For Sure (74 page)

“Now what! As doh, dey was out to have fun settin' fire to every damn ting around dem!”

“Women're more likely to be worryin' 'bout tings like dat dan men are.”

“You knows it.”

“Still, dey says der's a terrible lot o' forest fires startin' up on account of de sun beatin' down on bits o' glass.”

Terry knew this, but it didn't seem to be the same thing.

“Well den, wot're you gonna do?”

Terry raised his eyebrows, thinking, then:

“I can't be obsessin' o'er it, is all.”

Irritation (superfluous?) at the disproportion between things with the same names, between a mole (on your face) and a mole (the cylindrical mammal), for example. Why? Because they both emerge from below the surface? (Other examples?)

“Is it a disease to be a hermit?”

. . .

“Eh? Did you 'ear me?”

“I'm only tinkin' on it . . . fer once we've a word's dat's said more easily in French dan English 'round 'ere. Hermit. A hermit. 'Tis a whole lot easier just to be sayin'
ermite
. De French was right smart to drop de
h.
”

“Alright den,
fair enough
. Only is it a disease to be a
nermit
?”

Often, the pronunciation of words is the only thing that differentiates Acadian from standard French. For example, Acadians may say “
ertchuler
” instead of “
reculer
” for “back up,” “
aidjuille
” instead of “
aiguille
” for “needle,” “
caneçon
” instead of “
caleçon
” for “underpants.” Also, Acadians will interchange the “
en
” and “
ne,
” and switch sentences into the negative without rhyme or reason.

“I can't find the toothpaste. Do you know where it is?”

Étienne had not prepared a lie in advance in response to this question, so he screwed up his courage and went with the truth:

“Yes.”

“Well den, where?”

“Under my bed.”

“Under your bed?”

“Yes.”

“An' what's it doin' there?”

Étienne stood tall:

“'Twas for painting.”

“For painting?”

“Yes.”

Surprised as much by her son's candour as by this new use for toothpaste, Carmen hesitated a moment before deciding on how to follow up on the incident:

“Have you run out of paint, then?”

“No.”

“Well, go an' fetch it, den . . .”

“Wot, the paint?”

“No, the toothpaste.”

Étienne went to get the tube, and brought it back to his mother. Carmen squeezed some toothpaste onto her brush.

“Is your drawing done?”

“No.”

Carmen gave the tube back to Étienne:

“Will you show it to me when it's finished?”

Étienne would have liked to feel triumphant, but the drawing in question wasn't turning out very well, and the idea of having to finish it left him rather cold. Nevertheless:

“OK, Mum.”

Complicity.

Entering the hardware store, Terry wasn't convinced he'd find what he was looking for.

“Hi, Terry!”

He turned round to see an old schoolmate wearing the store's regulation shirt.

“Awh, hallo Serge! I didn't know you's workin' 'ere.”

“I's in de warehouse before. Dey decided to put me 'ere on de floor, so's I'd be getting' a bit of experience.”

“Wot? I suppose you'll be a manager afore long?”

“Dat's de idea. Dey's doin' der best to convince me.”

Terry had hit the mark. He'd alluded to the manager's job in fun really, just a way to renew acquaintance with an old school chum that he hadn't seen for years.

“Really?! Well, why not? Better you dan some udder fellow!”

“Awh, I don't know really. I'm not dat fond o' stress.”

Terry could understand that:

“You was fine in de warehouse, is dat it den?”

Serge appreciated Terry's understanding:

“Dat's it exactly.”

“Well an' still, 'tis nice to know dey's tinkin' yer smart enough to be doin' de manager's job.”

“Dat's true, I suppose. Hadn't tawt of it dat way. 'Ow 'bout you, den, wot're you up to?”

“I belongs to Didot Books wid a partner. You know, in de lofts building on Church?”

“Sure, sure, somebody told me dat. 'Ow's dat whole ting workin' out?”

“Not bad at all, really.”

“An' yer store as well?”

“Just fine. Better'n I expected, anyhow.”

“Excellent!”

“Now, if you could be givin' me a hand wid dis 'ere . . .”

Terry had trouble getting his hand down to the bottom of his pocket.

“I swear I must be gainin' weight. Dese jeans was never dis tight before.”

Finally he dug out what he was looking for, and handed it to Serge:

“Aha! A screw! An' she's a wee little ting, to boot!”

Serge examined the tiny metal piece.

“I'll tell ya, I doesn't tink we's got one like it, only I knows where you can find dem.”

Contrary to what one might think, the onomatopoeia
patati-patata
is in no way related to the word “
patate.
” Rather it's an imitation of the sound of a galloping horse's hooves.

A sudden cry. Had his mother injured herself?

“Étienne, come 'ere an' take a look at dis!”

And immediately he remembered the shards of vase at the bottom of the pail of broken glass. He'd never thought Carmen would discover the misdeed at a time when Terry wasn't home.

“What happened to my vase?”

Étienne noticed Carmen's almost neutral tone, as though since her initial cry of surprise, she'd had time to mourn her loss and to reconcile herself with life. He approached the pail, looked within:

. . .

“When did dat happen?”

“De udder day.”

“What, it just fell?”

Étienne had the feeling that Carmen's questions required no reply, that his mother had simply called him to her side as a kind of witness.

“I sure liked dat vase, only things like that do break. It's to be expected.”

Étienne, too, stood in contemplation of the shards at the bottom of the pail. A solemn moment passed.

“I suppose 'twas an accident, eh?”

Étienne looked up at his mother, unsure whether he ought to reply.

