Queen Monzee-ay hadnt picked up the cream-coloured accordeon. 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 finger tips 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. Why dont my son Joel drive you there right now, go right to the motel and pick up your luggage. Then you all can come back and have some food.
No. Thanks. We need to get on.
Henry nodded.
Come on Murdo! called Dad.
Henry stepped back a pace now. Dad had started walking. Murdo followed. Disappearing would have been better. Into thin air. But he couldnt and had to wave to people because how could ye not, he had to. He did a half turn and a semi wave, but a couple of steps onward he managed to turn properly and give a proper wave and this time smiled a proper smile.
Aunt Edna gave him a big circular wave in reply. This wave summed it up and how even she stood like shoulders back and just straight, straight standing. It was like laughing at everything, Aunt Edna was laughing at everything and it was like swearing inside yer head but next time it might be outside because ye would fight anybody, it was up to you. That was Aunt Edna. Murdo had been clenching his right fist: he relaxed and allowed his shoulders to droop; it happened with the box, ye took off the box and the shoulders drooped, ye let them droop.
Dad continued ahead. Neither spoke until on the street outside Dad said, We wont bother with the shop.
They carried on toward the junction then left along the main road to the motel, not talking. Nothing to talk about. Murdo knew what Dad thought. He knew completely what Dad thought. So what? Not only was Murdo stupid he was daft. Stupid and daft. That was that.
He might have expected a row. It didnt come. Only silence. He was used to silence. Silence was good. He wanted to say it aloud: Silence is good Dad silence is good. When I am with you I enjoy silence.
Except in his stomach again, like being a kid when ye have done something wrong; the nightmare: retribution, the punishment to come, waiting for it to come and it would come, sooner or later: definitely.
Although Dad was right. Murdo never thought things through. Why didnt he? Daydreams and fantasies. Doing things and not thinking about what it was, the thing ye were doing, what the hell was it? why were ye doing it? could ye stop? was it too late?
Was there something wrong with him? Why didnt he think?
Murdo was a person who didnt think. Were there people who didnt think? If so he was one of them.
Anyway, he didnt want to think. He was happy walking. It was the fourth time walking this street and he was getting to know houses by their paintwork and fronts; the ruts in the pavement and dangerous bits where the roots of trees appeared through the ground and could trip people up if ye lost concentration. That was Murdo, concentration, he didnt have any, it was just part of thinking; better off not thinking. Nothing about nothing.
Back at the motel he stayed outside the reception office while Dad was in finalising details. He strolled along to the room and waited by the front door. On the upper floor the couple were on their chairs on the outside corridor. The old man called down again: Howdy.
Hiya, called Murdo.
Dad had ordered a taxi in fifteen minutes. Murdo was ready in five. Food in the fridge from last night. Three slices of bread and a sliver of cheese. Dad had left it for him. Murdo just left it, he didnt want to eat. He wasnt being huffy. Just the idea, he couldnt stomach it.
Ye wondered why Dad would do something like that: saying no to Sarah’s father. Murdo lifted his rucksack and slung it over one shoulder. Sarah’s father had been friendly. Murdo’s father hadnt been friendly back; the very opposite, not even polite. It was just embarrassing. Murdo should have told him to eat the bread himself.