Dirt Road (35 page)

Murdo was onto his feet now gripping the accordeon-case handle, not looking to the front but squeezing his way sideways out. He could not stay because people would see him. Out from the row of chairs Aunt Edna was standing with the guy in the black studded hat. They were to the side of the space away from the seated area and people milled around next to her. She had glanced in Murdo's direction but wouldnt have seen him if he didnt do anything. He waved to her. Aunt Edna, he had to. She saw him coming and laughed a real laugh, introduced him to the older man in the black studded cowboy hat; a musician. Diego Narciso. Murdo had never heard of him.

Aunt Edna spoke in Spanish to the man, and Queen Monzee-ay's name was mentioned, then added to Murdo: I told Diego you aint ever heard of him Murdo, he says you got no education!

Diego extended his hand to Murdo and they shook hands, and clapped Murdo on the shoulder. Hey Murdo: you play with Queen Monzee-ay?

Murdo grinned.

Good. Diego nodded, turned to one of four young guys who were standing not far away, and spoke with him in Spanish. The four listened to Diego, seeing Murdo and the accordeon-case.

Aunt Edna put her arm round him drawing him to her, and
whispered: He is telling them about you. These young ones are his band, they play tonight Murdo. Diego is very famous here: one of the finest players – from Texas but you know like Mexico? Aunt Edna kissed Murdo on the cheek. People will be very pleased to see you here. Aunt Edna pointed over to where Sarah was sitting. You see Sarah and Joel there? Gene too. You know Gene? sitting with Sarah, a fine guitarist Murdo, he plays with you tonight.

Aunt Edna broke off to join the applause for the end of a song, then dropped her cigarette to the ground, and tried to crush it beneath the heel of her boot, but it kept burning. Murdo stepped on it. The band leader Lancey was telling the audience in a mixture of French and English that Queen Monzee-ay would now play one of her own songs. Lancey bowed to her. This song also from our tradition, Zydeco tradition. Zydeco, Haricot, Queen Monzee-ay! La maestra, magnifica, Queen of Zydeco music!

There was applause. Aunt Edna shook her head. Oh he dont know, she said, he dont know.

Diego touched her hand. Miss Kwankwan, he said.

Aunt Edna shook her head again. She saw Murdo looking and smiled, but only a moment, and he didnt know what it was, if he had missed something. Queen Monzee-ay had remained seated and she replied to Lancey's introduction with good humour: Merci Lancey, full of beans as usual! Full of shit as usual!

The audience laughed.

Okay, she said, I sing one of my own songs here, and ask Sarah – Sarah! Queen Monzee-ay beckoned Sarah forwards: My beautiful granddaughter!

Murdo shuffled sideways at the mention of her name, keeping out of view behind people.

Come play alongside your beautiful grandmother! called Queen Monzee-ay.

Sarah stood up. Gave the guy beside her one of these jokey type of looks between couples, and a wee punch on his arm. She walked along and up onto the stage, donned her rubboard. During the
applause from the audience Queen Monzee-ay squinting in Murdo's direction, but it wasnt Murdo it was Diego, she had recognized Diego, and she laughed: Señor Narciso!

She pointed him out to the audience: Mesdames et m'sieurs, un bad hombre in from San Antonio! Diego Narciso: the one and only!

People were surprised and pleased, including Lancey and the band members who shifted and strained forward to see him. Diego took off the cowboy hat and did a sweeping bow with it.

Diego is playing someplace. I dont know! Queen Monzee-ay called to him: Diego! Appearing today! Where and when?

Diego dismissed the question. Queen Monzee-ay smiled. Sometime today!

But the four young guys from his band moved fast; one went to the edge of the platform where he raised a pile of flyers in one hand. He shouted: Esta noche! Las siete y media! Tonight is seven o'clock! Place is Scene Kiosque à Musique!

The other three had bundles of flyers and began passing them out to the audience. Diego shook his head but was smiling. He exchanged words with Aunt Edna.

Then Queen Monzee-ay led Lancey's band on one of her good fast songs and members of the audience were up onto the floor dancing. She played it on the porch back in Allentown and it was good seeing how she was doing it here. Murdo would have stayed beyond the opening minute except he had to leave before the song, and when it ended, and Sarah came down from the stage.

