The fields further doon ir showin signs ae the comin summer noo. The air’s changin. Yi noticed that in the countryside up here. This summer wid be some buzz. The wans previous, yi hud been just the wee guys kickin the dust n tryin tae git the odd bit fur a joint or a few stolen cans. This year wid be different. We’re the main troops noo n our time hus come. Six weeks ae madness lay in store fur us. Yi end up skint n back kickin that dust desperately seekin adventure n listenin tae tunes on The Box wae yir maw’s windaes flung open, lettin these new tunes fill the street wae the colour ae trance n teenage rebellion. The big Orange walk fell right in the middle, which practically guaranteed madness. Long as we got a few burds n a few mad aw-nighters, A wid be happy. Yi kin see it comin wae every night that stretches n holds on tae dusk a wee bit longer. Yi kin be oot wae the troops tae eleven o’clock in the light nights ae the summer up here. Aw sittin roon a wee fire at the log, drinkin yir bottles until the darkness creeps in around yees in the woods. The endless nights ae summer n eternal youth.

We reach the bridge n Big Kenzie is handin the cans oot. These ir the hazy dayz, chilled oot material. We sit n roll a few joints n drink our bottles, still draped in Union, Ulster n Irish Tricolour flags, n forget aboot division n the afternoon n the days slippin away. That doesnae matter but cos time is on our side, the summer stretchin oot before us wae a million possibilities ae love n war, high dayz n fuckin adventure on the Lanarkshire Frontier. The wind picks up n sweeps roon the eld railway bridge n an amber sunset fades behind the Campsies, leavin a dark silhouette in their stead. A’m standin lookin at them as A crack a fresh bottle ae wine n neck it. They’ve seen it aw come n go n yi feel small in their mighty presence. Ma granny used tae say that the hills looked over yi, blue n expandin forever, beyond the cemetery n the rollin green fields behind. The sky goes dark n aw yi kin see is the orange tip ae a joint gittin passed between eld pals n the Cumbernauld streetlights that come on in the distance.

PART II

Galvanised

Murder and culpable homicide rates across Strathclyde have jumped by around 40 per cent, according to the latest figures from Scotland’s biggest police force.

Chief Constable Steve House said that at least 47 of the victims were known to their alleged attackers, and said cheap drink and the rise in the number of house parties were also significant factors.

Deborah Anderson, Evening Times