“I kicked de can twice!”
“Twice! You musta bin pretty clever hidin’, eh?”
“Yes, an’ I was runnin’ fast.”
His mouth stained with orangeade, Étienne began to rummage through his bag of surprises.
“Was der a lot o’ people?”
The boy nodded while he reached down to the bottom of his bag.
“Was der girls der, or mostly boys?”
“Der was a whole lot of folks, and uncles an’ aunties.”
Terry continued to probe for an opening:
“An’ girl cousins?”
Étienne didn’t know. Terry looked for another way in:
“Wot’ve you got in yer bag, den?”
Étienne pulled out candy, a mini-car and a skipping rope.
“A skippin’ rope! In my day, ’twas de girls wot played wid skipping ropes.”
Étienne registered the remark as information, and began to unwrap a giant pink bubble gum:
“Kick-de-can’s de best kind of game.”
“Yes, I liked it as well . . .”
1578.125.4
Sexuality
To obtain a straight edge, line up the paper to a full line (metric measurements) or a dotted line (American measurement). Place the paper to be cut against the ruler at the top of the tray and against the paper guide to the left. To cut an oblique of 30, 45, or 60 degrees, place the paper along the corresponding diagonals. Paper cutting requires caution: do not place your fingers too close to the blade while you are doing precision cutting. If the blade creases the paper instead of cutting it, tighten the screw at the head of the pivot rod located under the carriage. Beware! Do not put your fingers past the finger guard. Keep the handle down and the blade latch locked when the guillotine paper cutter is not in use, or when transporting. Do not grease the blade. Do not remove the blade guard. Do not put your hand or fingers under the blade to hold the paper cutter when transporting. Keep away from children. The 10-year limited warranty does not cover a product damaged by misuse or overuse.
1579.111.8
Tools
Terry stopped in front of the veteran to buy some plastic poppies. He explained to Étienne:
“This man ’ere was in de war. See ’is medals? Dat’s on account of ee was brave an’ ee fought fer us.”
Proud that a young man would take the time to explain such a thing to a child, the veteran, wanting to do his part, pinned the poppy on Étienne’s jacket himself.
“There! Now you’ll be a little soldier for us old-timers.”
Étienne couldn’t see how the poppy made of him a soldier, and didn’t think to say thank you. Terry reminded him:
“Aren’t you gonna say thank you?”
“Thank you.”
“Yer welcome. That’s a right fine jacket you’ve got. Is it fer yer baseball team?”
Étienne had not chosen the jacket he was wearing. Carmen had pulled it out of the cupboard one day and he’d simply put it on without protesting.
. . .
“Ee’s not in a mood fer talkin’ today . . .”
Terry was about to agree with the veteran when Étienne’s tongue suddenly loosened:
“War wid real guns?”
“Real, fer sure!”
“On account of?”
1580.88.5
Freedom
“On account of? Because ’twas necessary. Der was some bad people an’ we had to be rid o’ dem. War’s not nice, only we had to defend our freedom.”
Étienne retained the word freedom, and asked no further questions.
True or false: Diamonds like the cold.
1581.116.11
True or False
Terry had the feeling the day would never end. Nevertheless, he launched into the story of Pépée.
“Dis ’ere story happened in France in de days of de hippies. I already told you ’bout de hippies, do you remember?”
Étienne drew his hand out from under his pillow and flashed the peace sign, which made Terry laugh.
“Exactly! So, der was dis couple — dey were a fellow and ’is wife — who was strollin’ along when, all of sudden out o’ de blue, dey come upon a man who had dese wee monkeys, like five or six wee monkeys playin’ togedder, an’ seems dey was a pretty sight to see, an’ comical as well. When de woman saw dem, well, right off she wants one. Well, seems de man, ee didn’t really care for dem. Only de woman, ’twas like she couldn’t go on livin’ if she didn’t ’ave one o’ dose little monkeys. So, in de end, de man says alright, on account of he loved ’is wife an’ all . . .”
