For Sure (65 page)

“I likes to swim.”

“Yes, dat's good as well. An' yer a shockin' good swimmer to boot.”

“I know.”

. . .

. . .

“Only bein' part of a team's fun, as well. You make a different sort of friend.”

“Wot sort?”

Terry had not expected this last question.

“Well, sports friends, I suppose. Friends fer winnin'.”

“Winnin' wot?”

“Well, winnin' games. Tournaments.”

“Awh.”

Terry felt his son's interest in hockey melting away.

“Can be travellin' friends, too, like when you has to go play a game in some udder town.”

“Awh.”

So that, in the end, all that was left were a few scattered pieces of the jigsaw puzzle's yellow bird.

“Dad, wot're we havin' fer supper?”

“Treehump rolls wid coleslaw Deluxe.”

“Hooray!”

Numerals, equations are the mineral matter of the story, something to dig into. The system of numbering, for its part, confirms nothing less than the existence of a point of no return, no abandon.

“Der's times I gets de feelin' ee's got no idea wot ee's doin' whatsoever. Only I doesn't say nuttin'; I just do wot ee says.”

“Well wot is it ee's askin' you to do, den?”

“To play de notes by de book.”

“Just notes by demselves?”

“'Tis about as excitin' as recitin' de alphabet.”

“De musical alphabet, in udder words . . .”

“You knows yerself.”

. . .

“You can't be callin' dat music.”

“An' does ee tink ee's gonna prove sometin' wid dat?”

“At de back of de room der's a wee black booth. Ee sits folks down in der, an' wires dem up to de brain machine dat's recordin' der reactions.”

“Awh, well now . . . dat's not a bad bit interestin'.”

“Dat's de plan B.”

“An' wot was de plan A, den?”

“I don't know, do I. I wonder if ee even ‘ad one. Unless . . .”

?

. . .

“Unless wot?”

“Naw, ferget it. 'Twas only two ideas I ‘ad dat crossed wires.”

Terry always kept a bit of appetite in reserve.

“Okey-Dokey's gonna be openin' a clothes shop in de lofts.”

“Awh, an' when's dat? Did somebody close down, den?”

“Must be.”

“Most likely de hemp store. I never seen a soul buy anytin' in der, ever.”

swell pie in the fridge

a big scrumptious piece, two, three . . .

female comes, opens

temp'rary difficulty

please do not adjust your set

“Marianne, come'n put on yer panties!”

Once again, the same circus.

“Marianne, come on, I told you . . .”

After the second call, Marianne knew her room to manoeuvre was considerably reduced. This time, she got the idea to brush her teeth.

“Awh, here you are!”

Carmen's anger melted when she saw the little one with a tube of toothpaste in one hand and her toothbrush in the other.

“You wanted to brush yer teeth? Dat's a fine idea. Mum's gonna help you.”

No sooner did Carmen touch the cap of the tube than the child dropped both toothpaste and brush and ran off.

“De wee devil!”

The question remains: if the “things to want” are sincerely wanted, since anyone who really and truly desires something will usually manage to get it. Nothing is out of reach.

“Dad, wot's de name of de saint wot trew de balls of paper into de fire?”

Useful items (kitchen), decorations in good condition, puzzles. Games (Fisher-Price and others) and children's clothing. Adults' clothing. Surplus furniture. Old mattresses (Nazareth House). Second-hand books. Archives (old photos of Dieppe).

For three long seconds, no one moved, not even Marianne. The vase lay in pieces on the floor. The vase. The archetypal vase. Beautiful, ugly. Well, unique anyway. Carmen had dug it up in a garage sale and brought it home, brandishing it like a trophy. The vase.

“Don't ya move, youse two. Understood? Youse stay exactly where youse are.”

Terry was not fooling. Étienne had the presence of mind to climb up on the sofa behind him, to clear the area. He tried to convince Marianne to do likewise, but for once, Marianne did not dare move a muscle. She stood stock still and stared at Terry.

“Dat's OK, Marianne, you can sit down beside Étienne.”

Marianne clambered up beside her brother on the sofa.

“Proper ting, Étienne, you got de right idea. Now, stay der until I tells you to come down. OK? Understood?”

The two children had understood so well that they hardly dared nod their heads. Satisfied, Terry went to get the broom and dustpan in the cupboard.

“Where's de broom got to?”

Étienne remembered that he'd used it to dislodge a mini-car that had gotten stuck under the dresser in his room.

