For Sure (71 page)

Terry could see his friend's point; he even agreed with him, up to a point.”

“I'll tell 'er afore long. Promise.”

Trout bite because they're hungry. Salmon, well, they don't eat flies. They bite because the fly irritates them.

“So, I'd put all the fish in the tub, and every fifteen minutes I'd go and check if they were still swimming.”

. . .

“Dey swam for quite a while. I'd been careful to use salt water. Only I'd forgotten the cat.”

Chico raised his head, looked at Catherine, who continued:

“Each time I went back, seemed to me there were fewer than I expected, only I wasn't sure. The cat was probably eating them one at a time, only I wasn't
smart
enough to see it.”

Her lapse into English with the word
smart
made Chico smile.

“Over that way, there's another bridge, maybe two. Iron bridges. Then at the end, she empties into Shediac Bay, with Grande-Digue on one shore and Shediac on the other.”

. . .

. . .

. . .

“The water level's started to come down.”

Then, without warning, Catherine stretched gracefully and slipped gently into the water.

Terry realized that he liked having a secret in reserve.

Toward four o'clock in the afternoon, Carmen was happy to sit down by herself, to enjoy her favourite dessert and a coffee:

“Have you got any mocha cake left?”

It wasn't the first time that, in spite of everything, her little family had been at the heart of her day off. How could it be otherwise? Mimi and she might complain about the ups and downs of their conjugal and family lives, the truth was that Terry, Étienne, and Marianne's happiness was what mattered most to her, as her visit to the travel agent amply demonstrated. In any case, Terry too did his best for them, not to mention she was now convinced that he was organizing a surprise party for her 36th birthday. Leafing through the latest issue of
Elle
magazine, Carmen had the feeling she was biding her time before going home to spend a quiet Friday evening with Terry and the kids.

Examination question for Ancient French (FRAN 1755): Demonstrate by means of multiple examples that Pascal Poirier is right to argue in his
Glossaire acadien
that it was, once again, the typesetters who fiddled with the word for bucket “
siau
” to make it “
seau.
”

By late afternoon, Zed's introduction to the world of the stock market was transported to the Babar.

“Say a company's been around fer a hundred years . . . somewhere along de line, dey had to be doin' sometin' a wee bit clever to last dat long. Like, folks had to be wantin' to keep on workin' der, wot means dey's earnin' a decent wage, 'tisn't too dangerous, de bosses are nice enough, tings like dat.”

Josse arrived in mid-conversation:

“Anudder beer, boys?”

Terry pushed aside the Molson he'd ordered early:

“Can you bring me sometin' dat makes sense . . . a Keith's.”

Josse approved:

“I tawt 'twas weird you drinkin' Molson's. Aside from Québécois, I can't tink who drinks dat.”

“I figured I'd test it.”

But Josse was too busy to go into the details.

“How 'bout you, Zed?”

“Anudder Sleeman.”

Once Josse had gone, Terry explained:

“I was after tinkin' o' buyin' some Molson's shares, only I just now changed me mind. On account of I has to like de product, I gotta be some way's proud o' wot de company's doin'.”

“Me, I was tinkin' maybe Canadian Tire . . .”

“Now dat's a good example. Der's no reason to tink Canadian Tire's gonna be goin' out o' business anytime soon, so once you've bought in, you checks like once a week, only to be sure der's nuttin' funny goin' on. Sometimes you gets to feelin' sometin's goin' on. Like when a company's makin' big changes. Let's say, I don't know, maybe Canadian Tire decides to start buildin' churches.”

Zed burst out laughing.

“Doesn't mean 'tis a bad ting, mind you, only you has to ask yerself why.”

In
Don Giovanni
, Mozart more or less writes himself onto the stage by having excerpts from operas in vogue at the time, including his
The Marriage of Figaro
, played during a feast being prepared by the celebrated protagonist. In similar fashion, the character France Daigle once saw Carmen in a café leafing through an issue of
Elle
magazine.

