What am I doing here? I lost consciousness. I closed my front door, making sure my dog didn’t run out of the apartment. The next moment, I have half my face in dry earth. I look around me. I understand that I am lying in the crawl space under my apartment. My ankle took on double its size. Electric shocks. A pain that reminds me of the jellyfish that wrapped around my knee when I was fifteen. An oven lit in the sea. I screamed in my prepubescent voice, completely hopeless and helpless. My cousin was next to me with his diving goggles. He put his head under the water and then shouted, “You’re getting eaten by a jellyfish, man!” » I saw him take off, swimming at full speed. At that time, the achievements of Michael Phelps didn’t exist yet, but I thought, “This guy could go to the Olympics.” » I look up to see if Louis-Jean is in the crawl space with me. That would be strange, it’s been years since I’ve seen him. I still imagine him coming out of the darkness, smiling at me. I imagine him gently lifting my left leg and whispering: “Shit, you didn’t miss me, cousin!” » I look ahead. Louis-Jean is not there. I notice the last two broken steps of the crawl space staircase. I whisper, “Did I do that with my foot?” » A man comes down at full speed. He has a small head, all white and wrinkled. I try to get up, but he shouts: “Don’t move! Do not move ! » He asks me what my name is. He has little curly hair. Her lips are very thin. It looks like a puppet. He looks at me with wide eyes: “I’m sorry, I left the trap door open… I’m doing some work at the moment. » I look up through the skylight. I see part of my front door. I hear my dog barking outside the door. I said, “Why didn’t you close it?” » He looks at me with a pitiful look. He looks like Professor Calculus. My ankle is burning, I feel it swelling. Tryphon the scientist undoes his tool belt then examines my body. I’m not bleeding. Tournesol said to me: “You were lucky… You could have been paralyzed… or died. » I don’t answer. Worried, he asked me: “Are you sure you’re okay?” Do you want me to call an ambulance? » My glasses are full of dust. I have dirt in my mouth. Tournesol asks me: “What are you thinking about? » I sigh, letting out a little nervous laugh: “To a jellyfish. »
*****
I was born on a Tuesday. I was born with black hair. I didn’t scream or cry. I was laid on my back. I remember it like it was yesterday. I thought, “What the hell am I doing here?” » In kindergarten, my dancing rope was stolen. I don’t think I ever got over it. In high school music class, I pretended to play the clarinet for an entire session. During the final evaluation, when we had to play a complete score solo, I felt very stupid for having done that. I started getting good grades in CEGEP. Before going to university, I did theater. I auditioned at the Montreal Conservatory performing Caligula by Albert Camus. I completely screwed up the audition. I only remember the last line. In a final gasp, Caligula, laughing and moaning, screams: “I am still alive. » Véro, the friend who gave me the answer, told me: “Things happen. » Then, I studied literature. I lasted two years there. During class, I drank beer from a coffee cup. I made the decision to leave college over a plate of pasta at Mike’s. I said to my girlfriend at the time: “I don’t think school is for me. » Then I worked in a park for seven years. I took care of cleaning the toilets and taking the little ones out bums who drank beer late at night. I didn’t learn to write novels, poems and screenplays in universities. I learned to write by reading books. I should have paid for my library card, it would have saved me money. I could have bought myself a nice car with that.
*****
My father pushes my wheelchair into the elevator. He said to me: “Worse? » I answer: “Fractured ankle.” » Outside, it’s snowing. Candle-shaped flakes, like knives descending towards our heads. I’m cold. The wheels of the chair no longer move forward. They hit a pile of ice on the sidewalk. My father asks me if I’m correct. I imagine Louis-Jean laughing at me. I think of the warm sand of this beach. I answer: “I am still alive. »