This is a work of fiction. It is a sequel to the other stories, beginning with "A Letter from America" that have appeared in adult/youth, young pals, and no sex. Not one single character is , or is based on, a real person. I have borrowed the names of places, and even of some buildings and institutions in those places, but their personnel remain fictitious. They do not represent real people. I have to point out that the story was written in 2020. The year 2020 was largely cancelled due to the Covid19 virus. You will find no reference to that emergency in this story, which represents things that might have happened if the virus hadn't.
I hope you enjoy this story. I'm grateful to Nifty for publishing it. Nifty makes no charge, neither for me to publish, nor for you to read these stories, but it does cost money to publish them. If you enjoy the stories, please consider making a donation to Nifty at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html so that he can continue to bring these stories to you.
A Highland Fling Chapter 3 By Jonah
"I've just brought ye a nice cup of tea. Ah the wee bairn. He's so peaceful."
"He's very precious Janet. You'll love him once you get to know him."
"Aye, he'll have had a hard time, I'm guessing. It's good that he's with people that love him now."
"He deserves it Janet. He's a good boy, and has such good manners. For instance, when people are talking about him, he just carries on pretending to be asleep."
Luke couldn't resist smiling. Fortunately Janet matched his smile.
"Aye, well I'll let ye drink your tea in peace. Fergus is cooking breakfast. We'll be going to the Kirk at eleven, along of it being Good Friday. Ye're welcome to come, or not, as you wish."
"I think the boys will want to come Janet, and I'd like to, if that's alright."
"Ach of course. Well I'll leave ye in peace."
As she left, the peaceful one tried to snuggle up closer. I moved his arm and eased him away.
"Careful Luke," I told him. "You nearly took your morning shower in hot tea just then."
All the same it was a lovely way to start a beautiful day.
Showering in the outdoor bathroom was invigorating (well the boys thought so).
"They've put a stool in there for you, so that you can sit down to shower," said Peter cheekily.
I seized the little brat.
"Any more from you, and you'll not be able to sit down," I told him as I tickled his ribs. He soon squirmed away. I guessed the stool was for Janet.
Fergus had prepared what he called a "full Scottish" breakfast, which was delicious. None of the boys had ever tasted black pudding before, but they loved it. One day one of them will think to ask how it's made, but I'll reserve that conversation. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.
"Fergus will be going to the Spar shop, in the village, to get our dinner," Janet told the boys. "Would ye like to go with him to take Lady for a walk?"
The boys excitedly affirmed that they would like precisely that.
"It'll take all three of us," said Peter, remembering his first encounter with Lady.
"No," said Janet. "She knows you better now," thereby revealing in whose room Lady had spent the night.
"She certainly does," said Simon, in whose lap the front end of the dog resided at that moment.
"Will you be OK love?" Fergus inquired, as he reached for the tweed jacket and the dog's lead.
"Aye, I'll be fine," said Janet. "Mind, we only want bread and tatties. There's plenty of carrots left, and we've already got the beef in from Wullie."
"Aye, we'll not be long."
Now I was expecting that we'd follow the road back into the village, but I expected wrong. We set off Northwards across the heather and through the woods, right up to the burn which flowed into the river just the other side of the village. No lead for Lady on this bit.
Now a pyrranean mountain dog is a large animal, as Peter had discovered the hard way, but when she darted off into the heather, she vanished from sight. We would catch occasional glimpses of a flourish of tail, or of the black, brown and white monster leaping on something, just for fun. Now and again she would tire of her own company and would charge through the heather in search of human companionship. When she found it, the lucky person would end up on his back. It was a game she loved, and so did the boys. If they spotted the beginning of a charge, they would call her. Fergus and I, walking side by side, did not say much to each other. It was not a morning for talk. It was a morning to just enjoy. There were highland cattle on the far side of the river. There were the birds, earnestly chattering about something that was obviously important. The sound of childish voices in play, and the happy bark of their big canine friend, all added up to a perfect morning. This was the world that God made. This was how He meant it to be.
We followed the burn for a while, the gurgle of fast flowing water adding to the chorus of Nature. Lady had to be in it, amongst the stones and rocks, enjoying the rush of water around her knees. I was only just in time to stop the boys from following suit.
"Ach! Let them be Jonah," said Fergus. "If they take off their shoes and socks, they can walk down the burn to the railway. Do ye not want to join us. It'll cool your feet."
As Fergus pulled off his stout boots and stockings and stepped into the burn, I shrugged and followed suit. So did each of the boys. The clear water was almost freezing. It felt good on a warm day. It was hard to believe that we were on the same planet as London. We walked carefully down stream. A sharp two-tone hoot told us that a train was on its way, and soon we saw, through the trees, the Inter-City 125 clattering over the concrete bridge over the burn. He'd not be expending much diesel fuel running down there, braking as he approached the village.
A little way short of the bridge we climbed out of the water.
"We haven't brought anything to dry ourselves on," said Luke.
"Neither has Lady, "said Fergus, "but she'll manage. If ye walk barefoot in the grass for a wee way, ye'll soon dry off. Then ye can put your socks and shoes back on. Be careful while ye walk barefoot though. The grass will not harm ye, but the thistles might."
