Dirt Road (24 page)

Murdo sipped at his drink. Yeah, he said, I suppose.

Aunt Maureen was smiling. So was Dad, but half looking at the table at the same time like he was a bit embarrassed.

Eventually Uncle John and one of the men went to the bar to place an order. A beer would have been good. Maybe Uncle John would buy him one. He had made a joke about it earlier on.

The one thing missing was a pal, so ye could just hang out, go for a walk or whatever, check things out. Then if ye did see a lassie, usually there were two together, so if a pal was with ye it made it like a foursome. On yer own it was pretty hopeless. Ye dont usually get “one girl”. A lot of “one guys” but lassies go in twos. Ye cannay ask one and not the other. Three together made it okay for one to ask one so if it was like the three girls from earlier on ye could ask one. Two would be left behind but that was okay. If the one with the white rose was there maybe Murdo could ask her. Maybe.

Aunt Maureen was chuckling, enjoying something Dad was saying to her – about Murdo, Murdo as a boy. Dad was talking about him. Another woman was listening to what Dad was saying and she peered at Murdo.

Murdo smiled at her, then got up and went a walk. He knew what Dad was telling them about, it was actually a story: The boy who fell down the pit.

Murdo headed across past the refreshments bar. It wasnt an actual pub so maybe there were no age restrictions. A beer would have been good. But $6 a bottle! That was what they were charging. He could have bought one and taken it outside to drink. Murdo continued along, skirting the dance area. People stood around the exit, smoking and toing and froing the portable toilets.

Outside it was quite deserted beyond the marquee area. Most every stall and tent had been taken down. This made it possible to see over to the carpark which was only a fraction full compared to the afternoon. Those who operated stalls and tents had dismantled them and just gone home. Murdo strolled for a little bit. It was kind of odd being here, in this landscape, the Scottish country
dance music blaring through the external speakers, though it wasnt blaring and didnt carry all that far.

When he returned inside Uncle John was by the entrance, chatting to a couple of older guys who were both wearing the kilt. Murdo! he said. Where've ye been? I was looking for ye!

I was only out a minute!

Ye're aye disappearing!

No I'm not.

Uncle John put his arm round him and drew him closer. My nephew from Scotland, Murdo.

Hi Murdo, nice to meet you. You know the isle of Skye?

Yeah.

I went over three years ago with my wife and daughter. It was wonderful.

The other man pointed at the kilt he was wearing. This is the Macleod tartan. You know the Macleods?

Yeah.

I'm a Tormod. There's Torquils and Tormods.

Okay, said Uncle John. He smiled at the two men and led Murdo a few paces off. He spoke quietly: So ye enjoying the music son?

Yeah.

What do ye think of the accordeon player?

Yeah… He's fine.

Uncle John held him by the elbow. Ssh, he said, I had a wee word with him. Ye're alright for one. Just wait till the break. Then you go up.

Murdo hardly heard.

Uncle John said, I asked him for ye.

Murdo nodded.

What I'm saying son I asked him for ye. I'm talking about doing one on the accordeon. They'll be taking a break in a minute then you go up. Uncle John smiled.

No. Thanks but eh no.

It's fine son ye just go up during the break.

No what it is Uncle John, really, I'm not eh…

Son it'll be alright, it's no anything to worry about.

I know, I mean I just eh… I would rather not.

Uncle John gazed at him.

Is that okay?

Of course. No bother at all son, it's only if ye wanted to. The guy's happy to oblige. Ye would just go up at the break. Uncle John said, Nobody's forcing ye!

Thanks.

It was only if ye wanted to.

Thanks Uncle John.

Uncle John patted him on the side of the arm, then returned to the company of the two older men.

Murdo walked along by the rear of the marquee. A row of chairs was lined closeby the canvas with a passageway between it and the second end row. The good thing back here was the shadows. Only the dance area was brightly lit. He might have sat down except it was tricky finding free space. Couples sat together and ye were too close to them. They would think ye were trying to whatever, listen in.

The idea of playing one, it was not on. There was nothing wrong with Uncle John asking, it was just impossible. He was still there with the two old guys, now standing aside to let pass a woman with a laden tray. Ye could see her smiling, so he had made a jokey comment. Uncle John was good. He tried to help and make things happen for people. Maybe Murdo could have played.

