The Salt and the Flame by Donald S Murray

Author:Donald S Murray
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Saraband
Published: 2023-12-08T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-three

It was cars that drew Hugh’s attention. Mairead was aware of this because, each time they walked down a street together, he would notice every vehicle that passed by, pointing them out with his finger. He had the same sparkle in his blue eyes as his older brother Roddy possessed, though his hair was darker, his shoulders a little broader.

‘A Ford Model A,’ he would say.

‘A LaSalle Coupe.’

‘Cord 812 Convertible.’

‘Chrysler Model 70.’

Sometimes he might even recite the numberplates on these cars, imitating the sounds he had sometimes heard when his father sang a verse or two of Puirt à beul in his home.

And then there were the days he’d spot a strange car in the distance. ‘I want to go and see what it’s like,’ he demanded.

‘We haven’t got time to go there.’

‘But I want to! I want to!’ he yelled, stamping his feet again and again on the sidewalk. ‘I need to see it!’

She tugged his hand to draw him away. ‘No. No. You can’t! We haven’t got time.’

‘Please! Please! Please!’

She knew where he had obtained both these skills and temperament. Not her family line but Finlay’s, passed on through the generations from men like his cousins, working in the blacksmith’s store in her own village of South Dell. She had been there a few times with her father when she was young, looking at the forge and anvil, the range of tools that were on display, her neighbours Tormod, Murdo and Calum working away – the last man crippled by some illness he had caught while in Liverpool on his way to war. She recalled feeling a little choked by the smoke of the coal fire, the blackness of the soot that could be seen in so many corners of the room. It was a reaction that remained with her. There were times when she put her scarf to her lips in order to avoid gulping down the smoke of a passing lorry with a broken exhaust. She also had seen Finlay raging, slamming doors and cursing as he went along, both inside and outside their home. It was something that happened far too often, his rage increasing with the years.

Hugh’s interests were the same as his father’s. Sometimes she would find the boy on his haunches or knees, stretched out on the pavement, looking at the underside of some vehicle or other he had noticed parked nearby. He was fascinated by the variety of their size and shapes. Trucks. Vans. Cars. Buses. The many different vehicles that helped to fashion the roads and buildings of Detroit. He looked at them all, taking in the curve of every wheel, the intricacy of each engine, as if he were trying to take a photograph of each detail. There were questions, too, he directed towards his father, especially about the work he was doing since the beginning of the war in Europe, now that Detroit was part of the US Arsenal of Democracy, as FDR called it again and again.

‘What’s it like working on a jeep?’ he would ask Finlay.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.