Imbolc

Jis beyond the leathad which fell behind our hoose, there wis a wee coille. It wis aw the kina trees that would shed their leaves in the Autumn and at that time, you could see richt through them and they seemed aw lighted up and open. But it wisnae Autumn, it wis Spring and the leaves were sproutin all over the place like the saft wee lambs up on the moor. I wisnae supposed tae venture onywhur close tae the coille, for ma grannie said thur wur wild deer that roamed aboot in it and that they wud attack onyone who went near thur young, especially in spring. Some hings were oota boonds and no jis places. Fowk an tids were beyond the pale as weil. Like Big Bridie fae the craft across the wa'ar. Ah wisnae allowed tae talk aboot her, no even tae mention her name if Grannie wis payin heed. It wisnae jis ma grannie aw the grannies the auld wumin they never talked aboot her save the odd comment like An Diabhal toirt leis i! or other such curses. Aye. Big Bridie wis the scorn o the glen. We lads wur aw feart ae her ah don't know how. We never looked her in the ee when she passed us on the path. Naw, no wi her rid rid locks. We shook oor heids jis as oor grannies did. Naw, naw, She'll go tae the divil, aye, her n her callants, her big bothy boys aye n there wur feck o them tae. Big Bridie wuid jis toss back her rid heid and laugh that boomin laugh ae her's and the soon ae it wuid echo through the glen and set aw the grannies fae wan end tae th'other tae shakin thur heids and tut-tuttin and missin the slip-stitches in thur knittin.


Weel, ah must've been aleeven or twalt at the time, ah canny remember rightly since as the oors kinda went aw funny aroon then. It wis a gae Spring morn an ah wis playin wi ma baw ootside ma Grannie's gate (she widnae let me play in the garden cause ah knacked her floors which she wis gae pruidae, aye she used tae win local competitions so she did, wi her floors the brichtest an her kails the biggest in the glen ah weil remember ma Grannie Urquart stonin haudin a kail in yan hond ae a great big tulip in th'other an that wis before yer fertilisers it wis aw crap then ah mean guid crap, the crap o the coos an the sheep and sometimes, aye sometimes thur's nae shame in admittin it, the kak e human bains as weil.) Onyhow, ah wis kickin ma baw aboot in the lang, wild gress o the beinn when aw ae a sudden this notion comes intae ma heid tae venture doon intae the coille. Ah dinnae know how it came intae ma heid ah dinnae know but it did, mibbee it wis the guid fowk, mibbee, ah couldnae say no noo ah couldnae. So kickin ma wee baw a wee bit further every time jis a wee bit further, aw the while keepin a gae close ee on the kitchen ae the craft in case ma Grannie might spie me an caw me back intae the hoose an it wuid be nae supper and early tae bed. It's nae that ah wantit tae begowk ma guid Grannie. It wis jis that ah wis a wee boy and ah wis up tae wee boy's swicks. So there ah wis, movin towards the coille, an neither mon nor beast nearby no even the shepies no even the troddles ae sheep no even the braith ae a sheep let alane that ae a carle. Weil, ah got tae the wood's edge and paused. Jis fur a moment, jis enough to feel timorsome. But ah wisnae gan tae go back noo, no noo ah wisnae so ah gathert up ma baw ma freen aw yella wi green stripes it wis an ah walked like a mon straucht intae the coille.


The trees wur gae heich, the cabers, the blae lift. An then thur wur some which wur jis scrunts like they'd jis stapped growin, they wur stunted, like grumphie aud carles. But the shanks wur no like that. They wur aw smilin a bit like ma Gran. Aud, but freendlie. Aye. An thur leaves wur sproutin oot in aw directions, saft, green fingers shakin honds wi me aye like wan wean tae another. Ah fain likd the touch o those young leaves all over ma shooders, ma back aye an ah took aff ma shaes an trod wi ma bar fit alang the saft gruin. Aye, it wis saft wi aud leaves, last year's faw an the faw ae the year afore and the wan afore that. In fact the mair ah thocht on't, the mair ah realised that ah wis plowterin through history. Mibee somewhur beneath ma fit thur lay Saint Brendan's Island as ah'd been tailt by ma Grannie. That's whur aw the magic came fae. It didnae occur tae me that come Autumn, all those young leaves would be drappin aaf nine-tae-the-dozen. It didnae occur tae me then but it does noo, aye so it does. Ah couldnae see through tae th'other side so ah wuntet tae go through tae th'other side it's gae strynge how that happens tae a wean and it still happens tae the mon because we never really grow up no really no like those bastarts ye see in the stories ah mean the tippie stories whur they growe tae a resolution naw that nivir happens in real life. Nivir.


