Dirt Road Page 19

  when I die I’ll live again

  because I believe

  and have found salvation

  when I die

  when I die I’ll live again.

  It may have been a hymn. Probably it was. An American one maybe; so ye wouldnt have heard it back home. Chess was looking to Murdo, directing him: come in as soon as ye like. And Murdo found he could, plain and speedy.

  Mostly Clara sang with her eyes closed but when she did open them they seemed to fasten on somebody in particular, so the person knew they were being looked at. It reminded Murdo of something, but what? he couldnt think what. Eventually others came in on the line-endings:

  when I die I’ll live again

  hallelujah

  because I’m forgiven

  my soul will find heaven

  when I die

  when I die I’ll live again

  hallelujah

  When the song ended Clara smiled to Murdo and gave a wave to Aunt Maureen, a relaxed wave. Aunt Maureen looked pleased and happy. Chess said, That was nice son. We do one more huh?

  Murdo looked for Declan before replying. He rose from the seat to see better. Uncle John gave him a cheery thumbs-up. Murdo grinned. Declan was standing beside Dad by the entrance. The woman was also there. Murdo called, One more?

  Declan saluted. Dad was just watching. Murdo adjusted the guitar. Chess said, We’ll do “The Lost Pilgrim” son.

  “The Lone Pilgrim”, said Clara.

  “Lone Pilgrim”, yeah… Chess pointed out Murdo to the company. This is Maureen’s nephew from Scotland, Maureen and John there, you all maybe know that?

  Murdo, said Clara.

  Chess had raised the fiddle, he leaned to speak quietly to Murdo. I’ll give it a good-size of an introduction son; you come in when you are ready. Just you take your time. We take it all the way through and back again. All the way through son. That’s for Clara huh? So it’s right for her. You know what I’m saying, we got all the time here.

  Yeah.

  Chess sniffed. We need you in there. Two introductions, three, it dont matter. Okay? When you are ready, we’ll hear that nice guitar. You okay now?

  Yeah.

  Okay. Chess said to Clara: Just wait till the boy comes in Clara. We’ll take it through and just you know… Chess shrugged. Clara nodded.

  Twice on the introduction and it was needed. Murdo watched and listened and eventually he could come in; that bit trickier than earlier. Chess was watching till when Murdo had it he returned to the beginning so they could play it through together, fully.

  So it was right for Clara. It was Clara. Of course it was Clara! Murdo could have laughed. Everything was Clara. Chess needed Murdo there for her. It had to be right for her. Of course it did.

  Then it was.

  Her singing and nobody else.

  In the story she sang she came to the place and what kind of place was it, she was singing the place; a place for the beautiful souls. So it was another hymn, like the last one. Murdo knew them now as hymns so if they were like songs, actual songs, the other name for them was hymns. This was people’s hymns. What are hymns? hymn? “a hymn”?

  He didnt catch the words. He wasnt bothered about them. Beautiful souls. Memories and cheerio, goodbye beautiful soul goodbye, lost souls and finding souls.

  Murdo was playing the song and when the song ended he waited, guitar on his lap, while people clapped. Clara was smiling up to Aunt Maureen. Murdo looked for Dad but couldnt see him. Declan Pike was coming towards him. Murdo stood up to lift the strap up and over his head. Declan patted him on the shoulder. Hey! he said.

  Murdo handed him the guitar. It’s a beauty, he said.

  Declan took it from him. Yeah.

  What is it?

  Huh?

  What kind is it? said Murdo.

  Declan growled: The good kind.

  Is it got a name?

  No sir, it aint got no name. Declan said quietly, Hey now what about Clara Hopkins? Aint she the lady? Man, she is something. Aint heard her sing in a long time. How d’you manage that! Clara dont sing nowadays! You got her singing son! Declan patted him on the shoulder again then prepared to leave.

  Aw, are you going? asked Murdo.

  Yep. I been playing a while. I need a beer. Declan repeated this in a growl: I need a beer. There’s a tent back there doing barbeque and they’re getting me a steak. I’m talking a steak. You eat steak?

