Dirt Road (22 page)

People were waiting for Chess. Murdo saw how they paid attention. When he was ready he spoke out the corner of his mouth: Old Napoleon now watch him go, he's on the retreat again.

Murdo knew the tune but different to this. The funny thing here was the actual feel Chess was getting. Murdo wondered what it was, but then obvious, it was Scottish. Was it Scottish? Murdo hadnt heard it played this way before. But he knew it and knew what to do with it. He was keeping time, tapping his fingers on the body of the guitar and whatever like he was ready to play, and he was ready to play, he was. Chess looked the question at him, how if he did want to play then that would be fine. Murdo slipped the strap over his shoulders. A wee rhythm just, to let the fiddle go. Murdo played that in, keeping it on keeping it on, watching
and hearing what Chess did and going with that, a swing forwards now the fiddle was freed up.

Chess didnt look anywhere. Some look at things and some dont; some close their eyes. Chess didnt close his but neither did he look at anything. His playing was different. Maybe an older style. Murdo didnt hear playing like this much. But he liked it; there was a swing and a swagger, just happy who ye were, that was Chess and his baseball cap. He wasnt a busy type of player but he did stuff and ye could see how his head and his upper body, his neck, that control he had. Everything was measured. Ye knew he could burst out. Any time, he could explode right out. He didnt.

Murdo kept it on except a point when he veered off a fraction, brought about by something Chess did that knocked him out, but it was only that fraction and he got through. The guitar was a help, whatever it was. It had a mark like a signature so probably it was hand-made.

The tune ended. Chess nodded to Murdo who grinned. He caught sight of Aunt Maureen, hand to her mouth and gazing at him, sitting with people near the back of the marquee. Uncle John was there but Dad wasnt. Chess chuckled, tucking the fiddle under his arm. He wagged the bow at Murdo. I know what you did!

Yeah I missed that wee bit.

You did too!

I caught it though.

Yeah you caught it, you caught it. Chess wagged the bow at him again, called to the old guy in the fancy waistcoat: Hey now Bill he aint heard of no Bonaparte! Who in heck's Bonaparte, that's what the boy wants to know!

Murdo knew fine well who Bonaparte was.

Dad was by the marquee entrance. Murdo hadnt seen him arrive. So during the song. So he must have heard a little of it. He wouldnt have been too surprised. Maybe he would have been. He didnt come much to gigs. Uncle John would have enjoyed hearing Chess.
That old style making ye think of ancestral relations from bygone days. Mum too, she would have liked it.

Chess shifted on his chair and called to his wife Clara who was one of those at the back: Hey Clara you going to sing one?

Clara looked like she was surprised by the question. Chess said, What d'you think, you want to do one here? Maureen's nephew from Scotland?

Chess winked at Murdo. Clara leaned to say a word to Aunt Maureen then rose from her chair. She stepped along the row to the side and walked down and along to sit closer to Chess, within the main body. She smiled at Murdo. You doing okay son?

Yeah.

Thought you might want to sing, Chess asked.

Okay.

“When I Die”? Chess knocked up the side of his baseball cap, scratched at the side of his ear and said to Murdo, “When I Die” son you know it?

Eh…I'm not sure.

Chess nodded. You'll get it.

Murdo glanced at Clara who smiled.

I dont play on this one, said Chess.

You dont play on it? said Murdo.

Chess said, I sing a little. He glanced sideways, laid the fiddle and bow on the empty chair next to him. You'll get it, he said then looked at the ground, composing himself.

Also he was waiting for Clara. Her eyes were shut. Then she moved her head side to side and seemed to relax. She began the song and immediately was there in it, her voice so distinctive, so clear, so powerful. The word “steel”. “Steel” for strength, staying strong; strong from the beginning and strong at the end: wherever that was. This voice would not stray, it was there on the path. She had “steel” and she gave this to the song. Chess entered from the beginning, replying “when I die” to each sung statement; Clara repeating the “when I die” to begin her next statement:

when I die I'll live again

because I believe

and have found salvation

when I die

when I die I'll live again.

It may have been a hymn. Probably it was. An American one maybe; so ye wouldnt have heard it back home. Chess was looking to Murdo, directing him: come in as soon as ye like. And Murdo found he could, plain and speedy.

