Dirt Road (23 page)

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.

Even playing sometimes ye could see a girl's face, if she was looking at ye. Then it was like what are ye going to do? If she waits behind. Just go outside with her, or what? Other guys did, they said they did and had sex and all that. So they said, some of them. If ye believed them. Some of them ye did. Other ones ye didnay, just the usual crap boasting shit.

Murdo hardly talked after a gig anyway. Sometimes he forgot where he was. Usually he was tired. People maybe were wanting to chat. He just nodded as if he was listening but most times he wasnt. He couldnt concentrate; the conversation going on and on. Sometimes he needed to get away, outside the actual venue. A fiddler in the band smoked hash and he would be somewhere. Murdo just walked round the building. One time he did it and
the venue was a church hall. When he went round the back it was a graveyard and the fiddler was there smoking and jumped out his skin. Telling the guys later he called Murdo Count Dracula! Standing there having a smoke and out he comes like up from a coffin.

But it was funny. Ye got a laugh in bands. Murdo missed it, he missed playing, missed the company, having a laugh with the guys.

He kept around the edge of the area. Much of the space was empty now, cleared of tents and stalls. The marquee was still closed.

He didnt want to go in until the band started. People would be sitting about. Then it was Oh there's Murdo, and saying hullo and all that, Oh you're Murdo, hullo. Hullo back.

It was okay if it was Aunt Maureen, he could speak to her. Uncle John too. Dad would want to know what he had been up to and where had he been? Ye disappeared again? I didnay disappear Dad I just went a walk. People go walks. I was just walking, just like whatever, what does it matter.

*

Inside the marquee the tables had been shifted to accommodate the dancing and two rigged together as a sandwich and refreshments bar. Beer was available as well as soft drinks. It wasnt as busy as people expected but it was still okay and a cheery atmosphere. Dad and Murdo sat with Aunt Maureen and Uncle John who had managed to get a table down the far side. Dad had given Murdo another twenty dollars which made $90 all in. He still hadnt spent anything.

The musicians came from someplace up near Canada. They played ordinary Scottish-style country dance stuff but it was lively and brought people onto the floor, and ye had to respect that. They were playing a medley of reels when friends of Aunt Maureen and Uncle John stopped to say hullo, and pulled over chairs to sit with them. They hadnt been at the pot-luck night. The conversation was
to do with how things were at the Gathering, not as good as years gone past and how things had changed. They were talking about traditional country dancing. Uncle John made a comment about the dancers that made them smile. He called to Murdo: The Hielan Mishmash son eh!

Murdo grinned.

Tell us what it is?

Eh…

Murdo's a musician, said Uncle John. Accordeon son eh?

People gazed at him. Aunt Maureen was smiling. Dad smiled too.

You play accordeon? asked a man.

Yeah.

The Hielan Mishmash! Uncle John chuckled.

Murdo said, It's just where people dance but they dont know what they're dancing and just like clump about. He shrugged and drank a mouthful of apple juice. They were waiting for him to say more but what else was there?

That was Dad. Dad must have told Uncle John about it. The Hielan Mishmash was the name the guys gave country dancing back home when people just clumped about the floor. Take your partners for the Hielan Mishmash! They didnt know the steps and just pushed, pulled and twirled roundabout with plenty of hooching, hand-clapping and feet-stamping. Why not? Who cares if it is a reel, a jig, a waltz, a two-step or a polka, or a jive, if ye were there for a good time. It wasnt school.

People could be snobbish about Scottish country dancing and that included musicians. Ye had to play this, that and the next thing and ye could only do it in a certain way. Up to a point okay but ye needed room for yer own take. Even traditional stuff. If something was necessary ye did it. It was good when ye heard a tune ye knew and it turned into something else; it started from there and ended there, but where did it go in between! That was the fun, that was exciting.

This band werent like that. They did the usual. The usual was good, just maybe not all the time. Except for dancing, ye had to have dancing.

At the table Aunt Maureen said how nobody was calling the moves like happened in the old days and people were agreeing with her. But sometimes back home they still did it. It was good fun. Take your partner by the hand, lead them down right to the band, turn and curtsey how do you do, clap clap hands and boogie boo; the twos step up now threes and fours, back you go straight down the floor – everybody moving in a neat formation. Murdo spotted the couple with the Phil Campbell T-shirts on the floor. Ye felt like saying, Hullo, how are ye, I've seen ye on the map. He pointed them out to Aunt Maureen. She made a sad gesture at the band and at her own ears. The music was too loud for her. She called a question to him: You enjoying yourself son?

Yes.

She had asked him twice already. But he was. Dad had asked him as soon as he sat down. Probably because he didnt have anybody his own age. Uncle John asked him too, Ye enjoying yerself son? Yes. So how come ye arenay dancing! Why dont ye grab a lassie!

Uncle John seemed to think ye just went up to a girl and said, Hullo may I have this dance? If ye did they would just look at ye. Probably they thought he could dance. He couldnt. People think ye can because ye play the tunes. But ye cant. You just play the tunes, they do the dancing. Musicians dont dance. That was the good side of the Hielan Mishmash: ye just got up and that was that.

The conversation shifted to the music from this afternoon, not the event with Declan Pike but the session that followed with Clara, Chess and Murdo.

Guitar isnay even his instrument, said Uncle John, it's accordeon! Is that right son?