ye got left behind if ye werent careful and if that happened too much it was like Joe shut down, he went cold. If he had to go alone he shut down. That was bad, a player like Joe. Ye didnay want that happening. Imagine a band where the lead guy stops in the middle and says, I’m away home.

  Ye got that tingle playing with him and ye didnt forget it. How could ye? Why else would ye be doing it? Ye thought that to yerself: this is a real band. That is what ye felt. That was Joe. When he was there ye had to go for it. Once ye got it ye could go for it all, just bloody go for it all, so like ye were bursting, and ye would see Joe maybe nodding his head, eyes closed.

  Murdo! Murdo!

  The taxi. Dad shouting on him from the top of the stairs.

  It was true but, if ye couldnay cut it with Joe maybe ye couldnt ever, and that is how ye would be. Murdo put the T-shirt back on and grabbed his jacket, switched off the hi-fi and went fast upstairs. Dad waited by the front door ready to lock up. Aunt Maureen was in the cab. Sorry about that Dad. Murdo pulled on his trainers.

  Dad nodded.

  In the cab he sat next to the driver who yapped on about space museums and railway museums and drive-in movie houses that were as good as anything ye could find anywhere and served traditional ice-cream, glancing over his shoulder at Aunt Maureen as though ice-cream interested her in particular.

  The road was complicated with roundabouts and flyovers. They had three and four lanes for traffic and drivers on the inside drove faster than ones on the outside. The worst was a guy whizzing along in and out, not bothering even to pamp his horn. Aunt Maureen called from the rear: Look at that. One finger on the wheel.

  According to Dad the aisle seat on the bus was preferable to the window seat because ye didnt have to look out. It was too stressful seeing the crazy drivers. The driver didnt say anything. He heard Dad’s voice and knew he was foreign. The nearer to the mall along both sides of the road were restaurants and free-standing stores. Different buildings; some fancy-shaped with round roofs and new-looking red bricks. Dad paid the fare. Aunt Maureen didnt want him to but he did.

  They walked between department store buildings and it was good shade. Hot but not too hot. Aunt Maureen led them into one huge store, straight through and out the other side, into the main shopping area. Two huge-long floors of department stores. People going round and round. Women with babies and kids; old people too, and power-walkers. In one place there was a huge imitation rocket ship. Kids climbed to the top then slid all the way down on a chute. Other entertainments; an ice-rink and either two cinemas or one, and did they have an indoor golf course? Aunt Maureen said they did but it sounded fantastic. She didnt come much to this mall. When she did she made the most of it. She had favourite stores and shops and enjoyed going in for a look. Most were for clothes and fancy household items. For the pot-luck tonight she needed plastic cutlery and napkins; paper plates, paper cups and paper glasses. After eating ye just dumped everything into the bin.

  After the first couple of stores Murdo stayed outside. So did Dad who had brought a book and usually there were seats. Up on the first floor Murdo leaned on the barrier seeing over and down to the ground level. Along was a larger-than-life model of a guy playing electric guitar. It was fixed at the entrance to a store. Surely a music store? Murdo couldnt quite make it out. Hey Dad, he said, look! A music store!

  Dad glanced up from his book, shifted on the bench to see. Murdo pointed down and along to it. Ye think I could have some money I mean eh…?

  Dad paused a moment. Okay, he said. He took dollar notes from his pocket and peeled off a $10. Much ye talking about?

  I dont know.

  Dad peeled off another $10 and passed him the $20. He stood up and peered over the barrier. Below was busy with people but the model of the musician was visible. Dad said, Ye sure it’s a music store?

  Well what else?

  Dad shrugged. Why dont ye wait till Aunt Maureen comes back?

  I was only going for a look.

  Yeah. She’ll be here in a minute.

  …

  Murdo she’ll be here in a minute. Then we’ll come with ye. One minute. Just one minute. I dont want us missing each other.

  Murdo nodded.

  This place is massive son.

  Yeah. Murdo made to hand back the money. Dad looked at the two ten dollar notes. Naw, he said, hang onto it. As soon as Aunt Maureen comes we’ll go.

  Dad I’m not bothered.

  Aw for God sake.

  R
eally. I’ll go another time.

  Dad sighed. Murdo held out the money. Here, he said.

  Right, said Dad and took it.

  Murdo turned from him, leaning his elbows on the barrier. Dad sat down and opened the book. It was good to read a book. Dad liked doing that. What did Murdo like? Nothing. Nothing was good. Nothing was the best of all. Dad gave him nothing and that was what he wanted. From Dad anyway. Who cares? He saw the shop and out it came. He just opened his mouth and out it came, the first thing in his head. Better not talking at all.

