Dirt Road Read online

  Dave was the man with him. Uncle John grabbed Murdo by the shoulders once again: cuddle thump thump thump: Tommy Tommy, what age is he! Honest to God I was expecting a kid! How old are ye son?

  Sixteen, coming up for seventeen.

  God love us! My own big sister’s grandson Murdo that’s who you are! She never made it but you have. Uncle John laughed then shook hands with Dad a second time. Tommy son I never thought to see ye. I feel weepy! He sighed, then introduced the other man. A good friend. Dave Arnott. Got the Macdonald blood in him. Eh Dave!

  Dave smiled and shook hands with Dad then Murdo. Uncle John meanwhile lifted Dad’s suitcase. Dad said quickly, That’s heavy.

  Uncle John gave him an amused look and hoisted it into the boot of the 4x4. Although much older than Dad he lifted the suitcase easily. Murdo made to shove his rucksack into the boot but Dad did so instead. Uncle John closed the boot and showed Dad into the front passenger’s seat. Dave and Murdo were for the rear. Murdo sat on the side behind Dad. While they were finding the seat-belts Uncle John said: Tommy son, how in hell you ever end up in Allentown, Mississippi!

  Dad sighed.

  Uncle John laughed. One for the storybooks eh!

  He drove in a relaxed way, chatting to Dad with one hand on the wheel, shouting occasional comments back to Murdo and Dave, while the radio played country music. He lived in a small town someplace on the outer regions was how he described it: I call it Scotstown. Every second person ye meet. Take Dave’s family now the Arnotts, they been here since forever, eh Dave?

  Couple of hundred years, said Dave.

  Hear that? Puts us all to shame! Then you got Macleods, Macleans, Macsweens, Macaulays, Johnsons – Johnson’s a Scottish name Tommy?

  Yeah.

  Just everywhere ye go!

  Dave turned to Murdo. You got Arnotts and Macdonalds round where you come from?

  Eh yeah, I think so.

  The old Macdonalds! cried Uncle John. They were the ones with the farm; eh Murdo boy!

  It was the Battle of Culloden that ended it for the Macdonalds, said Dad. They were forced to leave the country after that. They would have been wiped out otherwise.

  Jees yeah! Hear that Dave? Wiped out! Then ye got the other one, Glencoe. Right Tommy?

  Yeah. And before that the Covenanters.

  The Covenanters! Uncle John called over his shoulder.

  They got a homecoming two years from now! replied Dave.

  When Dad didnt answer Dave Arnott looked to Murdo for a comment but Murdo was not sure what he meant. Dad was knowledgeable on history and politics but he wasnt.

  Later no one was talking. Uncle John had increased the volume on the radio. It was for one particular song, loud on mandolin. Bill Monroe! he said. His people now they hail from the Outer Hebridee Islands Tommy, you believe that? Bill Monroe! Come from the island of Lewis. Uncle John started singing along on the chorus: I’m on my way to the old home, a place I know so well.

  He knew the song but not the words and continued in a doo doo doo doo doo style. He stopped soon and chuckled. That’s us Tommy son! On our way to the old home! Hey Murdo! You sleeping back there?

  Nearly.

  Nearly! Uncle John laughed.

  *

  It was past two in the morning by the time they arrived. Murdo enjoyed that drive. He didnt remember Uncle John too well but there was something about being here and traveling a road ye had never been before with this old guy from yer own family. Murdo’s granny was Uncle John’s big sister. That gave Murdo a nice feeling too, seeing the parallel with himself and Eilidh. When Uncle John spoke about his sister ye could see how much she meant to him. His own wife was Aunt Maureen. Murdo met her back when he was wee but couldnt remember anything about her. Her and Uncle John had two sons living in other parts of America: first cousins of Dad.

  Aunt Maureen had gone to bed but left sandwiches for them on a plate. Uncle John put on the kettle for tea. Dad just sat there, he looked exhausted. Murdo said, Mum would have loved it here Dad wouldnt she.

  Dad smiled.

  Uncle John was Dad’s relation by blood but Mum would have loved the adventure. Plus the house; detached bungalow-style with a basement, comfy and with wee ornaments and fancy-looking things. All of it, Mum would have loved it.