“Good ting der's a whole lot of nice vases. We'll find another.”

As she finished her sentence, Carmen bent over, wrapped one arm around her son and plunged the other into the pail, pulled out a handful of broken shards, and admired their shapes and colour.

“They're lovely pieces, no?”

Yes, Étienne too thought they were lovely and, what's more, he figured Terry would probably not have to apologize.

Abandonment could be the opposite of loss.

Having compared Terry's screw to several others he'd picked out from among the hundreds of tiny drawers aligned along the aisle, Serge concluded:

“No, we doesn't have it. Must be a machine screw. You'll find dat at Maritime Fasteners.”

“Yer pullin' me leg . . .”

Serge understood Terry's discouragement, and tried to cheer him up:

“An' over der, if dey doesn't 'ave it, dey can 'ave it made.”

Terry answered laughing:

“You mean to tell me dat, wid all de millions of screws you's got 'ere, I'll be havin' to go an 'ave one made?”

Unphased, Serge also managed a laugh:

“Yes sir, an' it'll even cost ya tree or four dollars . . .”

The two men took a moment to catch their breath, and for Terry to face the facts:

“An' where are dey at, den, Maritime Fasteners?”

“On Collishaw. Ask to talk to Ulysse, ee knows hardware inside out.

Page 13. Understand the capitalist system thoroughly. Always remember that you are always dealing with someone trying to sell you something. Selling and reselling inevitably lead to the loss of any sense of value. The notion of imperfect markets.

“Der's rumours running round dat de Babar an' Terry's bookstore're gonna be shuttin' down.”

“Well, for 'eaven's sake! If der's one person who'd know if der was sometin' goin' on, 'twould be me!”

“Dat's wot I's tinkin' as well. An' I can't tink dey'd be separatin' or nuttin' like dat.”

“Dose two?! No way! No, an' de wee one, isn't she de cutest ting?! I tell you, I'd swallow 'er up whole!”

“Strange, doh, de way she don't talk much, eh? Me sister's got a boy dat same age an' ee never stops comin' out wid new words.”

“Children doesn't all develop de same.”

“I knows it. Would you say Carm's de motherly type?”

Bildungsroman? Kunstleroman?

“Dat gizmo's no good at all. Won't do de job 'tall.”

“Well, de water comes out. Isn't dat wot she's supposed to do?”

The worker lifted his cap, and scratched the top of his head. Was he going to abandon the job? Laugh at me?

“Ought to be comin' out like gangbusters. De way she's workin' now, we'd still be 'ere a week from Tursday.”

“Awh.”

On the refrigerator door, a newspaper photo of Marianne and Renardi, Dieppe's mascot for the Canada Day celebrations. The caption states that she is two years old.

“Der a fellow 'ere by de name of Ulysse?”

“Ee's not in yet.”

“Awh. Wot time does ee come in usually?”

“Well, ee oughtta be 'ere by now.”

Terry could hear the irritation in the response. The clerk added:

“Ee 'ad to drive 'is wife to work.”

Terry figured the wait would be short. But after 10 minutes, unable to endure it any longer, he thought perhaps the fellow behind the counter might be able to help him just as well. He brought his tiny screw out:

“I's lookin' fer a screw like dis' 'ere.”

Busy putting away a thick and heavy catalogue, the employee glanced in Terry's direction, but did not immediately see the screw. A few seconds later, he exclaimed:

“Lard tunderin'! Dat's de tiniest screw I ever saw!”

“Dat explains how come I went an' lost one . . .”

“Where does she go, den?”

“On me wife's defibrillator.”

“De wot?”

“You know, de razors dat tear out 'er hairs rawder dan cuttin' dem.”

“Der's such a ting as dat?”

Terry's cynicism was mounting:

“You doesn't 'ave a wife o' your own to be askin' dat.”

But the fellow was not lacking in nerve:

“An' wot was you tinkin' takin' apart a machine like dat, I wonder?”

All things considered, the Spanish language is yellow.

“Terry thinks when he's sleeping.”

There wasn't much that Étienne could say about Terry that could surprise Chico.

“Wot does ee tink about?”

. . .

“Eh? Wot's ee tinkin' about?”

“The Deportation.”

“Wot's dat?”

. . .

“Eh? Wot's dat?”

Explanations.

Ulysse, who had finally showed up, proceeded more methodically:

“If I were you, I'd send the machine back to the manufacturer or to his designated repairer.”

Terry was slightly surprised by the man's formal manner, and by the expression “designated repairer,” although he had no trouble understanding it. He replied:

“Der's no one fixes dem 'round 'ere. I'd be sendin' it to Ontario. Dat's why I was tinkin' I'd do 'er meself, 'twould be less complicated.”

Ulysse cocked an eye at Terry, thereby expressing his doubts on the ability of ordinary mortals to repair sophisticated devices. Terry wasn't going to allow himself to be overawed.

“Awh, I know I fixed 'er. Only I lost one o' de screws dat fastens de cover.”

Ulysse looked squarely at Terry now, and then pulled an obese catalogue from below the counter. Terry immediately noticed that the man seemed to know exactly where to look among the hundreds of pages filled with columns of letters and numbers identifying a multitude of machines and their derivatives.

“How many are you goin' to be wantin' den?”

Terry hesitated.

“I were you, I'd take two. It's two dollars more for the second one.”

“An' de first one, 'ow much is dat one?”

“Four.”

Ulysse did a rapid tattoo on the keys of his calculator:

“That would come to six dollars and 86 cents in all. You'd have it in ten days at the most. We'll call you when it comes in.”