my sister . . .
Sarah was staring at him.
God, he said and breathed in. What I mean like she died as well sorry, I dont mean to be saying this like I mean sorry, it’s a long time ago like I was only nine, jees I mean a long long time ago.
Oh God Murdo.
Yeah, she was only twelve. Murdo smiled, not looking at Sarah; nor at Joel, but away way over their heads, the heads of people; almost like he was floating, his voice coming from someplace else.
Sarah’s hand was on his wrist. Oh Murdo.
He opened his mouth to take in air. Joel was looking at him as well. Murdo shrugged. Just to tell ye, he said, it was a tumour, like hereditary. Through the female line. Murdo bit on the side of his lower lip. Males dont get it, he said. So the likes of me, I’m okay and Dad I mean. It doesnt affect us. It’s weird with Eilidh but—my sister—even just now, I open the door and it’s like I expect to see her.
Murdo grinned. She’s more of a pal. I think of her like that; a pal, a pal that died. Jeesoh, sorry. Murdo scratched his head. The turquoise accordeon was where he had left it.
He made a movement towards it, he wanted to play one for Sarah. Joel too but Sarah especially. Joel wouldnt mind; brothers and sisters. Brothers and sisters were fun. This tune too, it was a fun thing he had been learning; an old fisherman’s song, just stupid stuff about being fed up with the cod-fishing and then getting married and being fed up with that too if yer wife was ordering ye about all the time, so ye were like glad to go back to the fishing again. And ye had to know what a cod was like: cods are huge! And wives, wives are wives but they are girlfriends too.
He reached for the box, pulled it on and started right in on it, playing right into Sarah so she had to step back, and she was so taken by surprise she kind of shouted and it made people look. Joel laughed. Murdo sang the lyric when he played it, jigging about on the chorus. It was how he practised too. He wasnt great on vocals and didnt do it much but on this one he did.
Across the garden he saw Queen Monzee-ay and Aunt Edna smiling and clapping hands. Four or five kids returned and joined in on the jig. Murdo moved them here and there threading a way between them like the Pied Piper. It was good fun. People liked it and him being stupid too when he was singing. It didnt have to be the right words; if he didnt know the real ones make them up, just make them up. Who cares! Long ago he learned that. Half the time he wasnt singing words at all
doo doo doo, dih doo doo doo,
dih dih doo doo doo doo,
la la la, lih la la la.
As long as he kept it going and didnt stop. Never ever. If he messed up someplace keep it going keep it going, and he kept it going, some way or another. The fast-foot dance maybe. He called it that. He made it up himself. Maybe not, maybe he copied it from somebody. He liked seeing other players and how they did stuff.
He did slow walks too. Some airs he played very still, not moving hardly at all, so people focused. They had no choice, ye forced them into it and they had to do it. For some tunes they had to listen; if they didnt they would never get it, and ye wanted them to get it, and people had to be ready for that, ready to listen. Ye saw good performers and that was what they did. They led the way for the audience, they brought them along. He liked seeing the old-time players because of that and ye saw all different ones on YouTube. Sometimes ye thought “crafty,” oh that’s crafty, that player’s crafty and ye wanted to give him a wink—maybe the fiddler because ye knew what he was up to!
Queen Monzee-ay hadnt picked up the cream-coloured ac-
cordeon. He expected she might but she didnt. Sarah had gone
to stand with her and they were talking. Murdo kept it going till eventually it wasnt right, it was not right, like a change in mood; something. The kids stopped dancing and were looking.
Dad.
Dad was there. He appeared from the same end of the store building as Murdo earlier on. Murdo broke off playing. It’s my father, he said, and he took off the accordeon. He passed it to Joel. Dad arrived but kept his distance. Murdo went to meet him, aware of people watching. Dad said quietly, Do you never think? Not even sometimes?
Murdo nodded.
Ye disappeared.
I’m sorry.
Just yer usual.
. . .
Let’s go. Right now.
Yeah.
Right now Murdo.
Yeah Dad I just need to say cheerio. Murdo turned away from him, aware of everybody watching but that was that and he didnt care. He crossed to where Queen Monzee-ay and Aunt Edna were sitting. Queen Monzee-ay smiled and reached to shake hands with him. Instead of shaking hands she held his wrist, and she seemed to press in her fingers, like her fingertips digging into his actual flesh, and she said, Well now Murrdo you are learning, you are learning good.
Murdo grinned and she pressed in even deeper, and he blinked.
Now you are okay, she said. You can come play with me anytime. You think you might ever want to do that?
Ha ha, said Murdo.
Queen Monzee-ay chuckled, and there was that fun in her voice on the “r” stress. More than fun. Murrdo. She was saying the name for him and marking him with it. It was him, he was Murdo. This is what she meant. Dad didnt grasp it because he didnt know. None of it, nothing. He just didnt know. Murdo saw Sarah there and Aunt Edna, Joel too; they all knew what Queen Monzee-ay was meaning. It was only Dad didnt. He thought he did but he didnt. That was the weird thing about Dad how he didnt know things, even after this time you would think he would know.
Mum would have known.
Strange how everything was stupid. It was something he felt a lot but just now was maybe the clearest ever it had been. No wonder he got fed up. Anybody would. Sometimes it made ye angry.
Sarah was looking at him. It was hard to look back. She was so straight and honest, so straight and honest. Ye knew that immediately.
Ye did. She enjoyed everything and was interested in everything and if you did something well then she was interested in that too. Her eyes shining, and sad, how she was looking at him. Was she worried? How come? He hoped she wasnt. He was fine, it was just normal; this was life, kind of stupid sometimes; him and Dad.
Sarah’s father and mother were at the back door of their house, quite close to where Dad was standing. And foodsmells were coming, like good cooking, whatever. Sarah’s father strolled over to him. Weird. Dad saw him and was not sure what to do. He was just being friendly. Dad stood there waiting. It was weird to see. Sarah’s father said, Hey, I’m Henry.
Dad gazed at him.
I’m Sarah’s father. He gestured at the back door of their house. We’ve prepared some food. You and your son are very welcome to join us.
After a moment Dad said, We cant. We have to leave, we’ve got a bus to catch and eh . . . Our luggage too, it’s at the motel and eh . . .
You talking the Sleep Inn? They’re friends of ours.
Dad frowned at Murdo.
They’re good people, said Henry. What time’s your bus?
Ten past three.
Okay, you got plenty of time huh. I can call them.
Eh . . .
You all can pick up the luggage later.
No. No. But thanks. We have to get ready and eh you know, but thanks for the offer.
Your son here’s been keeping us entertained. Henry grinned. Now we got to feed him.
No, really, we have to leave eh we just eh . . . Dad glanced at Murdo but Murdo had his head lowered and maybe didnt notice.
Henry waved his hand at Dad in a relaxed manner.