  Murdo was put in the basement. When Uncle John told Murdo he said, Great. Uncle John laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. Aunt Maureen had guessed he would choose that because it was what boys liked.

  But for Murdo it was only because it was out the way of things and he could relax and not have to bother about stuff. There was one big room and two wee ones and the stairs down opened into the big one. A mattress was on the floor but Aunt Maureen had prepared it like a bed with sheets and a duvet, and left two towels neat and folded on top of it. That was the towels. Ha ha to Dad. People gave ye towels if ye were a guest.

  With his two sons long gone Uncle John wanted to develop the basement properly. He hadnt got round to it yet but would in the future. A question of time, he said. Most of the space was taken up with furniture and stuff; cupboards, wardrobes and different types of tables; big polythene bags bundled together. Uncle John had shifted stuff to create space for Murdo roundabout the bed area but it was difficult to walk without banging into something, and the same in the two small rooms adjacent. But it was still good, and private too: Murdo liked that.

  Dad had brought him a bottle of whisky as a present. Uncle John examined the label: Very nice indeed. I’ll enjoy this. He stuck it away into a cupboard and brought another one out already opened. He poured wee ones for him and Dad and added a drop of water. Yeah, he said, you got relations everywhere Tommy. Now Molly Mulhearn, my own mother’s first cousin, we called her Auntie Molly, ever hear of her? she was a great old character.

  Uncle John carried on talking. It was good interesting stuff but Murdo was too tired. The thought of getting into bed! Dad too must have been tired. And what about Uncle John himself? He had been working all day then come to collect them, and tomorrow morning it was back to work – in six hours’ time! How do ye cope? asked Dad.

  I’m used to it, he said.

  Murdo smiled, smothering a yawn. Although past retiral age Uncle John had worked in the same full-time job for years, and traveled long distances. It had to do with maintenance, warehouses and stores, and clean bright offices too; factories and stores and a long long way away but nice because fields and valleys and clean bright offices, warehouses and the stores, he hadnt been able to get time off with the high maintenance, working weekends and all sorts was a sore point. Here they were, Dad and Murdo, and Uncle John was having to work. He had tried and tried but they didnt let him. Ye would think after all these years but no, they couldnt manage without him because like high technology was high maintenance, if ye couldnt go right it was disasters all round to do with everything, just everything and it was only him knew the ins and outs. Uncle John had stopped talking. Murdo opened his eyes and smiled. Uncle John was grinning. Away to yer bed son, ye’re out on yer feet.

  I was just…

  Ye were snoring!

  I wasnt, I’m fine.

  Away ye go.

  Okay.

  Dad smiled, he was sipping at his glass of whisky. Uncle John rose from his armchair and gave Murdo another cuddle thump thump thump. Take a sandwich and a glass of milk down with ye, he said.

  Are ye sure?

  Oh never say that in this house son! Aunt Maureen left them there to be eaten so ye better eat them. Ye’re in yer own house and ye’ve got to remember that. She’ll give ye what-for if ye dont! Ever heard of Geronimo?

  The Indian Chief, said Dad.

  Now ye’re talking Tommy that’s yer Aunt Maureen! Uncle John sat back down and lifted his whisky.

  Murdo was glad to get downstairs and close the door. He ate the sandwich then undressed, put the glass of milk at the side of the mattress, switched off the lights and was in between the sheets immediately.

  Where was the
glass of milk? The dark was so intense. His eyes adjusted eventually. Only the one wee window, high up where the wall met the ceiling.

  There was an old smell too. Maybe dampness. And a constant sound like wind swirling faraway, then a rushing sort of hollow noise, making ye think of outer space; these stories where the astronaut is sucked out the door and into orbit; currents of wind sucking ye out, except maybe ye dont get that in space, if everything is just the same then how can there be wind, there isnt any and there cannot be any. Or else things would move. Everything would move. But everything does move, everything does move, roundabout you. So it is the opposite of the wind, the wind inside out and you just filling a gap, sucked in filling a gap.

