Flight of Aquavit (54 page)
Authors: Anthony Bidulka
going to happen…with me…with Cheryl and
me…but, well…I don’t know.” He laughed nerv-
ously. “But thanks.”
I could see by the look in his eyes that his
familiar, closeted lifestyle was luring him, tempt-
430 — F l i g h t o f A q u av i t
ing him with its shallow promise of safety and
ease.
“Daniel, I want you to remember there are peo-
ple around you who can help you and support
you through this. Including me.”
On the spur of the moment I decided we need-
ed a gesture, a seal, a token of some sort to com-
memorate this moment, celebrate it. “Hold on a
sec,” I said, turning around and dashing into the
house. I returned in a moment brandishing the
bottle of Aquavit I’d left on the foyer table along
with two glasses. I poured out two shots and
placed the bottle to rest on the hood of the car.
How festive! How jolly!
“A little Christmas cheer to toast the season,” I
said holding my glass aloft. “Here’s to you,
Daniel, a truly free man!” I wondered if he’d
remember our conversation in Diva’s. I may have
been overstating the case, but if nothing else, I
wanted to give him something to shoot for, per-
haps a New Year’s resolution in the making.
“What is this stuff?” he asked, giving the liquid
a suspicious sniff.
“Aquavit,” I told him. “The water of life.” The
translation was appropriate I thought. I remem-
bered when I first tasted the liqueur in New York
with Sereena. At first I resisted it, but then its
warmth and flavour overtook me. An acquired
taste, perhaps, but it would forever be a favourite
of mine. As for Daniel, maybe this moment
would signify his transition into a life he was
always meant to live, a person he was always
meant to be. Or was I hoping for too much? If he
Anthony Bidulka — 431
took anything from this experience, I hoped it was
the courage to try.
I downed my drink in one gulp, as did Daniel.
He wordlessly opened the driver’s side door of
his car and got into the still-running vehicle. He
didn’t roll down his window, but mouthed the
words, “Thank you” one more time and drove off.
And as the car moved away I realized Daniel
had indeed taken something with him.
A Flight of Aquavit.
Atop the vehicle was the bottle of Aquavit. I
watched as it jerked from the sudden motion of
the car’s departure, precariously close to
falling…and then…it did.
Acknowledgements
The many who gifted me with some of the best
days in a writer’s life—thanks for showing up,
laughing at the right spots, paying attention, brav-
ing the Sask lineup, flowers, cards, hugs, e-mails,
messages on that day
and
long after, the rose
brigade, I will never forget it.
The wondrous booksellers, store managers,
event coordinators, festival organizers in all the
cities, who provided a warm, welcoming place to
land—especially Beryl, David, Tom, Jackie, Beth,
Louann, Henrietta, Gaylene, Susan, Gord,
Jennifer, Janine, Mark, Charlene, Paul and Holly.
All the reviewers and interviewers and colum-
nists and news reporters for their time and atten-
tion.
Carolee and Carol for your invaluable promo-
tional efforts—you put a poster where?
The most amazing network of supporters
across Canada and beyond, created through the
power of e-mail and friends—special thanks to
Darrell, George, Judy, Rob.
Ginette my goddess of French, Carol for
Timmy’s in the well and countless more, Cal—you
Cheekay Monkay, Dori for T-shirts+BFF, George &
Jim for the first flowers and tallest slices of cake,
David—ever grateful for the window display,
Ptown fun, perpetuating the BV myth, & Dick,
Gord & Mary for being there, Shelley & Murray
for showing up where I least expected, Shelley &
Linda for champagne at the Arc, RQ Fan Club—
Anthony Bidulka — 433
Dylan, Jenn, Dan, Judy (I still wear my button), Pat
& Mike—my New Yorkers, Marv & Ginette—
what a cake, Dana—bon voyage dear man, Fran—
for behind the scenes efforts-above & beyond, luv
ya, Mom—for being brave, flexible, smart, loving,
for learning from & embracing life, Family &
Friends—xo always.
Heather—keep writing, Gordon—good health,
Claude—thanks for the call.
Insomniac Press—Mike, Adrienne, Marijke,
Emily—my eternal gratitude, you rock.
Catherine Lake, editor and friend, whose skill
made this book better and whose kindness makes
it shine.
For you, thanks for picking up this book and
being a reader.
And Herb.