Étienne smiled, as though he already had a vast experience in love.
“So den dey hauled one o’ de little monkeys home wid dem. At de start, ee was cute an’ comical an’ everytin’ was fine. Only de monkey, ee started growin’ and getting’ big, an’ den ee wasn’t a wee little monkey anymore at all! Ee turned out to be a shockin’ big, tall monkey, an’ terrible strong as well. Well, de woman in particular, but de man a wee bit too, livin’ wid de monkey all dat time, dey got used to ’im, same as if he were a cat or a dog. An’ you knows ’ow easy ’tis to spoil a creature you loves . . . So de big, tall monkey became terrible spoiled, an’ wrangle-gangle: ee’s climbin’ over everytin’, jumpin’ an’ doin’ flips anytime an’ anyplace ee felt de urge. An’ wid his hands almost like ours, ee’s grabbin’ hold o’ tings and pullin’ dem off, or ee drags ’is arm off de tablecloth an’ brings de whole supper down on de floor . . . all tings like dat.”
The situation as Étienne imagined it made him laugh, but at the same time he knew this story wasn’t going to be all rosy.
“Well den, dat monkey got to be a terrible misery. Ee was wantin’ der attention all de time, an’ doin’ anytin’ to get it. Especially when de couple was havin’ guests over. Fer instance, radder dan shakin’ der hand like yer supposed to, ee’d grab hold of de visitor’s hand an’ give it an awful twist. An’ ee’d drash de chair out from under dem, ee’d eat right out o’ der plate, slobber all o’er dem, walk on de table, climb de lamps, trow tings, wotever you can tink of, dat monkey was doin’ it.”
Étienne was beginning to look stressed.
“An’ it kept on like dat fer years. Let’s say five or six years. De fellow kept on sayin’ dey ought to be getting’ rid o’ dat monkey, only de wife wouldn’t hear of it, or else it got to be de reverse, I doesn’t recall fer certain. Whichever, one ting’s fer sure, der got to be some terrible bickerin’ in dat house. Most likely dey had udder reasons to be bickerin’, only Pépée wasn’t helpin, dat’s fer sure. Oh, dat’s true, I ’aven’t told you de monkey’s name yet, ’ave I? Pépée. Wid an extra e on de end. Dat’s wot dey called ’im, on account of de monkey was a female monkey, actually.”
Étienne nodded, understanding.
“Well den, Pépée got so crazy dat nobody was wantin’ to visit wid dose folks. De whole house was a reeraw. Pépée was even takin’ apart de roof, so dat sometimes ’twas rainin’ in de house. I suppose de roofs in dat country’re easier to take apart dan dey are ’round ’ere, only I can’t say fer a fact. Anyhow, it only goes to show how strong Pépée was.”
Again Étienne nodded.
“By den, de man was pretty much fed up wid all o’ Pépée’s mess. Sometimes he was out walkin’, he didn’t want to be comin’ ’ome, imagine dat! Some folks was even sayin’ dat ee was startin’ to tink ’is wife was as daft as de monkey. One time, ee stayed away fer two whole weeks, on account of ee couldn’t stand it no longer.”
“Where did ee go, den?”
“Well, same place you or I’d go. A friend’s place. ’Is best pal’s. Right?”
Étienne smiled. Terry continued:
“De wife was phonin’ an’ cryin’ fer ’im to come on home, only ee didn’t want to, did ee. So, to
make ’im come home, she told ’im dat if ee didn’t come ’ome, she’s gonna murder Pépée.”
!
“Ask me, she ought to ’ave said de opposite: dat she’d kill Pépée if he was agreein’ to come home. Well, like I’s sayin’, she was startin’ to get a wee bit rimmed ’erself by den, I figure. Anyhow, de fellow didn’t believe ’er, an’ ee didn’t go back ’ome. So de wife, she asked de neighbour to come over an’ kill Pépée, an’ a couple udder creatures while der at it, a pig an’ a dog, I tink. On account of dey had udder animals as well.”