  *

  He was staring at the ceiling, staring at it for ages not knowing anything. But then was looking about. Wherever he was, he remembered; and pulled the duvet to his chin. Sunlight through the wee high-up window at the ceiling, a narrow strip of window. Up at ground level. This was the basement. Here they were. They were here! Murdo was out of bed at once, pulling a wooden chair to beneath the window. Not much space to walk. He stepped up on the chair to peer out but would have needed a step ladder to manage.

  The one drawback: the basement had no toilet. He had to use the bathroom at the top of the stairs; the one for the main house.

  The packet given him by Sarah lay next to the rucksack. Inside was the note and the two CDs. The one by Queen Monzee-ay and her band was a “greatest hits” compilation. The other was a selection of stuff. Murdo switched on the light to read the note. The gig was a week next Saturday at a place called Lafayette, 9 p.m. and the venue was the Jay Cee Lounge, which sounded like a bar, but that was okay. Murdo unpacked the rucksack to see what clothes he had brought. Probably not enough. Jeans and two shirts, joggers and T-shirts; a pair of shorts that did for swimming; underwear and socks. His idea was to wash stuff for the second week. He folded and stacked his clothes on top of a cupboard.

  He had no idea of the time except he was starving and needed the toilet. When he opened the basement door he heard voices drone. He went upstairs but the bathroom door was shut and somebody in showering, probably Dad.

  The voices came from the open-plan kitchen/dining area which was enormous compared to back home. But only Aunt Maureen was there, behind the kitchen counter watching television while preparing food. A weather report was showing. She became aware of Murdo suddenly and she laughed and came to meet him. Oh Murdo!

  He laughed too like as if they knew each other already. But they did, they did know each other. You are Murdo, she said. Of course you are!

  He made to shake her hand but she gave him a great cuddle instead, then stepped back to look him up and down. My Lord, she said, you are the spitting image! You are. She cuddled him again. You are the spitting image!

  Who of? asked Murdo.

  Everybody! My! How long since I seen you now son huh? What are we talking here is it ten years?

  I think it’s eleven.

  Eleven. My Lord and you are the spitting image!

  There was a choice for breakfast. He took a banana and a plate of cornflakes. There was a big table in the dining area but also stools at the counter. Murdo said, Will I just eat here?

  Sure.

  Murdo sat on a stool. Aunt Maureen chatted between doing her work and watching the weather report. This television channel was devoted to the weather and nothing else. All different aspects of that. But it was interesting. Hurricanes were coming in the direction of Florida. Real hurricanes. They could cause bad damage to people. They got it tough down there, said Aunt Maureen.

  In Florida?

  Oh yeah.

  Murdo hadnt known that. Usually Florida was a holiday destination. People with money went there for their holidays. So this was new information. He hadnt realised how big America was. Amazing difference in temperatures. It could be 130 degrees someplace then minus degrees someplace else. Blizzards and heatwaves, tornadoes and torrential rain. In California they had a place called Death Valley. Temperatures there were the hottest of all. Death Valley. You could go and visit. One of Aunt Maureen’s sons lived in California and had kids of his own, so her and Uncle John were grandparents.

  Murdo had thought she was Scottish but she wasnt. Her family was American “from the beginning”. Except going back further, yes, they were some kind of Scotch-Irish people. I dont bother too much about that, she said, except if I know them or if it is some-body’s folks but not like old ancestors from way way back. So how about you now Murdo, how was your traveling, all the way from Scotland, how did you do that?

  We went on the plane via Amsterdam in Holland.

  Holland huh!

  Then to Memphis here in America.

  But you got a boat someplace?

  Yeah, where we live it’s like an island. It isnt but it’s like one, ye need a ferry over to the mainland. Then the train to get the plane.

  Well now there you are!

  It was a long journey.

  Sure it was, said Aunt Maureen. The place we would like to see now your Uncle John and me, that’s Hawaii. We were on the west coast last year visiting the children; drove up Seattle way, my Lord, the sunset there huh, it was just so pretty, that’s the ocean. Got talking to folks and they said about Hawaii, how we would love it down there.

  Hawaii! said Murdo.