Aunt Edna was engrossed in the performance and he could have escaped except he couldnt, not without saying; he couldnt do that. Aunt Edna, he said, I've got to go now.

To go Murdo?

Eh it's eh, my father. He's coming like eh so I'm going to have to go and meet him. Murdo smiled and turned to leave.

Aunt Edna hesitated. They'll be disappointed you've gone.

Yeah but I'll be there tonight. I just have to go just now. But I'll eh – it's just like my father eh…

Things okay with you Murdo?

Yeah.

Aunt Edna gestured at the front row. Joel's sitting there. And Gene – you know Gene?

Yeah but I just need to go.

How is your father son, how's he doing?

He's fine. He's fine. If ye just tell eh Queen Monzee-ay like I mean I will be there.

Okay Murdo.

Thanks, said Murdo and turned to leave. Two guys from Diego's band were watching him; they made to speak. One was the guy who had shouted the information earlier. He put his hand out, gesturing at the accordeon-case. Hey! You play with Queen Monzee-ay? Tonight like the Jay Cee, you play with her?

Yeah. Murdo nodded and stepped on. The guy put his hand forwards quickly, pointing at himself. Esteban, he said, then pointing at the other guy: Santiago.

Murdo waited. Santiago grinned, reached to shake hands. Esteban indicated the other two members of the band who were handing out flyers to some of the audience. We four, we are with Diego. Esteban shrugged. We play with him, concert.

Santiago jabbed his finger at Murdo's chest. Queen Monzee-ay? You play?

Yeah.

Your name?

Murdo.

Murrdo! Santiago nodded. Murrdo! Comp ticket! Santiago handed him a ticket. Is tonight. You come maybe?

Yeah.

Is comp ticket.

Thanks.

Seven o'clock, said Esteban. You are late, we are early. You come.

Yeah, thanks. Murdo shoved the comp ticket and a flyer into his jeans pocket and walked off fast, through the dancers and fringe audience, heading for the rear exit.

*

In the wee grass square the benches remained occupied. He had been waiting for one to become free. He checked for dog shit then sat on the grass, his back to a bush. Later he was awake, his head bent forwards. When he moved it it made a weird crunching noise in his ears. His neck was sore. He rubbed it with his right hand. The accordeon-case and rucksack were secured to his left wrist with his belt. His bum was numb. He must have been sleeping. Probably he had been. He looked for his bottle of water, swallowed a mouthful. He slackened off the belt and inserted it back through the loops on his jeans. How long had he been here? An hour and a half maybe. Late afternoon and warm.

No wonder he was tired. His last sleep was Thursday into Friday and tonight was Saturday into Sunday. The gig was set for 9 p.m. but probably didnt start until half past. So by the time he got to bed. Wherever that was. Back here. Unless the friends of Sarah's family were still offering.

He was hungry. The same foodstall was there and that was a place. An actual café would have been better, so he could wash his hands and face. They had these festival-type WC cubicles but they didnt have washing facilities. The toilet he had to use was too gross even to talk about like diarrhoea, totally disgusting, the pong was just like the worst imaginable. Whoever used it last must have been ill.

The idea of a shower. This was Saturday and he had been wearing the same stuff since Thursday. People going between venues would see him as a tramp. Maybe he was. Murdo lifted the rucksack and
pulled it on, lifted the accordeon-case, and started walking. Where to? Ha ha.

Unless if he went to Diego Narciso's gig. He checked out the flyer again. It was like a major concert! Murdo had never even heard of him. The trouble was it started at seven, so then it was like getting to the Jay Cee Lounge in time for the nine o'clock kick-off, although nine o'clock might mean nine thirty. The guys in Diego's band said it would be okay for time but would it? Maybe it wouldnt, and he couldnt be late. Because he definitely was doing the gig with Queen Monzee-ay. He thought he wasnt but now he was. For definite. It didnt matter about Sarah. She was nice and that was that. He was foreign and she was nice to him. So then it was like Oh she must love me. Stupid shit and his own stupid fault because he was so damn stupid, damn bloody daft, that was all.

Only how come she touched him? That was the one thing. She did touch him. So if ye touch somebody. Girls touch a guy and it is like nothing to her but for the guy it is like the guy is getting touched. So ye shiver! Ye just shiver. Sarah touched him and he shivered. How come? Like if a lassie has a boyfriend, well, touch him but dont touch somebody else if ye have a boyfriend already.