Mostly Clara sang with her eyes closed but when she did open them they seemed to fasten on somebody in particular, so the person knew they were being looked at. It reminded Murdo of something, but what? he couldnt think what. Eventually others came in on the line-endings:

when I die I'll live again

hallelujah

because I'm forgiven

my soul will find heaven

when I die

when I die I'll live again

hallelujah

When the song ended Clara smiled to Murdo and gave a wave to Aunt Maureen, a relaxed wave. Aunt Maureen looked pleased and happy. Chess said, That was nice son. We do one more huh?

Murdo looked for Declan before replying. He rose from the seat to see better. Uncle John gave him a cheery thumbs-up. Murdo grinned. Declan was standing beside Dad by the entrance. The woman was also there. Murdo called, One more?

Declan saluted. Dad was just watching. Murdo adjusted the guitar. Chess said, We'll do “The Lost Pilgrim” son.

“The Lone Pilgrim”, said Clara.

“Lone Pilgrim”, yeah… Chess pointed out Murdo to the
company. This is Maureen's nephew from Scotland, Maureen and John there, you all maybe know that?

Murdo, said Clara.

Chess had raised the fiddle, he leaned to speak quietly to Murdo. I'll give it a good-size of an introduction son; you come in when you are ready. Just you take your time. We take it all the way through and back again. All the way through son. That's for Clara huh? So it's right for her. You know what I'm saying, we got all the time here.

Yeah.

Chess sniffed. We need you in there. Two introductions, three, it dont matter. Okay? When you are ready, we'll hear that nice guitar. You okay now?

Yeah.

Okay. Chess said to Clara: Just wait till the boy comes in Clara. We'll take it through and just you know… Chess shrugged. Clara nodded.

Twice on the introduction and it was needed. Murdo watched and listened and eventually he could come in; that bit trickier than earlier. Chess was watching till when Murdo had it he returned to the beginning so they could play it through together, fully.

So it was right for Clara. It was Clara. Of course it was Clara! Murdo could have laughed. Everything was Clara. Chess needed Murdo there for her. It had to be right for her. Of course it did.

Then it was.

Her singing and nobody else.

In the story she sang she came to the place and what kind of place was it, she was singing the place; a place for the beautiful souls. So it was another hymn, like the last one. Murdo knew them now as hymns so if they were like songs, actual songs, the other name for them was hymns. This was people's hymns. What are hymns? hymn? “a hymn”?

He didnt catch the words. He wasnt bothered about them. Beautiful souls. Memories and cheerio, goodbye beautiful soul goodbye, lost souls and finding souls.

Murdo was playing the song and when the song ended he waited, guitar on his lap, while people clapped. Clara was smiling up to Aunt Maureen. Murdo looked for Dad but couldnt see him. Declan Pike was coming towards him. Murdo stood up to lift the strap up and over his head. Declan patted him on the shoulder. Hey! he said.

Murdo handed him the guitar. It's a beauty, he said.

Declan took it from him. Yeah.

What is it?

Huh?

What kind is it? said Murdo.

Declan growled: The good kind.

Is it got a name?

No sir, it aint got no name. Declan said quietly, Hey now what about Clara Hopkins? Aint she the lady? Man, she is something. Aint heard her sing in a long time. How d'you manage that! Clara dont sing nowadays! You got her singing son! Declan patted him on the shoulder again then prepared to leave.

Aw, are you going? asked Murdo.

Yep. I been playing a while. I need a beer. Declan repeated this in a growl: I need a beer. There's a tent back there doing barbeque and they're getting me a steak. I'm talking a steak. You eat steak?

Steak?

You dont know what a steak is?

Murdo grinned.

Declan studied him a moment then wagged his finger at him. Now boy I asked your father that same damn question and he said the same damn thing back to me: Steak? That's what he said, steak. I says, You eat steak? Steak? he says, Steak? You boys from Scotland and you dont know what steak is! Declan stepped back a pace to study Murdo properly. You dont know the history of steak in this country?

The history of steak?

