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when I thought I saw my father. He wore a coat like Papa’s, and combed his hair the same way. I followed him, but he kept disappearing between the rows of blenders and tool kits. Finally, I turned into an aisle and there he was, reaching for a toaster. I could see his face. It wasn’t Papa.

    After Luc was in bed and Maman was asleep in front of the fireplace, I snapped on Sputnik’s leash. It was a brilliantly clear, cold night. As I walked down the dark street, I could see in the windows where blinds hadn’t been drawn for the night. The people inside seemed impossibly happy and warm. I walked down to Houston’s house, which isnot far from mine. I thought that maybe we could talk or play Nintendo, like we used to in the days when we both believed that the Transformers would save the world, but when I got near his house I could see that he and his dad were in the garage fiddling with the car. I turned back before he noticed me.

    You might be wondering where the rest of our family was all those weeks. Nowhere, is where, except for Aunt Sophie. Every week or so, Maman took us to visit Grandpa in the nursing home. He’d ask where Papa was. Sometimes he’d call me Ben. Maybe nature was being kind to him by letting him forget that his son was dead.
    As for all my uncles–and there are tons of them–I don’t remember seeing them that year. Our family is big, but that’s not unusual in Quebec. My mother has six brothers, and my father, ten. And then there are all my aunts and their husbands. They phoned Maman every now and then, but I don’t remember any of them turning up to see me or Luc. My father had been a disgrace, a suicide.
    Uncle Ted did a vanishing act. For the first time in my life I needed him. I wanted him to call me to say something like: “Hey Francis! What are you doing this afternoon? I have two tickets to see the Expos. Wanna come with me?”
    Or, “Wanna help me to fix the old clunker? The muffler is broken, my boy. And you know what? After that, I could even teach you how to drive.”
    He never did. I heard Maman tell Aunt Sophie that Uncle Ted liked to drink water, the kind that you put in a tray and it becomes ice cubes, and then it swims in a glass of Scotch.

    I wanted to make sure that Christmas was okay for Luc’s sake. To avoid going up to the attic for the Christmas boxes, I had bought new tinsel and Christmas decorations at Canadian Tire. Luc was curled up in front of the TV watching
Barney
when I came in with my packages. The curtains were drawn against the dark, even though it was only five in the afternoon. I went into the kitchen and put the bags on the table.
    “Why did you buy that stuff, Francis? How much did it all cost?” Maman sounded exhausted.
    “It’s Christmas, in case you haven’t noticed!”
    “What did you use for money?”
    “Last year’s birthday money from Grandpa.”
    She looked at me as if I was Spock from
Star Trek.
Spock used to scare me. Actually, so did Barbra Streisand. When I was little, I would lie in my bed in the dark, afraid that they would come into my room and kidnap me. I was a weird kid, what can I say? It was a terrifying thought at the time, but now it would have been a relief to have them come for me.
    Frowning, Maman poured herself a cup of black coffee.“Next time, before you buy junk, think of buying food instead. It would be more useful.”
    That was all the thanks I got. I left the Christmas decorations in their plastic bags piled on the kitchen table, and went to my bedroom.

    Despite the decorations and Luc’s stage debut in a pink and white lamb costume, Christmas was a big zero. Now I could add Christmas holidays to the long list of things I had grown to hate, which included going to church on Sunday and locking my keys in the house. Aunt Sophie suggested that we go to a restaurant for Christmas dinner, and Grandpa invited us to the Family Fun Christmas at the nursing home. Maman told them we needed the time alone, so Luc and I