  Steak?

  You dont know what a steak is?

  Murdo grinned.

  Declan studied him a moment then wagged his finger at him. Now boy I asked your father that same damn question and he said the same damn thing back to me: Steak? That’s what he said, steak. I says, You eat steak? Steak? he says, Steak? You boys from Scotland and you dont know what steak is! Declan stepped back a pace to study Murdo properly. You dont know the history of steak in this country?

  The history of steak?

  Shame on you! Declan chuckled, turning away. He gripped the guitar-case and saluted the people sitting around. Some acknowledged this, others didnt notice. The old guy in the fancy waistcoat gave him a clenched fist salute and called: I worked on that railroad son. I worked on it!

  Oh you did huh?

  Sure I did. And you know what? they didnt murder me.

  Declan laughed. He had a cigarette in his mouth already. He paused to speak with Chess and Clara for a few moments, then headed to the exit. Aunt Maureen was closeby, sitting with people. She saw Murdo looking across and waved to him. Murdo waved back. His jacket was lying on a chair. He didnt even remember putting it there.

  *

  The dance proper began at 8.00 p.m. It wasnt late but when ye were hanging about it was like the distant future. If Murdo had been with guys then okay but he wasnt. Nobody to talk to and nothing to do. That is how it was. Find a chair, sit on the grass, go for a walk. He had gone for a walk a few times, got to know people’s faces, and they looked at him. How come he’s here again?

  The stalls and tents shut long ago. Only actual foodtents were open and more for meals than snacks. No sign of Dad. Maybe he was in with people. Folk had bottles of wine and it looked expensive. He would have preferred a bag of chips or a hamburger maybe, something to eat while ye walked. Maybe ye didnt get chips.

  Younger people were over by the field but not the two girls from Clara Hopkins’ foodstall and he wondered if they had been at the session. Maybe they had gone home. Probably they had, if their parents had been there; no choice. Time to go home and ye went. That was the unfair thing about it, if ye wanted to meet people, ye werent able to. They come into yer life then go out.

  He had reached the exit by the parking area. This was outlaw land; ye could imagine their hide-outs in the mountains; secret canyons. The road coming here was dirt and stones; probably a trail from the old days. If ye didnt have yer own transport ye couldnt come. How did people manage? That was the thing with America, how did ye get places?

  A family coming towards him; a man, a woman, a boy and a baby. The baby bounced along on the man’s shoulders. They wore ordinary clothes but the woman had a tartan shawl across her shoulders, pushing the baby buggy with the boy hanging onto the side of the handle. Murdo moved aside to let them pass. He wasnt going any farther, otherwise he would exit past the pay-to-enter table. Although nobody was there taking money so he could just walk back in again. He returned along the path. Declan appeared, with the woman who had been talking to Dad. The guitar-case was slung round his shoulders. The woman was talking and gesturing with her hands, but stopped when she saw Murdo. Declan shook hands with him. How’s it going? You doing okay?

  Yeah.

  Doing good huh? You know Linda here? My driver?

  Linda ignored him and gave Murdo a little wave.

  Declan said, Linda here dont approve of the Gathering. Declan chuckled. She dont care for the kilt.

  I care for it, said Linda.

  Not on men you dont.

  Certain men.

  C
ertain men! Men with thin legs?

  Murdo smiled.

  It’s not a joke, she said.

  Murdo flushed.

  Linda said, Sorry, not you.

  Declan said, She dont like being here Murdo.

  Not with them I dont.

  Declan said, How about you now did you enjoy the day? Bit of fun huh? Declan swung the guitar-case to one side and brought out his cigarettes.

  Yeah…the music, what you did, it was strong.

  Thanks. Declan gazed at him, then nodded and lit a cigarette. Thanks, he said again.

  Linda groaned, closing her eyes. These people hated what you did!

  Hey now! Declan raised his hand.

  What you said and what you sang. Every last word! You know who I’m talking about.

  You’re talking some and you got some everywhere. I dont take “these people” Linda, “these people”. These some are my people and they are your people.

  Oh God. Linda shook her head, stepped farther along the path, before stopping.

