In the First Early Days of My Death Read Online Free PDF Page A

wings and fly away.
    Ever since that woman had moved into Alika’s house, the ground had shifted, the earth had opened up and turned over, revealing a dark, fertile loam beneath its surface. Evelyn had dug out there herself, dug until her back nearly cracked in two, and she knew the soil was marbled through with clay like streaks of fat in a cheap pot roast.
    But that woman had dug and the yard had yielded up its vitamins, surrendered itself with plump tomatoes and waxy yellow peppers, bumblebees and butterflies and poppies and even carnations — carnations! In Manitoba! And early this spring, the bulbs — dark, purple tulips and crocuses — no, this was not going to put her to sleep. It only made her angry.
    She turned over and pulled the chain of her bedside lamp. In the darkness, she tried again. The jars this time: horseradish, mustard, mayonnaise, jam…

    Felix Delano lay in bed with his wife, Alice, and his chow chow, Poppy. He was trying to wake his wife up slowly, beginning with her feet. He slid his calloused heel across her slim arches, across her ankles, hoping to tickle her. The dog woke up and looked at him, but Alice did not stir. Alice lay facing her husband, her mouth half open as if she were about to say something in a dream. Felix slid his foot up over her calf and wrapped his arm around her waist. He blew into the hollow of her throat. The dog whimpered softly and hopped off the bed. Alice smiled, but she was still asleep. Felix began to stroke her hair. He spoke into her ear. He named the things he would make her for breakfast if she would wake up.
    Alice had always loved to sleep. But lately she threw herself into it with such great pleasure that Felix wondered if she were trying to avoid him. Every evening, early, she’d wriggle under the covers and snuffle into the pillow like a burrowing animal. Then she’d lie motionless for nine or ten hours. This morning, she was engaged in a particularly dedicated slumber. Felix gave up. He swung his legs out onto the floor and stood. Poppy followed him into the kitchen.
    It was August twenty-second. The heat wave had been broken by the storm the night before, and the birds were chirping. Felix tried to focus on the day ahead, tried to put his wife’s sleeping body out of his mind. He opened all the windows, letting in sunlight and air and the undulating whisper of thousands of delicate poplar leaves rising and falling with the morning breeze. He put the kettle on and walked to the front door to retrieve the newspaper. The whole street looked clean and quiet, relieved of the oppressive heat that, for weeks, had woken everyone at sunrise. He carried the paper back to the kitchen and spread it open on the table. On the front page, below the fold, the mayor’s face looked up at him, smiling.
    Felix had seen the mayor yesterday, trying to evade the protesters at City Hall, and he wanted to read about the rally. But first he glanced at the top story, illustrated by the photo of a smiling man in a white coat, the city entomologist. The mosquito count was levelling off due to the lack of rain. The entomologist announced that the worst of the plague was over. Felix smiled grimly, thinking of the rain water that had collected overnight in bird baths, ditches, old rubber boots and pails that people left out in their yards. Since yesterday, the city had become one gigantic mosquito breeding ground. He turned his attention to the story with the big picture of Mayor Douglas. The mayor was shaking hands with a large bald man in a dark suit, but the men were not looking at each other. They were beaming at the camera in a celebratory way.
    The caption identified the bald man as the president of All-Am Corporation. According to the story, All-Am was ready to go ahead with the new casino complex that would revitalize downtown Winnipeg. The old buildings were already empty and ready for the wrecking ball. One brief paragraph mentioned that a