by Rana Bose
One evening I came home and Myra was walking around in high heels, a scarf around her neck, pacing the apartment. Her eyebrows were raised and she had changed her hairstyle. I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t answer.
A week later I returned home early and noticed she wasn’t there. I hoped she had picked up a voice-over advertising gig somewhere. She was beginning to get those types of contracts lately. They liked how she could capture different personalities, all with a distinct and individual voice. I slumped down on the couch and fell asleep.
The door opened around midnight. I saw Malia framed against the door, the black dress on, the hair raised on both sides of her temples. She looked down at me on the couch. The blue light in the lobby shone through her dress. She did not know me. Agony swept through me.
I stepped out into the blustery night and hailed a cab. I hadn’t shaved for a few days and my stubble felt like a mat. When I arrived on St-Laurent, it was choking with people. An outdoor stage had been set up in one of the back lanes. I watched as a band slowly prepared for its second set. I went to the café at the corner of Napoleon, but the line-up was too long. Instead, I sat on the steps outside, took my hat off, and crossed my hands around my knees. I looked at the row of street lamps glowing dimly, and then gazed up at the moon with its halo around it.
Then a woman walked by in torn fishnet stockings and red lipstick. She looked at me and dropped a loony into my hat. The coin spun for a while, then hobbled to a halt.
End
Acknowledgements
There is no moment of doubt. There is a continuum of internal conflicts. What we say we are and what we do not feel comfortable bringing up. What is easily said and done and what is difficult to live by. We are caught in a web—our public stands and our private angst. About not letting the world know, our deepest fears. About hiding behind a smokescreen, a pall of non-descript inanities, a fog cover—behind which we make ourselves acceptable to the public. We play safe. We live between two aspirations. One that we really wish we could live by and what we actually live. This novel is about that conflict. About crossing over to the other side. It is not easy.
I have had some very good well-wishers, close friends and writers who have read the manuscript for this novel, in its various versions. It has gone through many changes. I would like to thank them first. Lisa Foster, Mark Silverman, Michael Springate, Julian Samuel, Cora Siré, Sylvie Martel, Rimi Chatterjee, Jody Freeman, Deirdre Silverman, Sam Boskey, Maya Khankhoje and a few others who read excerpts from it. Every single comment they made or the hesitation they expressed, registered in my brains. I wish to thank Robin Philpot, my publisher at Baraka, for taking up this challenge and also deeply acknowledge the sound advice and guidance I have received from my colleagues at Montreal Serai, who for thirty-two years have been at the core of my literary endeavors.
Available from Baraka Books
Yasmeen Haddad Loves Joanasi Maqaittik
A Novel by Carolyn Marie Souaid
The Daughters’ Story
A Novel by Murielle Cyr
Exile Blues
A Novel by Douglas Gary Freeman
(October 2019)
NONFICTION
Israel, A Beachhead in the Middle East
From European Colony to a US Power Projection Platform
Stephen Gowans
Patriots, Traitors and Empires
The Story of Korea’s Struggle for Freedom
Stephen Gowans
The Einstein File
The FBI’s Long War Against the World’s Most Famous Scientist
Fred Jerome
Motherhood, The Mother of All Sexism
A Plea for Parental Equality
Marilyse Hamelin (translated by Arielle Aaronson)
From Qc Fiction *
2018 GILLER FINALIST
Songs for The Cold of Heart
Eric Dupont
(translated by Peter McCambridge)
Explosions: Michael Bay and The
Pyrotechnics of The Imagination
by Mathieu Poulin
(translated by Aleshia Jensen)
* QC Fiction is an imprint of Baraka Books
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Bone Crunch
Chapter Two
Debris from the Skies
Chapter Three
Diamond Dust
Chapter Four
Broken China
Chapter Five
The Way It Happened at the Majestic
Chapter Six
Like a Warm Blanket
Chapter Seven
Pieces of Napkin
Chapter Eight
Finally, Ms. Banks
Chapter Nine
Blown from the Inside
Chapter Ten
Two Reflections
Chapter Eleven
Khyber, No One Passes
Chapter Twelve
Things to Do
Chapter Thirteen
On Board
Chapter Fourteen
Shadow Pictures
Chapter Fifteen
Letter from Hell
Chapter Sixteen
African Diamonds
Chapter Seventeen
Puffs of Smoke
Chapter Eighteen
Kandahar will Devour Us
Chapter Nineteen
Salvage
Chapter Twenty
Documentarian Dies
Chapter Twenty-One
The Sound of the Scythe
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nomad
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ten Paces Ahead
Chapter Twenty-Four
It’s Over
Chapter Twenty-Five
You Only Live . . . Once
Chapter Twenty-Six
Quels Diables!
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Thaw is Official
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Blossoms
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Blue Skies and the Colour of Blood!
Chapter Thirty
The Two Things That Happened in the Beginning
Chapter Thirty-One
Not Coming Back
Chapter Thirty-Two
Double Funeral
Acknowledgements
Guide
Couverture
Page de Titre
Page de Copyright
Epigraphe
Remerciements
