Fish Change Direction in Cold Weather Read Online Free PDF Page A

You look like you’re not bothered about this . . . You’re allowed to feel something, you know.’
    I had to say something. I didn’t want them to imagine I didn’t love them any more. I wasn’t thinking straight.
    ‘Who’s going to cook when I’m at Dad’s?’
    My dad smiled as best he could. Not at all reassuring.
    ‘I’m going to buy a cookbook, and we’ll give it a go together. It’ll be fun.’
    It was off to a bad start, this shared custody business. I stood up.
    ‘I have to get my bag ready for school.’
    My mum just took my hand.
    ‘If you need to talk, if you have any questions, you mustn’t hesitate.’
    I let go of her hand. She was expecting something. I went closer and hugged her. She squeezed even harder than me. When she let me go, I went and did the same with my dad. He squeezed me
really
hard.
    ‘Dad, you’re squashing me . . .’
    I didn’t have anything more to say or do. I went into the hall and headed for my room without stopping at the bathroom. I could hear them whispering. I didn’t feel like listening to
them any more.
    In my room, once I’d closed the door, I felt weird. I heard them switch on the television. Off went my dad on his evening TV shift. My parents hadn’t spoken for long and for once
they hadn’t argued.
    I picked up my video camera but I wasn’t in the mood to look at the neighbour’s boobs. I rewound to New Year’s. We’d spent it at Julien’s place in
Montérégie. I’d been spared the hyperactive twins jumping on the sofa. They were with their mum. It was better that way for Julien, he didn’t have to run around after them
all evening. Joint custody probably suited him. It only ever really suits the parents anyway.
    I couldn’t stop going back and forth between 1997 and 1998. I pressed rewind and listened to it over and over, the fateful countdown.
    ‘Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . zero! Happy New Year!’
    Then I saw my mum and dad wishing me
Happy New Year
into the lens. They’d had trouble finding the right words. Now I understood why they’d been so uncomfortable.
    ‘Dad, get closer to Mum so I can see both of you in the picture!’
    I pressed stop. I’d seen too much of them. I put the tape with the neighbour’s boobs back in. I switched the video camera off and put it away in my schoolbag.
    I stretched out on my back and looked at the ceiling. It was white like before, but the white looked different. I didn’t get it – everything seemed the same. But nothing was the same
any more. Then it started, all of a sudden. Tears streaming from every corner of my eyes and pouring down my face. I put my hands on my cheeks but the tears kept coming. I couldn’t stop them.
I was crying as I’d never cried before. Usually I only cry if I hurt myself or a friend hits me. This time it was coming from inside. It hurts so much more. I didn’t know that.
    This couldn’t be happening to me! Not me. How could they split up? Share me? Impossible! Your own parents aren’t supposed to split up, only ever other people’s.
    ‘They mustn’t! They mustn’t! They mustn’t!’
    And I cried some more until there was nothing left. I didn’t know that would end either. They hadn’t even asked me what I thought. And yet it was my business too, it was my life! If
they were behaving like this it must mean they didn’t love me any more, since they had said they still loved each other, but not in the same way.
    ‘Help me! Help me! Help me!’
    No one answered. I was all alone. I went over to the window. It was raining, and I looked up at the sky, grey and black. I couldn’t stop staring at it. I was so small, and it was so
big.
    And I prayed to the sky to help me.

BÉBÉ . . . JE T’AI, TOI, BÉBÉ . . .
     
     
     
    ‘
Ten to twenty millimetres of rain, now that could cause a few problems . . .
’ The man on the television screen was relaxed and in a cheerful mood. He
strolled along through a light rain, in his loose green