Dirt Road. James Kelman
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inside out and could do what he liked with it, jazzing it up with his take on this new way of doing it. It was fine, he knew it was. Queen Monzee-ay focused on his playing, giving the briefest of smiles. She came up close and laughed, You are the croutons boy!
He kept it going then caught her signal and stepped aside. She came in where the next verse should have been and ran somewhere else. It was brilliant what she did. Her playing reminded Murdo of a guy used to play mandolin in the band. He was only there a short period but for the time he was it was one of the best times ever they had. Where he led you followed. Where to? Anywhere. Wherever he took ye! That was where ye went. His playing led ye into it, and ye got there and just jumped off. Murdo loved that, and here now with Queen Monzee-ay. She was in that league; she brought it out. It was there in ye and she brought it out.
When they stopped for a break she and Sarah did funny curtseys to him and he did a stupid kind of bow. Queen Monzee-ay said, How long you been playing the box Murdo? She pointed at the turquoise. I’m talking that one right there. You played that one before . . . !
Murdo smiled, then replied, Yeah, it’s kind of good.
So how long you been playing?
Well like since I was a boy, nine or ten.
Yeah.
I’m coming up for seventeen.
Old man huh! Queen Monzee-ay chuckled. Sounded good huh, two boxes?
Definitely. Two boxes is always like well special, it can be special.
Yeah. Yeah, it sure can. When it happens son but aint too often it happens. Session this morning now it’s toward a thing we’re doing two weeks from now. You know I am retired!
Sarah cried: Gran you’re not retired.
Queen Monzee-ay smiled.
You’re not retired.
Sure honey, I can do gigs, one-off gigs.
She got to be invited first, muttered Aunt Edna.
They all invite Gran, said Sarah.
Queen Monzee-ay winked at Murdo. Blood of my blood.
Sarah said, But they do invite you they all invite you. If you see on YouTube, you dont look but if you did, these old clips and what folks are saying.
I know. Queen Monzee-ay smiled.
They all want to invite you.
Yeah and the band honey, like this time too, they want the band alongside me. I said no to that. Queen Monzee-ay shrugged, and said to Murdo, I dont mobilise the boys nowadays except it’s something worthwhile, and there aint much of that these days.
Zydeco dont travel, said Aunt Edna.
Oh we get around some, said Queen Monzee-ay.
Only they dont like to pay, muttered Aunt Edna. Oh please come please come; please come play for us Miss Monzee-ay you are a legend, an all-time star of the world; you are the Queen of Zydeco music. Only we cant pay you no money!
Queen Monzee-ay chuckled. She still gets angry!
Sure I get angry. You got to live on fresh air.
Sarah’s brother Joel had brought them coffee on a tray. He also brought drinks for Murdo, Sarah and himself; fizzy stuff with ice and bits of ginger and green herb leaves floating, but tasty.
Oh Aunt Edna, said Sarah, tell Murdo about the band not getting paid that time like when you brought out the “piece”!
You tell him. Aunt Edna said, I need to smoke.
Yeah, said Queen Monzee-ay, taking off her accordeon and propping it against the wooden surround. She rose to her feet, massaging her side.
Both the older ladies smoked. They lifted their coffees and moved from the porch to where chairs were set on the grass. They sat there smoking cigarettes. An older man came to sit with them and they chatted, out of earshot.
Sarah continued the story: You know a “piece” is a handgun Murdo? Aunt Edna helped Gran and the band out sometimes, like on the road? Organising the money. Joel and me grew up on these stories and they are so wonderful. Our mother told us too, from when she was a kid. Gran took her on the road.
Jeesoh!
Yeah, said Joel. All over. That was Ma’s education like dives and joints and blues clubs man zydeco and jazz and like whoh! She like . . . man, that was her, that was her education.
Murdo laughed.
You play in a band? said Sarah.
Yeah well . . . Murdo looked at her.
You always want to play music?
Murdo shrugged. Yeah.
She’s a writer, said Joel.
I’m not a writer.
Yeah you are.
Sarah sighed, closing her eyes. I want to be a writer.
She’s going to do the course, said Joel. It’s like a college course?
Dad says I should go to New York City but Ma says it’s too cold.
She means dangerous, said Joel. New York City is dangerous.
It’s not dangerous.
Ma says it is. Dad too.
Oh yeah they want the west coast, but how dangerous is that, like LA? My God! They take pistols to class.
No they dont. Joel chuckled.
Yes they do.
No they dont.
I dont care, said Sarah, they got courses anyplace you want to name; Creative Writing Programs, and it’s like anything you want; poetry and fiction-writing; feature movies; documentary you know like politics; even a novel, imagine a novel! Oh my God! Sarah danced a step, then paused and sighed. Gran lived on the west coast for years. Her and the band . . . Sarah sighed. Dad says I dont need to go anywhere, they got courses here in Mississippi.
Huh! Joel shook his head.
Yeah, said Sarah, but it’s the program’s important Joel and they got some closeby. Dad says so. Ma too.
Oh yeah, yeah, they just want you home.
Sarah was silent for a moment. How come you are here Murdo?
Oh. Well, yeah . . . Murdo frowned.
Like here in Allentown?
Yeah. I dont know, we just eh . . . we were traveling to Alabama and that is east really; so how come Allentown like heading south, yeah, I dont know. I looked at the map in the bus station and it was like how come we landed here if it should be east?
Didnt you know this was Mississippi?
Mississippi? No, I mean like not Dad either, my father, I dont think he knew either.
Sara and Joel grinned.
Dad’s doing the directions. I think it was bad information up in Memphis like us getting a bus from there then like missing the bus here; even the bus driver I mean he was not helpful.
You missed the bus here? said Sarah.
Yeah well anyway who cares.
Queen Monzee-ay was watching from her chair, and she gave a wave. Murdo waved back, and got a bad feeling in his stomach. It sounded like he was poking fun at Dad and he wasnt. He didnt mean to. It was me anyway, he said. I forgot my phone so like for directions. Murdo shrugged. My Dad’s fine, he said. Really, he’s fine. It’s not his fault at all, it’s mine. Missing the bus was my fault like I mean not his. It’s just eh we dont talk that much really, being honest. My mother died eh . . . Murdo smiled. Sorry, he said, just eh . . .
Oh Murdo, said Sarah.
He scratched his brow. Yeah, quite recent, so it’s . . . it’s been tough