For Sure (79 page)

“Well, dat's a surprise alright! I'd never 'ave tawt 'twas anytin' like dis, sometin' so shockin' big, I mean.”

Terry embraced Carmen, squeezing her tight, then tenderly, and tight again. It was a kind of thank you.

“I can't wait. 'Tis like I can see us . . .”

“Me too, I can already see us!”

. . .

“I loves you, girl . . .”

“I love you, too. Shall we watch de film now?”

Render unto Caesar that which belongs to Caesar.
The Open Work
read in the context of a writer's residency at the Université de Moncton (1997), where I was trying to imagine how the novel could draw inspiration from digital technology.

“Have a gock at wot me dad gave me.”

“Wot is it?”

“'Tis writin' fer folks dat can't be readin' wid der eyes.”

?

“Dey only 'ave to touch de wee bumps wid der fingers an' dey can understand.”

Chico asked for the cardboard sheet, examined it more closely.

“Hun!”

Étienne was happy whenever Chico hadn't already learned something at school.

I'd photocopied those excerpts from
The Open Work
because the book was out of print. It has since been reprinted, and I've bought it (Harvard University Press). Appropriations are not an end in themselves; they necessarily lead to something else.

“Me, I'm afraid of a shovel comin' down on me foot and slicin' off me toes.”

“That's a tangible fear, easy to circumscribe and to surmount.”

“
Tangible
,
circumscribe
,
surmount
, wot do all dose big words mean?”

thriller

bears seals codfish

inspect prosecute net

police and troubled fisherfolk

fish fry

“When I's older I's gonna pilot helicopters.”

Chico's declaration seemed to come out of the blue. Zed was as surprised as he was moved. And he also noted the boy's use of the proper French word
piloter
rather than something like . . .
drĩvér
?

“Well, dat's a right smart idea! What made you tink of it?”

As a consequence, and without thinking, he'd used
quesse
for “what” instead of his usual
quoisse
.

“Did you hear talk 'bout helicopters in school, den?”

“No. I was just tinkin'.”

Zed decided not to push the matter any further. The fact that the boy was imagining any sort of future seemed already sufficient victory.

“Well, I wouldn't be afraid to go up in a helicopter wid you. I know you'd know exactly wot to do.”

Chico looked pleased.

Hans will end up staying quite a while in Fredericton, where he'll find enough work to buy himself a new pair of pants, shoes, and several shirts. He's in no great hurry to come to Moncton, taking his time, putting aside a little money. Does he realize that he won't see Moncton in this book, with this author? No. He's convinced he'll make it to Moncton in this book.

“Hallo Serge!”

“Terry!”

“'Ave you got a minute?”

“Sure!”

Terry pulled out the roll of tape from the pocket of his jacket.

“Wot does you call dis 'ere sort o' tape?”

“Tek tape. How come?”

“Well, on account of dey's written ‘tuck tape' all over it. Tuck t-u-c-k.”

Serge shook his head sadly, as though to say things were never that simple:

“Do you want the whole story, from de very beginning?”

Terry explained himself:

“Well, it's only dat it don't make no sense!”

“In dis 'ere business, there's a whole lot of things that don't make no sense, let me tell you.”

Serge took the roll from Terry's hands and began:

“When dis 'ere tape was first introduced on de market, some twenty years ago, we called it tek tape or Tyvek tape, because dey was usin' it to tape up Tyvek joints. It was a tape specially approved for dat in de building code. The name ‘tuck tape' wasn't written on it in those days.”

Terry nodded: this was exactly the sort of explanation he was looking for.

“The name ‘tuck tape' isn't commonly used dese days. Dey tend to say ‘sheathing tape,' ‘tek tape,' or simply ‘red tape.' The problem with ‘tuck tape' is that folks get it mixed up wid ‘duct tape.'”

Terry was amazed: that was exactly what had happened to him.

“In de last ten years, duct tape — you know, dat's de grey tape — has more or less caused a revolution, on account of it's become de best tape to fix all sorts o' tings: furniture, broken windows, ripped car seats, bed covers, cable . . . pretty much anyting.”

Terry nodded again. He could see why the owners of the hardware wanted Serge to run the store. Serge continued:

“Me, if I was sendin' someone to de store to fetch a roll of tuck tape, I'd take de trouble to add, dat's ‘tuck' wid a
t
, like in Telesphorus, an' I'd even add more, I'd tell dem it's de red tape dat costs around ten dollars a roll. If I was wantin' anudder sort, I'd tell dem to buy de grey duct tape — an' dat's ‘duct' wid a
d
as in Donald de duck.”

Terry noticed that, in addition to being clear, Serge's explanations were quite pleasant to listen to. Serge now returned to the roll he was holding:

“I'm pretty sure that dis 'ere company — Canadian Technical Tape — sells a whole lot o' different tapes, like masking tape, hockey tape, electric tape, an dat dey is de ones dat called der red tape ‘tuck tape.' An' dat can't have been too long ago. Only folks call it ‘tek tape' so as not to be confusin' it wid de original red tape, made by 3M, dat is, if I isn't mistaken.”

Serge had come to the end of his explanations.

“Is dat wot you was askin'?”

“Alright, I tink I got it. Der must be times de whole ting drives you round de bend.”

Serge laughed, and added:

“Most likely widin a couple o' years, dey'll change de colour, an' it'll only cause a whole lot more red tape.”

True or false: gossip and rumour are forms of sociology.

“Are you afraid he won't make something of himself?”

“Well, wid de life ee's had an' all dat, I might 'ave tawt maybe . . .”

