Читать книгу Fish Change Direction in Cold Weather - Pierre Szalowski - Страница 14

AND I PRAYED TO THE SKY TO HELP ME

My dad got the bean, my mum got the crown, I got nothing. They looked at each other. My dad breathed in, my mum breathed out a sigh.

‘We have something to tell you.’

I didn’t want to hear it, but on they went anyway.

‘We want you to know that your mum and dad love each other very much.’

‘Well . . . still love each other very much.’

‘But, you know, sometimes you love someone, but everyday life gets hard . . . Things change . . . Time passes . . . You’re not the same any more . . .’

This all sounded complicated. My mum paused to catch her breath and at the same time put the crown back on, which had slipped off her head.

‘Sometimes it’s so hard that you can’t live together any more, because it’s just not the way it used to be.’

Friends at school had told me how their parents had broken the news to them. I hardly listened to what came next; I’d already heard it.

‘Your father and I have decided to split up.’

They stared at me, waiting for my reaction. I didn’t move.

‘We decided a month ago, but we didn’t want to spoil Christmas for you.’

I lowered my eyes, so that I wouldn’t have to say thank you. Let’s not get carried away here. I didn’t want to look at them, but I could tell they were looking at each other to see whose turn it was to speak. My mother has always been the more talkative one.

‘You will still have a mummy and daddy, they just won’t live together any more . . . One week you’ll be with Daddy, here. The other week you’ll come to my place. You’ll see, it’ll be almost the same as before. There are lots of children who are very happy living like this . . .’

That would make fourteen of us in the class now who migrated every week. Some of them say it’s cool. I looked up. I was all churned up inside. My mum stared at me. I stared back. She seemed worried.

‘Are you okay? 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.