Josse returned with Terry and Zed's order:

“Where's Bernie got to dese days? Been a dog's age since I seen 'im.”

“Ee's workin' in Grand Manan.”

What's ee at over der?”

“Salmon tanks. A great big contract. Dey doesn't come 'ome every weekend, takes too long. Dey'd radder put in de time workin', an' finish up sooner.”

And once Josse was gone:

“Well, der might still be some money in de fish business after all.”

To adhere (or not to adhere) to something. To a theory, for example. The notion of adherence. Of adherences. Something that sticks, that irritates. What do I mean, exactly? I don't know. To not always know where something is going to end up, though you take pains to imagine (take pains, take pain). Yes, at times, I'm pained, the idea pains me. To save (again this notion of insufficiency, of loss) or to spare (i.e., to handle with care, caringly, with skill) time and worry, I take the gamble of agreeing with what I'll end up doing, saying, writing. I endorse in advance what will come. A writer's religion.

It may have been the change in routine — eating supper in his pyjamas? — that made Étienne forget the shattered vase. Or was it the accident of the vase that had subliminally modifed the experience of the bath, so that before getting in, Étienne had bent over, examined his toenails carefully, and shouted out to his father in the kitchen:

“Takes a long time, don't it Dad?”

CHAPTER 11

It is because the world is not
done
that literature is possible.

Roland Barthes,
“Kafka's Reply”,
France-Observateur,
1960

Terry didn't understand:

“Only 'tis written Tuck Tape in big black letters on de roll! Luh . . .”

Carmen knew it all too well, except that:

“I'm only saying, that's not what the hardware folks call it. To them, 'tis tek tape.”

Examining the package more closely, Terry read the more or less readable fine print on the inside of the roll of tape.

“Aha! De company's called Canadian Technical Tape. Dat must be de reason dey's callin' it tek tape.”

He showed Carmen the roll, pointed to the fine print. Carmen read it, only because it was easier to read it than not to read it, and raised her eyebrows:

“What's certain is that there's not a whole lot of logic in their system.”

Along with the fishing hook, other simple machines include the inclined plane, the wedge, the lever, the winch, and the wheel.

“Me, I'll quit de day someone uses the adapted English word
buyé
to tell me they bought something.”

“You'll never quit.”

. . .

goatee, foldaway, topinambour, turpitude, butcher's bill, justaucorps, serpentine, parapet.

Bent over, perfectly still and quiet, Chico and Catherine scanned the river bottom, waiting.

“'Tisn't easy, but it's possible.”

Chico wanted very badly to succeed.

“Hide your hand a little deeper in the sand, but without stirring it up, so the water stays clear.”

The minnows came and went without the slightest hint of stopping. Great patience was required.

“Der ticklin' me toes.”

“Me too. It's as though they were nibbling at me.”

After another little while, Catherine gave it a try, yanking her hand suddenly up and out of the water. Chico watched the water and mud drip until there was nothing left, and no fish. They waited a few minutes for the water to clear and for the river bottom to reappear before beginning again.

“One day, I caught three.”

On his first try, Chico, too, failed to catch a black sucker. Fortunately, it was such a beautiful day that they didn't mind waiting for the water to clarify, and the schools of fish to return.

“Are de wee ones easier to catch dan de big ones?”

“I don't think so.”

. . .

“Most folks called them
minnows
when I was a girl, but we called them barbels.”

. . .

. . .

“Me grandad used to say dat, too.”

“Is that right?”

“Ee'd say: ‘Haul yer ass in 'ere, ya bottom feedin' barbel!”

Chico's imitation of his grandfather amused Catherine, but the boy's past was no laughing matter.

“Hun! That doesn't sound very nice . . .”

Chico confirmed her impression:

“Sometimes, ee had a sharp tongue.”

. . .

“Ee's dead now.”

“I know.”

A long second passed.

“'Twas me dad killed 'im.”

“I know.”

Catherine didn't want to say too much, preferring to let Chico tell his story his way.

“If I'd'a bin der, I might 'ave bin able to stop 'im . . .”

“You think so?”