It didnt matter anyway.

Turn a corner and bumping into Dad: imagine. Where have you been? Walking about. Sleeping on the grass. What!?! Yeah well how long does money last like I mean Lafayette to Huntsville, plus accordeon? Could ye even buy a return it was so damn expensive? Maybe ye couldnt.

Dad would find him. Nose in the air, sniff sniff: he went thataway. Good that Declan Pike was there. Dad got stressed with people but Declan was different, Declan knew about stuff. The Jay Cee Lounge for Zydeco and Blues. Probably he knew it already. Probably he had been there. Your boy is doing a gig with Queen Monzee-ay so he will be there, he will be there. It's an honour. Declan would tell him. Declan would know.

The foodstall was ahead: same place same guy. He approached
the counter, settling the accordeon-case on the ground. The guy waited for the order. Murdo smiled. Could I have the fish again eh the catfish?

Catfish, you want catfish?

Please, yeah.

The guy went into one of the food compartments, got a catfish fillet and tossed it onto the hotplate. You want hot sauce?

Yeah. And what goes with it, is that rice?

Rice, sure. The guy spooned hot sauce onto the fish and began the frying.

Murdo studied the different side foods. I think it was salad you gave me the last time.

Salad, si.

Are ye busy? asked Murdo.

The guy grunted something and turned from him to see the listed meals and meal deals.

Murdo thought to say something again but the guy waved him aside. Another customer was there, a big man wearing short trousers. The foodstall guy took his order. Obviously he didnt remember Murdo. But the festival was busy and thousands of people were here. A bottle of coke and a packet of doritos. That was the customer's order, and he dropped coins into the tips jar.

The foodstall guy watched the man open the packet of doritos with his teeth while heading along to the main festival area. He yawned and shifted a step, looked at the catfish, flipped it over. He folded his arms and stared way over Murdo's head.

Murdo turned to see the grass square and the people going about. After several moments he said to the guy: I'm playing tonight eh…doing a gig.

The foodstall guy glanced at Murdo who gestured at the accordeon-case. The guy turned to rearrange something on the shelves behind him, wiped his hands on a dishtowel.

We dont go on until after nine o'clock, said Murdo.

Mm. The guy used the dishtowel to wipe along the counter top
then ripped the cellophane surround from a pile of paper plates. He extracted one and set it on the counter. What drink you want?

You've not got any orange juice?

No orange juice.

You have water?

Si water. The guy lifted the catfish up off the hotplate, and slid it aboard the plate. He picked a bottle of water from out the glass-fronted cupboard: You want salad?

Please, yeah. Murdo had taken the flyer for Diego's gig from his pocket and read the details. I'm going to a gig, he said, this other gig. It starts at seven. Scene Kiosque à Musique.

The guy was pronging out the lettuce and tomato. While he did that Murdo read aloud from the flyer. The guy jerked his head to the left, spooning a dollop of rice to the plate. Diego Narciso, added Murdo, he plays kind of

Huh?

The gig eh, Scene Kiosque à Musique.

Diego Narciso? said the guy.

Yeah.

Is Diego Narciso? You are going al concierto Diego?

Yeah.

Whohh! The guy laid down the paper plate and patted himself on the chest. Diego! I listen to him, I play his music. Here…! He reached for his phone. See Diego, his music!

You like him?

Si I like him, si: Diego! The foodstall guy laughed.

I've got a ticket.

Good! Lucky.

I actually met him. This afternoon.

The guy squinted, listening. Murdo passed him a $10 note. The guy took it and held it a moment. I met him this afternoon, said Murdo. I mean I was like introduced to him. That's how I got the ticket… Murdo brought out the comp ticket and looked at it, then showed it to the guy.

The guy studied it and replied, Is backstage.

Yeah.

The guy nodded and half turned from Murdo to collect the change from the till. He laid the money on the counter in front of Murdo. He smiled, lifted the dishtowel and flicked at the hotplate.

Murdo let the money lie. The truth is, he said, I cant actually go. I dont have enough time. Because like my own gig, where I'm playing, I've got to be there for something like eight o'clock. Diego's gig is seven o'clock.

The foodstall guy was listening but not maybe understanding.

Murdo said, I mean you could go. He reached over the counter, gesturing with the comp ticket. You take it.