James Kelman - Dirt Road

Dad would be like, Ha ha. An accordeon! Ha ha. What happened to listening and learning! Use yer ears and the brains in yer body.

Right Dad okay and not just them in my head. Somebody once told Murdo he had fast fingers. You’ve got fast fingers son. Not fast fingers, brainy fingers. His brains were everywhere. Nerves were brain-ends and fingers were full of them. Fingers needed to be fast so they were fast. They werent fast to begin with. They had to be fast for the song. The song made them fast. They were part of it and couldnt not be. Even if they tried they couldnt be slow. If they were it would be a different tune! That was fingers!

Dad didnt get it because he didnt “hear” music. They say that about some people, how they dont hear notes connected to one another, just a pile of things all scattered about haphazard.

The $200 was a loan and he would pay it back. He needed that accordeon and had to buy it. If he could have paid it himself he would have. He couldnt because he couldnt.

Oh jees, the feeling in his stomach.

What was that, nothing, staring out the window, what at, nothing. The two letters. They wouldnt have found them yet. Unless they came home early. Why? To make sure he was okay. So he didnt get up to mischief. A naughty boy. They were supposed to be going away for one night or else two. But now it was one night because of him. Dad would never stay away longer, he would just be worrying. They all would. Oh maybe he’ll burn the house down! Then Dad would read the letter.

Jees.

Aunt Maureen would stick up for Murdo. Oh now he’s a boy he just wants adventures.

That was true. What was wrong with adventures? Where would ye rather be: sitting on a porch reading a book or else doing a gig with Queen Monzee-ay? Oh Louisiana, dont you cry for me, there’s a banjo on my knee; what was that song?

Dad would be like, Oh he doesnt even know where Lafayette is! He thinks it is next to Chattanooga!

But what did Dad know. Murdo had the Road Atlas book anyway. Aunt Maureen gave him it. She gave him it. He didnt steal it!

Oh but he doesnt listen he doesnt listen! That’s why he’s behind at school. He doesnt listen and he skips away and he disappears for whole days at a time. Where does he go! Glasgow? Who knows.

No, he stays in his room all day playing music!

Coming up for seventeen and repeating a year. The oldest pupil in the school. How would they like that? Nobody would like that. Uncle John said it too when Murdo told him, I dont fancy that.

It was true. Who would fancy it? Nobody. Just stupid rubbish.

Who cares anyway. Who can be bothered. Imagine being bothered. It was all just stupid.

At least he had written the letters. That was good and Aunt Maureen would think it was good. Uncle John too. It was just Dad.

It didnt matter now because it was too late. It was finished.

That was something, all finished, yer family, it is only you. That is that and no more.

In Baton Rouge it was an hour and a half wait and he was hungry. He had one last apple. He ate it on a bench outside the bus station. Just great getting fresh air. He held the rucksack over one shoulder; on his lap the Road Map Atlas. The accordeon was by his feet and he wished he could bring it out the case. He needed to play. Why couldnt he? It was peaceful; people hanging about waiting for a bus, smoking, quiet talking. Maybe he could. People would want a tune. Maybe they wouldnt. The bus people wouldnt let him. They would if it was out on the street. How could they stop him? Maybe it was against the law. He laid his hand on the case.

A woman was here, sitting about three feet away on the other side of the bench. Not old at all. Maybe in her mid twenties. She had her phone in her hand but was not looking at it, she was just gazing up the way. The night sky.

Other people were like travellers from foreign places, quite small people too, how the women wore leggings a particular way; maybe from Pakistan or India although could it have been South America, maybe. Some folk didnt seem to be traveling, just having a rest. Maybe they couldnt afford a ticket. Ye had to watch what ye spent every minute of the day. If Murdo hadnt made the sandwiches in Aunt Maureen’s house that would have been fifteen dollars at least. Would his money last? He didnt know, and wouldnt know until after the gig. That was Sunday morning, whatever was happening then. If Sarah’s family could give him a lift up to Jackson or someplace where he could make a good bus connection. It would save money if they did. But if they couldnt?

Ye had to watch for emergencies. Ye couldnt go spending money in cafés. Even if ye were hungry. It would just depend. People said “emergencies” but what were “emergencies”? If ye were starving. But if ye were starving and had money and didnt eat. So then it wasnt like an emergency, not a real one. Otherwise ye would just spend the money. But then ye saved money by walking instead of going on a bus and ye bought food with the money. Ye would be entitled to because you saved it yourself by walking. It would be your money for just like whatever, whatever ye wanted to spend it on.

What about the woman on the bench? Maybe it was the same for her. Did she have luggage? Murdo couldnt see a proper suitcase, only a big sort of handbag thing. She was tired-looking, bored maybe, sitting here for hours. If she had been. Probably she had. People just waited around. So probably a tune would be good, if he played one. People would enjoy it. She would too. She glanced at him. Jeesoh. She didnt catch his eye but she did glimpse him, definitely. Really, she did.

She was looking at him now, almost like not staring but nearly. She had seen him looking at her. Murdo shifted position. His face was pure red now he knew it was. Although she wouldnt maybe know, not in the shadows. Where you headed? she said.

He looked at her and looked away, then back to her.

Where you headed? she asked again.

Aw eh Lafayette.

She squinted at him.

Murdo spoke slowly, I’m eh…I’m headed to Lafayette, the town Lafayette. He raised the Road Atlas book and pointed at the open page. Louisiana, he said.

The woman leaned a little closer to see where he was pointing. The perfume smell from her and the T-shirt she was wearing, the tops of her boobs and even like nipples standing out. Jeesoh but they were, just like

They were. He moved slightly away from her in case she had seen him, and would think he was trying to look and he wasnt, it was just like how ye couldnt not, ye couldnt, ye just had to see, if ye looked at her, because if ye did ye saw them. Murdo scratched the side of his head. Straight run from here, she said.

Thanks.

Uh huh. She breathed sharply in through her mouth; maybe she wasnt feeling good or was worried about something. Was she waiting for him to speak? Maybe she was. People got nervous in bus stations. They could panic when a bus was due to leave, jumping up trying to see the schedule and stuff. Also when the police were there. They had been in an hour ago checking who was here, looked at Murdo too. That was weird. How come they looked at him? He didnt smile. Uncle John told him that about the cops, never look at them if they are looking at you and never ever say anything funny — like trying to make a joke or something. Never ever do that.

Not only were buses expensive the actual prices changed. He heard people talking, they went online and saw daily deals and special offers. One day it was $40 the next it was $70, and that was the same journey. How come? Even walking from one town to the next would save money. Then if ye hitched a lift for one clear stretch of the journey, that would save a good few dollars and that would be great, that would buy ye a meal. Then if yer luck was in and the driver was going farther on, and didnt mind taking ye.