Catherine had answered calmly, but she was shaken to hear Chico talk so candidly about such a shattering event.

“One time, I stopped dem. Granny was bawlin', so I startin' in yellin'.”

. . .

“When me dad saw me, ee trew de knife down an' run off.”

Catherine imagined the scene, and felt herself trapped between the awkwardness of the moment and her own emotions. But Chico did not give her time to react:

“'Ere dey come!”

In the U.S.A., Chapter 11 is the equivalent of a company declaring bankruptcy. Personal bankruptcies are relegated to Chapter 7.

“How come you's puttin' dat piece of metal in de hole o' dat udder piece o' metal, Grandad?”

“On account of dat's de way we fools nature, so de porch'll be keepin' straight.”

“I knows nature.”

“Awh, do ya now?”

“Yes. Nature, dat's everytin' dat we can't be inventin'.”

The old man was impressed:

“Yah, I suppose dat's one way you could be sayin' it.”

And to prolong the conversation a little, the grandfather added:

“I wonders wot de bronze fly would say.”

“Who's fly, Grandad?”

“De bronze fly. You doesn't know de bronze fly?”

The shards of shattered vase lie at the bottom of the pail containing broken glass, not to be mixed in with other recyclable trash, so as not to injure the sorters.

With lightning speed, Chico closed his hand and drew his arm out of the water. When he opened his fingers, a minnow wiggled twice and fell back into the water. Catherine was amazed.

“You got one!”

Still stunned by the surprise, Chico gazed at his open hand where the minnow had appeared and then disappeared.

“You caught one! That's so rare!”

Chico liked the fact that he'd succeeded in doing something rare.

Clumsily scribbled on a page of Terry's notebook:

Yellow Breton

95 euros

19 × 32

susanjonesart.com

Paypal

“Houses, houses, houses. Lovely houses, ugly houses, a house where people're dyin' of AIDS, even doh dey don't look sick, another house where I's dyin' of AIDS meself an' I'm not really sick at all. Sidaware. Another house, small, all alone in a parking lot. Houses along the road. Houses you have to climb ladders to get into. Houses with cellars, houses without cellars. Houses with doors too small for me to get in. Houses, houses, houses.

“Wot do you mean by sidaware?”

“I don't know. It just seemed to fit der. Have you ever heard that word?”

“No.”

“Me neither. Could be I just invented it.”

Odd fact, the helical thread of screws was invented long before the screw. In fact, almost 4,000 years separate the invention of the thread and its application to the screw.

Before heading back, Catherine suggested they pick some blueberries he could take to his granny.

“You says granny, too?”

“Sure. 'Round here, we said granny.”

Leaving the path, they discovered a clearing where blueberries were large and abundant. Their harvesting went quickly.

“Are you gonna be marryin' Zed, den?”

The question made Catherine smile.

“I don't know. He's awfully nice . . .”

“Does you tink ee's good lookin'?”

Catherine couldn't help but laugh:

“Yes!”

. . .

. . .

. . .

“What do you think — should I marry him?”

“Yes.”

wee girl saw nothing

neither mean games nor fighting

eyes nose mouth down on the ground

snowman on every side

going, gone, Patti? Patti?

“Der's sometin' goin' on wid de lofts.”

“Wot're you on about?”

“Lionel an' Sylvia were in to see Zed yesterday in de afternoon. Looked right serious.”

“Dat's it?”

“I don't know, I's got a queer feeling.”

. . .

“Dey's sayin' ee lost a whole lot o' money in 'is companies overseas.”

“Been, wot, ten years folks bin sayin' dat?”

“Der's sometin' goin' on, dat's all I's sayin'.”

In the domain of torsion, the fastener is said to be female when the thread is inside the structure, as in the common nut. The fastener is said to be male when the thread is external to the structure, for example in the basic screw. Experience leads one to conclude that our complex world would not have held together for 10 seconds without the sexualization of this elementary machine.

“Dad, wot're you plannin' on doin' wid dose old pennies?”

“Don't know yet. Why's dat?”

