The Skye in June

by June Ahern

  Cathy felt Jimmy’s hands shake as he took her elbow, moving her forward. She could see sweat on his brow. At a safe distance, he whispered in her ear, “Our Lady heard your prayers.”

  She fingered the rosary beads in her pocket.

  The moon was only a grayish outline in the chilly dawn sky when the family left the airport lounge and boarded the airplane that would take them to their final destination. Shortly after takeoff, June developed a piercing earache.

  Cathy was prepared. On the previous flight a stewardess had given her little square packets wrapped in colorful paper and said, “Bubble gum. It’ll help if your girls’ get earaches from the pressure of the plane.”

  While Cathy unwrapped the gum for June, Annie wobbled up the aisle to see if she could help comfort her little sister. Her mother told her to bring the other girls so they too could have a square of gum.

  After chewing the gum to soften it, Mary was the first to discover she could blow bubbles. She blew and blew, making a spectacular big, pink, round bubble before it exploded with a “bang!” to the amusement of her sisters.

  The girls entertained themselves blowing bubbles, some small and some big. Annie was the first to notice the extra bonus inside the small colorful gum wrapper. It was a funny cartoon about a boy named Joe Bazooka. The girls delighted in their first experience with the sugary American treat. The stewardess came down the aisle and asked the family if they’d like a refreshment. Cathy and Jimmy took tea and the girls were thrilled with the new experience of Coca-Cola, an American drink.

  June pointed out the window and said, “Mammy, look, the moon lady’s face.”

  Cathy looked out to the bright full moon––so large it appeared close enough to touch. She said, “Man in the moon, it’s called.”

  “Did you see he followed us all the way?” June asked.

  “I did, hen.”

  “It’s a lucky sign. That’s what Annie said.”

  “A good omen it is, for our new life,” Cathy agreed.

  The family was disoriented. They didn’t know whether they felt tired or awake. The drone of the plane, combined with the long hours of travel finally caught up with the MacDonalds. Eventually, one by one, sleep came to each member of the family.

  Jimmy’s voice woke the family. “Girls, quick look,” he said pointing out his window. Sun spilled through clouds that encircled the top peaks of a grand bridge. There it was…The Golden Gate Bridge! They were almost at their new home in San Francisco.

  The girls rushed over to join their father at the window. Jimmy started singing the song he taught them on the bus ride to the Glasgow Airport. “San Francisco, open your Golden Gates.”

  Cathy joined the others looking at the spectacular view. She stared, captivated by the sight of the bridge.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 8

  EUREKA! SAN FRANCISCO

  AFTER THEIR LONG, twenty-four hour journey, the MacDonald family restlessly awaited Sandy Jordon’s arrival to drive them to their new home in San Francisco.

  “Don’t worry. He’ll be here soon,” Jimmy told his exhausted family after he hung up the phone. He moved a few steps away and lit up his last remaining cigarette.

  Slumped down on a large, battered suitcase, Annie and Mary leaned against each other and discussed what kind of candy they’d find in San Francisco. Annie listed her favorite sweets, then Mary hers.

  “I’m going to get a whole bag of Bazooka bubble gum and that candy the plane lady gave me, Peppermint Patty,” Mary said, nodding with finality.

  “Soon you’ll be Peppermint Fatty eating all that stuff!” Maggie said teasingly.

  “Shut up, you stupid pig!” Mary yelled, springing up and ready for a fistfight.

  “Girls!” their father boomed at them.

  Maggie sat with June on the sidewalk with a pad of paper and crayons strewn across a suitcase. June chose the crayons and instructed her older sister as to which colors to use on each figure in the imaginary family that Maggie was drawing.

  “No, Maggie, put this color here,” June said pointing outside the lines.

  “No. You’ve got to stay in the lines,” her sister said. “That’s the right way.”

  June frowned at her, frustrated her sister wouldn’t do what she instructed.

  Jimmy took another drag on his cigarette and snuck a sideways glance at his wife. Her face was drawn and pale. She was rubbing her temples, trying to ease her headache.