  I get worse down Texas any night of the week. Any night at all. Declan glanced at Murdo. They throw knives down there.

  They hated what you said! called Linda.

  They did huh! Got to be doing something right then huh! Declan smiled. He said to Murdo: They still dress like that in Scotland Murdo?

  Murdo smiled. Declan raised his eyebrows.

  No, said Murdo, no. They dont. Maybe some right enough. Usually it’s just guys at a football match or rugby maybe like international games. Or else like weddings: guys wear them to get married.

  Special events huh?

  Yeah.

  Do they carry the fiery cross? called Linda.

  I dont know. I think it’s just traditional. Christenings as well. Murdo smiled.

  Declan had shaken his head. Linda said, Hey I’m sorry. That was real fine playing.

  Murdo gazed at her.

  Real fine. Linda smiled. She turned from them and continued walking.

  Declan said, Accordeon you play huh?

  Yeah.

  Your father was saying. Declan nodded and made as if to say something more, then nodded again, looking after Linda; he raised his hand in a farewell.

  Murdo started to speak and stopped. Declan waited. No, said Murdo, I was just wanting to ask eh I mean have you ever heard of a music kind of event in a town LaFayette?

  Well sure I have if you’re talking Cajun music.

  Murdo grinned.

  You are huh. That is what you’re talking about.

  Yeah! And Zydeco?

  Sure, yeah, that’s Lafayette. Declan chuckled and signaled to Linda to hold on a minute. She stopped along by the exit, at the pay-to-enter table.

  Near Chattanooga? asked Murdo.

  Chattanooga…?

  I dont mean in it but near to it.

  Aint Chattanooga son.

  I saw it on the map.

  Chattanooga!

  I thought it was quite near I mean if it’s just like well if ye’re going down the interstate road and that’s you crossing into Georgia.

  Georgia! Lafayette aint in Georgia Murdo! No sir, that’s a whole different Lafayette. Spell that one with a capital F: L A capital F. Declan growled. Got its own history there boy! No sir, one you want is Louisiana: Lafayette, Louisiana. A different state altogether son. You’re talking Cajun music, you’re talking Zydeco music. Whoh now! Declan shook his head, chuckling, inhaled on his cigarette then dropped it and ground it out.

  The state of Louisiana?

  You got it. What you planning a trip? That is one nice little festival.

  Murdo grinned.

  You take care now Murdo.

  Thanks.

  Yeah. Declan continued along the path; he and Linda walked on together. Murdo returned to the main area.

  Dad was at a foodtent, sitting at a table with Aunt Maureen, Uncle John and people. Murdo kept out of view. Dad would have wanted him to come and eat food with them. He didnt want to. He wasnt hungry – he was but he wasnt. He wanted to go home. It would be good hearing music. He was just wanting to lie and just – just listen.

  Murdo didnt care if Dad went with him. He had already said it was stupid. If he went he went and if he didnt he didnt it, was up to him. But Murdo was going. If he wanted to. He would go if he wanted to. He did want to. So he was.

  Seventy dollars. Yesterday he had nothing. It was how yer life went. Up one day down the next.

  Murdo skirted round the blind side of the food tent, down the central part moving in the direction of the marquee. A girl stood in front of him. She had a phone in her hand and a flyer. Two others were with her, wearing leggings and blouses. The tallest had a white flower in her hair. The first girl was smaller and thinner but sharp the way she was looking at him; a lot of freckles. You sign your name for me? she said, holding the flyer out to him. With her other hand she held up the phone for a picture. Murdo glanced at her then signed the flyer. Is it okay? she said, indicating the phone.

  He shrugged. She moved to take a selfie with him. She took another photo then studied his signature on the flyer. You from Scotland huh?

  Yeah.

  You go to school here?

  Eh no. In Scotland. He looked at the other two.

  You go to school in Scotland! The girl grinned to her pals who were watching. He goes in Scotland. She squinted at his name on the flyer. What does it say? she asked.

  Just my name.

