Dad
I’m just saying ye’ve got to be careful.
So I cant go for a walk?
For God sake Murdo dont make it a big deal.
Well it is a big deal.
No it’s not.
It is.
It isnt.
Dad it is.
Jesus Christ!
Well ye always get upset!
No I dont.
Ye do. Then it ends up a row.
Dad was silent for a moment. I just worry. What’s there and who’s there.
Dad it’s only a walk.
Things happen on walks.
What things?
Ye’re not that thick. As ye keep reminding me, ye’re sixteen years old.
Exactly! I could’ve got married months ago Dad I could have been a father by now.
Oh aye who’s the lucky girl!
Dad I’m only saying. It was Mum made the joke. You were there when she said it, I would make ye both grandparents. It was her said it Dad it was Mum, it wasnay me.
Oh jees Murdo.
Murdo stared at the carpet. Neither spoke until eventually Murdo said, She would have liked it here.
Yeah only for a holiday.
But she would have liked it.
Yeah.
I know she wouldnt have wanted the racism. She would have hated that.
Yeah, well… Dad nodded.
Definitely.
Dad shrugged. Racism’s everywhere son.
Yeah but is this not the worst? lynching people and civil rights and stuff; Martin Luther King. Ye even hear about it at school.
Well that’s the old times.
Yeah Dad but the cops battering people and killing them? Murdo gazed at Dad. I was wondering that, like how come Aunt Maureen and Uncle John are living here?
Dad smiled.
I mean like here, in Alabama?
That’s simple son it’s work. Aunt Maureen’s from Kentucky and there wasnt any work. So they moved here. People need to work. That’s how they leave one place to go to another. Uncle John left Glasgow and came here then he met Aunt Maureen.
Yeah but Alabama?
It’s not just Alabama that’s racist son ye’ve got all these other places.
New York!
Yeah New York. Dad sighed. He shifted on the armchair to look directly at Murdo. Murdo held his look. What is it ye’re trying to say son? D’ye think it’s just here ye get racism?
Dad
Is that what ye think?
No.
It’s racist everywhere son. Just like Scotland too. Dont act like ye dont know.
Dad I’m not acting like anything.
This isnay some class at school son this is the real world; this is what ye get in the real world. People are different all over but that’s what ye learn when ye grow up. You’re talking all the time about how mature ye are and then ye come out with stupid stuff like that. So is it Aunt Maureen and Uncle John then because they live here? Is it them that’s racist?
What?
Is that what ye’re wanting me to say?
Never. Never. I’m not saying that at all.
The trouble is son you dont know what ye’re saying. Dad shook his head and turned from Murdo.
Murdo sat still. Dad had his book opened and was studying the page. Murdo waited. Dad continued to study the page. Murdo got up from the settee, lifting his book. He left the room without looking back, clicked shut the door behind himself. He headed along and into the bathroom. He washed his face and hands without looking in the mirror then dried and opened the door gently. Nobody there. He stepped out and downstairs.
He had left his book in the bathroom. It didnt matter. He sat down on the mattress. Then the fast clumping down the stairs. Murdo sat there. The door opened and Dad.
He stood by the side of the bed. He said: Murdo, if you have got something to say, say it.
Murdo looked away. Dad stepped around the end of the bed to face him. Stand up, he said.
Murdo didnt.
Stand up!
Murdo stood up and nearly smiled. He looked at the floor. He folded his arms and unfolded them. Dad said, Tell me what it is?
What what is? I dont know what ye mean.
Dad stared at him
Honest Dad I dont know what ye mean. Murdo put his hands in his pockets then took them back out.
Dad said, I only asked ye to say where ye were going. That’s all. And it’s because I worry, I worry.
Yeah I know Dad but really ye shouldnt because I cant go anywhere anyway so what does it matter it doesnt matter. Really, it doesnt matter.
What are ye talking about?
Murdo folded his arms.
What are ye talking about?
I’ve got no money. Murdo rubbed round the sides of his mouth. What I’m saying: I dont have any money.
What d’ye mean?
Murdo shrugged.
I give you money.
Yeah but not for myself. Murdo shrugged again. Like only if I need it for something. I dont have any money of my own. Know what I mean Dad I dont have any money.
I give ye money.
Murdo unfolded his arms and turned his head to look away. Dad, what I’m saying, ye never give me any pocket money; like ye never ever give me any pocket money. What about pocket money? Ye never give me any pocket money! Murdo shook his head:
Pocket money Dad ye just never ever… Pocket money, it is fucking pocket money Dad… Murdo was clenching his fists. Ye never…ye just…ye never ever give me any damn bloody pocket money and I dont know what to do I dont know what to do I’m just I’m stuck. I cannay go out even a walk Dad; I cannay go out; I dont have even one dollar, one dollar; I cant even buy a packet of chewing gum Dad nothing, I cant buy any damn thing and I cant do any damn thing… Dad… Dad I cant do anything.
Murdo was shaking now and tried to stop it, pushing down his hands by his sides, clenching and unclenching his fists; taking a deep breath.
Dad turned away.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry Dad. Dad it doesnt matter.
It was Mum dealt with pocket money.
Yeah.
I mean…
Yeah Dad sorry.
Ye need to remind me, if ye just could remind me.
Okay Dad.
I dont want us to fight. Whatever happens son I dont want us to fight. I mean me and you. Dad reached out his hand and clasped Murdo’s shoulder. Murdo had his head lowered.
Dad went away soon after. Murdo laid down on the mattress, eventually switching on the music, just quietly, a beautiful number that was so so easy, going along someplace, the damp leaves, branch roots, smelling the woods, the loch water.
*
That evening Uncle John drove with Dad to the local bar which was about three miles away. They werent so strict as back home on drink-driving where Dad wouldnt have taken even one bottle of beer. Here Uncle John drank three or four which according to him was “nothing”.
Murdo was glad when they went. It was good for Dad getting out and good for Uncle John too because whenever did he get the chance? Never. Dad being here was special for him. Once they had gone he sat with Aunt Maureen in the lounge watching television. She picked out a magazine from a magazine rack at the side of the television. Murdo knelt down to check through it, and found a book called the USA Road Atlas. It was full of maps. An actual book full of maps. Every page was a map, and followed on from the page before, or ran into the page coming after, just like online if ye were scrawling or zooming in someplace. It was just a brilliant old book. Murdo flourished it aloft. Aunt Maureen glanced at it. Huh? she said. Oh you want to go someplace Murdo?
Murdo grinned, sat back on the settee with it and began from page one. It gave a clear idea not only of the roads but the land itself; mountain ranges, rivers and lochs. The book had generalised maps and the downtown centres of the major cities. It was brilliant. Just scanning map pages and seeing the names of actual towns. Their very names! Murdo had to read them out to Aunt Maureen. Honest, he said, it is just amazing. Look! Gretna! Imagine Gretna! Elgin! Jeesoh, Elgin. McKenney! Cadder! Aberdeen! Aberdeen, actual Aberdeen. It’s all Scottish names Aunt Maureen. Glasgow!