  An hour after they arrived, a big blue car drove up to the curb in front of where the MacDonalds waited. Sandy jumped out.

  “Jimmy! Cathy! Girls! Hello!” he grinned with outstretched arms.

  Elated to see him, everyone jumped up to greet their host. Jimmy grabbed his friend’s hand.

  “Oh man, is it good to see you,” he said, pumping Sandy’s hand up and down, enthusiastically.

  At forty-eight, Sandy looked just as boyish as ever, except that he was rounder and his face a deeper shade of red. “It’s a bloody long trip, isn’t it?” he asked.

  The family muttered an agreement. They were more intent on getting the luggage into the car and getting on their way than in having a conversation.

  “Here girls, give me those bags.” Sandy opened a large, empty trunk at the back of his car.

  Cathy hurriedly helped the girls put their small, carry-on bags into the car’s trunk. “Goodness sakes, Sandy! Look at the size of this boot!” she exclaimed. “It’s big enough to house a bunch of tinkers.”

  “Everything’s big in America, even the boot or as the Yanks call it, a trunk,” said Sandy with his infectious, jolly laugh. Soon the mood of the tired travelers lightened.

  “Well it’s a lovely car, Sandy.” She handed him the last of the smaller bags.

  “It’s a Chevrolet Bel Air,” he beamed. “I bought it new. It’s my pride and joy, next to my missus, of course.”

  Sandy had come to America in 1946, right after the war. Within a year, he wrote home that he had married an American woman. His family in Glasgow, thinking he’d never marry, had told Jimmy and Cathy they were thankful for the good news.

  As Sandy stuffed the last of the suitcases into the trunk, Mary brought over her own traveling bag. “Mr. Jordon, can I put this in?” she asked.

  “Call me Uncle Sandy.”

  “Are you my uncle?” she asked curiously.

  “I am now. We’re each other’s family here.”

  She looked intently, studying him. “Are you a Catholic?”

  He patted her head, “Of course. I’m your daddy’s friend. Why wouldn’t I be a Catholic?”

  “Will we have a Granda here too?” Mary asked.

  “We’ve already got a Granda and a Granny,” said Annie as she heaved a heavy bag into the trunk, not waiting for Sandy to help.

  “Mammy, will Granda B come here to live with us?” Mary wanted her mother to confirm the new situation with their new relatives in America.

  “Of course not,” said Maggie, rolling her eyes. “We’re too far away for them to come. We’ll never see them again.”

  Mary frowned at her sister’s remark. “Liar. That’s not true, is it Mammy?”

  With her head deep in the trunk of the car, Cathy paid no heed to the girls’ voices as she looked through a suitcase for some cardigans. Even with the sun shining, the weather in California was colder than she’d imagined it would be.

  “It’s true, Mary. We’ll never see them. Just like you won’t see Helen anymore,” said June, sitting on the car’s bumper swinging her legs back and forth and chewing bubble gum.

  With her hands full of different colored cardigans, Cathy heard June’s words about Helen. Her face paled, tears gushed forth, and although she cupped cardigans over her mouth, sobs broke through her lips. Jimmy rushed past the girls to help Cathy into the comfortable leather seat in the back of the car.

  “Girls, get in the car. Now,” Jimmy ordered. “We’ll be off in a minute. June! Off that fender.” He moved toward the front of
the car where Sandy was bent over the open hood, anxious to show off the engine.

  Maliciously, Maggie hissed at Mary, “Shut up about Granda and Granny, stupid.” And to June she said, “You made Mammy cry. Troublemaker.”

  Annie took control before a shouting match erupted. She walked past Maggie and bumped her shoulder hard. “Shut your mouth,” she said.

  Sulking, Mary did as her father had ordered and shoved June aside as she climbed in. June followed her, slapping at Mary’s backside

  Maggie moved aside and with an exaggerated bow, waved Annie into the car. “You first, Queen Anne. I’ll sit by the window.”

  Annie wanted to keep peace for the sake of her mother. “I’ll let you do that, Margaret, just this once,” she said sweetly to Maggie. She knew her sister hated to be called by her proper name.