Ah looked back, tae see if ah could spot ma Grannie's hoose ma hoose whur ah'd been born an raised and thur wis jis me'n ma Grannie, ma Granpa hovin been kilt in the War ah dinnae remember which war but it wis some big stour or other. Ma maw... och, nivir mind aboot that. Ah looked back an couldnae see ocht. A shither ran through ma body an ah felt like greetin but ah didnae cause ah knew it wuid do nae guid. It nivir did. Ah wis treadin through the coille aw careful like, wan fuit after the other, balancin wi ma baw tucked alow ma car airm an ma richt aw balancin like in the circus since the grun wis aw bumpy what wi stanes an tufts ae grass an the like. Aye, an then ah saw a pad, a wee road weil it wis mair like a track, a trinkit track, aw ruts an bits ae heather comin awa aw over wi iteodha an hawthorne aw towerin over reachin doon so low that, wean as ah wis, ah hud tae bow ma heid as ah walked. The passage wis narra an low jis like two honds perched in prayer like the minister in the Kirk. But this wis nae kirk. Aw ae a sudden, ah came across a stane. A big, tall stane. Moss wis growin all over it which made it seem gae ault. Near wan side ae the stane wis a hole, jis big enough tae fit ma hond and nae mair. It ran richt through the stane, richt through. Ah stretched ma airms roon the clach chaol, ard so that ma lisk wis pressin up agin the cool rock and ah wis jis able tae haud honds through the hole. It wis gae strynge, but ah didnae want tae let go, ah felt as if it wis some other body's hond ah wis claspin on th'other side ae the stonin stane. Ah wis feart but ah wis also gae blithe an a terrible druis seemed tae come fae the big, cauld stane and tae rise up through ma wee stanes and alang ma tadger, the insides ae ma thighs, ma belly, ma back, richt the way up tae ma heid which began poundin it wis like Cailleach a' Gheamhraidh bangin her hammer on the gruin tae steek the earth fur the wold month aye, thump-thump-thump ma heid pounded wi the beat ae ma hairt the blood bellowin in ma lugs O Goad whit wis this the sow-thistles at the base ae the stane wur stingin ma bare legs but ah didnae care ah didnae care it made the torrent intae wan, flowin richt through ma bodie, fae ma tadger which wis sprung like the cabers up above, aw the way doon tae ma taes an aw the way up tae ma tap. An in ma mind wis a picture, a movin picture ae Big Bridie, her ae the craft across the wa'ar, her wi the big breists tae big fur hur ane guid they said and her big milky thighs and she wis movin an smilin and ah wis movin an smilin there agin the stane wi ma ees shut tight an ma back straicht as a silver tree O Goad O Goad O Goad an the rock wis rippin through ma breeks but ah didnae care naw ah didnae cause ah always ae fancied Big Bridie so did aw the boays thereaboots but they ma Grannie an they said she wis gan wi aw kinds ae billies ten or mair years awder an her aye in the fields and clais an by the baunk ae the burns a' beucaich aw fuck an ah wantit Big Bridie ah wantit her hot, braw thighs tae clasp aroon ma back ah wantit her tae ram me aye ah did jis like she rammed them big carles in thur creakin bothies aifter the coos hud been taken hame tae the coo-shed. An the stonin stane wis Bridie wi her rid hair jis like mine an she wis smilin at me, me, wee Scott who wis jis ootae his grannie's braw airms cause his maa'd gan aff wi some gallus Sasunnach so his grannie had telt him. An he couldnae even remember her face naw, no even whun he wis fawin asleep no even whun he wis hingin, no even whun he wis feelin like greetin but he didnae care cause it nivir did ony guid o fuck naw naw naw and the stane wis his maa and the stane wis Big Bridie an the stane wis his maa an the stane wis Big Bridie the dun coo wi her lang white wand touchin the hard earth touchin me makin ma body feel sae guid sae bloody guid an the siol flowin freely like the shairp whistle o the gawden and green plover, heavin an lyin, lyin an heavin in the deid calm o the coille wi the thistles an dockins aw aroon ma fit, the sow-thistle wi its thick white juice and ah wis Goad, Goad forgive me, ah wis Goad. An ah nivir noticed, as ah washed mysel in the wee alltan nearby that the whole coille wis growin aroon an awd broch, an awd faery broch aye an that wis why ma Grannie huid said ah should nivir go there.

But she wis wrang, ma auld grannie, she wis wrang.


Suhayl Saadi

Glossary
alltan = streamlet, brook
An Diabhal toirt leis i! = The Devil take her!
begowk = outwit
beinn = mountain
blae lift = blue sky/ heavens
bothy = hut, farmhand's dwelling
broch = hill-fort; fairy-mound
burns a' beucaich = the burn's roaring
breeks = breeches
callants = youths, fellows
Cailleach a' Gheamhraidh = the Old Woman of the Winter
car = left side
carle = young man
clach chaol, àrd = thin, high stone
coille = forest, wood
drùis
feart = afraid
feck = a lot
gae = quite
gallus = bold, mischievous, cheeky
grumphie = a pig, a grumbler
heich = high
hingin = in a poor state of health
iteodha = hemlock
kail = green vegetable, a type of cabbage
kak = shit
leathad = slope/ side of a hill
lisk = groin
lugs = ears
ocht = anything
plowterin = squelching along
Sasunnach = English person/ Lowlander
scrunts = shriveled stems/ shrunken things
shanks = stems of trees
shither = shiver
siol = seed, spawn, semen
steek = close, shut, fasten
stour = a storm, strife, conflict
swicks = tricks
tadger = penis
timorsome = scared
tippie = fashionable, stylish
trinket = rutted
troddles = sheep-dung

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