March 21 2008
Written in Sainte-Adèle; setting is
Blainville, Quebec, north of Montreal
On the way to
work in the morning, after the second intermunicipal bus I still have a
half hour walk to the office, through the residential area of the town.
Along the way I pass by occasional schoolchildren, alone or in pairs,
standing beside the snowbanks in front of their houses or at street
corners, waiting for the morning schoolbus to come pick them up.
At one point I pass
the same two girls every day. They are about twelve or thirteen years of
age I would say, they look like nice girls, pretty and healthy, and
judging from their evidently intimate conversations as I pass by, they
may be best friends.
One is a bit short
for her age, the other a bit tall, the shorter girl wears a black winter
coat, the taller girl a deep pink one, a colour I think they call
fuschia.
This winter has been exceptionally long and cold and
with an incredible accumulation of snowfall, and in mornings when the
temperature is -20 or colder I pass by their spot at a very fast walk or
even a run, keeping up the speed to keep myself warm. But the two girls
never look cold, they stand calmly by their corner, kicking snow or
drawing delicate pictures in the snowbank with their mittens,
concentrated on their conversation with the same ease and poise as they
might on a warm day of spring. More than once I have said to myself : It
is freezing out, why don’t they look cold?
After I had passed
by a few times I thought I had summed up the most obvious difference in
their personalities. The girl in pink was cheerful and talkative, the
girl in black was quiet and pensive and maybe even sad. But she was
fortunate to have her friend, for the girl in pink was apparently making
generous and valiant efforts to cheer and encourage her; while the girl
in black stood motionless, pale and eyes downcast, the girl in pink,
with her rosy cheeks, recounted funny and animated stories, or I
couldn’t hear much as I passed but you could tell she was being funny.
The girl in pink
not only had cheerful stories to relate, she was acting them out
physically, gesturing and moving about and sometimes almost dancing on
the spot. But her downcast friend wouldn’t laugh, she stood still and
sad while yet listening carefully to her dear friend, but her heart
would not be cheered.
It wasn’t just a
time or two, I saw it again and again as I have to go by there every
day, that’s why I thought it wasn’t just a passing mood, but a
difference deeper in their lives or personalities.
This
continued for some weeks, the animated rosy-cheeked girl in pink, and
the pale pretty girl in black with sandy hair, looking down at her feet.
Maybe her mother is ill or something; who
knows.
But I guess I had
it wrong. Because one day I passed them by, and what do you know but the
personalities have been reversed. The tall girl in pink is down, she is
really down, she is motionless in the cold. And the girl in black? She
is trying to cheer her friend, she is dancing on the spot, she is
telling such a funny story. And next time I pass? The same thing, and
the same after that. Something has happened to sadden the girl in pink,
and maybe the girl in black is happy now because she needs to be,
because her friend is sad and she needs to cheer her
up.