  Annie got in the car and Maggie followed close behind.

  The men closed the hood and got into the front seat. Remarking on the size of the engine, Jimmy said jokingly, “That’s a huge piece of machinery. Hope you can handle all that horsepower!”

  “Aye, man, I can handle it!” Sandy revved up the engine and then let the roar calm down to a purr. The men nodded their approval of the sound. Sandy pulled the car away from the curb and onto the road toward San Francisco.

  The girls settled into the back seat with their mother. Cathy turned her head to look out the window. She remained quiet, not answering the girls’ questions. Soon the chattering voices died down and the three oldest girls were lulled to sleep by the car’s hum.

  June peeked out from the corner of her eye and saw her mother wiping tears off her cheeks. The little girl felt sure her mother was thinking of Helen. The next time June looked over she saw her mother’s eyes slowly closing.

  Too excited to doze off herself, she stood up and put her elbows on the front seat and listened to the men.

  Sandy said that he and his wife had just bought a new house in a part of San Francisco called the Sunset. “It’s got three bedrooms and two bathrooms.”

  “Two bathrooms? What do you need that for?” Jimmy asked jokingly. “There’s only three of you.”

  “You’ll have a house in no time. And I know a man who’s selling a car. I’ll fix you up with him. It’s great in America, Jimmy. You’ll see.”

  “A car? Don’t they use buses here?” Jimmy looked at the cars zooming past them on the freeway.

  The men began to talk about football. Sandy told Jimmy that in America, football was played differently and the Americans called Scottish football, soccer. For a Glaswegian man, soccer was a passionate subject. Arguments about the two rival teams, the Protestant Rangers and the Catholic Celtics could easily lead to fist fights. Sandy said there were many football teams in the States and religion wasn’t associated with them. He went on to say American football was reserved for “pansies” that needed gear. “They’re afraid they’ll get hurt, poor, wee lassies,” he added, laughing.

  June enjoyed herself looking at all the new scenery passing by and listening to the men talk. She liked seeing her father relaxed. Everything seemed better when he laughed. He told Sandy the story about when Peter’s wife, Janet, gave birth. The doctor, who was also a Ranger’s player, had rushed from his game to deliver the baby without taking time to change from his soccer uniform. When he arrived at Janet’s bedside, she screamed at him to get away from her. She didn’t want any Protestant touching her body, let alone her baby!

  With tears of laughter running down his face, Sandy choked out between laughs, “Och, away with you. You’re full of it, man!’

  “I am not! I’m telling you the truth,” Jimmy could hardly talk for laughing. “They had to call in a Catholic doctor. But I never did find out if he was a Celtic fan.”

  The humming of the car and deep laughter of the men finally lulled June to sleep with her head resting on the front seat. When the car stopped, the girls woke up and rubbed the sleep from their eyes. Outside they saw a parade of cars following a bus.

  Jimmy opened a door. “Here we are. Home,” he said happily.

  Eagerly, the girls scrambled from the car to stand in front of a three-story building. Their mother jumped awake at the sound of the girls’ chattering and stumbled out of the car. Surprised by a car whizzing past, she flattened herself against Sandy’s Chevrolet and watched the continual stream of traffic rushing past.

  “Careful there!” warned Sandy, holding the largest suitcase under one muscular arm and a smaller one under the other.

  “It’s an awfully busy street,” said Cathy. Not that it bothered her, since the MacDonalds had lived on the Dumbarton Road thoroughfare, in Glasgow. But she had envisioned they’d live on a wide street with palatial houses and gardens like she saw in the movie “Meet Me in St. Louis,”––one of her favorite images of what life in America would be like. Lining both sides of this busy street were tall apartment buildings with stores underneath. Nothing like the buildings the films had shown.

  “It is a main street. Called Market,” said Sandy as a streetcar rattled past.

  Jimmy walked over to stand next to her. Smiling, he said, “See up there? That’ll be our home.” The couple leaned their heads back and looked up the tall building to the top windows.

