you, what else is it but luck? Genes is luck. If it is there in yer genes then that is you. People said it was “meant.” That annoyed Murdo never mind Dad. It was like God decreed. God would never decree somebody dying. It was complete nonsense. What about the ones that didnt die? What was decreed for them? Were the ones that died only put here for the sake of the ones that didnt die? What was decreed for them? Was Dad only put here to marry Mum then for their daughter to die then his wife as well? Then if the plane crashed and Murdo drowned but Dad didnt. So everything was for Dad, and God was decreeing it all for him? Is this why Murdo was on an airplane, so he would die in the crash? What about the pilot and the other passengers? Did they all die for the benefit of Dad? It was total nuts.
In a movie there was a woman in a crowded airport kept seeing this figure and it was a ghost flitting here and there. The woman knew the ghost was “for her” and was looking to find it. The ghost kept one pace ahead and the woman could never reach it till then she missed the plane. The plane crashed and was never seen again. So the ghost there was good, more like a friendly spirit. Murdo didnt believe in ghosts but spirits were different; spirit worlds, “presences.” There could be a presence. He used to get a feeling when he was doing something like eating a nectarine. It was Eilidh, his sister. She loved nectarines.
***
At the Amsterdam terminal nobody in the waiting area for Memphis was from the Glasgow plane. Not one Scottish voice apart from him and Dad. Different people from all different parts of the world. Four Muslim girls too. Probably to do with school or their religion. Religions have different things about them. Maybe this was part of theirs. They wouldnt have noticed Murdo.
Although why not? People get noticed and he was a person. Imagine speaking their language. One of them could have asked a question and nobody knew what she was saying except him. Maybe they were getting hassle to do with being Muslim. And he would say something and she would be amazed and happy at the idea of this guy knowing.
In Memphis airport they kept close together. Long lines of people queued at the place for visas and passports. The lines twisted round to make use of the floor space. Cops or maybe soldiers walked up and down with guns and sticks in holsters. Some had rifle weapons cradled in their arms.
Dad touched Murdo on the elbow, thinking he was staring but he wasnt, he was looking. Everybody looks. Ye see something new and so ye look. People do that. Why not? Otherwise they wouldnt have eyes, they wouldnt see where they were going. Who to talk to, they wouldnt know. Some people were kept to one side, looking about or staring at the floor; children, everybody.
Then a security man poked Dad on the arm. Dad was annoyed. The guy knew he was but didnt care, he just gave him a look as if “hurry up hurry up.”
In the carousel section the luggage hadnt arrived but the conveyor belt was moving. Murdo went in for his phone automatically. This time he didnt try all the pockets. That was that, he didnt have it. Dad should have had his own phone anyway instead of relying on Murdo. He said he wasnt, he said he was just taking a break from using phones. Fair enough for texting and making calls but for like checking information, if ye couldnt go online, it was just a problem.
People were shoving forward to get a better view of the luggage. Kids too and it was a bit dangerous. Dad kept watching in case one of the kids fell or got their hand stuck someplace.
Outside the restricted access area friends and relatives gathered; some holding cards with names written. Maybe somebody was waiting for them! Who could it be? Nobody. Uncle John and his wife were hundreds of miles away. There was an airport in a town near where they lived but only for domestic flights. They could have made a connection but it cost too much money. Dad had other relations in America but whereabouts nobody knew, only that they were there.
Signs and directions for taxis, connecting flights, buses, hire cars and trains. A big queue at the information desk. Dad left Murdo to guard his suitcase and joined the end. American people everywhere, walking fast; all going someplace. Even their clothes looked different. America was not only a country but the whole continent.
Dad was signaling him. What was that about? Keep yer eye on the suitcase! Murdo signaled back to him. He dropped his rucksack on top of it and squatted beside them. Dad was right; there was bound to be thieves, even in airports. Thieves watched and waited. How could you tell a thief? Even if a guy was shifty or dressed poor it didnt mean anything.
People wore different clothes here. Plenty guys in short trousers; old ones and fat ones. Some wore cowboy hats. Ye expected rifles and ropes to lasso cattle. One man carried an accordeon-case and was wearing cowboy boots as well as a cowboy hat. The case was amazing. This beautiful design and all studs and shiny buttons. He must have done it himself; if that was the case what like was the accordeon! The music would be different too. This guy was more like Mexican or South American, so different rhythms and different dances, but some of it would be the same; ordinary walking and fast walking, and slower like a woman stepping or skipping along; or doing that bouncing step women did especially: Step we gaily on we go, heel for heel and toe for toe.
Dad had reached the information desk and was speaking to the man behind the counter who was old for a job like this, straining to hear what Dad was saying then looking at him like he didnt know what he was talking about. Dad was irritated and called something to the other information worker who was a black woman with thick glasses and grey hair. She also was old and Dad came away soon after looking as if he hadnt learned much at all. The way he strode back Murdo knew they were leaving. He pulled on the rucksack before Dad grabbed the suitcase handle.
So that was them now, outside the building, fresh air at last.
The heat was immediate, the sun striking into yer eyes and yer head; even breathing, ye were aware of the difference in air. But folk were smoking and that had an effect. It made him dizzy as a boy and sometimes nowadays he felt the same, especially if he hadnt had much to eat. Not since sandwiches on the plane. Hours ago. And when before that? Amsterdam; sandwiches again. No wonder he was starving.
A local bus would take them to the main bus terminal. Plenty queued at the bus-stop, including soldiers. Some were Murdo’s age or not much older. Females and males. Maybe they werent real soldiers. Although back home you could join at seventeen and didnt need yer parents’ permission. Murdo was sixteen but coming up for seventeen. He fancied the navy. Imagine Dad coming home from work: I’ve joined the navy Dad. But if it was his life, why not?
At the main bus terminal people were ordinary but mostly poor-looking. All ages, some with phones, sitting texting, checking stuff out, listening to music. A big screen gave information. Buses were late and customers had to be patient. Some had their eyes closed, dozing. Others stretched out sleeping on the floor. If ye were alone ye would be careful. Police patrolled and had a dog, maybe for sniffing drugs. They had guns too. Actual guns. Big sticks and handcuffs, talking to each other while they walked like having a wee laugh to each other, but watching people at the same time. Dad said, Dont stare son.
I wasnt staring.
If they look at ye just look away.
Okay.
He hadnt been staring but there was no point making a fuss. How long since they left home? Ages. Hours and hours. Maybe they could sleep on the bus. Imagine big comfy seats and just lying back, like really comfortable and just closing yer eyes. But if the bus was late what then?
They found space on a bench. Soon Dad had his book out and was reading. Murdo could have brought one. He didnt think of it. Because he didnt know he was going to need it. What did it matter anyway, it was too late; too late for that and too late for this, this and that and that and this, just stupidity, when did that ever happen, forgetting the phone, where was his head, that was the question, all over the place.
