Fish Change Direction in Cold Weather Read online

  ‘I thought it was Dad who was supposed to stay here.’

  I kept my tone cold, as if I didn’t care. My mum, who knows me, spoke gently.

  ‘The friend whose apartment I’m moving into was supposed to move into another place, but the renovations—’

  ‘I know. They’re not finished and that’s why Dad is going to the cottage.’

  They looked at each other. My mum made a face, my dad lowered his eyes. I didn’t feel like being nice. I didn’t like the fact they’d decided everything without me.

  ‘Whose idea was it?’

  ‘What idea?’

  ‘To split up?’

  They both had stupid looks on their faces. After all, as a rule, there’s always one who does the leaving. They stared at each other for a long while. Judging by their expressions I could tell that if they didn’t answer it was because both of them had had the idea.

  ‘It’s an amicable separation. We both feel the same way.’

  They go and tell me they’re splitting up, but they keep saying they agreed on it. When you agree with someone, it means you love them. And when you love someone, you stay together.

  ‘And what if I don’t feel the way you do?’

  My dad was more surprised by my answer than Mum was. He looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time. On the other hand, I could tell my mum was annoyed. She tried to stay gentle, but she didn’t manage it.

  ‘I realise this is making you unhappy, my darling, but these are problems between grown-ups. When a man and a woman decide to split up . . . That’s life. It happens to a lot of people.’

  ‘But there’s three of us!’

  My dad put his hand on my mum’s. It was his turn to speak now.

  ‘Your mother is right, it will be better for everyone.’

  ‘But I’m better with both of you.’

  ‘You’ll still be happy.’

  ‘I could be even happier.’

  They should have just kept their mouths shut. I couldn’t understand how they could say that to me. How could they imagine that I’d be happier without the two of them there together? I got the impression that they knew I was hurting, but they didn’t want me to show it, so that they wouldn’t feel bad. They were only thinking about themselves. As if it was all right for them to split up just because other people do. My dad got up and switched on the radio.

  ‘Thousands of households in Quebec are without electricity, due to the freezing rain that has been falling for several hours . . .’

  I spat my cereal back out. What was the sky doing now? I just wanted it to help me! I should never have counted on it. I stood up.

  ‘I’m going to be late!’

  My parents didn’t say anything. They didn’t feel like talking any more. I kissed them the way I had every morning, in my former life. I didn’t want to start thinking that this was the last time I would have both of them there with me. It would only have set me off crying again. I just had time to overhear what my mother said as she was getting ready to leave.

  ‘Give him time to digest the news . . . He has to find his own way through it.’

  I rushed off to school. Well, not too fast, because it was really hard to stay on your feet. Alex was in a cheerful mood. He couldn’t stop running ahead then sliding on the ice.

  ‘My dad won’t believe this when he wakes up.’

  It’s true, it was a strange sight. A fine layer of ice covered the ground. The cars looked like they’d been wrapped in Cellophane, like sweets. An old lady coming out of the retirement home fell over right in front of us. Alex burst out laughing. I didn’t laugh.

  ‘It’s not funny.’

  ‘She didn’t have far to fall, she didn’t hurt herself . . . Look, she’s getting back up. Or at least she’s trying.’

  ‘I should never have done it . . .’

  Alex didn’t know what I was talking about.

  ‘Did you bring your video camera?’

  I hesitated to tell him about my parents and the sky.

  ‘If you didn’t bring your video camera I’ll be angry.’

  ‘I have it, Alex, don’t worry.’

  ‘Shit, I can’t wait to see it! It’s going to be awesome!’

  Someone who didn’t think it was awesome was the educational director. There were at least ten of us gathered around the video camera. She couldn’t see anything because the screen’s so small, but she could hear all right. You couldn’t help but hear. Everyone was shouting the same thing, and laughing.

  ‘Show us her boobs!’

  ‘Show us her boobs!’