  “It’s big, clean, and affordable,” Sandy said as he unlocked the front door of the building. “In the flat below is a Polish family. Came over after the war,” he explained as he went in the door. “Up we go!” he called back to the MacDonalds.

  With arms full of suitcases, the men disappeared into the building. The rest of the group followed them.

  Inside June saw a steep wooden staircase that turned slightly as it continued upward. Annie beat her sisters up the stairs and reached the top floor first. She looked over the banister and shouted down to her mother, “Mammy, there’s thirty steps! I counted!”

  The girls ran around the flat in excitement. Their feet banged loudly on the bare wood floors as they hastily explored the rooms. Cathy put her hand to her forehead and yelled at the girls to stop running.

  Sandy told them the room next to the kitchen, the pale pink room lined with wainscot, would be their bedroom. Their mother said the large double bed with a red and black tufted headboard was where the three youngest girls would sleep, while a single bed next to the window was for Annie. Both Maggie and Mary claimed their side of the bed and decided that June would sleep in the middle.

  The kitchen was smaller than the one in Scotland and didn’t have an alcove bed for their parents. The girls continued exploring and found some of their parents’ suitcases in a separate room down the hallway from theirs. It had a double bed with a light wood headboard and a long, low matching dressing table with a big mirror attached. The girls stood in front of it, striking poses and making faces.

  The sisters ran back down the hall to their bedroom to begin unpacking. June drifted out of the room. In the living room, she found Cathy standing still in the light of the sun shining through the tall bay windows. Slowly she crept into the room to stand with her mother. Leaning against her, June put her arms around her mother’s legs.

  “So this is San Francisco,” Cathy whispered in awe at the view. She had heard that San Francisco was one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Never had she dreamed that one day she would make it her home. Above the rooftops of the tall buildings were two rolling hills alongside each other. Just peeking over the top of them came a low fog moving towards her at a snail’s pace.

  “They’re called Twin Peaks,” said Sandy, interrupting Cathy’s visual meditation. He came up behind Cathy and June and pointed to the two hills. “My house is beyond them, over by the ocean. It’s about three or so miles from here,” he explained. “It’s wonderful to be able to walk down to the beach. You know we Scots need to be by the sea. But funny thing is, I still think of Scotland as home. You know what I mean?”

  June glanced at Sandy and saw a faraway look in his eyes. Then she thought she heard her mother say, “Will I still think of S
cotland as home in years to come?”, but when she looked up, her mother’s lips were closed in a small sad smile.

  Jimmy came in to join them. They stood silently watching the fog continue its slow roll down the peaks, spreading across rooftops like a plush carpet. Soon it would cover the entire Eureka Valley, the area the MacDonalds would now call home.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 9

  MAKING THE HOME SACRED

  THE MEN HUFFED and puffed as they maneuvered a large, deep green horsehair couch up the stairs to the flat. Cathy waited at the top listening to Jimmy wonder aloud how much she might have spent on the heavy furniture. Between grunts and groans, Sandy remarked, “Jesus, Jimmy, this is the heaviest couch I’ve ever moved.”

  Cathy had gotten right to business exploring the Salvation Army, St. Vincent de Paul, Goodwill and every other thrift furniture store she could find. She made her selections after examining and debating over each piece. She chose durable furniture that was in decent shape and within her budget. By the end of each day, she and the girls would come back to the flat exhausted but excited about their finds. They carried all they could and left the rest for a later pick-up.

  The girls enjoyed unpacking the big trunk shipped from Scotland. In it was kitchenware, photos, and knickknacks. There were shouts of delight as the newspaper and cloth wrappings were removed, revealing the treasures underneath. The girls went from room to room, discussing the location best suited for each item.

  By Saturday night the flat acquired a lived-in look and the hollow echo reverberation off the hardwood floors lessened. The next day the family attended their first Mass at their new parish church. Later on Sunday they enjoyed an early dinner, a savory steak pie with gravy and buttery mashed potatoes. Cathy’s most praise-worthy dish showed that they had a reason to celebrate.