FLYING LESSONS

April 2001

From the window of his kitchen, Calum Handy could see his niece, Marina Mackenzie perched on top of a roadside strainer post while idly lobbing pebbles at a sheep. It was quite an achievement to sit on a strainer post at all, yet the girl managed it with grace, and even seemed to be perfectly comfortable. One of her stones described a lazy arc and struck the sheep's head with a dull clunk. The sheep - not realising where the sudden blow had come from - stood completely frozen in an air of mild bemusement. A second stone hit its backside, and then a third. It stampeded away down the village road, uttering a series of staccato bleats which hung in the air for a second, and then melted away into the quiet morning. Calum opened the window and called out. "The kettle's on. Do you want a cuppa?"

Marina waved and jumped from the strainer. She was at that borderline between child and adulthood when mature poise can be followed by a couple of skips and bounds that would look ridiculous from someone a couple of years older. She was the third of Calum's sister's four children. The first two were highly capable girls, and the youngest was a boy - the darling of the family. Calum had watched them all grow, and it often seemed to him that Marina was somehow superfluous to requirements. The others had their definite place in the family hierarchy, yet Marina seemed lost in a kind of limbo. The others might be questioned as to their movements and activities, but rarely Marina, and she carried an air of elusive freedom about with her, drifting like a passing cloud. Even her name seemed to roll quickly off the tongue. She had not so much been brought up, but had grown, like a tough little weed, and that was how Calum thought of her - as a dandelion. Hardy and resilient, but with a certain beauty and fierce spirit.

She came along the road, hop-scotch style, walked into the kitchen and slid onto a chair, stretching her legs out in front of her. They ended in her usual oversize trainers with massive soles and fluorescent laces. She wore baggy black jeans and an immaculately knitted pink gansey patterned with stars.

Calum frowned at the trainers. "You've got a firm grip on Lewis," he commented as he made the tea and opened a tin of assorted biscuits. "And is that gansey one of Annie's?"

Marina nodded and looked down at the garment. "It's my favourite," she said. "It's cool."

"So it keeps you warm and cool at the same time. Aren't you the lucky one. But anyway, why aren't you in school?"

"Why aren't you at work?" Marina said, quickly selecting three biscuits.

"Don't take all the chocolate ones, you little minx. A man's entitled to a day off, is he not?"

"Not in your case. You're bone idle. And I'm not a minx. I'm a lady."

"Hah! Lady Muck, I suppose. I'm not bone idle. I'm laying a new concrete path. And by the way, ladies don't take all the chocolate biscuits and then eat them all at once."

"Some do," Marina replied through a mouthful of biscuit.

"Ladies of my acquaintance certainly don't."

"What ladies do you know? Apart from me of course."

"Do you want to drink this tea, or do you want it poured over your head."

Calum stared angrily at Marina and she stared ferociously back. They kept it up for thirty seconds or so, before dissolving into laughter.

"Why aren't you in school?" Calum said once more.

"Suspended," Marina replied, picking up her tea.

"Again! What did you do this time?"

"Old Cloutie caught me standing on the playground wall."

"Suspended for standing on a wall! That seems harsh."

"That loopy old witch has got it in for me."

"You shouldn't speak of your teachers like that," said Calum.

"Why not? She is a witch. The wicked witch of the west. And the north and the south and the east, all rolled into one."

"She has your best interests at heart."

"What heart? She hasn't got one and I told her so."

"Ah! So there's a bit more to it than standing on a wall."

Marina smiled sweetly at Calum and took another two chocolate biscuits.

Calum took out all the chocolate biscuits and dumped them in a pile on the table. "There," he said. "Eat all my biscuits. Eat the whole lot. Get fat. Get spots. Get rotten teeth."

Marina kept up her sickly smile and broadened it to reveal perfect teeth. "See. And I haven't got a single spot. Drives my sisters mad. Ladies don't have spots. Or fat behinds."

"So you were standing on a wall," said Calum. "And Mrs Macdonald came up to you."

"Yes she did, the old witch. And I told her I wasn't doing any harm. I was only standing on a stupid wall."

"And what did she say?"

"She said there was a school rule about standing on walls. She said it was for my own good. I might fall off and crack my head open."

"And quite right too. Although a crack on the head might knock some sense into you. So did you come down?"

"Well not quite immediately. I told her that I wouldn't fall off, because the Head - the Head himself mark you - once said I had the agility of a monkey, and I hopped along the wall to show her."

"And how did she take that?"