“In me room, Dad!”

“Well wot's it doin' in der?”

Étienne, sensing that he had the option not to reply, chose to turn his attention to Marianne instead.

“Tap tap tap, peck peck peck, roll roll roll, in de air!”

Terry returned with the broom, the dustpan, a plastic bag and a damp cloth. Marianne allowed her brother to distract her.

“Tap tap tap, peck peck peck, roll roll roll, in de air!”

Terry, satisfied that Étienne was being helpful, concentrated on picking up the fragments of the vase.

“You boat saw wot ‘appened, eh? To tell de troot, 'twas an accident. I mean to say, 'twasn't as doh we was too excited or anytin' like dat.

Was Terry trying to convince himself? In the slow sweep of the broom, the bits of glass gently clinked against each other.

“De vase dat Carmen liked so much, on top of dat . . .”

But which he, Terry, had always felt was ugly. He found fragments all the way under the bookshelves. The debris piled up in the dustpan. There was no way it could be glued back together.

“Will we be havin' to say we's sorry, Dad?”

Terry pretended not to hear.

Heart. Piece of heart muscle. One lung. Two lungs. Heart-lung block, single or double. Liver. Heart-liver block. Heart-lung-liver block. Pancreas. Heart-pancreas block. Kidney. Kidney and pancreas. Heart-lung-kidney block. Liver-pancreas-duodenum block. Intestines. Child's digestive system (liver, pancreas, stomach, and small intestine, with or without duodenum, large intestine, kidney). Ovary. Fallopian tube. Testicles. Larynx. Eyes. Thymus. Cells of the adrenal gland. Cells of the human fetus. Sciatic nerve. Bacterial gene. Face.

“Me grandad says der's all sorts of tings in de ground.”

To Chico, that was obvious. Étienne insisted:

“Even diamonds.”

“I knows dat.”

. . .

“Wot else, den?”

Étienne had mainly retained the diamonds; he tried to remember the other things. His gaze fell on the garden.

“Lots of food.”

Again, that was obvious to Chico. His shovel struck a rock.

“Me mum has a diamond.”

To Chico, that was quite possible, since women liked jewelry. His shovel struck the same rock again.

“'Twould be fun if we was to find sometin', eh?”

Charles Darwin, the famous author of
The Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection
, had married his first cousin Emma, granddaughter of Josiah Wedgwood, who was their common grandfather and founder of the celebrated Wedgwood ceramics factory.

“'Tis strange dat der's nuttin in de dictionary about puttin' a feather in yer cap. Seems to me dat's a major expression.”

CHAPTER 10

To write a book is, in a way, to be rid of it.

Julien Gracq,
Entretiens
(Interviews), José Corti, 2002

For the remainder of the day, Étienne waited anxiously for Carmen to get home to hear how his father would explain the disappearance of the vase.

“Will you be tellin' 'er right off when she comes in?”

“No. I tink 'twould be best to 'ave our supper first. Unless she notices on 'er own. An' youse two, mind you don't say a word. Let yer dad handle it.”

Étienne watched his father come and go between the stove and the cupboard, peeling garlic cloves, dipping his fingers into a large jar to take up salt and toss it in the pan.

“Might not bodder 'er all dat much. I mean, she knows accidents can happen.”

And Terry passed the jar of cumin under Étienne's nose before adding some to his mix. Étienne continued:

“Will you be apologizin' right off or at de end?”

“Well, it's no use apologizin' if yer not sincere, now is it?”

That's not how Étienne had come to understand things.

“Dat's not wot you was sayin' de udder time.”

“Awh, no?”

“No . . .”

Obviously, Ann Charters' biography of Jack Kerouac, entitled
Kerouac: A Biography
, a fascinating and important work about the man and America. Published in English in 1973, and in French two years later.

Terry wasn't certain he'd heard right:

“Wot was it you said just den?”

Étienne wasn't sure from what point or what word he should start repeating.

“I told 'er to leave me alone.”

“To leave you alone . . .”

“. . . fer Jesus's sake.”

“Jesus's sake? An' where, pray tell, did you hear such a ting?”

“Antoinette says it a lot.”

Terry was taken aback.

“Well, anyhow, dat's not sometin' we ought to be sayin'.”

“On account of?”

Étienne watched and waited for Terry's answer.

“Well, on account of dat's religious, an' we's not religious, so it don't count.”