  Aunt Maureen reappeared. She chatted while they walked. Murdo stayed a pace behind so it was Dad she was chatting to. The next store had no seats. She left her bags next to where they were standing. Dad took out his book and was reading in the space of two seconds. Two seconds. Murdo stood still. He could only stand there. People scream. He didnt. Memories of boyhood, shopping with Mum and Eilidh and the agony, the agony. Stand there and be quiet. Be quiet. Stand. All ye could do. Clothes and clothes and clothes, and clothes and clothes and clothes – and that smell and how the lights were, the glare, people banging into ye. I’m goni scream I’m goni scream I’m goni scream. Although he might have slept, here, if Dad had allowed it. Dad wouldnt. He could read standing up but sleeping was barred. Ye could read but not sleep. Bad manners.

  He could have brought a book. The cowboy one, he could have brought that. How come he didnt? Because he was going out. Stay in the house if ye want to read. In is in and out is out. Ye didnt go out to read a book. What about a sexy one, if he had brought that?

  Before long Aunt Maureen was there. Murdo and Dad carried bags for her. A couple she carried herself. There’s things in them I dont want bashing, she said.

  They headed along to the food court. There was a choice of places. A Mexican one looked good. Mexican’s spicy, said Aunt Maureen. Your Uncle likes spicy. That’s why he’s got the bad stomach. She led them to an empty table by a delicatessen. Once upon a time you got a real bit of dinner here, she said. Not now you dont. A sandwich is good for me. See if they got turkey Tommy, or chicken.

  Murdo? said Dad.

  Is it a sandwich?

  Whatever.

  So a sandwich?

  Dad stared at him.

  Tuna please. Or cheese. Chicken. Murdo shrugged.

  So ye dont have a preference?

  No Dad, just anything, thanks.

  Dad walked to place the order. Aunt Maureen was checking through her purchases and receipts, and talking at the same time: Some folks spend their lives in here, huh. Then you got the walkers. Twice round the mall then it’s lunchtime, another twice and that’s them done their day’s exercise. There’s folks come here in the morning dont go home till evening. You believe that? They spend their life right here. Dont buy a thing; they just walk about, dont do nothing. Dont work. Nothing. They got their entitlements, you know what entitlements are son?

  Murdo didnt reply and Aunt Maureen’s attention was distracted by two young women arriving at a nearby table, one pushing a buggy with a baby inside. They were maybe from China or a country roundabout there, both wearing tight jeans. They didnt look over but just sat down, fixing the baby. Aunt Maureen wasnt quiet in talking so they could have heard what she was saying. Maybe they were just walking about, like if Aunt Maureen was referring to them. Maybe they thought that. If they did they were wrong, very wrong. Aunt Maureen would never have said any such thing, and now was away talking again.

  The elder girl lifted the baby out of the buggy. The baby didnt laugh but stared at the mother – if she was the mother. Aunt Maureen was saying about how things used to be when this mall was first built and how it had changed so much. But she stopped talking. It was the baby, how she stared at the baby, even like she wanted to lift it up. Jees, imagine she did, just reaching to lift it. Oh my, she said, he is a beauty. He is a true beauty, that is what he is.

  But she kept on staring. The young women exchanged looks. They were more like girls. The younger one fingered her necklace. She was about Murdo’s age. He could see the side of her face and just like the position she was sitting, as if she could maybe see him out the corner of her eye and how she was fingering her necklace again. How come? She was sexy-looking. That was the truth. Was she going to look at Murdo. Maybe. Maybe she didnt because with Aunt Maureen there and talking. Dad too, Dad was back, distributing the stuff, sandwiches and drinks, napkins, plastic forks. Extra salad with the cheese sandwich, and potato crisps. Murdo took his sandwich and gobbled it down fast. A lumpy bit stuck in his throat. He took it out to see. An orangey kind of thing. He left it at the side of his plate, drank some juice.

  Dad looking at him. Murdo bit another piece of the sandwich. He wanted to leave the table but if he went too soon it was like he was still in a bad mood because of the music store. And he wasnt. He really wasnt, he just wanted away, just to walk about, on his own, he just wanted like – his own space.

  He needed to tell Dad about the gig. Sometime he did. If he didnt he wouldnt know about it, and that wasnt fair. Okay if Dad said no, but he needed the chance.

