James Kelman - Dirt Road

Murdo sat up, then was onto his feet and rummaging around to find the shirt. He had brought two: ordinary and best. Proper was best. First a wash. He jumped upstairs to the bathroom, checked his face in the mirror; ye could see the actual bristles. He peered at his eyes, again at his eyes, almost a smile. Mum; not Eilidh.

He didnt even need a meal. That was the truth; he didnt want to go. If he could just say it! What is wrong with saying it? I’m not going. I’m not going. No Dad sorry, I dont want to. I’ve got like things to do and I dont want to go anywhere. I really really dont. He said it aloud: I’m not going, I am not going. No Dad. No, I am not.

Of course he was. Aunt Maureen and Uncle John. Of course he was. They were wanting him to go, and if he didnt? Oh he was going of course he was going, he was starving. Starving.

They were waiting for him.

*

The restaurant was called the Home-Run Deli and was their favourite one. It was not like a deli the way ye would expect it in Scotland. It was a big like barbeque place full of all different kinds of food for sitting in. Vegetables ye hadnt heard of. All kinds of ribs, chops, pork, ham, lamb, chicken and steak, and one called “joints”, and a lot of fish. They had music every Wednesday from teatime until ten at night; bluegrass and country. Uncle John and Aunt Maureen liked it too but especially the atmosphere is what they enjoyed. It’s down home, said Uncle John.

They wanted Murdo and Dad to try different things and explained what some of it was, and eat whatever caught their fancy. Murdo was starving and so was Dad. Much of it he didnt know — “grits” — but they also had pizza and lasagne. “Grits” is porridge with cheese, said Uncle John.

No sir mister, said Aunt Maureen who only wanted a sandwich; she called it a hot sandwich and ordered mashed potatoes to go with it. It was Kentucky food instead of Alabama food. That was the point she was making. She winked at Murdo. He was not sure what to eat but eventually he went with lasagne and fries — chips. Dad and Uncle John had steak but with mashed potato instead of chips. Uncle John made a joke about Murdo and Italian food to go with Italian accordeons, then ordered beers for himself and Dad, orange juice for Aunt Maureen and Murdo.

Aunt Maureen’s sandwich was the best thing. Murdo would have got that if he had known. It was not really a sandwich at all but with turkey and bacon and toasted cheese; tasty-looking.

It was good with Aunt Maureen and Uncle John. They were cheery and kept things going. The usual stuff; family and Scotland and bits about Kentucky and places. Uncle John did the talking on America. Aunt Maureen listened as if he was speaking about things she didnt know. He came out with daft sayings — “A slap on the face with a wet kipper”. People laughed at that but what did it mean? Nobody knew. Old sayings from the old days. A song about Davy Crockett, born on a mountain top in Tennessee, played the fiddle at the Alamo. Scottish background. Everything was Scottish background. Aunt Maureen made faces behind his back. Let somebody else talk, she said and she nodded at Murdo. Uncle John grinned at him. Murdo said: How far is California?

What? Uncle John looked at him.

Aunt Maureen smiled.

Murdo said, Well I was just thinking like the idea of Cousin Calum like I mean driving across, if we went to see him.

Huh! said Aunt Maureen.

Uncle John sighed. Murdo son, how many miles in a day can ye drive?

I dont know.

Five hundred? Uncle John glanced at Dad. Eh Tommy? Okay. Divide it into three thousand and that is yer days.

Wow, said Dad.

Six. A minute a mile, said Uncle John. You want to go faster go faster.

Aint safe, said Aunt Maureen.

No I’m not saying to go faster, only as an estimate, just working it out a mile a minute as a guide to distance.

Six days! said Dad.

Three thousand miles. Uncle John shrugged. Then if you’re going north Tommy… Calum’s in Oakland.

Murdo would have asked about Louisiana too but not with Dad there. But knowing about California meant ye could compare it. Six days to California, how many to Louisiana? The Road Atlas book was brilliant for calculating. They had a page where the distances between places was laid out in miles and kilometres. Straight south to Mobile and turn right. Left to Orange Beach on the southernmost tip which sounded brilliant the way Aunt Maureen spoke about it; a great beach where ye could swim and just enjoy it all; the Gulf of Mexico.

For Louisiana ye continued right past New Orleans and all the way until just before Texas, that was Lafayette. The gig was nine o’clock Saturday night so that was early Saturday morning he had to leave, very very early, the earliest. Except that was for ordinary driving in a car; not like buses with all changes and connections and sitting about waiting then like what happened from Memphis if ye missed a connection so an overnight stay, so then ye would miss the gig. So it had to be Friday. It could only be Friday. Except that was Uncle John and the trip to the Tennessee Valley. So what happened there?

Nothing. He would just tell Dad. Sorry Dad.

Although Aunt Maureen was saying about the weather, it was turning bad the next few days. Maybe they would postpone the trip! If it was like a downpour why would ye want to go? Nobody would. It would just be like nightmarish boring crap, stuck in a tent looking out. The whole weekend. So they wouldnt go and it would be postponed, so then they could go to the gig. Why not? They could. They would love it! If they went they would. They wouldnt but.

They wouldnt go.

Why not?

Because it didnt happen. People didn’t do things like that. Imagine they did but. And Dad was like Oh Uncle John the weather is too bad for the Tennessee Valley, maybe we can go to Queen Monzeeay’s gig instead!

Ha ha right enough.

But why not! if it was his own son playing? Wouldnt that be something? That would be special. Here we are in America and Murdo’s playing a gig. Aunt Maureen would love it! So would Uncle John. He just needed an accordeon. So he had to get one, and he would get one, and knew where to get it.

Aunt Maureen and Uncle John were enjoying the meal. Just being there was a good thing and occasionally they stared around the place as if they hoped to see somebody they knew. It would have been nice if they had; here’s our relations from Scotland, showing them off.

$90 wasnt enough. Dad would give him more if he asked. Maybe he would. Although what did it matter, if he wasnt going. Instead it was the Tennessee Valley. It was all arranged. Uncle John was getting the day off especially. So dont waste yer breath son totally impossible and if something is impossible it is just not possible so why even talk about it dont bloody talk about it it is just a waste of breath. Fine for you wasting your breath, but not for other people, not if ye’re a guest, and that is what you are son a guest! So shut up.

They were going up country, mountains and rivers and boats, fishing and just everything — friends coming with them, all for a good time and like overnight and whatever, tents or else a what-do-ye-call-it, bungalow thing made out of wood, sort of cottage, logs

just everything, everything.

So he had to go. Although he was not going to. He couldnt. The gig was on and he was playing it. He said he would and had to. He gave his word to Sarah so like breaking yer word, how could ye if it was like manners, good manners, that was ha ha ha, breaking yer word. It was fine when it suited Dad, not when it didnt.

Queen Monzee-ay was expecting him and had her set worked out for the two accordeons. So that was that.

Unless the weather. Torrential rain. Maybe it would be postponed. But if it was they would just go someplace else. It was their last weekend together and Uncle John had wangled the day off. So Murdo couldnt not go. That would have been the worst of all for Dad. Everybody doing things for ye, and then ye say no, just like a slap in the face. A family matter, the same as the Gathering and not playing the accordeon. Family comes first. Being a guest. Not knowing what guests do. What is a guest! Are family guests? Family is do as yer told. Same with guests. Murdo had to go with them. Otherwise