bothering with berries that were harder to get.
Then we got lost. We were separated not only from Cecile and the other cousins but from each other. It was one of the first times I can remember being really apart from my twin brother, and it was very frightening. I wandered around whimpering for more than an hour. I was afraid that if I gave in to panic and bawled, I would be punished by having no whipped cream on my raspberry slump at supper.
It began to get dark. I called feebly but there was no response. Then I came into an area that was a dense tangle of brambles, all laden with luscious berries. And there, not ten meters away, stood a big black bear, chomping and slurping.
"Donnie! Donnie!" I screamed, dropping my little berry pail. I took to my heels. The bear did not follow.
I stumbled over decaying slash and undergrowth, dodged around rotted stumps, and came to a place where sapling paper birches had sprung up. Their crowded trunks were like white broom-handles. I could scarcely push my way through. Perhaps I would be safe there from the bear.
"Donnie, where are you?" I yelled, still terror-stricken.
I seemed to hear him say: Over here.
"Where?" I was weeping and nearly blind. "I'm lost! Where are you?"
He said: Right here. I can hear you even though it's quiet. Isn't that funny?
I howled. I shrieked. It was
not
funny. "A bear is after me!"
He said: I think I see you. But I don't see the bear. I can only see you when I close my eyes, though. That's funny, too. Can you see me, Rogi?
"No, no," I wept. Not only did I not see him, but I began to realize that I didn't really
hear
him, either—except in some strange way that had nothing to do with my ears. Again and again I screamed my brother's name. I wandered out of the birch grove into more rocky, open land and started to run.
I heard Don say: Here's Cecile and Joe and Gerard. Let's find out if they can see you, too.
The voice in my mind was drowned out by my own sobbing. It was twilight—entre chien et loup, as we used to say. I was crying my heart out, not looking where I was going, running between two great rock outcroppings...
"Arrête!" commanded a loud voice. At the same time something grabbed me by the back of my overall straps, yanking me off my feet. I gave a shattering screech, flailed my arms, and twisted my neck to look over my shoulder, expecting to see black fur and tusks.
There was nothing there.
I hung in air for an instant, too stupefied to utter a sound. Then I was lowered gently to earth and the same adult voice said, "Bon courage, ti-frère. Maintenant c'est tr'bien."
The invisible thing was telling me not to be afraid, that everything was now all right. What a hope! I burst into hysterical whoops and wet my underpants.
The voice soothed me in familiar Canuckois, sounding rather like my younger uncle Alain. An unseen hand smoothed my touseled black curls. I screwed my eyes shut. A ghost! It was a ghost that had snatched me up! It would feed me to the bear!
"No, no," the voice insisted. "I won't harm you, little one. I want to help you. Look here, beyond the two large rocks. A very steep ravine. You would have fallen and hurt yourself badly. You might have been killed. And yet I know nothing of the sort happened ... so I saved you myself. Ainsi le début du paradoxe!"
"A ghost!" I wailed. "You're a ghost!"
I can hear the thing's mind-voice laughing even now as it said:
Exactement! Mais un fantôme familier...
Thus I was introduced to the being who would help me, advise me—and bedevil me—at many critical points in my life. The Family Ghost took my hand and drew me along a shadowy, twisted game trail, making me run so fast I was left nearly breathless and forgot to cry. It reassured me but warned me not to mention our meeting to anyone, since I would not be believed. All too probably brother and cousins would laugh at me, call me a baby. It would be much better to tell them how bravely I had faced the bear.
As the first stars
Then we got lost. We were separated not only from Cecile and the other cousins but from each other. It was one of the first times I can remember being really apart from my twin brother, and it was very frightening. I wandered around whimpering for more than an hour. I was afraid that if I gave in to panic and bawled, I would be punished by having no whipped cream on my raspberry slump at supper.
It began to get dark. I called feebly but there was no response. Then I came into an area that was a dense tangle of brambles, all laden with luscious berries. And there, not ten meters away, stood a big black bear, chomping and slurping.
"Donnie! Donnie!" I screamed, dropping my little berry pail. I took to my heels. The bear did not follow.
I stumbled over decaying slash and undergrowth, dodged around rotted stumps, and came to a place where sapling paper birches had sprung up. Their crowded trunks were like white broom-handles. I could scarcely push my way through. Perhaps I would be safe there from the bear.
"Donnie, where are you?" I yelled, still terror-stricken.
I seemed to hear him say: Over here.
"Where?" I was weeping and nearly blind. "I'm lost! Where are you?"
He said: Right here. I can hear you even though it's quiet. Isn't that funny?
I howled. I shrieked. It was
not
funny. "A bear is after me!"
He said: I think I see you. But I don't see the bear. I can only see you when I close my eyes, though. That's funny, too. Can you see me, Rogi?
"No, no," I wept. Not only did I not see him, but I began to realize that I didn't really
hear
him, either—except in some strange way that had nothing to do with my ears. Again and again I screamed my brother's name. I wandered out of the birch grove into more rocky, open land and started to run.
I heard Don say: Here's Cecile and Joe and Gerard. Let's find out if they can see you, too.
The voice in my mind was drowned out by my own sobbing. It was twilight—entre chien et loup, as we used to say. I was crying my heart out, not looking where I was going, running between two great rock outcroppings...
"Arrête!" commanded a loud voice. At the same time something grabbed me by the back of my overall straps, yanking me off my feet. I gave a shattering screech, flailed my arms, and twisted my neck to look over my shoulder, expecting to see black fur and tusks.
There was nothing there.
I hung in air for an instant, too stupefied to utter a sound. Then I was lowered gently to earth and the same adult voice said, "Bon courage, ti-frère. Maintenant c'est tr'bien."
The invisible thing was telling me not to be afraid, that everything was now all right. What a hope! I burst into hysterical whoops and wet my underpants.
The voice soothed me in familiar Canuckois, sounding rather like my younger uncle Alain. An unseen hand smoothed my touseled black curls. I screwed my eyes shut. A ghost! It was a ghost that had snatched me up! It would feed me to the bear!
"No, no," the voice insisted. "I won't harm you, little one. I want to help you. Look here, beyond the two large rocks. A very steep ravine. You would have fallen and hurt yourself badly. You might have been killed. And yet I know nothing of the sort happened ... so I saved you myself. Ainsi le début du paradoxe!"
"A ghost!" I wailed. "You're a ghost!"
I can hear the thing's mind-voice laughing even now as it said:
Exactement! Mais un fantôme familier...
Thus I was introduced to the being who would help me, advise me—and bedevil me—at many critical points in my life. The Family Ghost took my hand and drew me along a shadowy, twisted game trail, making me run so fast I was left nearly breathless and forgot to cry. It reassured me but warned me not to mention our meeting to anyone, since I would not be believed. All too probably brother and cousins would laugh at me, call me a baby. It would be much better to tell them how bravely I had faced the bear.
As the first stars
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