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Authors: June Ahern

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BOOK: The Skye in June
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It was a fun time in the MacDonald house. Since many of the guests also had young children, the party wo
uld start in the early evening of New Year’s Eve. The girls were so excited they stayed up until late the night before, giggling and talking before falling asleep. The next morning they hurried around the house finishing last minute household chores before changing into their party clothes, readying themselves for the guests.

Cathy brushed each of the girls
’ hair until it shined, or, in June’s case, laid down and stayed in place with two pretty yellow barrettes on each side. She decorated her other daughters’ hair with ribbons the same color as their dresses.

Annie wore a forest-green dress with gold threads running through it. Maggie wore a
dress of plush cranberry velvet and Mary donned a soft champagne lace dress that emphasized the gold in her brown eyes.


Oh Mary, we must get a picture of you for Granda! You look lovely,” Cathy said.

June
’s royal blue tunic and white blouse vividly accentuated her blue eyes and red hair.


Heel, toe, heel, toe,” June said gleefully as she tap danced into the living room to show her father her new outfit.

“You’re
beautiful, pet!” he gushed over her.

June
’s heart soared and her face radiated with joy from the rare kind attention from her father.

Cathy, too, had on her new dress. The dove-gray satin dress had three large onyx buttons on the bodice that ended at her waist, cinched smaller by a wide black belt. The skirt puffed out with help from the petticoat borrowed from Tesia. The wide v-neck collar showed off a necklace of cut glass that sparkled like diamonds. The necklace was a surprise Christmas present from Jimmy, who usually gave her practical gifts.

“Cocktail,
honey
?” Jimmy called out from the kitchen. The girls, who were in the kitchen opening Coca-Colas, giggled at his use of the word honey, an American endearment.

With her satin dress swishing, Cathy entered the kitchen. Jimmy whistled,
“My God, woman, ye look smashing! You’ll be the belle of the ball,” he kissed her cheek, not wanting to mess up her red lipstick.

The girls stared at their mother in awe. Maggie said she looked like a movie star.

 

With the chime of the doorbell, everyone ran off to greet the first guest. They hurried into position, eager to view the first footer waiting downstairs at the door to the building. They were ready for a dark-haired man to walk through the door, signaling good luck in the New Year. What they saw was Sandy
’s thinning blonde hair as he stepped over the threshold and into the lobby of the building.

“Sandy! For God’
s sake, get out, man!” Jimmy yelled down to him.

The mistake was Mark
’s fault.

It had been pre-arranged by Jimmy that the first foot would
enter in the early evening and not wait until midnight so the children could join in the ritual. Jimmy had asked Ian, a Scottish friend who was a tall man with black hair. But before Ian could step into the building, Mark had pushed ahead of him. As Sandy reached past Ian to pull his son back, he had stumbled through the door when it opened. As fate would have it, light haired, balding Sandy was the first person with a foot in the MacDonalds’ building on Hogmanay.

The girls hung over the banister booing boisterously at Mark as his father backed out, dragging his son by the scruff of the neck. Ian bounded up the stairs. Hoping to smooth over the error, he adamantly protested that he did indeed have the first foot in the flat. He handed Jimmy the traditional Hogmanay gifts.

“Fatty, bratty Marky,” said Maggie mockingly when Mark dashed by.

Huffing and puffing, Nancy arrive
d at the top of the landing and in her loud American voice, scolded the Scots on how silly they were to be so superstitious.

A stout Scottish woman coming up behind her said,
“Wheesht, silly woman.”

At first, guests were a bit sober from the unexpected event
, but it didn’t last for long. The adults soon had a few glasses of cheer and the party began.

More guests arrived, singing out the traditional Hogmanay greeting,
“A good year to you!” They brought gifts of food and spirits: whiskey, malt beer, and gin. As the day went on, the story about the blond first foot made its rounds and the celebrators kidded about what kind of bad luck might befall the MacDonalds in the coming year.

Inspired, June rushed down the hallway and came back into the living room with the picture of her angel and a roll of Scotch tape. She asked Uncle Sandy to put it up on the wall. When it was secure, Ian
’s wife exclaimed, “Look. Doesn’t it remind you of back home in Skye? Especially around the Dunvegan area?”


Aye, could be. Och, with those flowers, could be anywhere in Skye,” Ian answered, returning to his plate of food and glass of whiskey. 

June looke
d at him curiously, wondering, flowers in the sky? Maybe Uncle Ian is like me. Maybe he can see things other people don’t. She reminded herself to ask Mrs. G if she ever saw flowers in the sky.

The mood lightened and the singing of Scottish songs became the main activity. Each person had a turn to entertain by singing a favori
te tune. Before the party ended and in keeping with another Hogmanay tradition, the adults and children stood in a circle crisscrossing hands, right over left, and sang the famous Scottish song, “
Auld Lang Syne.”
June was bewildered as the adults’ laughing voices changed to sad tones. Some of the women cried openly as they sang together, “Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and the days of auld lang syne!

When June saw Annie
’s eyes mist over, she asked, “You going to cry?” Annie shook her head and bit her lower lip and pulled her hands away from the chain. June thought she heard her say, “Granny.”

After t
he guests gathered up their coats and children and said good-bye, Jimmy told the girls to go to bed. In the bedroom June asked Annie why people were sad singing the last song. Her sister explained they were sad to be so far away from their families. She said part of the song asked if people were supposed to forget their old friends and the times they shared together.


I’ll never, ever forget Granda and Granny B and how good they were to us,” Annie said adamantly.