The social sciences aspire to make perceptible realities which are not immediately so.

“De cheese shop in de lofts is set to close down.”

“Is dat right? On account of?

“Don't know.”

“Seemed to be workin' fine. Especially since dey bin doin' de caterin'.”

“I knows it.”

“Who was it told you dat den?”

“Anna, at de office. 'Er sister was in de habit of goin' der to buy a special cheese fer her girl who's allergic to sometin' or udder. Dat's de only place she could find it.”

. . .

. . .

“Dat's strange, all de same, on account of dey looked terrible busy last week when I's der. Dey was even puttin' up de help wanted poster.”

“Awh?”

. . .

“You didn't tink to apply?”

. . .

. . .

“Wouldn't 'ave done me much good, would it . . . seein' as dey's all set to close.”

Terry dreams that he has to fetch something he left in the apartment where he used to live with Carmen and Étienne before their little family moved to the lofts. The young couple who now occupy the old apartment receives Terry warmly. When, for some reason, Terry has to go back a second time, the couple is just as understanding. The third time however, the tenants make no effort to hide their exasperation, and turn Terry away rudely. Back in the street, Terry sees a child get run over by a vehicle. The car has no door on the front passenger's side, and the child slides quite naturally into the seat. The little one seems unhurt, and Terry realizes that the accident is in fact a kidnapping.

“From wot I can figure, it takes someone who knows der notes perfectly . . .”

“Dat's why I was suggestin' ee use recordings. Only ee didn't want to. Had to be played live, an' all de time by de same person.”

“On account of?”

“Ee said it could 'ave been a recordin' if 'twere a real song, only on account of 'twas only notes by demselves, had to come from somebody playin' dem right der on de spot.”

“G'wan wid you!”

“An' dat's why it took somebody who wasn't about to get fed up an' walk out on de job in de middle.”

Years later, Étienne admitted the disappointment he experienced that evening when Carmen failed to notice the disappearance of the vase.

“Me, it's odd, I always like a movie dat begins wid a funeral. I mean I like dose films all de way troo to the end.”

It's quite possible that very few people find opposites interesting. Judging from the way the spine cracked when I opened it, the thesis entitled
Concerning the Role of Opposites in the Genre of the Novel
had probably never left its place on a shelf in the Champlain Library of the Université de Moncton.

Étienne reconsidered the display before him.

“Did you not understand wot I meant?”

Étienne nodded, but Terry could see that something still wasn't clear.

“Well, wot's de problem den?”

Étienne couldn't believe that something as ordinary as a chocolate bar had had to be invented.

“Well, why den?”

“Why dey was inventin' it? On account of it didn't exist afore den, I suppose.”

Étienne was no less mystified.

“Before who?”

“Well, before. Like way back in de olden times.”

“Before Grandad an' Granny?”

“Sure, you could say dat.”

Then it was Terry's turn to pay for his purchases.

It seems that the custom of putting a feather in one's hat caused the disappearance of a number of species of birds.

Even back in the van, Étienne couldn't shake the idea that someone had had to invent the chocolate bar.

“Well, wot was it dey had to invent?”

Terry lowered the volume on the radio, and looked at his son in the rear-view mirror:

“Wot?”

“Wot was it dey had to invent?”

“Well, I don't know do I? Maybe de size of de wee platters dat gives the bar its shape. An' de wee papers to wrap 'er in. An, de very idea dat somebody might be wantin' to eat a chocolate
snac
.*

Étienne couldn't imagine chocolate being eaten any other way but a little at a time.

“On account of before dat, dey was eatin' platefuls of it?”

Terry burst out laughing.

“Naw, I doesn't tink so! Most likely, dey was eatin' chocolate cakes an' cookies. I don't know if der was even boxes o' chocolates like we's got nowadays.”

This seemed to satisfy Étienne. Terry turned up the volume on the radio again.

“Dad, did dey have to invent everytin' den?”

Terry turned down the volume on the radio, and looked at his son in the rear-view mirror:

“Wot was dat?”

Étienne repeated his question. Terry let his gaze sweep quickly over everything that existed around them before replying.

“Far as I can tell, I'd say yer right. Everytin' aside from de fields an' de trees an' de animals an' de water an' dat.”

“Do you mean nature?”

“Yeah, nature, dat was de word I's lookin' fer.”

Terry glanced back at Étienne again:

“You knows yerself, boy. Nature. You got all de right words.”

