and a bowl on the table. Kay’s left me a note on the back of a bulletin for the Shelton Volunteer Fire Department Lobster Supper. Her handwriting is all neat and perfect.
Hi Opal,
I didn’t wake you up because you looked awful beat. I’ve gone to do some errands. Here’s some cereal. There’s tea over on the stove. If you want to go into town, there’s a bike in the shed. Just turn right on the 109 and take Exit 17 into Shelton. It should take you about twenty minutes. Don’t worry about locking up.
Have a nice day!
Kay
I smile at her note and pour myself a huge bowl of cornflakes. They’re a bit stale but whatever. It’s probably the best breakfast I ever had.
I put the kettle on for some tea. Grandpa likes tea. I pour myself another bowl of cornflakes. I wonder where Kay keeps the television. I look around. I glance past the window and see an old lawn chair sitting in the sun.
It’s so not-me but I get this urge to go outside. I remember staying somewhere with Mom that had chairs like that—the bent metal ones with the woven plastic seats that leave criss-crosses on your thighs that make them look like uncooked danishes. Where would Mimi ever have gone that had junky stuff like that? I don’t know. All I remember is a little cabin on a lake. It was dark and kind of smelly inside but not in a bad way. The furniture was old and squeaky. No one was around except Mom and me.
And Dad. Dad was there too. It must have been during one of their little reconciliations. I was about eight. We sat around on the deck, swatting mosquitoes and doing this huge jigsaw puzzle of some castle with swans out front. We were so happy.
We canoed. We sunbathed. We swam. We had to push Dad in every time because he said the water was too cold. It was cold, but Mom and I didn’t mind. Skinny little Mimi didn’t mind. We swam and swam and swam and then we made a fire in the big old stone fireplace.
And Mom cooked! I mean, nothing fancy, but it was better than that old “Eating Like a Birdie” stuff. She made tea biscuits and pea soup and these delicious molasses pancake things, too. What did she call them? She had some weird name for them. Lassie tootins.That was it. Lassie , like molasses. I don’t know what tootin means but I’m pretty sure that’s what she called them.
Am I making this up?
It almost seems too good to be true. Unless I’m totally nuts, I think we even sang songs around the fire. Funny songs. Back then, at the cabin, Mom was as funny in real life as she is on TV.
How did those songs go?
All I remember is something about “ underpants and my friend Hans. ”
Okay, it doesn’t seem that hysterical now, but back then I was rolling on the floor, laughing and laughing and laughing. Mom had tears streaming down her face too and Dad kept adding these heavy metal guitar licks that were so totally wrong. It completely cracked us up.
I’m going outside.
I hike up my pyjama bottoms with my elbows, grab the bowl of cornflakes and the teacup and back out through the screen door. It’s actually almost warm. Not Antigua warm or even Bermuda warm but nice. I feel good.
I put my cup on the ground. I stretch out in the chair so I can rest my bowl on my belly. I lean my face back into the sun.
That’s when I notice Levi Nauss looking down at me from the top of a ladder.
15
Sunday, Noon
You, You and Mimi (rerun)
“No Pain, No Gain.” Mimi’s on-air exercise club never caught on with viewers. It’s easy to see why. Everyone knows Mimi’s figure owes more to surgery than sit-ups.
Kay was wrong. It doesn’t take twenty minutes to get to Shelton by bike. It takes at least forty minutes—even when you’re pedalling like a maniac because all you can think about is escaping as fast as you can.
What’s the matter with me? I’ve got to stop screaming every time I see that guy. He’s going to think I’m emotionally unstable or something.
But it’s his fault! He shouldn’t have snuck up on me like
Hi Opal,
I didn’t wake you up because you looked awful beat. I’ve gone to do some errands. Here’s some cereal. There’s tea over on the stove. If you want to go into town, there’s a bike in the shed. Just turn right on the 109 and take Exit 17 into Shelton. It should take you about twenty minutes. Don’t worry about locking up.
Have a nice day!
Kay
I smile at her note and pour myself a huge bowl of cornflakes. They’re a bit stale but whatever. It’s probably the best breakfast I ever had.
I put the kettle on for some tea. Grandpa likes tea. I pour myself another bowl of cornflakes. I wonder where Kay keeps the television. I look around. I glance past the window and see an old lawn chair sitting in the sun.
It’s so not-me but I get this urge to go outside. I remember staying somewhere with Mom that had chairs like that—the bent metal ones with the woven plastic seats that leave criss-crosses on your thighs that make them look like uncooked danishes. Where would Mimi ever have gone that had junky stuff like that? I don’t know. All I remember is a little cabin on a lake. It was dark and kind of smelly inside but not in a bad way. The furniture was old and squeaky. No one was around except Mom and me.
And Dad. Dad was there too. It must have been during one of their little reconciliations. I was about eight. We sat around on the deck, swatting mosquitoes and doing this huge jigsaw puzzle of some castle with swans out front. We were so happy.
We canoed. We sunbathed. We swam. We had to push Dad in every time because he said the water was too cold. It was cold, but Mom and I didn’t mind. Skinny little Mimi didn’t mind. We swam and swam and swam and then we made a fire in the big old stone fireplace.
And Mom cooked! I mean, nothing fancy, but it was better than that old “Eating Like a Birdie” stuff. She made tea biscuits and pea soup and these delicious molasses pancake things, too. What did she call them? She had some weird name for them. Lassie tootins.That was it. Lassie , like molasses. I don’t know what tootin means but I’m pretty sure that’s what she called them.
Am I making this up?
It almost seems too good to be true. Unless I’m totally nuts, I think we even sang songs around the fire. Funny songs. Back then, at the cabin, Mom was as funny in real life as she is on TV.
How did those songs go?
All I remember is something about “ underpants and my friend Hans. ”
Okay, it doesn’t seem that hysterical now, but back then I was rolling on the floor, laughing and laughing and laughing. Mom had tears streaming down her face too and Dad kept adding these heavy metal guitar licks that were so totally wrong. It completely cracked us up.
I’m going outside.
I hike up my pyjama bottoms with my elbows, grab the bowl of cornflakes and the teacup and back out through the screen door. It’s actually almost warm. Not Antigua warm or even Bermuda warm but nice. I feel good.
I put my cup on the ground. I stretch out in the chair so I can rest my bowl on my belly. I lean my face back into the sun.
That’s when I notice Levi Nauss looking down at me from the top of a ladder.
15
Sunday, Noon
You, You and Mimi (rerun)
“No Pain, No Gain.” Mimi’s on-air exercise club never caught on with viewers. It’s easy to see why. Everyone knows Mimi’s figure owes more to surgery than sit-ups.
Kay was wrong. It doesn’t take twenty minutes to get to Shelton by bike. It takes at least forty minutes—even when you’re pedalling like a maniac because all you can think about is escaping as fast as you can.
What’s the matter with me? I’ve got to stop screaming every time I see that guy. He’s going to think I’m emotionally unstable or something.
But it’s his fault! He shouldn’t have snuck up on me like
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