He couldnt.

Aunt Maureen was talking to Dad now. More stories. Dad glanced roundabout, probably wondering about Murdo. Where Murdo was sitting was quite shadowy and Dad wouldnt have seen him. So this was him disappeared again! That was Dad, disappeared. The story about “The boy who fell down the pit”. It was one Dad told them when he was wee, him and Eilidh. He would have been four, so Eilidh seven. It was one with a moral to it. Ye were
not to wander off or bad things would happen. The wee boy in the story used to wander off by himself and his Mum and Dad were fed up giving him rows about it. One day he went into the forest and fell down a pit. Help me help me! Get me out! Nobody heard his screams. His Mum and Dad thought he was lost and gone forever. He was trapped down there for days and he had to eat worms and spiders and beetles. All the creepy crawlies. He had to eat them all or starve to death. Except not the frog! He would not eat the frog. There was a frog down the bearpit but the boy wouldnay eat it. Frogs come from tadpoles and the boy liked tadpoles.

Murdo knew that was right because he liked tadpoles as well. Eilidh didnt. She was like Oh of course he would eat it. Why wouldnt he? Of course he would! That was Eilidh. He would have to eat it else he would starve to death! If it was France he would eat it. People eat frogs' legs in France. They nibble them.

Are the frogs wearing them? said Murdo.

Good question, said Dad who told it to Mum. Are the frogs wearing their legs when people nibble them?

The boy didnt eat the frog because the frog was his pal, and nobody would eat their pal! If he had he would never have got out the bear pit. Because that was how he escaped. He climbed on the frog's back and out they hopped. It was a good story. Dad used to tell them. Even if he gave ye a row; after the row was over and ye were getting put to bed he sat down with ye and told ye a story, Murdo and Eilidh, just the two of ye there and him sitting, and quiet, ha ha, that was Dad.

Last song before the break: A Dashing White Sergeant. Some knew the steps but most didnt. Ye could learn if ye wanted. The web was full of these instruction videos. But who cares? Ye want to relax and not have to go and do stuff.

What was interesting here was how the fiddle took the lead and that gave it an American feel. Murdo thought so. But it might just have been hearing the fiddle, thinking of Chess Hopkins – it wasnay
Macpherson played the fiddle on “Macpherson's Farewell”, it was him. The fiddler here was nowhere even close to Chess Hopkins.

But so what, if he was doing his best? Maybe he was.

There was a sadness in music. Even if it was cheery, or supposed to be cheery, ye still heard it. Even The Dashing White Sergeant.

*

During the break he walked about. He was back at the table when the band began a medley they introduced as “The Happy Hoedown”. There was a cheer and an immediate rush for the floor when people heard the opening tune. They grabbed partners, whooping and punching the air.

A man had been talking to Aunt Maureen and Dad and they were straining to hear what each other was saying. Murdo wasnt trying to listen. He couldnt hear anyway. The man had a beer in one hand and kept giving angry looks at the band. But it wasnt the band's fault. Dad and Aunt Maureen seemed to agree with the man but surely if people wanted a conversation they should have shifted to the back of the marquee? Uncle John was away doing that, sitting with a couple of men at the side, but that was them. Most people wanted to dance. They were there for a good time. What was wrong with that?

A woman was heading towards Dad, coming straight towards him. There was no mistaking this; stretching out her right hand, her forefinger pulling and beckoning him to come to her. Murdo hadnt seen her before. Aunt Maureen called to her: Hi Ruthie!

The woman seemed not to see Aunt Maureen and was wagging her finger at Dad like she was giving him a row. It was quite, in a way, comical, seeing Dad like this. But weird. When she took both his hands and yanked him up off the chair he allowed it. He smiled at Murdo and Aunt Maureen like Oh I'm helpless, I'm helpless. Then he was on the floor with her and standing,
they were looking for a gap, then they were dancing. Dad. Dancing.

Murdo sipped his juice and watched how he was doing it. He knew a few of the steps. The woman was good. She looked to be leading Dad, holding his waist and guiding him through bits. They stayed on the floor for the next dance too.

That was something, Dad, imagine Dad.

