Murdo said, That’s the thing in America, people die from the actual weather.
Sure they do.
The actual weather.
Not in Scotland huh?
No. Except maybe like climbing accidents on mountains, snow avalanches, or else like drowning maybe if ye were out on a boat but not actual weather like I mean where people die. No. Not like floods and twisters and whatever.
You didnt know that huh?
No, said Murdo, I dont think people do know that back home.
Dad said, Maybe some do.
Aunt Maureen lifted the plate of biscuits. You didnt eat any, she said.
I did take one, said Dad.
I was going to, said Murdo.
You got your orange juice son huh?
Yeah. It’s like real oranges, better than we get back home.
Aunt Maureen suddenly wagged her finger at Murdo. Oh now, she said, I know what it was. I got the question for you Murdo, church on Sunday. You go to church back home?
Dad was looking.
You want to come one time with us? Uncle John and me? We’re going Sunday morning. You think you might come? Would be nice if you did.
Murdo smiled and nodded.
Well you think about it, she said.
Okay Aunt Maureen.
*
It was all mixed up. Aunt Maureen was great. She was just great. It was Murdo who wasnt. He was a horror, the things he thought about, horrible thoughts, horrible horrible, just the most horrible.
His voice too, he didnt want to hear it again, ever. If Aunt Maureen was going to church on Sunday then maybe, maybe he should even just think about it, just think about it. He didnt care about any of it except just her, Aunt Maureen, it was her, it was just to go with her. Murdo didnt care about meeting other people, nice ones or not. If Aunt Maureen was meaning guys his own age or else girls, ones who went to church.
It was daft. Murdo would meet people and he wanted to meet people, and if he went places he would. He would meet people. So if that was church like a place to go then okay. So maybe that would be something. If Dad didnt go. Maybe Murdo would, if Dad didnt.
But why? if he didnt believe. Dad believed, Murdo didnt. Murdo had his life too, his own space. The basement. Dad had his room. This was Murdo’s. So what was wrong with being in it? Jeesoh, if it was his? How come it was like a big deal to spend time in it? If Murdo hadnt had the basement this whole holiday would have been a punishment. Anyway, it was not a holiday. Who would have called it a holiday, nobody. Coming here was recovering from a bereavement. Ye were bereaved and had to cope. Mum dying was a bereavement. Murdo had to cope and Dad had to cope. It was not a punishment. People look at ye and think it to themselves: Oh the poor boy lost his mother, what did he do to deserve that?
Nothing. Nothing to deserve it and nothing not to deserve it. She just died. That was Mum, tumours that live on and kill females. Males have theirs. Things are how they are. Never mind God and Jesus. Aunt Maureen was the best but that was her. She had hers and Murdo had his.
Her and Dad would be talking. The boy’s just lost his mother. Oh well I’ve lost my wife. Yes but your mother? Not as bad as your wife. Losing your wife is worse than losing your mother. No it isnt. Yes it is. He’s having to cope. So is everybody. Murdo is a young man. A young man is not a boy: a young man is a man. So if he is a young man then he can go where he wants and just act like whatever.
So what if nice people go to church? Who wants nice people! Ones who praise the Lord and are so welcoming to everybody? What is nice people? Do bad things not happen to them? If bad things happen are they so nice?
The idea of innocent people. They hardly live then they are dead. Ye wonder about that. If God makes people dead is that Him punishing people? If it is yer nearest and dearest is that God punishing you? Who else could it be? With Mum it was like ye must have done something very very bad. Ye think it to yourself because how else? If ye sinned it must have been badly, very very badly. Yer sister then yer mother. The very worst of all. So if things happen for a reason what is the reason?
People talked about sinners, “we are all sinners”, but it wasnt true. Maybe Dad believed it. A believer believed. Was Eilidh a sinner? Murdo was sick of that stuff. We endure hard knocks and it is for a reason. God knows the reason. We dont know but God does. Maybe Jesus does. The blood of the lamb being redeemed. The lamb was Jesus. Through the blood of Jesus who is our blessed saviour, our living redeemer, by the shedding of his blood our sins are washed away. Blood-stained roads and blind men walking. Josie. Josie was Josie. Aunt Maureen’s friend. They were believers. That old guy in the bus station, a walking skeleton. Cracked.
Imagine a baby. A sinner! So crazy, so so crazy. That guy Conor must have thought so and it was his baby. So that would be his sins. The sins of the father is like punishment for the children; two wee girls and a baby. A baby only had to be born. As soon as it was born it was like doomed. That was how it worked. Maybe Dad thought the same. Mum was dead because Dad was a sinner. That was Hell if it was his fault; so Hell was now and not after ye were dead. On the road not seeing the signs. A blind man walking. That was Murdo, not seeing the signs. He thought she was getting better. That was the worst stupidity. She was not getting better and was not going to get better. Murdo didnt know that. Nobody told him. Naive childishness. He needed his father to tell him. How stupid. He knew she was badly ill but actual dying. The very end and she couldnt get out of bed. Imagine. Ye imagine it, how do ye imagine it, just a smile, not the breath to say Murdo, holding onto his fingers.
*
Late Friday evening after dinner they were sitting on talking. Uncle John folded his arms and stared into Murdo’s eyes for about five seconds. Murdo smiled then stopped. It was a staring contest. They kept it going for several more seconds. Murdo stopped first although he didnt have to. Uncle John relaxed. You ever think of staying here? he said.
Oh now, said Aunt Maureen.
Murdo glanced at Dad.
Uncle John raised his hand at once. Never mind him son I’m asking you. Do you think you would ever ever consider it?
Both Dad and Aunt Maureen awaited his answer.
No, he said. I only mean I wouldnt consider it, because I dont know. It’s not a thing I mean it wouldnt be me making the decision.
Aye but son if it was you?
Dad had risen from the table; he took his empty teacup through to rinse at the kitchen sink.
Murdo said, Yeah but Uncle John it wouldnt be me making the decision.
What is this boy a politician! called Uncle John. Then he reached and trapped Murdo’s wrist on the table. Ye’re no getting away with it. Out with it! I’ve heard yer Dad, now it’s you. If it was your decision what would it be? Would ye stay or go? Eh, stay here or go home?
Murdo smiled, then chuckled.
Uncle John laughed and pointed at him, turned to Aunt Maureen. Murdo looked from Dad to Aunt Maureen and back to Uncle John. It was true. It was just true and he was saying it out loud.
Uncle John called to Dad: Did ye hear that?
I did, said Dad, returning to the table.
Aunt Maureen was smiling, and Uncle John said to her: Mind you old Jimmy Shand was good! Uncle John winked at Murdo. So how much is an accordeon? he said. They expensive?
Aye, said Dad, the kind Murdo likes.
Well if they’re good quality. Murdo shrugged.
Italian, said Dad.
What is that a joke?
Murdo said, They make the best accordeons.
You’re kidding me on son! The old Eyeties. Did you know that? he asked Aunt Maureen.
Well mister their music is beautiful. You forgetting that?
No I’m not forgetting that. I’m just saying, it’s not something ye would think. Music aye, okay. Not musical instruments. You liked the big guy mother.