  ‘Show us her boobs!’

  Eventually she saw them too. But it didn’t make her laugh.

  ‘Have you given any thought to this woman’s dignity, while you go around showing her naked to the entire school, and she isn’t even aware of it?’

  ‘You see lots of them on television, Miss, and besides, she doesn’t know! We just won’t tell her.’

  Why make a fuss? The educational director looked up at the ceiling, sighing with exasperation.

  ‘Only in secondary one and already a misogynist!’

  She must have been one of those women who fight for respect and sexual equality for women, so she obviously didn’t like Alex. She thought he’d come to a bad end, she’d already told him as much. She turned to me.

  ‘But this isn’t like you, not with parents like yours.’

  The last thing I wanted was to let down my best friend, and I really didn’t want to talk about my parents.

  ‘Couldn’t you find anything better to film?’

  ‘No, Miss.’

  ‘Why can’t you be like a normal kid and film your friends, your parents, your pet . . . Make up a story . . . Free your creativity so that your inner child can blossom . . . But what you’ve done here is just disgusting! Poor woman . . . To think that even in this day and age we are reduced to this!’

  Alex is never smart at times like this. Instead of doing what I did and looking down with a sad expression, to let the storm blow over, he started laughing like a moron.

  ‘Whose stupid idea was it?’

  She was on her feet, leaning against her desk, and she didn’t take her eyes off Alex. I was wondering why she had asked, if she already knew the answer. Alex leaned forward, guilty no matter what.

  ‘It wasn’t him, Miss!’ I cried.

  The educational director was startled, and turned to face me. Alex looked at me too; he didn’t know what was going on. Between us there had been a sort of pact: he may have been the one who dealt most of the blows, but he knew how to take a few as well.

  ‘Yes, it was my idea, Miss.’

  ‘Are you afraid of Alex?’

  ‘No, Miss.’

  ‘You mustn’t be afraid here; you can speak the truth. If you’ve been a victim of intimidation, you have to tell me.’

  ‘I’m telling you that it was my idea, Miss. I’m the one who talked him into it.’

  Maybe that was going a little too far. Alex burst out laughing. He can never keep it in, especially when it’s important. The educational director looked at us, trying to judge the situation. You could tell, even when he was sitting down, that Alex was a full head taller and at least fifteen kilos heavier than me. It was strange: there were three of us there and we all knew I was lying. She gave me a really nasty look.

  ‘You want to play this little game with me?’

  It wasn’t that I wanted to play. I wanted to feel hurt, and then even more hurt. So that I’d stop feeling the hurt from my parents’ separation. Alex looked at me. His eyes were telling me that he didn’t mind taking the rap. He was used to it. But he didn’t get it. I hadn’t told him anything. The educational director started to walk back to her desk.

  ‘Since that’s the way it is, I’ll ask your parents to come in. I’m warning you, you’re risking a temporary suspension. Maybe they’ll be able to tell me who this is on the video. In the meantime the camera stays here.’

  She sat down
at her desk and picked up the phone. She pointed at Alex.

  ‘What’s your home number?’

  ‘My dad’s still asleep!’

  ‘Oh, of course, how could I forget . . .’

  She said it in a nasty way. Alex is a pretty tough kid, but you could tell it hurt him. Adults can be really mean when they don’t understand a kid. She turned to me.

  ‘Your number?’

  ‘I don’t remember.’

  Alex looked at me as if he didn’t recognise me. He’d always been the tough guy. Even I was wondering if I was still the same person. The educational director turned to a big bookshelf behind her.

  ‘Since you think you’re so smart . . .’

  While she was looking up our numbers in her files, Alex edged closer to me. It was as if he didn’t like me following the same path as him. In life you often prefer people who are the exact opposite of you. But for once we were both going to pay. I was waiting for it to start hurting.

  Drrrring!

