|
It
would be fair to say that Roy Juskowiak was
looking for something slightly different from
his trip to Scotland.
That is, he was looking for something different
from his friends Rick and Mavis.
They had family in Scotland.
They were catching up with cousins and
nieces that they hadn’t seen for years.
And they wanted to see the land of their
forefathers (and foremothers), properly, for the
first time, now that they were retired.
Six
months ago, when they were planning their trip,
Rick and Mavis had been very enthusiastic about
the Majesty of Scotland Luxury Tour.
Back home in Hamilton, Ontario, they’d
badgered Roy to go with them.
“It’ll be good for you”, Rick had told his
old workmate, “now that Nadia’s gone.”
Roy thought it was funny how people didn’t
like to say “dead”.
So they said “gone” or “passed
away” instead.
Mavis
said, “It’s not good for you to be just
hanging about here, moping round your old
haunts.”
Roy didn’t think he was hanging about.
Or moping.
Life was OK.
He could watch Tiger-Cats football games
in the Winking Judge while drinking real ale,
then come home as late as he liked, no sweat.
What was so hard about being a widower?
But Rick and Mavis kept on at him.
And now here he was, ten days into the 21-day
trip, strolling around the seaside town of Saint
Andrews.
St Andrews liked to bill itself as
“The Home of Golf”.
That cut no ice with Roy, who considered
golf a trivial pursuit, like pool or
tiddlywinks.
It certainly wasn’t a sport, like
pro-football or hockey.
But he’d enjoyed exploring the town with its
university, its ruined cathedral and that
cliff-top castle.
It was all so ancient.
Jesus, parts of the castle dated back to
the year 1200!
You just didn’t have buildings that old
in Canada.
And what about those medallions set into
the sidewalk, marking the places where people
had been burned at the stake in medieval times?
He’d had a discussion with the
barman in the hotel about that: were people more
bloodthirsty now than they were back
then? Roy had talked about the Brown case and
the medieval way someone had punished him.
Wasn’t that just as bad as anything in the old
days?
James – that was the barman’s name –
didn’t think so.
It was much worse then, he said, because
it was driven by religion.
“If you want real cruelty”, said
James, “get religion involved. That’ll do it every time.
Look at those burnings in the 16th
century. Did
you read about Henry Forest?
They torched him on the north side of the
cathedral?
Know why?
They wanted the people in the next county
– across the water - to see the flames and get
the message, that’s why.
Cruel bastards!” said James, shaking
his head.
The discussion kept them going until after
midnight. That
was two hours after Rick and Mavis had gone to
bed.
©
David Gray
|