Maggie began to talk about the friends they left behind in Scotl
and. They agreed that Wee Gordie, their cousin, was like Mark––a spoiled brat. Auntie Patsy was their favorite aunt and Uncle Peter always said the funniest things. Helen was remembered with sad sighs and a collective, “We love you.” 


Will we ever go back to Scotland?” Mary asked, her voice quivering. They knew how much she missed Granda B.

June piped up that someday she would go back
and they could go with her. Excitedly, she added, “Granda B was at our party today. He came in before Uncle Sandy did and kissed Mommy.”

The sisters rolled their eyes simultaneously and groaned,
“Oh, shut up.”

Mary added,
“You’re going to get in trouble for making up big faker stories.”

June huffe
d, hurt that her sisters didn’t believe she saw Granda B. Before she could argue, their mother popped her head in the door, telling them to go to sleep if they wanted to go to Playland the next day to celebrate Annie’s tenth birthday. The light was switched off immediately.

* * * * *

Chapter 16

NEWS FROM SCOTLAND

 

“I LOVE A SAUSAGE,”
June sang out gaily as she scampered down the long staircase to where the mail slot banged moments earlier, announcing the daily delivery. She let out a dramatic gasp when she arrived back at the top of the polished wooden stairs. Her small hands thumbed through the mail searching for a blue airmail letter. Finding one, she ran to her mother and thrust the letter from Scotland into her hands. She was eager to enjoy the ritual of a cup of tea with milk and sugar and freshly baked goods as her mother read the news from home. June settled onto a kitchen chair and licked her lips in anticipation of the morning’s baked oatmeal cookies.

Her mother started to read the letter out loud. After reading
“Dear Cathy, Jimmy and family,”

her eyes quickly scanned the letter and she cried out,
“Oh no!”

Puzzled, June sat quietly waiting, but her mother didn
’t utter another word. Minutes ticked away on the clock before she ventured a query, “Are we going to have tea now?”


What?” Cathy said, forgetting that June was there. “No,” she said sternly, “Go downstairs. Ask Mrs. G if you can stay there until somebody comes to get you.”

C
athy got up from the table and with letter in hand, stoically strode down the hallway to the living room. Frightened by her mother’s odd behavior, June followed, tiptoeing silently behind her.


I can’t believe they’d no tell me right away,” Cathy babbled angrily.

Suddenly, Cathy started sobbing with abrupt gasps for breath. With each choking cry that escaped her mother
’s mouth, June’s head spun with waves of dark colors. Her own breath shortened as she listened to her mother shouting, with fists waving upward, “It’s too late, Daddy! Do you hear me? Too late!”

June stopped in her tracks, intuiting the aura of death. The frightened girl spun around and ran to the back stairs, away from her mother
’s madness and toward the safety of Mrs. G’s flat.

Mrs. G was folding clothes wh
en June burst in. She looked up smiling, expecting to see an excited, happy face and hear another colorful tale. Instead she saw June’s frantic face, white as snow, with her blue eyes round like those of a wild cat.


Oh, my little friend, you look like a ghost chase you!” Mrs. G exclaimed.

Paralyzed with confusion, June stood in the doorway, doorknob in hand and mouth agape, unable to answer. Mrs. G went across the kitchen to enfold the trembling girl into her ample bosom. Softly, she crooned a lullaby, but June pulled away from the maternal hug to look intensely at her trusted friend.

“Mammy’s going away again,” she whimpered. “You come and tell her not to do that.”

June was always scared on the days when her mother sat for hours staring out the window, crying and talking to herself. She would find company with Mrs. G until her older sisters returned from school.

“She not well again,” Mrs. G said, sighing.

June led her old friend upstairs to Cathy. With joints aching, Mrs. G groaned and grunted as she slowly hiked up the steep back stairs.

The January chill permeated throughout the large flat, with its high ceilings and long, drafty hallway, which made it appear gloomy. The old woman moved slowly down the hallway and then stopped to catch her breath. June waited patiently behind her.

When Mrs. G placed a hand over her heaving chest, June worried that so
mething bad would happen to her also. A tremendous sense of sadness gripped the little girl’s heart. She started to whimper.


Ah, my little friend, I feel something very sad has happened to your family. But, I help,” Mrs. G said as she continued down the hallway too painstakingly slow for June.

Cathy sat in front of an open window, staring into space, not moving an inch. She nervously rubbed the letter between her forefinger and thumb. Although she wore only a light cardigan over her dress, she seemed oblivious to the frosty winter air surrounding her.

Mrs. G shuffled into the living room and immediately shut the window. Wearily, she collapsed into the horsehair armchair.

In a strained voice, Cathy said,
“My father died. He has been sick for a while with stomach cancer. Still, I didn’t think he’d go this fast.” She stopped and covered her mouth. Her hand fell to her lap and her voice trembled.


He died on Hogmanay. They buried him a fortnight ago. My family didn’t want to let me know earlier. Didn’t want to ruin my holidays, they said.” She turned to Mrs. G and said, without looking directly at her, but past her, “We never had a chance to…” Her eyes roamed the room as though searching for something. She sighed deeply and her shoulders sagged. “To forgive each other.”

“Ah,
the ghost of the past never let go of our hearts,” Mrs. G said so softly that only June heard her.

Neither woman paid any attention to June
’s worried eyes peering from behind the door and into the room where she saw a small glowing aura of light forming behind her mother. It grew into a shape of a young girl. It wasn’t Helen. The image looked almost like her angel, except that she wore a simple green dress. June started to point to the image when Mrs. G’s voice broke the spell and the apparition vanished.


You need your family. I go get the girls from school today. But first I phone your husband to come home.”

BOOK: The Skye in June
4.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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