Shame on you! Declan chuckled, turning away. He gripped the guitar-case and saluted the people sitting around. Some acknowledged
this, others didnt notice. The old guy in the fancy waistcoat gave him a clenched fist salute and called: I worked on that railroad son. I worked on it!

Oh you did huh?

Sure I did. And you know what? they didnt murder me.

Declan laughed. He had a cigarette in his mouth already. He paused to speak with Chess and Clara for a few moments, then headed to the exit. Aunt Maureen was closeby, sitting with people. She saw Murdo looking across and waved to him. Murdo waved back. His jacket was lying on a chair. He didnt even remember putting it there.

*

The dance proper began at 8.00 p.m. It wasnt late but when ye were hanging about it was like the distant future. If Murdo had been with guys then okay but he wasnt. Nobody to talk to and nothing to do. That is how it was. Find a chair, sit on the grass, go for a walk. He had gone for a walk a few times, got to know people's faces, and they looked at him. How come he's here again?

The stalls and tents shut long ago. Only actual foodtents were open and more for meals than snacks. No sign of Dad. Maybe he was in with people. Folk had bottles of wine and it looked expensive. He would have preferred a bag of chips or a hamburger maybe, something to eat while ye walked. Maybe ye didnt get chips.

Younger people were over by the field but not the two girls from Clara Hopkins' foodstall and he wondered if they had been at the session. Maybe they had gone home. Probably they had, if their parents had been there; no choice. Time to go home and ye went. That was the unfair thing about it, if ye wanted to meet people, ye werent able to. They come into yer life then go out.

He had reached the exit by the parking area. This was outlaw land; ye could imagine their hide-outs in the mountains; secret
canyons. The road coming here was dirt and stones; probably a trail from the old days. If ye didnt have yer own transport ye couldnt come. How did people manage? That was the thing with America, how did ye get places?

A family coming towards him; a man, a woman, a boy and a baby. The baby bounced along on the man's shoulders. They wore ordinary clothes but the woman had a tartan shawl across her shoulders, pushing the baby buggy with the boy hanging onto the side of the handle. Murdo moved aside to let them pass. He wasnt going any farther, otherwise he would exit past the pay-to-enter table. Although nobody was there taking money so he could just walk back in again. He returned along the path. Declan appeared, with the woman who had been talking to Dad. The guitar-case was slung round his shoulders. The woman was talking and gesturing with her hands, but stopped when she saw Murdo. Declan shook hands with him. How's it going? You doing okay?

Yeah.

Doing good huh? You know Linda here? My driver?

Linda ignored him and gave Murdo a little wave.

Declan said, Linda here dont approve of the Gathering. Declan chuckled. She dont care for the kilt.

I care for it, said Linda.

Not on men you dont.

Certain men.

Certain men! Men with thin legs?

Murdo smiled.

It's not a joke, she said.

Murdo flushed.

Linda said, Sorry, not you.

Declan said, She dont like being here Murdo.

Not with them I dont.

Declan said, How about you now did you enjoy the day? Bit of fun huh? Declan swung the guitar-case to one side and brought out his cigarettes.

Yeah…the music, what you did, it was strong.

Thanks. Declan gazed at him, then nodded and lit a cigarette. Thanks, he said again.

Linda groaned, closing her eyes. These people hated what you did!

Hey now! Declan raised his hand.

What you said and what you sang. Every last word! You know who I'm talking about.

You're talking some and you got some everywhere. I dont take “these people” Linda, “these people”. These some are my people and they are your people.

Oh God. Linda shook her head, stepped farther along the path, before stopping.

I get worse down Texas any night of the week. Any night at all. Declan glanced at Murdo. They throw knives down there.

They hated what you said! called Linda.

They did huh! Got to be doing something right then huh! Declan smiled. He said to Murdo: They still dress like that in Scotland Murdo?

Murdo smiled. Declan raised his eyebrows.

No, said Murdo, no. They dont. Maybe some right enough. Usually it's just guys at a football match or rugby maybe like international games. Or else like weddings: guys wear them to get married.

Special events huh?

Yeah.

Do they carry the fiery cross? called Linda.

I dont know. I think it's just traditional. Christenings as well. Murdo smiled.