  Murdo, she said, not including Macarthur. She passed the flyer onto her pals. You play in a band, like a real band? Somebody said you did.

  Who?

  Somebody.

  Was it my Aunt?

  He noticed the other two girls and it was the one with the white flower in her hair – she looked away, she had gone red, and turned so it was hard to see but it was easy to see, she had gone so very very red, like a pink, the pinkest red possible; and himself too jeesoh he couldnt stop it, he was blushing too. He lowered his head.

  What age are you? asked the first girl.

  He made to leave.

  What age are you? she said, hitting his arm. Sixteen huh? You sixteen?

  Murdo looked at her.

  Huh! She laughed to the other two: He’s sixteen!

  The girl with the white flower walked away. The third girl followed her. The first girl pointed after them to Murdo and mouthed something which he didnt understand, then rushed to catch up with them.

  Stupid blushing, he couldnt stop it. People’s lives werent like his. That is what he knew. Girls didnt know about him, except he didnt say funny stuff or whatever, because what are ye going to say, what are ye going to talk about? If lassies are to smile, oh it is a girl, ye should get her smiling. Guys say that. But what about! People found TV programmes funny that he couldnt even look at, and wanted to cover his ears and just block everything out; these stupid old guys making their stupid jokes round a table and people in the audience Oh ho ho ho. Ye felt sick hearing them, yer actual belly, oh jeesoh man I’m going to puke. How come people laughed? Probably they had to, probably it was like an order from the people in charge. Oh ye have to laugh even if the jokes are stupid, this is a TV programme and people are watching all over the stupid world. If ye feel like dying, ye still have to laugh.

  Maybe they didnt get told. Maybe they just laughed. Folk did laugh. Ye spoke to them about nothing at all and they laughed. In the supermarket ye asked somebody stacking the shelves, Where is the cheese please, do ye have any cheese? Oh yes it is the next aisle! and they laugh at ye.

  What for? Weird sounds breaking up their breathing, that is laughs. Imagine an alien and ye heard people laughing: weird noises from nowhere, uh uh uh uh uh, ah ah ah ah ah, hih hih huh hih hih huh, he he he he he, ho ho ho ho.

  What did it remind ye of? Noises in the jungle. After midnight down the woods, insects and animals; all different ones.

  What age were they? Thirteen or fourteen maybe; not fifteen, Murdo didnt think so, although she was good to look at, her
with the white flower, hot; and a nice thing about her too like if ye were poking fun at her, if ye tried, probably she would not let ye or else would poke fun at ye back. The flower made ye think that. Her blushing made ye think about poking fun at her, but the white flower meant she could poke fun back at ye. Otherwise how come she was wearing it? That was lassies. Although he wouldnt have poked fun at her anyway. He didnt even know her. Even if he did so what because what did ye talk about? If something was funny, so she would smile. Ye wanted her to smile and not be sad. The world was sad but if ye could smile, maybe ye could, if ye could say something to her. Something funny, but ordinary too, and it would make her smile, a thing to make her smile.

  *

  He could have gone home. Right now, he could have. If somebody asked What would ye rather do? Go home, I’ll just go home. Back to Scotland? Yeah. Jeesoh ye like Scotland? Yeah – even the bad bits!

  But why go home? Oh God so he could play so he could play, so he could get ready. He just needed to play, play play play, to practise, to practise; the fingers, just the fingers. He felt that with the guitar, he needed to just like play…!

  Home tomorrow then back next Saturday with the accordeon, his own accordeon. All he needed was the plane-fare. Dad, any money!

  Ha ha.

  Imagine but! He would go home to come back. Home to come back.

  Why not? If he had money. People did that, like musicians, to get yer own stuff. If they needed it. Why not?

  The marquee was closed. He hadnt expected that. People were preparing it for the dance. Okay. It was quite quiet. He heard shouts from somewhere but it just sounded like people having a laugh. That was twice today lassies looked at him, counting the ones at Clara Hopkins’ foodstall. They looked at ye because ye played. Mum laughed about it, if it was a gig and she saw a lassie standing or whatever, like smiling or just like whatever, looking at Murdo.