"She gave me an essay. She said I was impudent and that I was wasting her time, although it was not her time but the Lord's time, since he made all time, and that whenever you waste time or someone else's time you're sinning against the Lord. So she gave me an essay for wasting the Lord's time."

"Is that when you questioned the existence of her heart?"

Marina paused. "No, not quite. That's when I called her a mad old witch and told her she was completely round the bend. I told her about her heart after I'd been suspended."

"So you were really suspended for questioning Mrs Macdonald's sanity."

"No. I was suspended for telling her to go and get flying lessons."

Calum Handy laughed and swallowed tea at the same time, causing him to choke. "And what exactly does that mean?" he said eventually.

Marina held up her right index finger. It was small, well-shaped, and decorated with traces of pink nail varnish that almost matched her gansey, and a cheap metal ring with a skull and crossbones. "It means she can get on her broomstick and go up there to cuckoo land where she belongs."

"Oh aye," said Calum. "I know what you mean. That happened to my good friend Creg when we were young lads - about your age."

Marina's eyes widened. "You're kidding."

"Not at all. You know the corner house? The one that was sold recently."

"Aye."

"Well, at that time, there was a bachelor living in it, all alone. He'd been shell shocked in the War and we all reckoned he was soft in the head. But strong! An ox of a man. You should have seen him. Iarann he was called, because of his strength. The strongest man ever to come out of Marabay. In my lifetime anyway. Well our great prank was to fire stones at his chimneypot. It was hard to hit, but when you got it right on target - man it was wonderful. It would echo right down Iarann's chimney and into his sitting room. He would burst out of his door - erupt more like it, like Vesuvius - and the chase was on. We'd go pelting through the village, scattering like hens. Some behind peatstacks, some into byres. It was grand fun, because all the time we were petrified. You see, we firmly believed that Iarann was so strong because he ate human flesh, and that a lad of our age would go down as a real tasty treat. One time it was coming on dusk, and me and Creg and a few others decided to bait Iarann. We got our stones, went to his gable end and commenced firing. In less than twenty seconds we had three direct hits. You could hear the echo, fading off into the twilight. We watched the door, ready to sprint, when suddenly a cold chill seemed to spread right over us and we froze. Iarann was right behind us. He'd been waiting behind a wall. He seemed double his normal size. He looked huge - the biggest man who ever lived. His shoulders were spread wide, like a cormorant's wings when sitting on a rock. He swooped forward and that broke the spell. We all ran, but we heard yelps and when we looked back we saw that Creg had been collared. There was nothing we could do. Iarann picked Creg up with just one hand and held him high above his head. And do you know what he did then?"

Marina shook her head.

"He took Creg by the ankles and started to spin him around, just like throwing the hammer at the Highland Games. Round and round, faster and faster, until he was spinning like an aeroplane's propeller. All you could see of Creg was a faint blur. Then Iarann let him go, and off he went, up in the air like a meteor. I tell you, that was some flying lesson Creg had that day. He landed half a mile away, in a ditch. Iarann walked indoors without saying a single word. I can tell you, not another single stone was ever fired at that man's chimney again."

Marina Mackenzie looked at Calum with her lips tightly pursed and her eyes fixed. Calum returned her gaze with impassive calm.

"Nonsense," Marina said. "Absolute, complete and utter nonsense. You're a stranger to the truth."

Calum continued to gaze beatifically. "I know what I know," he said. "I was there. I was a witness."

Marina's tight lips broke into an ironic smile. She held her index finger aloft, and for a moment, the skull and crossbones reflected the sun coming through the kitchen window. "Flying lessons," she said, and started to laugh while pointing her finger accusingly at Calum. "You just get up there to cuckoo land with old Cloutie. You deserve each other."

Calum raised his finger also and pointed back at her. Briefly, their fingertips touched, his rough and stained with cement dust, hers slender, smooth, and slightly pink. Calum let his hand fall back to his side. "You may bear the Mackenzie name, but you're a Handy through and through," he said. "It's written all over you. Still, you've a long way to go. Don't let them grind you down."

Marina grinned and walked to the door. "Thanks for the chocolate biscuits."

Calum Handy grinned back and watched her go. The stars on her gansey seemed to stand out with a life of their own, glowing and assertive, as if they were powerful protective charms. Perhaps they are, he mused, as the gate clicked shut behind his niece. I wouldn't put it past old Annie to work something like that. I really hope they are. The thought faded as he walked back to his cement mixer.