Dirt Road. James Kelman
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at Murdo.
Does he drink a beer? Uncle John asked Dad.
Dad said nothing. Murdo answered, I’m happy with orange juice.
Good for you, said Uncle John.
He’s a boy, said Aunt Maureen, you’re forgetting that.
Well I’m not forgetting it. Uncle John pushed a beer to Dad. Trouble with this place, he said, ye need a car. You should’ve brought yer licence Tommy! Then ye could get out and about.
Dad shrugged.
What about buses? said Murdo. Is there no buses?
Uncle John smiled. If there are son nobody knows!
So do people just walk?
They do that slow running kind of thing, said Aunt Maureen.
Power-walking, said Uncle John.
Not power-walking mister that’s fast-walking.
Jogging.
Aint jogging. I dont know what you call it. I see them doing it at the mall. Round and round they go. They dont buy nothing, they go there for the walk. They all got partners.
Partners? said Murdo.
Yes sir. They go in twos. Three’s a crowd son that’s the old saying. Aunt Maureen chuckled. My Lord!
Uncle John laughed. Dad was smiling. Uncle John raised his glass but instead of sipping the whisky he stared at Dad: Why didnt ye all come those years ago, when ye had the papers and everything? Uncle John waited a moment. It was your father.
You talking about when I was a boy?
Yeah. Your mother would have come. It was him made that decision. She didnt get the chance. Uncle John sighed. I know she would have come Tommy. You know why I know that? Because she told me. Uncle John sat back in his chair.
Aunt Maureen said to Murdo, Your mother was a lovely person.
His grandmother, said Dad. She was Murdo’s grandmother Aunt Maureen. She was my mother.
Oh of course she was Tommy I am so sorry! Yes and she was a fine lady. She took us to church. That was the parish church and it was Scottish Presbyterian right there in Glasgow.
Well where else would it be? chuckled Uncle John.
She was good fun, said Murdo. I remember her.
Dad glanced at him. You were only a child.
Yes but I remember her.
Do ye?
Yes Dad, really. She made me laugh.
Aunt Maureen was quiet a moment. That is a beautiful thing to say. I hope somebody says it about me.
Och of course they will, said Uncle John.
She’s in a better place now. Aunt Maureen reached to Dad to hold his hand, and she stroked the back of it. Like your own sweet girl, the good Lord knows, she’s walking with Jesus.
Dad hardly moved, except his shoulders a little. Uncle John swallowed a mouthful of beer.
She is, replied Aunt Maureen.
Uncle John smiled when Murdo glanced at him. When Aunt Maureen said “girl” she wasnt meaning Eilidh it was Mum, Mum was Dad’s girl, his girlfriend, his wife. The one “walking with Jesus” was Dad’s mum, Murdo’s granny.
Murdo hadnt thought of it before, just how close they were, Dad and Uncle John, and Aunt Maureen.
Uncle John patted Murdo on the side of the shoulder. You’ve had hard knocks Murdo boy, that’s what ye get in families. So you got to stick together. Folks get hit by things, tragedies and whatnot, they stick together.
Aunt Maureen peered at Murdo. Oh now he is like his mother?
You talking his mother or Tommy’s?
Both, she said.
Uncle John laughed and she did too but it was how Dad laughed! That was the real amazing thing. Dad just burst out with it like a real actual laugh! The three of them laughing away. Murdo laughed seeing them. Uncle John went off talking about some old guy, a distant cousin. Alabama in the old days. Kentucky too, where Aunt Maureen came from. Then a bird landed on the grass a little way down. It walked about. Not hopping, walking. It was weird-looking, with a long tail and a bluish purple colour. Uncle John was saying about another of the old relations, Uncle Donald, who married a woman from Knoxville called Molly.
Related to the Mulhearns, said Aunt Maureen, their daughter married a Gillespie and moved to Arizona.
He was a character, said Uncle John.
He was a mean nasty old man. That’s why his family left; soon as they were old enough.
He had a hard life.
Huh! Aunt Maureen shook her head.
He did.
Dont go excusing him now you know how he was to that poor woman.
Yeah and I’m not excusing him. Uncle John continued on about Uncle Donald and how he was and Aunt Maureen too, who knew the old woman involved. Dad was listening, and seemed to know the people or maybe had heard of them or something and was enjoying it in that relaxed way Murdo hadnt seen for a long while.
That bird was still there, pecking about in the grass. It had a strange face. At the same time ye could see how the face of a bird can be like the face of a human. There was a famous painting of a man with the head of a bird. This one had bright eyes squinting about. Squinty and sharp equals mean and nasty. Maybe it was a human thousands of years ago. Some believed the spirit of a dead person flitted into an animal, a bird or a fish. Or an insect. Some Indian chiefs wore headdresses made of feathers. Uncle John was talking again. Murdo got up from the chair, attracting Dad’s attention to point towards the house. Dad would know he meant the bathroom. But when he exited the bathroom he went downstairs to the basement; he just needed a break.
The basement was the best space possible. Okay it had no air-conditioning but so what? The privacy and just like how it was yer own place; ye couldnt beat it. Although the light was so so dim. Heavy shadows, ye wondered about spiders’ webs. That was the trouble being low down; things could crawl onto the mattress. Uncle John had said about cockroaches and how not having air-conditioning was a good thing, otherwise they would have been worse. Murdo thought maybe he was kidding but Aunt Maureen said how insects needed moisture and dampness, same for mosquitoes. Dont put ponds in yer garden. Unless ye want mosquitoes. Mosquitoes bring the birds. Ye can shoot a bird. Makes a stew.
***
Next morning he stayed longer in bed. He was awake then back asleep. People said about jet lag so maybe it was that. He needed a shower but was starving. Dad was in the garden when he came upstairs; Aunt Maureen sipping coffee at the kitchen counter. Murdo moved about getting his breakfast. A hot day was forecast. Murdo hoped there was a beach nearby but there wasnt. Up country was a big valley where people went with lakes for swimming and water sports. Uncle John planned on taking them the weekend after next. This coming Saturday he had something else planned if things went right at work and no emergency call-outs.
Aunt Maureen made a pot of coffee. Even the smell was strong. She said to try it like she did: half and half milk. He was happy with fruit juice. She poured an extra coffee: Hey Murdo you take this out to your father?
Of course. I was just like—yeah, of course.
That okay?
Of course, I was just eh . . . of course.
Nothing, he was just nothing. Dad didnt see him come through the doorway, didnt lift his head from the book until the coffee was on the table. Then he looked up: Okay?
Yeah.
Good.
Dad reached for the coffee. Murdo returned to the house. While closing the glass doors he saw Dad lower the book and clasp his hands