How do you feel about meeting your father, Bartholomew?” Father McNamee said, while examining his soup.
I didn’t know how to answer.
In my mind and heart, my father had been dead for years, and there was a part of me, deep down inside where the tiny man lives, that wanted to keep it that way.
Another part of me still didn’t believe that meeting my father was even a possibility, although Father McNamee seemed very confident, and he had never lied to me before.
Cat Parliament in two fucking days, right?” Max said.
Yes,” Father said, nodded, and looked out the window at the heavily bundled people passing by on the sidewalk.
The waiter returned and said, “Lapin.”
Four plates were put in front of us.
Meat covered in tan gravy, peas, and carrots.
Bon appétit,” the waiter said and then left.
We all began to eat, and the meat was tender and flavorful and seemed to melt like butter in my mouth.
What is this?” Elizabeth asked after swallowing.
Rabbit,” Father said. “Do you like it?”
Elizabeth gagged, spit the food from her mouth, and ran out of the restaurant.
I chased after her.
She was retching over the mound of snow piled between the street and the sidewalk, so I held her hair and rubbed her back, just like Mom used to do for me whenever I was sick as a little boy. The entire restaurant watched us through the window.
Max and Father McNamee came out next, and Father said, “Are you okay?”
Elizabeth nodded and said, “I just need some air. Leave me alone, please. Please!”
When she began to walk down the street, Father said, “Follow her, Bartholomew!”
Me?” I said.
What the fuck, hey, Elizabeth!” Max yelled. “This is a free meal. Isn’t it time you fucking got over this?”
Father smiled, winked, and said, “This is your big chance. Go.”
It’s snowing in Old Montreal. How beautiful! you, Richard Gere, said. Suddenly you were there, bundled up in a leather coat and a plaid scarf, smiling at me, your eyes twinkling like my new tektite crystal. Use the charm of the moment! Step into the romance of now! You can make The Girlbrarian fall in love with you! Look around. This town is loaded with charm! Use it, big guy!
She doesn’t like to be called The Girlbrarian,” I said to you as I rushed after Elizabeth.
Doesn’t matter, big guy. What matters is that you’re going to be alone with the girl of your dreams in Old Montreal as the snow falls gently all around you. Love is imminent. You cannot fail. This is your moment. The Dalai Lama says be compassionate and all will work out for the best. Just be kind. It’s time for love. This is the perfect moment. Give her the fairy tale!
She’s sick! She just threw up in a snowbank!”
That’s The Good Luck of Right Now, right?
The bad that will lead to good!
The flip side of the same coin.
The universe is sending you a sign. The universe has put you in this exact position for a reason. Now is your moment, Bartholomew. The Good Luck of Right Now! Remember your mother’s philosophy. What would she tell you? What would your mother tell us?
You looked so proud of me, Richard Gere, and I wondered how you found me in Canada—but then I remembered the letters I had written you, explaining where I was going. Your coming and helping me—especially knowing how busy you are with your acting and official Dalai Lama business—it means so, so much to me that I almost started to cry.
Thank you, Richard Gere.
Thank you one million times.
With a friend like you, I felt that I truly couldn’t fail to impress Elizabeth now.
Cool tektite crystal, you said to me when you noticed it bouncing against my coat zipper as I ran down the sidewalk after Elizabeth, trying not to slip on ice.
Thanks,” I said.
You winked and nodded, gave me the thumbs-up with your expensive-looking leather glove—and then you vanished like a ghost.
When I caught up to Elizabeth, I could tell she was still upset, so I walked next to her for seven or so city blocks, catching my breath and allowing her to walk off her bad energy, like I had done before with Father McNamee.
I decided to wait until she spoke first, before saying anything.
When we reached the Saint Lawrence River, Elizabeth stopped and said, “Max wanted me to make sure you have your tektite crystal on at all times.”
Yes,” I said, patting it with my glove. “I haven’t taken it off since he gave it to me.”
She pulled another leather necklace out of her coat pocket and said, “Max says put this one on too. You’ve worked up to it, wearing the first for more than twenty-four hours now, and my brother’s research suggests that alien abductions increase near rivers. So you will benefit from extra protection, according to Max.”
I took the extra tektite crystal and dutifully put it around my neck. It was hard to do with winter gloves on, but I managed.
We stood there silently for a time.
Then Elizabeth said, “You probably think I’m insane, acting the way I did back there.”
No,” I said.
Yes.” She peered up at me from under her beautiful eyebrows, through her wispy curtain of brown hair that was now hanging down from within a homemade-looking purple knit hat.
I bit my bottom lip and shook my head.
We looked out over the river for what seemed like a half hour.
Finally, she said, “You may think this is a stupid sentimental explanation, but I used to keep rabbits when I was a little girl. My mom bought them to breed and sell, but the guy who sold them to us lied and we soon found out both of our rabbits were male. Mom quickly lost interest, like she always did, or was too lazy to find a female. She ignored them, began to pretend they didn’t exist, probably because her pride kept her embarrassed about being duped. So I made the neglected rabbits into pets and loved them. Adored them. Talked to them. Even stole food for them from a nearby farm. Told them my secrets, whispering into their long, velvety ears for hours and hours.”
I didn’t know what to say, even though this obviously explained why she threw up.
It made me feel so sad.
Max never loved them as much as I did,” she said, and began to walk along the river.
I nodded and followed.
Are you ever going to talk?” Elizabeth said.
Yes.”
Say something.”
Something.”
Not funny.”
I wasn’t trying to be funny, so I felt ashamed. And then I could feel the little man in my stomach laughing at me, rolling around in my belly, crying tears of merriment even, because I was failing so horrifically.
We walked on for a block or so.
Then she said, “My rabbits’ names were Pooky and Moo Moo. They loved lettuce more than carrots. You’d think rabbits would love carrots best, but not these two. Maybe they were strange rabbits.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Max, he loves cats,” she said.
Somehow I found my voice and said, “Yes, he does. Was Alice a good cat?”
She was a doll. But she was Max’s cat, not mine. Pooky and Moo Moo were mine. There will never be another Pooky or another Moo Moo.”
Mom was mine,” I said before I could really think about what I meant. “There will never be another Mom for me either. She was one of a kind.”
You really loved your mother?”
Yes. Did you love yours?”
I hated her. I used to fantasize about killing her in her sleep. Slitting her throat with a steak knife—sometimes I’d imagine dragging the blade across her entire neck, making a huge red smile. And other times I’d just stab her jugular repeatedly. Sorry. I know that’s pretty sick. But, oh, how I wanted to kill my mother when I was a little girl!”
Why?”
A million reasons. Infinite reasons.”
We walked for a few more blocks, gloved hands in pockets.
My mother killed Pooky and Moo Moo and fed them to me when I was just a child.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
She told me what I was eating only after I had finished. Like she was delivering the punch line to a joke, she told me with a grin on her face. You cannot imagine the guilt. I felt Pooky and Moo Moo inside me, trying to hop out of my stomach, for months. She made keychains out of the feet and gave me one as a present the following Christmas. I screamed when I opened it and began to cry. She called me peculiar and ungrateful and spoiled and weak and silly. Then she laughed at me and told Max his sister was sentimental. She actually used that word. Sentimental. As if it were a character flaw. Like it was horrible to feel. To admit that you missed things. To care. To love even.”
How old were you?”
Seven.”