Well the boys did not mind any of that. They were normally barefoot at home anyway. We turned and followed the railway back towards the village. Lady knew the way, so we followed her. Fergus didn't need to say much at all.
Eventually we came to a rough track, that became a narrow road, that, eventually, joined the main street not far from the Spar shop. Fergus bought his groceries then we headed for home.
Janet had the kettle on when we got back.
"Did ye paddle in the burn?" she asked.
"Aye we did that. It was braw the morning."
"Aye, the burn is braw when it's tame," Janet replied.
"You've never seen it anything but tame woman," Fergus retorted.
"No but my mother did," she replied. "She went up there that day with her mother and father, and helped with the poor wounded souls. Her father was the doctor ye ken?"
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," I said.
Fergus sat down and took a sip of his tea.
"Ah, Jonah, " he said after a few moments thought. "Where ye live in Harrow the place does have something in common with Carrbridge. They've both been the scenes of bad train accidents. Ye'll have noticed that the bridge over the burn is a concrete one. Well, until 1914 it was a stone arch. It was a very narrow one. One afternoon in 1914 a bad storm built up in the hills, away over there. The heavens opened, and lightning flashed and thunder crashed, and the Baddengorm Burn, which we walked down this morning, was running ten foot deep, and carrying boulders and uprooted trees with it. It carried away the railway bridge just as the Perth to Inverness train was crossing it. One coach of the train ended up in the burn, and three people were killed, but a lot were wounded. When the waters subsided, they strengthened the piers of the stone arch and put in that concrete girder that's there now."
"Aye," said Janet, "they had to rush to get the people out of the coach, because the water was still rushing down. Tree trunks and boulders kept crashing against the carriage. Those who went down had to be roped to people on the bank, or on the bridge piers. Then, in half an hour, the sun came out, and the burn started to look as if it was pretending to be innocent. There was still debris littered around, but the burn just gurgled down as it does every day."
"Wow!" said Simon.
I realised that I had been holding my breath. I let it out and took a sip of tea.
The two younger boys were just gaping, their mouths hanging open.
"Well," said Fergus, getting up, "It's time we were getting ready for the Kirk".
We put on our Sunday best and we all walked together to the Church. Fergus had offered to get out the Landrover to save Janet a walk, but she would not hear of it. Lady took charge of the cottage.
It was a more formal service than we were used to, but the hymns were familiar, and the boys listened solemnly to all that transpired.
As the indoor part of the service finished, the congregation were to take a "walk of witness" to the river bridge, for the finish of the service. An elderly gentleman bearing a large wooden cross barred our way.
"Alan!" said Fergus formally.
"Fergus!" said the man, then turned to me.
"If you'll forgive the liberty Sir, " he said, "we usually ask one of the children to carry the cross, and lead the procession. Do you think one of your boys will do it?"
"Peter, would you like to?" I asked.
Peter said nothing, but took the cross from the man. Fergus looked down at Peter.
"Peter," he said quietly, "nearly two thousand years ago, Our Lord carried the cross through the streets to His death. He did it to show you how much God loves you."
Then, turning to his brother, he continued, "and when it got too much for him, a man called Simon helped him."
"You lead Peter, " said the man called Alan. "The priest will follow ye, then we'll all follow.
Peter held high the cross, and we all fell in behind him. A silent procession walked up to Station Road, and then along to the Dulnain river bridge. Janet walked proudly between Fergus and I. Simon had fallen in at the front, behind the priest.
As we gathered at the river, the sun disappeared behind a cloud. The police had stopped the traiffic, and only the water bubbling beneath us could be heard. Beside the concrete girder, on which we stood, was the stone arch - all that remained of the bridge after which the village was named.
We bowed our heads in prayer, as the priest intoned an intercession. Then the priest lifted his head. Loudly his words rang out:
"And it was about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over all the Earth until the Ninth hour. And the sun was darkened, and the veil of the temple was rent in the midst. And when Jesus had cried, in a loud voice, He said, "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit"; and, having said thus, He gave up the ghost."
I caught sight of Luke's face at that moment. There was a tear in his eye. It was a tear that caused me a flutter of pride - then Fergus put a hand on the boy's shoulder. He'd seen it too.
We sang, "When I survey the wondrous cross", to the tune "Rockingham". Was it really a year since we had sung this in America? I wondered if Jake, and his family, would be singing it this year.
After a brief blessing the priest thanked Peter, then took the cross from him and gave it to Alan to take back to the Church. We broke up then and walked home.
Janet had already put the beef in to cook, so she was not long in preparing dinner. The beef, tatties and carrots were followed by buttered hot-cross-buns, and we settled in the small cottage garden for the afternoon. Janet busied herself in the kitchen while the boys played with Lady, and Fergus and I put the world to rights.
It was soon teatime, and Janet's egg and cress sandwiches, were followed with fruit and cream and home-made ginger beer.
That done, Janet joined the boys in playing board games. And Fergus and I? Well we thought we had put the world to rights, but the closeness of the bottle of Glenlivet meant that we had to make sure.
TO BE CONTINUED