Étienne shrugged his shoulders.

“Yer tinkin' you'd like to 'ave dem fer yer collections; is dat it?”

Étienne nodded.

Terry stretched out his arm, grabbed hold of the glass jar on the topmost of the corner shelves.

“Der you go. A gift.”

Étienne jumped for joy.

“Now don't go wastin' dem on candies at de store. When I has a bit o' time, I'll tell you wot's special 'bout dem dat makes dem wort' keepin'. An' we'll separate out dem dat're real special from dose dat're not all dat special. So as to make sure you don't go spendin' dose dat're really wort' keepin'.”

But Étienne was already in his room putting his new acquisition in his drawer of treasures.

“Did ya 'ear wot I's sayin'?”

“Yes, Dad.”

Examination question for Machine Design II course (GMEC 4223): design a production line in which at least one of the components is responsible for detecting any problems on said line. Also integrate mechanisms designed to remedy the different categories of problems (ref: Glassnolt scale of errors) and explain why these subtle errors must absolutely be avoided (ref: Voltgass scale of errors).

“You never eat any yourself?”

“Sometimes I bring some home, but most of the time I put them back. The hook goes in just on the corner of the lip, where the flesh is pretty resistant, so it doesn't do much damage.”

. . .

“The most important thing is not to damage the ears, not to make them bleed. Sometimes you have to use pliers, if the hook is in too deep.”

. . .

“To release it, you hold the trout under the water in both your hands, in the direction of the current, and wait until it recovers. When she starts to move, you know she's ready.”

. . .

“The releasing is as moving as the catching. It's a powerful feeling to be in contact with the trout at that instant.”

On February 25, 1980, on rue des Écoles in Paris, a van struck the critic, semiologist and professor Roland Barthes, who died a month later of his injuries. He was 65 years old.

“Me, 'twas every time I goes to tee off. Der was all de time a tree or a shockin' big branch in me way. I had no way to take any kind o' swing, dat tree was all de time in my way.”

“Me, 'tis when I goes to plant de tee! I couldn't get 'er in de ground! I's after pushin' down on 'er, over 'ere and der, and den over a ways off, only dat damn ting wouldn't go in. Can't tell ya 'ow many times I's 'avin' dat dream!”

At times you need a rule(r).

Terry was especially proud of his gratin Dauphinois, and its perfect crust, exactly like the one he'd eaten in Lyon.

“Hey! Me recipe's disappeared! She were right 'ere only a minute ago!”

Terry and Étienne had seen Marianne commit her larceny, but they wanted to humour her.

“Étienne, did you take me recipe, boy?”

“Wot recipe?”

“Me recipe fer gratin Dauphinois! I 'ad it right eer under me nose not ten seconds ago!

Hiding behind the cupboard and out of Terry's sight, Marianne was giggling. Étienne, who could see her plainly, could also tell that she'd soon be needing to urinate.

“Maybe it fell on de floor.”

Terry shuffled a few things on the counter to pretend he was searching. Marianne was ecstatic.

“De page was right der on de corner o' de table!”

Terry pretended to look some more, opened and closed several drawers and cupboard doors.

“An' where's Marianne, I wonder?”

Étienne played innocent:

“Well, I don't know, do I, Dad.”

Terry went to look for her in her bedroom.

“Marianne?”

By now she had put both plump little hands over her mouth to smother the laughter that was coming out of her eyes.

Simple tactic modelled on simple machines: to keep mum.

Zed asked Chico and Catherine how they'd spent the day.

“Chico had never seen a covered bridge, so I took him to see one.”

“Is dat right? Where?”

“By the Weisner.”

Zed was not so easily fooled:

“An' dat's wot's got de boat of you laughin'?”

Now Chico and Catherine openly flaunted their complicity.

“We're not laughing. We're just in a good mood.”

“I caught a barbel wid me hands!”

“Wow!”

“Only ee fell back in de water.”

“Still! Dat's terrible hard to catch a fish wid yer hands! 'Ow did you manage dat?”