Rather than letting his son languish in suspense, Terry answered the question written all over the boy’s face.
“So, yes, de neighbour comes round wid a rifle an’ bang, bang, bang, ee kills Pépée, ee kills de pig, an’ ee kills de udder creature, probably a dog. Well, when de husband of de woman heard dat — somebody rang ’im up it seems — ee almost went roary-eyed ’imself. Ee couldn’t believe it! So off ee goes. Ee gets ’ome right de same time dey’s gettin’ ready to muck ’is wife off to a sort of hospital. Ee buries Pépée an’ de two udder creatures, an’ seems ee took it hard, even doh all dat time, ’twas as doh ee didn’t care all dat much fer Pépée.”
Étienne was at a loss.
“Well, in de end, can you guess wot ee did wid all dat?”
?
“Ee made a song. A song dat’s called Pépée. Just dat. Pépée.”
“Have you ever heard it?”
“Awh yes. We has it ’ere. We can listen to it tomorrow, if you like.”
Yes, Étienne wanted to hear it. His eyelids heavy in spite of the slightly sordid nature of the story, he turned in his bed while Terry tucked him in.
“G’night, boy.”
“G’night, Pépée.”
Terry was stunned for a moment, unsure if the boy had said it on purpose or if it was a slip of the tongue, from Papa to Pépée. He would probably never know.
1582.37.12
Animal Tales
Not to have gone far enough in modifying the language.
1583.104.6
Worries
“Der’s some who say you ought to wait until dey bring it up demselves. Dat’s ’ow you know der ready.”
“I only wanted to tell ’im it’s OK, so ee doesn’t worry ’bout it, if ever.”
“Yes, I understand. Now ee’ll know . . . if ee didn’t already.”
. . .
. . .
. . .
“Regardless, sometimes I ask meself if you can really call it normal.”
“Wot? Being gay?”
Terry changed the channel, stopped on images of Asia.
“I don’t think normal is the right word.”
“Wot would be de right one den? Not preference, I hope.”
Terry surfed past a few more channels. No, Carmen did not particularly like the word preference to describe homosexuality:
“No. Preference sounds as though dey ’ave a choice, only dey keep tellin’ us dat dey didn’t choose to be that way themselves.”
“Exactly.”
Carmen cuddled closer to Terry’s bare chest.
“I love you, you know dat. Yer not a bad bit smart . . .”
Terry felt flattered but decided, for once, to feign detachment.
“Whatever.”
Carmen found him irresistable, grabbed the remote, made the world disappear, and slid beneath her man.
1584.125.7
Sexuality
CHAPTER 12
We write because we do not know what we want to say. Writing reveals it to us.
1585.144.12
Epigraphs
J. M. Coetzee,
(interview), LIRE, May 2007
“So do you, like know all dat’s gonna ’appen wid us?”
It had been a long time since I’d sat down with Terry to have a bit of a chat.
“Not really.”
“G’wan! You must know . . .”
In fact, I really didn’t have anything in particular in mind. It played out day by day. But his curiosity was comforting.
“I heard dat somewhere, writers sayin’ dat der characters ends up takin’ over de story, only I find dat awful hard to believe. I mean, de story doesn’t fall from de sky, somebody’s gotta be tinkin’ it up. On account of, wedder ya like it or not, der’s still gotta be a mind behind all dis. No?”
“Yes. That’s true. Only, I couldn’t tell you how the whole thing works, really.”
“We’s avatars of you, is dat it den?”
He wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Yes, in a way. Except that you’re better than I am.”
“Dat’s on account of you embellish us, wot’s kind o’ nice on yer part, by de way.”
I had to think about that. Was I really embellishing them?
“I think I’m just a filter. I’m doing me job as a filter.”
Terry seemed to like the image, although:
“All de same, you must know wot’s gonna be happenin’ to us, eh?”
“What is it yer wantin’ to know exactly?”