  The educational director picked up the phone, but kept looking at us. You could see in her eyes that the hour of execution had only been postponed for the duration of a phone call. She was listening, and she looked annoyed. She turned towards the window.

  ‘Oh? And it’s not about to end? There’s supposed to be more?’

  She gazed at us, but she wasn’t there any more.

  ‘Oh dear, what a bad way to start the year!’

  She hung up. She looked at my video camera for a moment, but it no longer seemed to interest her. It was as if she were lost, somehow. She picked up the phone – she needed help.

  ‘Geneviève! Get on the PA system and make an announcement that the school will be closing at noon. The children who have permission to go home on their own can leave. As for the others, we’ll have to call their parents, one by one. You take secondary one, two and five, I’ll take three and four. Good luck!’

  She hung up and looked at her watch, horrified at the thought of the hundreds of calls she had to make.

  ‘It’s going to take hours . . .’

  We weren’t surprised when she motioned to us to stand up. She shoved the video camera into one of her desk drawers. She didn’t even look at us, just waved her hand as if to brush us away.

  ‘Because of this wretched ice I don’t have time to deal with your nonsense. Go back to class, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow. Go on, out of here!’

  In the corridor, Alex stared at me for a long time, still in shock.

  ‘Was that lucky or what!’

  ‘It wasn’t luck.’

  ‘I never have any luck, so for once when I do, believe me, I know what it is!’

  ‘It’s not luck . . .’

  ‘I tell you, it was luck!’

  ‘It’s because of me.’

  ‘It’s not because of you, it’s because of the ice.’

  ‘And the ice is because of me.’

  I had to lift my head because he was looking down at me.

  ‘How’d you do that?’

  ‘I asked the sky to help me.’

  ‘Asked the sky to help you . . . Is there something wrong with your brain?’

  ‘Yeah, there’s something wrong.’

  He was still looking down at me, only not from quite as high.

  ‘So why did you do that?’

  ‘Problems with my parents . . .’

  He wasn’t looking down at me at all any more. As usual, he didn’t ask any questions. He wanted to bring me back to my senses without hurting me. All it takes is one look to know what the other person is thinking. He put his hand on my shoulder, then he shook me gently, reassuringly.

  ‘Hey man! Your problems can’t be that bad.’

  WHEN SHIT HAPPENS, HUMAN NATURE SHOWS ITS TRUE FACE

  Boris Bogdanov was scared. He stared out of the window at the sky and then turned to look at his aquarium. He went out onto the kitchen balcony to check the electricity cables in the alleyway. They were sagging perilously under the weight of the ice. Would they hold?

  He knew that without electricity he would not be able to keep his aquarium at a temperature of thirty-two degrees for very long. He went back to the sitting room and turned on the television.

  ‘The forecast for this afternoon is for freezing rain. There is a chance of power cuts for Montreal and the entire region . . .’

  Boris Bogdanov didn’t want to hear any more. Click. He sat down across from his aquarium and stared at it for a long time, rubbing his chin, a sign that he was deep in thought. He bent down and picked up the first sheet of paper lying on the floor. One side was filled with calculations. The other side was blank. He grabbed a ruler and a pencil from the desk and quickly drew an isometric view of the aquarium. He measured its exact format. It took only a few calculations to work out the volume. For the likes of Boris Bogdanov, calculations like this are to a mathematician what hip-swivels are to a dancer: routine.

  Then Boris Bogdanov went on to some thermal calculations. He drew a table and carefully noted the time it would take for the aquarium to cool, given the ambient temperature.

  He was able to define an algorithm to determine the amount, and the temperature, of the water he would have to add to the aquarium if the temperature began to drop. If he removed one litre of water at thirty-one degrees, he would have to fill it with four hundred and fifty-nine millilitres at ninety-eight degrees for the entire aquarium to return to thirty-two degrees. He went on with his calculations, including the possible range of atmospheric pressure, if the water were to fall to twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven, twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three, or twenty-two degrees. He didn’t have the courage to imagine anything below that.