Étienne smiled, both proud and a little embarassed. Terry would not have traded that smile for anything in the world.

Examination question for Literary Translation course (TRAD 2507): based on excerpts from Giono's and Jaworski's translations of Melville's
Moby-Dick
, define the approach privileged by each of the translators, and demonstrate how both these translations unnecessarily domesticate this American masterpiece for a French audience.

Medical malapropism: what did the doctor have to neigh (say) today?

Terry managed to weave through the traffic and turn left at the busy crosssroads.

“Wot was we sayin'? Awh, yeah, nature. I suppose everytin' we sees aside from nature's wot was invented.”

Étienne was looking out the window. Their van was surrounded by other vehicules, stores, restaurants, merchandise of all sorts.

“Fer instance, you sees de McDonald's over der? Little by little, humans was finding in nature wot dey needed to invent bricks an' plastic an' nails an' food an' paper, all wot you'll find in de McDonald's.

Étienne understood.

“An' den some fellow had to be inventin' de very idea of McDonald's, de idea of sellin' little hamburgers, not too expensive, an' cookies wot look like animals, wid a clown an' a game room in de restaurant, so dat dey've got a place where parents don't mind bringin' der kids. Sometimes, 'tis more an idea dat dey's inventin'. Dat's wot we calls a concept.

There was still something that Étienne did not understand:

“Well den', who is it invented nature?”

Terry looked back at his son in the rear-view mirror.

“Awh, well now, dat's a terrible big question.”

He stopped at yet another red light.

“Some folks'd tell you dat was God, an' de whole ting took 'im naught but a week. Udders'll say it happened all by itself, after a shockin' big explosion in de middle o' de stars an' de universe. Dey calls dat de Big Bang. An' den der's udders dat say it happened bit by bit, an' it took hundreds of millions of years.”

And Terry fell silent, wondering if a child could deal with such realities.

“Well den, who was it invented chewing gum?”

Sylvia will not change her mind about religion.

“Wot 'appens when you makes a mistake? Must muddle 'is data sometin' fierce . . .”

“I don't know do I. I never makes a mistake.”

“Ya, right.”

. . .

“G'wan wid ya, yer not serious?”

. . .

“Well how does ya manage to be rememberin' all dose notes den?”

“'Tisn't so hard as all dat. Der's a system. Once you understands it, well . . .”

“Still. Der's de fingers. Yer head may know, but de fingers, dey can fudge it, do a physical Freudian slip.”

“Never happened to me . . .”

“G'wan, yer pullin' me leg . . .”

“I swears to God.”

(Scribbled in a hurry, seemingly.) I likes white when it's a colour. Étienne three years nine months.

That day, Chico and Étienne had been helping Zed empty the big shed in which residents accumulated all the stuff that might be useful, but no one wanted. Zed had promised them a sidetrip to the convenience store as a reward.

“Hold on der, Chico, only two tings.”

Chico did not protest. He renounced the green licorice laces, returned the can of sparkling water to its place, and kept the bag of chips and the chocolate bar.

“Wot're you takin' den?”

Étienne hadn't chosen anything as yet, but he knew he wanted a chocolate bar, a can of pop and an ice-cream sandwich.

“Awh, yes! Gum!”

Chico selected a pack of multicolour gumballs, then hesitated between the chocolate and the chips. Finally, he put them both back and opted instead for a small Vachon cake coated in coconut and the gumballs.

“Alright now, 'ave youse made up yer minds?”

Zed had been following the boys' machinations with amusement.

“Étienne?”

“Yes.”

In the end, Étienne placed a blue freezie and a bag of ketchup flavoured chips on the counter.

“OK, dat's it den . . .”

Zed paid for everything, including a chocolate bar for himself, and the three returned to the truck.

“I'll give ya a gum, if you gives me some chips.”

Étienne was generally amenable to this sort of exchange. Sucking on his freezie, he handed the air filled bag to Chico, who popped it open with a single blow, and without crushing the chips.

(
Floc
)

A
tour de force
. Impressed, Zed tousled Chico's hair affectionately.

As for
Concerning Yellow
, that would lend too much importance to yellow. Any colour would have done just as well. Or almost. The impression of constant repetition.

“In the beginnin', ee was workin' wid de same notes. Later on, ee started mixin' dem up.”

“Was dat more like music den?”

“Let's say der was a wee bit more tension.”

“Atwixt you an' 'im?”

“Naw, between de notes.”

!