“Could be, he sensed that.”

“Still, day by day, me entire focus goes on makin' sure de boy's alright.”

“Of course. Only things like that are communicated somehow.”

. . .

“Probably he told you that so you wouldn't worry.”

“So den, 'tisn't true ee wants to pilot helicopters?”

“Maybe it will be true. But more likely he felt the need to say it to you, probably to reassure you.”

Zed didn't particularly like to think of Chico having to make such calculations.

“It isn't conscious. I know, it's hard to believe, only that's how it is: one unconscious speaks to another.”

“Dat gives me de shivers down me spine. Are you sure?”

death

like some big X

in the curve of his back

the railway lines in the palm of

his hand

“Me, I'd say yer fear of yer toes gettin' sliced off by a shovel is more a worry dan a fear. I mean, there's not much chance of it happening, now is der?”

“An how can you be so sure?”

“Well, dat shovel'd 'ave to be sharp as razor, or else you'd be dealin' wid some wild muscleman. Tink 'ow much strengt' 'twould take.”

. . .

“No?”

Forty years or so later, Umberto Eco wrote
How to Travel with a Salmon
.

“Mum, luh at dat building over der!”

“That's the old convent. All dat's left are de walls because de insides went up in flames. Everyting was made o' wood in dose days.”

Étienne imagined the insides of a wooden building wrapped in flames and rising up high over the roof.

In Fredericton, Hans washed dishes in The Palate restaurant for several months.

“Hahaha. Dese're tiny strawberries, eh, Dad?”

Étienne wasn't used to strawberries so small that they had to be kept in a proportionally small jar. Terry tried to attenuate the boy's comment in front of their hostess:

“Wee field strawberries! Dat's rare! I remember gatherin' dem when I was a boy.”

Madame Dugas, the innkeeper added:

“I've put in twenty-three bottles dis year, dat's four more dan last year. Ask me, ‘twon't happen again. De blueberries're invadin' us.”

Étienne looked at his father, his mother. Invading? Terry explained:

“Dat means der everywhere, more an' more o' dem.”

And he added, for the benefit of his hostess:

“Dat's a shame, on account of dese wee bottled strawberries're not a bad bit nice!”

“But, Dad! I tawt you only liked de big fat strawberries widout chemicals!”

“Sure, only dat's aside from de wee strawberries from Caraquet. Tink of 'ow long it takes just to be fillin' a wee bottle. Dat's 'ow you can tell der worth a whole lot.”

“Like gold?”

Carmen choked — in a manner of speaking — on her mouthful of coffee. Terry threw her a look. Quietly, he'd begun to introduce his son to natural resources. Madame Dugas, however, was not the type to be outdone:

“'Round 'ere we'd say 'tis rare as a pope's shit.”

Étienne found it strange that anyone would compare something as good to eat as strawberries with excrement; he endeavoured to forget the analogy.

There is also a kind of tape called “duck tape,” that has the image of a happy little yellow duck on the package. This particular tape, apparently the same width as those called “tek,” “tuck,” and “duct,” is available in several colours, including green, red, blue, and yellow.

For several days following his conversation with Myriam the psychologist, Zed continued to wonder to what extent Chico had been conscious or not of seeking to reassure him by declaring his intention to become a helicopter pilot. He tried to figure out a subtle way to find out.

“'Ow'd you like to go out an' hit some balls?”

Chico enjoyed whacking tennis balls back and forth with his new father. Neither he nor Zed was especially good at it, but it gave them pleasure, and felt good, all the same.

“You can ask Étienne to come, if you like.”

Chico appeared to hesitate, looked up at Zed.

“I'm only sayin' if you wants to, yer not obliged. A fellow doesn't always feel like it.”

Chico seemed to agree.

“Alright den, are we ready?”

Chico nodded.

“Let's go, den!”

As they walked down the hallway to the exit, Chico slipped his hand in Zed's. The need to figure anything out exploded like fireworks.

Carmen's dream: on Mother's Day, Terry, Carmen, and the two kids spend the weekend at Carmen's parents in Grande-Digue. On Sunday morning, while preparing for mass, Carmen offers to pin a red rose on Étienne's sweater, but the boy doesn't want the red flower; he wants a white one. Try as she might to explain why he must wear a red one, Étienne refuses. It seems to Carmen that she's never seen him so obstinate. Terry intervenes. He, too, explains to his son the reason for the red rose. Étienne calms down, but continues to refuse the red rose, and to demand a white one. Terry suggests to Carmen to drop it, and tells Étienne he'll wear a red rose or nothing at all. Étienne chooses to wear nothing at all. His grandparents don't understand Étienne's behaviour either, but they don't make a fuss. Obviously, Carmen tries not to worry too much about it, but she can't help wondering if she is dead in her son's eyes.

“Hallo. Somebody told me you've got the whole first series of
Acadieman
for sale?”

“Down in de corner, behind de yellow chair.”

“Great . . .”

Pour sûr.
Does the expression come solely from the English “for sure”? Too bad. The gradation from
Pas pire
to
Pour sûr
suits me
just fine
, not to mention that “
pour sûr
”
thumbs its nose at the redundant cliché “
sûr et certain,”
which I place in the same category as “
la langue de Molière
” and “
la langue de Shakespeare
.” Have I mentioned my love-hate relationship with language?

The cartoon showed a couple of small pigs — one male wearing a cap, and a female wearing an apron — gardening in the yard of their little house.

“Funny de way dey is always showin' a man an' a woman in de cartoons . . .”