  ‘Nyet . . . Nyet . . . Nyet . . .’

  The excellent thing about Russians is that they know how to do without. Boris had lived in Russia for seventeen years. The first ten years of his life had coincided with the last decade of the communist regime. Doing without was something he was familiar with. But even better, like any Russian who’s in deep shit, he knew how to get by in a precarious situation, in an emergency. Everything he needed was clearly stated in his list: a thermometer, a camping stove and as many canisters of gas as possible.

  Boris Bogdanov was not alone in the aisles of Canada Dépôt, the giant home and garden supply centre. A lot of people were stocking up. People who’d already lost power mingled with people who might be about to lose it. And everyone was heading for the same shelves. Some were satisfied with certain bare essentials. Others, driven by fear, felt an irresistible need to stock up in massive quantities, even if that meant depriving their neighbours of their bare essentials. Boris Bogdanov completely emptied the shelf of little gas canisters. He took all the twenty-five they had in stock and rushed to the checkout.

  When shit happens, human nature shows its true face.

  I COULDN’T THINK OF ANYTHING BETTER TO DO

  As we walked down the street, Alex kept giving me looks. For him, that miraculous call the educational director had received was nothing more than pure luck. When the school emptied out, he just scratched his head. But I could see he was really blown away when the ambulance arrived at the school with its siren going. We were still there, so we saw everything. I have to admit I felt kind of bad to see the educational director flat out on her stomach on the stretcher. She was moaning and the paramedic was trying to comfort her.

  ‘I just hope it’s only a fracture, but by the sound of the pain you’re in, I’m afraid you might have broken your coccyx.’

  That was no comfort at all. She moaned even louder. She suddenly seemed so fragile, not at all the way she’d been in her office. Fortunately she didn’t hear the students spreading the news. Everyone had forgotten that it was because she’d wanted to help sprinkle sand on the ice so that none of the children would slip and hurt themselves that she herself had slipped.

  ‘The educational director broke her bum!’

  ‘The educational director broke her bum!’


  ‘The educational director broke her bum!’

  Children are cruel, I know. Alex didn’t say anything; he was too busy looking at me every five seconds. He was really puzzled, I could tell. We went home, not saying anything. The sky wasn’t exactly helping me the way I wanted, but it had heard me, that much was obvious, which gave me hope. When we got to our street, I saw that my front door was open. A suitcase appeared, then another. My dad came next. Hope hadn’t lasted long.

  ‘What are you two doing here?’

  ‘School’s closed ’cause of the ice. Didn’t you hear?’

  ‘No, I haven’t really had time to listen to the news this morning.’

  I looked at my dad. I could see in his eyes that he really didn’t want me there to witness his departure. In moments like these you just say what you can. He went first.

  ‘I suppose you’ll use the time to do your homework?’

  ‘We didn’t even have time to get any, Dad.’

  ‘That’s lucky . . .’

  When he heard the word, Alex seemed to return to his senses. My dad grabbed his two suitcases.

  ‘I have to get going, apparently it’s pretty rough on the roads . . . Give Mum a kiss for me.’

  Give Mum a kiss for him! He bent over me. I clung to him. I could see his hands squeezing the handles of the cases, so tightly they trembled. It can’t be easy to leave. He hurried off to load the car, not looking at me – or rather, he didn’t want me to see him. He started the engine right away. As he pulled out, the tyres skidded on the ice. He disappeared around the corner. Alex looked away.

  ‘They’re splitting up, huh?’

  I didn’t know what to say. Alex could tell I was holding back my tears. He was sorry he’d asked. He took a few steps back; even tough guys sometimes know how to be soft.

  ‘I’m going home . . . That was awesome, your trick with the educational director. You’re brilliant! The best!’

  He said that to make me happy. He didn’t believe a word of it. I think that in his shoes I wouldn’t have believed it either.