The tale of the Spud family as they travel across the vast wilderness of London towards their idyllic new home in the east, narrated by the youngest daughter Luka Spud.
I do love the prairie this time of year, all meadow green and cornflower blue. Time for the animals to git fat after the long hard winter, everyone just wishin' and hopin' for better times to come. The air is full of a kinda promise, you know, every little thing so fresh and clean. Even Pa seems happy, he don't seem to be twitchin' as much as he did in Winter, 'tho sometimes he gives one of the horses a beatin', yellin' 'bout how they ain't trackin' back and all, Ma just says thats Pa bein' Pa and how he ain't happy if he ain't got nuthin' to twitch about. Just yesterday he told my brother Jermaine to chop some wood, and when Jermaine said he couldn't find the axe, Pa plumb flew into a rage and started into whoppin' him with his belt and a yellin,
"Tax, I'll give you tax",
Ma calmed him down and told us all that these were trying times for poor Pa, what with the move an' everythin', and how nobody was to mention the 'tax' word ever again.
Later that night we gathered 'round the fire and Pa played the fiddle and everyone was happy again. Ma hugged me close and said,
"Ain't nobody can fiddle like your Pa".
Later we all fell asleep under that big prairie moon, full of hope and thoughts of the promised land to come.
Early next mornin' Pa took me up to the rocks overlookin' the camp, and as we looked down to the prairie below, we could see hordes of Indians all painted up red and white, ridin' hard towards us.
Pa said they was Woolwich Apaches, the most blood thirsty and cruel savages, and how as long as we were here, we'd be forever in their shadow.
We fair hightailed it back to camp, hitched up the wagons and got movin' east toward the sun.
We rode hard all day and pitched up at sunset. We'd used up the last of the cornmeal and Pa had to slaughter a couple of the old horses, King and Woodie, so we all had a fine supper.
Ma said how the old horses would be sorely missed, but Pa just said they was old and weren't doin' no work anymore on account of them always havin' some ailment or another.
Lucky we found an old horse the Woolwich Apache had abandoned even though he seemed in fine health,if a little sulky. We named him Willie, and Pa turned him out with the other horses and soon he was frollickin' merrily with Daisy and Ned and Blossom and Assou-Ekotto like as how he always belonged to us.
The damned Apache struck at dawn. They swept into our camp a hollerin' their bloody war cries "50 Years!" and "One team in London!", we tried to shoot as many as we could but they was just too damned quick. Luckily at the height of the battle some of them started to leave, and soon they all drifted away leavin' us to lick our wounds.
Ma said how we should have circled the wagons, but Pa said he was sick of them always runnin' rings 'round us. Then Jermaine said as how our security was a bit 'lax' and I just handed Pa his belt!
Late mornin' we finally made it to the promised land and what a sight it was all spread out in the valley below, all golden in the mornin' sun. Ma said it was a mite peculiar the houses were so far away from the meadow and how you'd need binoculars to see the livestock, but Pa said the railroad had said they was goin' to fix all that, and with that we rode hard down to that valley below.
Afternoon and Pa was in a rage, turned out the railroad already promised the land to someone else and we'd come all this way fer nuthin'. I think the other family was blacksmiths or farriers or somethin' on account of Pa cussin' about hammers and irons and the like, but no doubt we was all sore and wonderin' what to do next.
In the evenin' a posse rode up and the Sheriff took away poor Pa. Last we saw of him they was draggin' him off and he was cussin and a screamin' 'bout how they was '"ungrateful bastards", and how he'd "won 'em the FA Cup for fuck sake".
Poor Ma gathered up the clan and we all headed back they way we came, just a hopin' those damn Apaches ain't goin' to be layin' in wait for us and we're goin' to end the year empty handed again!