  The young women were chatting together, and Aunt Maureen too, to Dad, but including Murdo in it, just stuff about how it used to be way back. Murdo smiled, a kind of smile, if it was a smile. Smiles are just whatever, ye give one.

  *

  They were home by two thirty. Dad and Murdo offered to help Aunt Maureen prepare and she told them not to bother. It’s a pot-luck, she said, nobody’s going to worry too much. Then at four thirty her friends Josie and Melissa arrived early and helped her prepare the dining-room area. Melissa was Dave Arnott’s wife. Dave came later with his daughter and son-in-law and their children.

  People all brought food in bowls ready to eat. This was the pot-luck side of it. Ye came and ye took pot-luck. Whatever people brought was what ye ate. It was a good idea. Most were neighbours but a few had traveled a distance and were maybe connected to the same church as Aunt Maureen. The food was spread out on the dining table; some of it on the side cupboards and kitchen counter. Murdo was hungry but nobody was eating.

  The women stayed around the kitchen and dining area while the men were outside on the patio and garden, drinking beer out bottles and smoking if they smoked. Two conversations were on the go with the men. Dad and Dave Arnott in one: Uncle John in the other. Murdo sat roughly between them but was glad Uncle John drew him in to his. It was difficult in company with Dad and people at the same time.

  Uncle John was wanting to talk about stuff to do with Scotland, and not family stuff. Murdo was glad. Ye get it out yer head then it is all back in. An older man held onto his hand. Yeah, gotta be brave. Before him Aunt Maureen’s friend Josie gave him a hug and said, Oh now son she’s in a better place! talking about Mum, which was the kind of thing drove him nuts. It wasnt just daft it was worse than that. Although she was being nice, of course she was, obviously, and ye just had to act like it made sense, although it didnt, it was just like mental madness.

  Oh yes isnt she lucky, passing on to a better place. He should have said that. At school the Headteacher broadcast a message of sympathy “for Murdo whose mother has passed on”.

  Passing on to a better place. The coffin is pushed into the furnace. Oh isnt she lucky. Maybe we can all go! After death comes life. A dead person going. Death comes after life and life comes after death. So death is not death.

  Two kinds of life: before death and after death. After-life is after-death. Dead but not dead is vampires. The undead. Then Hell with all the demons. Imagine that was true. That would be the “unlucky soul”, oh the unlucky soul, he’s dead and going to Hell.

  What if ye do something good in Hell? Do they take ye out and put ye in Heaven? What if ye do something bad in Heaven? Do they take ye out and put ye in Hell? How do ye get from one place to another?

  Uncle John and the men were talking about work. To them it was interesting. Murdo would have skipped downstairs but it was too early for that and would have annoyed Dad. But it was okay to
leave the company, surely?

  He stepped down from the patio, and walked to where he did the sunbathing. It was good here; a thick hedge and a high hedge so if ye wanted shade from the sun ye could get it. The earth was hard, and dry grass, different grass. Ye think of grass all being the same but it wasnt.

  On parts of the hedge it was like dew had already gathered. Slimy stuff, soapy. Cobwebs glinted. Whatever spiders they had here, probably various species, maybe poisonous ones. Murdo had gone online before leaving Scotland and there was this tiny spider could fire a line of mesh twenty-five metres across a river. Although maybe that wasnt Alabama. He walked on a bit to where the hedge thinned out. Ye could have made a hole to crawl through, and escape. Except if it landed ye in the next door neighbours’ garden. Uncle John said the buggers were liable to shoot ye stone dead, and would be justified in a court of law because you would be seen as an intruder and they would be protecting their property.

  Two of Dave Arnott’s wee grandkids appeared less than ten feet away. Murdo pretended not to see them, two wee girls. He bent to study the grass. He picked out one stem and concentrated on it. He held it so that they could watch. He parted the stem of grass midway along the centre, aligned it within his thumbs and blew into it. A slight rasping noise was all it managed. He tried again but it wasnt working and he dropped the grass stem suddenly, as though frightened by something in the hedge. Jeesoh! he said.

  The girls stepped closer. What you looking at in there? said the elder one.

  Ssh.

  What you looking at?

  A tiny wee creature.

  They were puzzled. They maybe didnt understand his voice. It’s a tiny tiny animal, he said, pointing in behind the leaves. It’s in there hiding.

  The girls looked to see and the bigger one crouched to peer in. Murdo looked from one to the other and put on a scary voice: Maybe it is not so tiny. Maybe it is a big giant bear. A big big giant bear…!