doubler la une
[I have not been here in a while, guilty as charged, but since I moved, things have been rather hectic. Only now, occupying the apartment as two, am I starting to get remember things like this. And now that I am an evening widow (no spiders or spells, just means my man works late and I am alone), I find myself more compelled by things like this as well...]
My small neighbour (I say small because he is a child, not because he is short - and not to be mistaken with dwarf man across the street) silently came up to me again. Funny, the way kids do that. They are bored, they just sort of walk right up to you, say nothing, and just look at what you are doing. Waiting. Or just happy to be allowed to look.
The first time he came up to me was on one of our rollerblade outings; I was sitting on the ground floor stoop, clipping (not lacing) on my rollerboots while M skated figure 8's in the street, waiting. And there was the kid. Came out of nowhere, in a calm slightly freaky way, and just stood there, looking. He had an eye infection or something, because the left eye was alot smaller than the right, and droopy. He said nothing.
I said "allo" and blurted out how chickenshit I was (he caught me at liftoff, those first few moments when I stand up with the skates, and my legs go in opposite directions as I hold on to the door for dear life; urban bambi, that's me. This moment only lasts about 43 seconds, the time it takes me to get the courage to skate down and over the bumpy curb and be at one with the cars. He caught me at that moment.) He didn't laugh or anything (although, in his place, I would have). He just had a crooked smile, and watched. Saying nothing.
So today, he was back. I thought he lived accross my street, but in fact he is my side neighbour. Second floor apartment after the empty lot (in the block that is really shabby). He said he saw me from his balcony. I was in the back, fixing my bike (at this point, I was still fixing it and not breaking it.) He saw me, so he came down.
He didn't say much. He sort of showed up in the way kids have again, out of nowhere, and stood. He asked me what I was doing (or I told him). Changing the seat on my bike (for a new cushy one designed just for women - that part I did not add). Missing tools. Scrapping the bolt. He asked if I worked. Yes, just got home. He asked me what I did (I guessed meaning my job) I work in this building right here, on the ground floor, and I work in a museum. No expression on his face. He just stood, stared, listened. I asked him what he did (meaning in what grade he was, even if it is the summer). He hesitated. And then he told me he was doubling grade one.
My first reaction (inside) - how do you fail grade one???!!! My second was to be all adult and tell him how important an education was - you get a good education, you get a good job (since he was so curious about what I did, and not even what my name was!) He stared, said nothing. I realized he had probably gotten enough flack from his parents and other kids for being stupid, etc. I think I asked him why he had failed. He said he did not work hard ("j'me suis pas forcé").
At this point, needing the proper tools, I realized I had to go knock on the door of the office and see if my boss had the right instrument to lend me. The kid followed. My boss opened the door, we talked. He stood there beside me, said nothing. Not the least curious about what was going on, who she was, etc. I told him she owned the building. Nothing. I think this kid is in a coma.
We talked a bit more about my bike. I showed him the new seat. He asked why I was changing it. It hurts (my vagina bone!). I showed him the old one and the new one, how cushy it was, told him he could touch. We talked about my (sister's teenagehood) circa1990 mint green splatterpaint bike. How old it was. My neigbour is 7. I told him I thought the turquoise on the seat would match the colour of the bike (no) and asked if he thought it mattered that they were not the same colour. We (I) concluded aloud that it didn't matter, as long as the seat was comfortable. He said it hurt him too when he rode a bike (oh god, doesn't he even have one???) since he does not ride one often. He asked exactly how much time it took when riding my bike for it to hurt. This is a hilarious question.
Finally, I had to go buy the tool, I told the kid I had to go. I started walking up the metal stairs to my place to get my things. He followed me for two steps up, stopped, and said "ca dérange pas s'y sont pas d'la même couleur" and smiled.
When I left by car, he was crossing from one side of our street to the other. I bought a tool at the hardware store a few minutes later.
My small neighbour (I say small because he is a child, not because he is short - and not to be mistaken with dwarf man across the street) silently came up to me again. Funny, the way kids do that. They are bored, they just sort of walk right up to you, say nothing, and just look at what you are doing. Waiting. Or just happy to be allowed to look.
The first time he came up to me was on one of our rollerblade outings; I was sitting on the ground floor stoop, clipping (not lacing) on my rollerboots while M skated figure 8's in the street, waiting. And there was the kid. Came out of nowhere, in a calm slightly freaky way, and just stood there, looking. He had an eye infection or something, because the left eye was alot smaller than the right, and droopy. He said nothing.
I said "allo" and blurted out how chickenshit I was (he caught me at liftoff, those first few moments when I stand up with the skates, and my legs go in opposite directions as I hold on to the door for dear life; urban bambi, that's me. This moment only lasts about 43 seconds, the time it takes me to get the courage to skate down and over the bumpy curb and be at one with the cars. He caught me at that moment.) He didn't laugh or anything (although, in his place, I would have). He just had a crooked smile, and watched. Saying nothing.
So today, he was back. I thought he lived accross my street, but in fact he is my side neighbour. Second floor apartment after the empty lot (in the block that is really shabby). He said he saw me from his balcony. I was in the back, fixing my bike (at this point, I was still fixing it and not breaking it.) He saw me, so he came down.
He didn't say much. He sort of showed up in the way kids have again, out of nowhere, and stood. He asked me what I was doing (or I told him). Changing the seat on my bike (for a new cushy one designed just for women - that part I did not add). Missing tools. Scrapping the bolt. He asked if I worked. Yes, just got home. He asked me what I did (I guessed meaning my job) I work in this building right here, on the ground floor, and I work in a museum. No expression on his face. He just stood, stared, listened. I asked him what he did (meaning in what grade he was, even if it is the summer). He hesitated. And then he told me he was doubling grade one.
My first reaction (inside) - how do you fail grade one???!!! My second was to be all adult and tell him how important an education was - you get a good education, you get a good job (since he was so curious about what I did, and not even what my name was!) He stared, said nothing. I realized he had probably gotten enough flack from his parents and other kids for being stupid, etc. I think I asked him why he had failed. He said he did not work hard ("j'me suis pas forcé").
At this point, needing the proper tools, I realized I had to go knock on the door of the office and see if my boss had the right instrument to lend me. The kid followed. My boss opened the door, we talked. He stood there beside me, said nothing. Not the least curious about what was going on, who she was, etc. I told him she owned the building. Nothing. I think this kid is in a coma.
We talked a bit more about my bike. I showed him the new seat. He asked why I was changing it. It hurts (my vagina bone!). I showed him the old one and the new one, how cushy it was, told him he could touch. We talked about my (sister's teenagehood) circa1990 mint green splatterpaint bike. How old it was. My neigbour is 7. I told him I thought the turquoise on the seat would match the colour of the bike (no) and asked if he thought it mattered that they were not the same colour. We (I) concluded aloud that it didn't matter, as long as the seat was comfortable. He said it hurt him too when he rode a bike (oh god, doesn't he even have one???) since he does not ride one often. He asked exactly how much time it took when riding my bike for it to hurt. This is a hilarious question.
Finally, I had to go buy the tool, I told the kid I had to go. I started walking up the metal stairs to my place to get my things. He followed me for two steps up, stopped, and said "ca dérange pas s'y sont pas d'la même couleur" and smiled.
When I left by car, he was crossing from one side of our street to the other. I bought a tool at the hardware store a few minutes later.
posted by isabellenecessary at 9:38 PM
2 Comments:
you're back. sweetness.
as you know, I don't speak french- what did the kid say lat?
great post.
J: he said "it don't matter if they ain't the same colour", loosely translated. :)
Post a Comment
<< Home