The Skye in June by June Ahern Page B

up and put her elbows on the front seat and listened to the men.
    Sandy said that he and his wife had just bought a new house in a part of San Francisco called the Sunset. “It’s got three bedrooms and two bathrooms.”
    “Two bathrooms? What do you need that for?” Jimmy asked jokingly. “There’s only three of you.”
    “ You’ll have a house in no time. And I know a man who’s selling a car. I’ll fix you up with him. It’s great in America, Jimmy. You’ll see.”
    “ A car? Don’t they use buses here?” Jimmy looked at the cars zooming past them on the freeway.
    The men began to talk about football. Sandy told Jimmy that in America , football was played differently and the Americans called Scottish football, soccer. For a Glaswegian man, soccer was a passionate subject. Arguments about the two rival teams, the Protestant Rangers and the Catholic Celtics could easily lead to fist fights. Sandy said there were many football teams in the States and religion wasn’t associated with them. He went on to say American football was reserved for “pansies” that needed gear. “They’re afraid they’ll get hurt, poor, wee lassies,” he added, laughing.
    June enjoyed herself looking at all the new scenery passing by and listening to the men talk. She liked seeing her father relaxed. Everything seemed better when he laughed. He told Sandy the story about when Peter ’s wife, Janet, gave birth. The doctor, who was also a Ranger’s player, had rushed from his game to deliver the baby without taking time to change from his soccer uniform. When he arrived at Janet’s bedside, she screamed at him to get away from her. She didn’t want any Protestant touching her body, let alone her baby!
    With tears of laughter running down his face, Sandy choked out between laughs, “Och, away with you. You’re full of it, man!’
    “ I am not! I’m telling you the truth,” Jimmy could hardly talk for laughing. “They had to call in a Catholic doctor. But I never did find out if he was a Celtic fan.”
    The humming of the car and deep laughter of the men finally lulled June to sleep with her head resting on the front seat. When the car stopped, the girls woke up and rubbed the sleep from their eyes. Outside they saw a parade of cars following a bus.
    Jimmy opened a door. “Here we are. Home,” he said happily.
    Eagerly, the girls scrambled from the car to stand in front of a three-story building. Their mother jumped awake at the sound of the girls ’ chattering and stumbled out of the car. Surprised by a car whizzing past, she flattened herself against Sandy’s Chevrolet and watched the continual stream of traffic rushing past.
    “ Careful there!” warned Sandy, holding the largest suitcase under one muscular arm and a smaller one under the other.
    “ It’s an awfully busy street,” said Cathy. Not that it bothered her, since the MacDonalds had lived on the Dumbarton Road thoroughfare, in Glasgow. But she had envisioned they’d live on a wide street with palatial houses and gardens like she saw in the movie “Meet Me in St. Louis,”––one of her favorite images of what life in America would be like. Lining both sides of this busy street were tall apartment buildings with stores underneath. Nothing like the buildings the films had shown.
    “ It is a main street. Called Market,” said Sandy as a streetcar rattled past.
    Jimmy walked over to stand next to her. Smiling, he said, “See up there? That’ll be our home.” The couple leaned their heads back and looked up the tall building to the top windows.
    “ It’s big, clean, and affordable,” Sandy said as he unlocked the front door of the building. “In the flat below is a Polish family. Came over after the war,” he explained as he went in the door. “Up we go!” he called back to the MacDonalds.
    With arms full of suitcases, the men disappeared into the building. The rest of the group followed them.
    Inside June saw a steep wooden staircase that