“Am I gonna be in hot water wid Carmen on account of de stock-market ting?”
I couldn’t help smiling at his concern. I decided to give him a bit of a respite:
“No, not really . . .”
A wave of relief washed over Terry.
“Only don’t take too long before you tell ’er, and don’t go forgettin’ her birthday.”
Terry forced a smile.
“An’ I’m wonderin’ if you might be tellin’ me wot ’tis she’s hidin’ from me . . .”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he retracted:
“No, no. Ferget dat question. ’Twouldn’t be fair, I knows it. Only she’s terrible hard to sweet talk, dat one.”
I recognized Terry’s good sense. Then I glanced at the time, and realized I was late.
“Yer leavin’ already? You only just sat down!”
1586.101.4
Duos
“I’ve got to go to the optometrist. I was only stopping by to buy some coffee.”
He looked sincerely sorry to see me go. It broke my heart a little. As I went on my way, I wondered if it was normal to prefer characters to real people.
1587.77.9
Grammar
In any case, since the French dictionary now includes djebel, djihad, djellaba and djinn, amongst others, why not also include djob, djeule, djaque, and djoke, amongst others.
“All dose English words . . . my question is: how come dey can be doin’ dat, and we can’t?”
1588.88.7
Freedom
On the reverse side, excerpts photocopied from Umberto Eco’s The Open Work. Rereading the underlined passages, I realize the important role this book played in the very conception of For Sure.
1589.57.12
Photocopies
Chico and Étienne could see that the needle was moving, trembling.
“Dat’s on account of de needle’s like a magnet, an’ a magnet is always drawn to de north.”
Zed thought that Chico would be able to appreciate the particularity of the phenomenon, but he wasn’t sure Étienne would understand.
“See? De four directions — nort’, sout’, east, west?”
Zed had pointed to each direction as he named them, and Chico had nodded. Étienne, on the other hand, seemed to be expecting a magic trick, as though each of the cardinal points would make something appear in Zed’s hand.
“In de old days — before we had de GPS — dat’s ’ow folks found der way in de woods. Dey found de nort’, an’ den dey was guided by dat wid dis ’ere wee machine.”
Zed would have been hard put to explain how it actual
ly worked, but he thought it important that the boys be aware of the existence of the device.
“In French we calls it a compas, even doh on de package ’twas written boussole. Dat means boat words are OK.”
1590.102.10
The Trio
Minor mystery to clear up: find out what Gallimard did, or did not do, with Jan Potocki’s The Manuscript Found in Saragossa.
1591.68.2
Projects
“Which does you tink is harder? Winnin’ de Masters in tennis or singin’ soloist in an opera?”
“Wot, are you tellin’ me dey’s really an’ truly measured dat?”
. . .
“Alright, I’d say winnin’ de Masters.”
“No. Singin’ soloist.”
. . .
1592.86.8
Apologies
“On account of dey already knows de score.”
. . .
“Don’t mind me. I’s only tryin’ to be creative wid me Chiac.”
Internet malapropism: sinbox.
1593.132.2
Malapropism
In spite of everything, Terry had difficulty believing it.
“So, yer not even a wee bit vexed?”
“An’ why would I be vexed?”
“Well, usually you prefers fer us to be decidin’ tings togedder.”
Carmen knew what Terry meant. At the same time, she herself had taken her own initiative without consulting Terry.
“Seems to me, in dis case, ’tisn’t quite de same thing.”
“Awh, no?”
“No. We both of us need a bit o’ freedom, as well. Small things we can be decidin’ an’ organizin’ on our own.”
“Exactly. Dat’s well put. Dat’s wot I tink as well.”
“An’ anyhow, I’ve confidence in you. I know you’ll not be doin’ anyting crazy.”
Terry knew very well that Carmen believed in him, but it was nice to hear her say so.
“Seems to me, when we was startin’ to go out togedder, you wasn’t so sure o’ me as all dat.”
For Sure Page 65
