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Chapters (142)
  1. About the Author
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. NOTEBOOK 1
  6. Brukie’s Sandy
  7. April 1972
  8. 1
  9. May 1972
  10. 2
  11. 3
  12. June 1972
  13. 4
  14. July 1972
  15. 5
  16. 6
  17. 7
  18. 8
  19. October 1972
  20. 9
  21. 10
  22. 11
  23. October 1972
  24. 12
  25. December 1972
  26. 13
  27. December 1972
  28. 14
  29. December 1972
  30. NOTEBOOK 2
  31. Brukie’s Sandy
  32. January 1973
  33. 1
  34. 2
  35. 3
  36. 4
  37. 5
  38. 6
  39. March 1973
  40. 7
  41. 8
  42. 9
  43. 10
  44. April 1973
  45. 11
  46. 12
  47. 13
  48. 14
  49. June 1973
  50. 15
  51. July 1973
  52. 16
  53. 17
  54. 18
  55. 19
  56. August 1973
  57. 20
  58. 21
  59. August 1973
  60. 22
  61. 23
  62. 24
  63. August 1973
  64. 25
  65. August 1973
  66. 26
  67. August 1973
  68. 27
  69. NOTEBOOK 3
  70. Brukie’s Sandy
  71. March 1974
  72. 1
  73. 2
  74. 3
  75. 4
  76. 5
  77. April 1974
  78. 6
  79. 7
  80. June 1974
  81. 8
  82. July 1974
  83. 9
  84. August 1974
  85. 10
  86. August 1974
  87. 11
  88. October 1974
  89. 12
  90. October 1974
  91. 13
  92. October 1974
  93. October 1974
  94. 14
  95. October 1974
  96. 15
  97. 16
  98. November 1974
  99. 17
  100. November 1974
  101. December 1974
  102. CODA
  103. Brukie’s Sandy
  104. 1
  105. 2
  106. 3
  107. 4
  108. 5
  109. 6
  110. 7
  111. 8
  112. 9
  113. 10
  114. 11
  115. 12
  116. 13
  117. 14
  118. 15
  119. 16
  120. 17
  121. 18
  122. 19
  123. 20
  124. 21
  125. 22
  126. 23
  127. 24
  128. 25
  129. 26
  130. 27
  131. April 1975
  132. Brukie’s Sandy
  133. 28
  134. 29
  135. 30
  136. 31
  137. 32
  138. 33
  139. Glossary
  140. Note
  141. Acknowledgments
  142. Works Cited

I thought for a moment and then I said, About bein’ poor. An’ about thieves. An’ London. And if he’d given me a chance, I would have thought a bit more and I might have said, It’s about what happens when ye want too much.

But Granda was shouting. Foolish quinies and folk from The Sooth with the devil in their soul and folk as’ll take ye straight off to hell and he dashed the book on the sand and waved a finger in my face.

Town folk an’ fisherfolk never do mix. An’ town folk from The Sooth are the devil’s work.

He stomped into the dark and I rescued Miss Birnie’s precious book.

Aye, I would have to be more careful.

~

He found his crew, Granda did, and a small gaggle it was, but he was content, even pleased, to have on board the Lily those who were blessed of the Lord. Better a simple one, I heard him tell Ma, who doesn’t question what be good an’ decent than a mannie with too many thoughts in his head an’ not an ounce of sense in any of them.

And while Granda sang his hymn to ignorance, I tried to gather as many thoughts in my head as Miss Birnie could give me before I reached that line of chalk marking the end of my schooling. What would I do then? Whatever would I read?

October 1972

October 1972

My people were big on morality, lambsie, they prided themselves on that.

Even very young children in Roanhaven had a vague sense of what was proper and what wasn’t, bred into them from the cradle. I think it was this that had made me hide the purple silk, and also made me anxious about Kitta. But I was thirteen, and it didn’t occur to me that the hushed conversations outside the Auld Kirk, talk that stopped when Ma came out, had anything to do with my family. I just didn’t put it all together back then.

Now, when I watch the past play out before my eyes, I understand something else: that morality and what was proper were not always the same thing.

9

Brukie’s Sandy is galloping across the boatie shore with that peculiar rolling gait he has. I once asked Ma what was wrong with Brukie’s Sandy and she clipped the side of my head and said, Hush your mouth, Brukie’s Sandy is a child of God, an’ who are ye, Meggie Duthie, to sit in judgment on the Lord’s work?

I raise my pail of lugworms as he draws near. Ay ay, Brukie’s Sandy!