  I been three times to Scotland, huh. Three times. Yeah. No one ever come here. Never. You and your father now you are the first. Aunt Maureen frowned. You surprised about that?

  Yeah, I am.

  Well it is true son and I wonder about it too. I dont say it to your uncle but I do.

  Murdo heard a door closing. That’s Dad out the bathroom, he said and got up off the stool and went through.

  He returned to finish his cornflakes. Aunt Maureen was watching the weather channel. Gale force winds and a coastal town; huge waves blowing in over a wide road, guys taking selfies, jumping out the way of the water. A woman talked into the camera about damage to roofs and trees snapped in half and smashed onto cars crushing people. A total nightmare. Murdo carried his empty cereal bowl to rinse clean at the sink. You dont do that, said Aunt Maureen.

  Murdo grinned but upturned the empty bowl on the draining board. He said, Is it okay if I go outside?

  Huh?

  Is it okay if I go outside?

  Son you go where you want. This is your home and your family. You go ahead and you just do it. Dont go asking me.

  Thanks.

  No thanks about it.

  It was bright in the dining area. Glass doors led from there to the patio and garden. He swallowed the last of his orange juice, rinsed out the tumbler and upturned it next to the empty bowl. Aunt Maureen, he said, I think people would love to come here. Honest. They would love to come. It’s just they cant afford it. It costs too much money. Otherwise they would. They definitely definitely would. It’s smashing here.

  Aunt Maureen smiled.

  Honest.

  I hear you Murdo.

  The dining room doors opened directly onto a wooden patio. He headed outside. It was a good size of a garden, bounded by hedges tall enough to block off the neighbours’ view, but cluttered with junk; old-style garden furniture and children’s outdoor toys mainly, including a chute and swings, and a scooter and a bike with a wheel missing. There was an old garden shed too whose roof looked set to collapse. He prowled around. A football. What a find! It needed air but could be used. He kicked it around, tried a few keepy-uppies but soon stopped. So very warm and with the clear blue sky. Ye forgot about the sun how good it felt. This garden was so so different from Sarah’s but enjoyable in its own way. Ye would appreciate the privacy too, if ye wanted to sunbathe, and it was good for that here, definitely.

  *

  Murdo had returned downstairs and shoved on his swimming shorts. It was a new pair bought for coming here and they acted like ordinary shorts as well as for swimming. Between two cupboards in the corner of the room he found a stack
of books on the floor by the wall. The first one he lifted was cowboys and indians and it looked interesting. He took it upstairs. Aunt Maureen found a huge towel for him. More like a blanket. He had to pass Dad outside on the patio. There was like a roof here; spars of wood across the top gave shade. Dad was at the table reading.

  Down by the far hedge Murdo spread out the towel on the grass, took off his T-shirt for a tan and lay down on his front.

  Dad hadnt noticed him anyway. Although maybe he had and it just didnt register. When Dad was reading he switched off from everything. Murdo didnt. He wished he could. His concentration wandered for nothing, away thinking about stuff, until then he “came to”: Where am I? Dad tried to get him to read books. Once he started he enjoyed it but it was just starting. The one he brought from the basement was good. Okay, cowboys, but a not bad story and he was quite enjoying it: Cherokee Indians and settlers.

  After a while Dad called: Alright there!

  Hi Dad, yeah!

  Watch out for the sun!

  Okay.

  Too much of it isnay good.

  Yeah.

  They went back to reading again, then Murdo stopped and lay on his back, shielding his eyes from the sun. Later Aunt Maureen appeared from the house and called him onto the patio. A tray of sandwiches and a coffee each for him and Dad. Usually he didnt drink coffee. The smell put him off when he was young and he hadnt quite got over it. The only thing worse was cigarette smoke. He opened the slices of bread to see inside. Cheese salad.

  Dad waited until Aunt Maureen had gone, and smiled. What ye looking for inside the sandwich?

  I was just seeing what it was. Cheese salad…

  So what would have happened if it wasnay a cheese salad, would ye have sent it back to the chef?

  Murdo smiled, but Dad lowered the book. Seriously? he said. I know it’s just a habit.