Sally Rose, said Uncle John. She’s an old friend of yer Auntie. That’s the last we’ll see of her. Look for Josie too, because she’ll be roundabout. Then who else? Quite a few, I dont know, church people. Uncle John chuckled and winked at Murdo. She’s in her element son. Just watch it with the religious aspect. Nay wisecracks!
…
Dad glanced across.
I’m only saying to watch it son. Uncle John winked. Whatever ye said to the women, just be careful.
Dad smiled. What did ye say? Eh? Murdo…?
I dont know Dad, I dont know.
They had stopped walking and moved to the side of the track to let people pass along. Was it about religion?
I dont know.
Och it’s nothing, said Uncle John, me and my big mouth.
Murdo looked at him. He couldnt remember a single thing at all about whatever he was supposed to have said except if it was personal stuff about the family, talking to Aunt Maureen maybe. But if he had said something it wouldnt have been a joke, not like a joke. Never. If Uncle John thought that… Wisecracks? What did it even mean? Jokey comments? He would never have made jokey comments. Never. Horrible even to think. Aunt Maureen and her friends. Never ever.
After a moment Uncle John said: Maybe I’ve got the wrong end of the stick. It was when ye were talking with the women son, the pot-luck night; did ye no say something? Emma-Louise and them were talking about it later. Am I wrong son? asked Uncle John.
…
What was it ye said? asked Dad.
Kids running along the track toward them, past them, making for the main area. People everywhere, everywhere. Dad tapped him on the arm. They stepped sideways to allow the kids past, running past.
Murdo kept his head lowered. Dad was waiting. Murdo didnt know. He didnt care either. Dad whatever. Dad whatever all the time. Murdo’s stomach was that weird way again. Twisted. That was how it felt. Uncle John said something. Murdo didnt hear. Dad said something back. Murdo didnt hear that either. Dad saying: We’ll walk.
Uncle John held up his right hand. Murdo son, I’ve got the wrong end of the stick.
Murdo shook his head. I dont know Uncle John I might have said something like eh I dont know, I might have said something when I was in talking with Aunt Maureen and them or else if they picked me up wrong. But I would never have said any jokey thing like wisecracks. Not to Aunt Maureen. Definitely. Never.
Uncle John said to Dad: It’s me Tommy. I’ve got the wrong end of the stick. I’m just a dumpling. Murdo son I’m just a dumpling.
It’s okay.
Do people still call ye that in Glasgow! They said it when I was a boy. Ya bloody dumpling! That was what they called ye! Worse!
Murdo smiled.
Dad was just watching. But it was Murdo’s fault for over-reacting. Uncle John was feeling bad and it was for nothing. Quite soon after he saw men he knew, men in kilts. Aw look, he said, old Charlie, I’m goni say hullo, and off he went.
The people going along the track; fat and thin, young and old; the usual. Dad and Murdo continued walking. The temperature into the high seventies. Dad had his hands in his pockets and was just looking about, relaxed. Murdo said, Dad.
Yeah?
What Uncle John said there about wisecracks. I dont know what he was meaning because I didnt say anything like that. Nothing like that. I would never ever have done it. Jeesoh Dad Aunt Maureen, she’s great. I would never ever say anything to upset her and like her friends, never.
Yeah I know. What it is Murdo, just keep yer own thoughts. Ye might have an opinion about religion and ye’re entitled to it. But be wary. There’s things here ye dont want to talk about; politics and that, the racist stuff. People dont think the same. It’s like back home Rangers and Celtic, Protestants and Catholics, ye’re aye the opposite. Whoever it is ye’re the opposite. If it’s all Catholics you’re the only Protestant, all blacks you’re the only white. The ones ye happen to be with they’re all one thing but you’re the other. So ye watch what ye say. The best thing is say nothing.
Murdo nodded.
Ye okay?
Yeah.
Ye went awful white there. Green. I thought ye were going to faint son and I havenay seen ye do that for a while. Dad smiled. I used to do it myself.
Yeah.
Dad chuckled and went into his pocket, took out a twenty-dollar bill and pressed it into Murdo’s hand. I meant to give ye it earlier.
Thanks Dad.
See how it goes. If ye need more come and ask. Dad pointed along to the various stalls and tents down the side of the field. Have a wander, he said.
Will we meet someplace? Murdo asked.
Och we’re here all day, we’ll bump into one another.
Yeah.
There’s the music on too then the dance tonight. So ye’ll no be disappearing. Dad clapped him on the shoulder then went one way. Murdo went the other, away from the main stalls and towards the far side of the area, to the edge of the field on the other side of the tents, way away from everything.
It was very warm now and he felt more like lying in the sun than trying stuff at the stalls. The scenery too; rock formations and mountains, it was so so good seeing the mountains. Ye got rivers here but not the same lochs like back home. Probably it was true what they said about Scotland: if it wasnt for the rotten weather it would be the best place in the world. Although Alabama too, once ye got to know it. Aunt Maureen said it was a beautiful state. Except where was the sea? Ye were hemmed in without it. They didnt have any except that wee bit of coast at the Gulf of Mexico.
He found a shady place. A sort of red dirt but the grass was okay. He lay down, using his jacket as a pillow. Jet streams far far in the sky. Three, four, maybe five trails. Where were they going? They already were here. Back home ye saw a plane high in the sky and it was headed for Canada. Low in the sky was England. He browsed through the leaflets he had lifted at the entrance. Global Hunger and people in prison all over the world. Good people, Christian people, suffering hard knocks, miseries and tragedy. Open your Eyes, and Open your Mind. Most was religious stuff but quite interesting. One gave information on the history of the “Henry Craig Gathering”. Henry Craig had donated the use of this place annually. He was long dead but people kept the tradition and traveled from all over.
Although based on the Highland Gathering it was not trying to be a real one. It took from the ceilidh and was an ancient ideal going back into the mists of time. Horsemen rode round the land with the fiery cross held aloft, calling the clansfolk to order. They had the clan obligation to entertain their rulers, kings and chiefs. They sang songs, told stories, danced and took part in athletic games. It was like a tax. People had no money in those days so the kings and chiefs took a percentage of their fish and farm produce, and their whiskey too which was known as uisge beatha, “water of life”. Their descendants still brewed it to this day only nowadays they called it “moonshine”.
The thud of a football.
Down the field boys were playing football and two girls with them. A kickabout would have been great, even in the sun. He shoved the leaflets back in his pocket, got up and wandered among the stalls and tents. Seeing the price of stuff. Dad had given him the $20 but did that include food? He was starving. One place sold beer but one bottle alone was $7. Other stalls sold food. People sat outside drinking, eating and chatting. At a place farther along Uncle John was sitting with two older men. He was smoking a cigarette! Uncle John! Murdo hadnt seen him smoke before.
He hung back, unseen, then went sideways between stalls.
Here they sold stuff with Celtic themes. Kilts, Scottish whisky and buckled shoes. One stall had stained glass and decorative jewelry. Swords and shields; dirks. Scottish Irish. The culture of the Celts. The folk doing the selling were dressed in the old ways: kilts and fancy shirts, leather waistcoats. Some had long hair and blue clay designs on their faces. Mixed males and females. All ages. Plenty wore Highland outfits. Girls wore short kilts. Some of the older ones were very very good-looking. Really pretty and their kilts were like the shortest, the very very shortest, and just great legs. Socks and tunic outfits. White lace on their blouses; ruffles and sashes.