Dirt Road. James Kelman
the door. He ate the sandwich then undressed, put the glass of milk at the side of the mattress, switched off the lights and was in between the sheets immediately.
Where was the glass of milk? The dark was so intense. His eyes adjusted eventually. Only the one wee window, high up where the wall met the ceiling.
There was an old smell too. Maybe dampness. And a constant sound like wind swirling faraway, then a rushing sort of hollow noise, making ye think of outer space; these stories where the astronaut is sucked out the door and into orbit; currents of wind sucking ye out, except maybe ye dont get that in space, if everything is just the same then how can there be wind, there isnt any and there cannot be any. Or else things would move. Everything would move. But everything does move, everything does move, roundabout you. So it is the opposite of the wind, the wind inside out and you just filling a gap, sucked in filling a gap.
*
He was staring at the ceiling, staring at it for ages not knowing anything. But then was looking about. Wherever he was, he remembered; and pulled the duvet to his chin. Sunlight through the wee high-up window at the ceiling, a narrow strip of window. Up at ground level. This was the basement. Here they were. They were here! Murdo was out of bed at once, pulling a wooden chair to beneath the window. Not much space to walk. He stepped up on the chair to peer out but would have needed a step ladder to manage.
The one drawback: the basement had no toilet. He had to use the bathroom at the top of the stairs; the one for the main house.
The packet given him by Sarah lay next to the rucksack. Inside was the note and the two CDs. The one by Queen Monzee-ay and her band was a “greatest hits” compilation. The other was a selection of stuff. Murdo switched on the light to read the note. The gig was a week next Saturday at a place called Lafayette, 9 p.m. and the venue was the Jay Cee Lounge, which sounded like a bar, but that was okay. Murdo unpacked the rucksack to see what clothes he had brought. Probably not enough. Jeans and two shirts, joggers and T-shirts; a pair of shorts that did for swimming; underwear and socks. His idea was to wash stuff for the second week. He folded and stacked his clothes on top of a cupboard.
He had no idea of the time except he was starving and needed the toilet. When he opened the basement door he heard voices drone. He went upstairs but the bathroom door was shut and somebody in showering, probably Dad.
The voices came from the open-plan kitchen/dining area which was enormous compared to back home. But only Aunt Maureen was there, behind the kitchen counter watching television while preparing food. A weather report was showing. She became aware of Murdo suddenly and she laughed and came to meet him. Oh Murdo!
He laughed too like as if they knew each other already. But they did, they did know each other. You are Murdo, she said. Of course you are!
He made to shake her hand but she gave him a great cuddle instead, then stepped back to look him up and down. My Lord, she said, you are the spitting image! You are. She cuddled him again. You are the spitting image!
Who of? asked Murdo.
Everybody! My! How long since I seen you now son huh? What are we talking here is it ten years?
I think it’s eleven.
Eleven. My Lord and you are the spitting image!
There was a choice for breakfast. He took a banana and a plate of cornflakes. There was a big table in the dining area but also stools at the counter. Murdo said, Will I just eat here?
Sure.
Murdo sat on a stool. Aunt Maureen chatted between doing her work and watching the weather report. This television channel was devoted to the weather and nothing else. All different aspects of that. But it was interesting. Hurricanes were coming in the direction of Florida. Real hurricanes. They could cause bad damage to people. They got it tough down there, said Aunt Maureen.
In Florida?
Oh yeah.
Murdo hadnt known that. Usually Florida was a holiday destination. People with money went there for their holidays. So this was new information. He hadnt realised how big America was. Amazing difference in temperatures. It could be 130 degrees someplace then minus degrees someplace else. Blizzards and heatwaves, tornadoes and torrential rain. In California they had a place called Death Valley. Temperatures there were the hottest of all. Death Valley. You could go and visit. One of Aunt Maureen’s sons lived in California and had kids of his own, so her and Uncle John were grandparents.
Murdo had thought she was Scottish but she wasnt. Her family was American “from the beginning”. Except going back further, yes, they were some kind of Scotch-Irish people. I dont bother too much about that, she said, except if I know them or if it is some-body’s folks but not like old ancestors from way way back. So how about you now Murdo, how was your traveling, all the way from Scotland, how did you do that?
We went on the plane via Amsterdam in Holland.
Holland huh!
Then to Memphis here in America.
But you got a boat someplace?
Yeah, where we live it’s like an island. It isnt but it’s like one, ye need a ferry over to the mainland. Then the train to get the plane.
Well now there you are!
It was a long journey.
Sure it was, said Aunt Maureen. The place we would like to see now your Uncle John and me, that’s Hawaii. We were on the west coast last year visiting the children; drove up Seattle way, my Lord, the sunset there huh, it was just so pretty, that’s the ocean. Got talking to folks and they said about Hawaii, how we would love it down there.
Hawaii! said Murdo.
I been three times to Scotland, huh. Three times. Yeah. No one ever come here. Never. You and your father now you are the first. Aunt Maureen frowned. You surprised about that?
Yeah, I am.
Well it is true son and I wonder about it too. I dont say it to your uncle but I do.
Murdo heard a door closing. That’s Dad out the bathroom, he said and got up off the stool and went through.
He returned to finish his cornflakes. Aunt Maureen was watching the Weather Channel. Gale-force winds and a coastal town; huge waves blowing in over a wide road, guys taking selfies, jumping out the way of the water. A woman talked into the camera about damage to roofs and trees snapped in half and smashed onto cars crushing people. A total nightmare. Murdo carried his empty cereal bowl to rinse clean at the sink. You dont do that, said Aunt Maureen.
Murdo grinned but upturned the empty bowl on the draining board. He said, Is it okay if I go outside?
Huh?
Is it okay if I go outside?
Son you go where you want. This is your home and your family. You go ahead and you just do it. Dont go asking me.
Thanks.
No thanks about it.
It was bright in the dining area. Glass doors led from there to the patio and garden. He swallowed the last of his orange juice, rinsed out the tumbler and upturned it next to the empty bowl. Aunt Maureen, he said, I think people would love to come here. Honest. They would love to come. It’s just they cant afford it. It costs too much money. Otherwise they would. They definitely definitely would. It’s smashing here.
Aunt Maureen smiled.
Honest.
I hear you Murdo.
The dining room doors opened directly onto a wooden patio. He headed outside. It was a good size of a garden, bounded by hedges tall enough to block off the neighbours’ view, but cluttered with junk; old-style garden furniture and children’s outdoor toys mainly, including a chute and swings, and a scooter and a bike with a wheel missing. There was an old garden shed too whose roof looked set to collapse. He prowled around. A football. What a find! It needed air but could be used. He kicked it around, tried a few keepy-uppies but soon stopped. So very warm and