One tune the band played was the “Ballad of Glencoe”. Murdo could have grabbed the accordeon for that. He could sing it too:

Oh cruel was the snow

that sweeps Glencoe

and covers the grave o' Donald

It was a waltz. Dad was still there with the woman. Aunt Maureen was gazing at dancers too. There was a spare seat next to her. Murdo moved onto it. Hi Aunt Maureen.

Well hi Murdo you enjoying yourself?

Yeah.

It's nice.

Yeah.

And he was enjoying himself. Although nothing was going to happen. He knew that. It didnt matter. Being here was great and just seeing everything, how everything was. Okay if he had had a pal they would have had a laugh, maybe chatted to a couple of girls or whatever.

Dad and the woman danced past. Aunt Maureen smiled seeing them. Ruthie Lawrence, she said.

Later Aunt Maureen was still smiling. It was another tune by then. Just that way she was looking at the people on the floor, that smile, smiling to see them. Murdo could have drawn her, if he had had a pen or a pencil, to try and get how she was looking, this way she was watching the dancers like even she wasnt watching them at all but over the tops of their heads, and her eyes and just below the lines there, that was the lines from smiling, she did
smile, worrying too. She didnt dress up much but tonight she had.

And this necklace she was wearing. She had on this necklace and it was like sparkling, really sparkling. Murdo hadnt seen it before. Maybe she hadnt worn it before. Not during the day anyway. Definitely not. Maybe it was diamonds? It could have been. Murdo leaned to her. Aunt Maureen, he said, that's a brilliant necklace.

She squinted round at him.

It's really…it's just, it's really really nice.

He still gives the presents Murdo, he still manages to do that. Aunt Maureen smiled, fingering the necklace.

Do ye fancy a dance? he said.

Huh? You want to son?

Please, yeah, if eh…

I dont mind. Aunt Maureen stood to her feet carefully.

That's great, he said. She put one hand out to him and he held it, walking with her onto the floor. Ye're looking great, he said, I think ye're just…

Aunt Maureen frowned.

No, he said.

Oh yeah you can flatter huh! It's a family trait I reckon.

Murdo laughed. When they were on the floor they stood by the edge. He put his hands to Aunt Maureen's upper arms. She glanced at the other dancers. What is this one? she asked.

I think it's a jig.

Huh, I thought it was too.

Aunt Maureen I've got to say, I'm a hopeless dancer.

She nodded. We'll try a two-step Murdo, a fast one. One two shuffle, one two shuffle but kind of fast. You wont fall down. Jigs is kind of tricky.

She adjusted his hands and waited, looking to see a space; they set off. Aunt Maureen slowed to a stop. Now Murdo you're going backwards, she said, dont you go backwards: you got to lead me; you are the man here.

Okay.

Dont watch the floor too much.

Yeah but if I kick ye?

Dont worry about that, she said. Where I come from people wear boots and it dont stop them. Throw the sugar on the floor and off they set. You know what a clod hopper is?

No.

You dont huh. They got them clogs and go hop hop hopping along.

People were coming and Murdo was going to side-step away but Aunt Maureen kept him on the same track. She was good at dancing. He had expected that. They danced a path round the edge of the dance area but were not going as well as all that. They seemed to be then lost the rhythm. It was Murdo's fault. Aunt Maureen smiled. You just got to concentrate Murdo, that's what it is.

Murdo felt his hands sweaty and was aware of them on her dress, his hands maybe gripping her so they creased the material instead of just holding her, palms and fingers. He wasnt sure if Aunt Maureen noticed. She was humming under her breath. Murdo kept going, one two shuffle, not thinking too much, one two shuffle, one two shuffle.

*

Late night on the road home, the 4x4, Uncle John driving, Dad in the front passenger seat, Aunt Maureen and Murdo in the rear. Murdo was awake but must have been dozing. Silence but for the hum of the car engine. Uncle John and Dad talking, they were talking. Not now, and no radio. Murdo yawned. Aunt Maureen had noticed and smiled, then gazed back out the window. The silence continued until Uncle John said, Of course he's Irish…

I thought he was American, said Dad.

Talking family, he's a descendant.

I thought his mother was from Glasgow.

Aw yeah, from way back but Declan! Know what I mean that aint Scottish. Who's called Declan? It's Irish. A name like that. Oireesh. He's Oireesh. I dont know about her; the woman he came with.