Friendly Neighbors
David was a born storyteller. He had never met his father nor had he wanted to. But he was an angry kid. He lived with his mother in the suburbs of Montreal, hated going to school and spent most of his awake time painting. He despised equally his teachers and schoolmates. The former feared him and he gave them reason to. He was sharp-witted as well as sharp-tongued. He also made no mystery of the fact he didn’t like the people of his age. He had nothing to do with them.
His mother was very worried and had tried to convince him to see a psychologist but he rather talk to their neighbor, a retired primary school teacher well into her eighties, than to a shrink. Melanie (that was her name) was a very cynical lady, she always told things as they were, no matter how hurtful they might be. No one was closer to David than she was, in spite of her age. He adored her, and she had told him she firmly believed in his talent.
He had refused to attend her funeral. All he could feel was dumb anger. Melanie was pretty old and he should have been prepared. And yet. Melanie herself had often spoken about her death. She knew her health was not so good as it used to be and she wanted to be ready. David thought she was the bravest lady in the world. He thought if someone could be ready to accept their own death that person was Melanie. And yet.
He had decided to play nasty jokes on the new neighbors. Just for fun. He didn’t know what to do now. He was bored out of his skull. He was down. He didn’t even feel like painting anymore. The day the moving van arrived, David was ready. After the new neighbors had settled he would enter their garden with a bucket full of paint and write a big “Welcome” on their back door. It was simply genial. No one could have accused him of not being a friendly neighbor.
Everything was ready. He had skipped school and gone back home. His mother was at work so he could take his time to make sure everything was perfect. The house next to theirs was deserted, immersed in silence, unaware. He put on his old trainers, picked up the bucket and went out. The sun was slowly reaching its zenith. He had climbed that fence so many times before he could manage climbing it with the bucket. The back garden was full of empty boxes and garbage, he had to be very careful not to make noise. He walked very slowly and took minutes to reach the door. When he thought he was close enough he put the bucket down and searched for the brush in his pockets. There it was. Now he just needed to dip it in the bucket and…
The back door opened all of a sudden. A skinny girl in her early twenties appeared and yelled:
What the f* are you doing?
For David it was love at first sight.
First Loves
I knew Dolores wouldn’t approve my decision to have a child coming regularly to the apartment. Ours was like a marriage; she had started working for me right after my wife had moved out, and, as I liked saying, I had found myself committed to this very valuable lady of Irish origins. Every day she took care of my apartment, watered my plants, and cooked my meals. To her that meant she was entitled to control my diet. I found that annoying at that time but I have to admit that, if it hadn’t been for her, I would have probably followed the recently separated man’s diet, i.e. junk food at breakfast, junk food at lunch, and junk food at dinner.
Ours had also been an encounter of two solitary planets. Widowed at an early age, Dolores had raised four children all by herself. Now all of them had moved away from Portland, and, even though they would phone her very often (the girl who was studying at UCLA called her daily), she had started feeling her house was too big and empty, so she had looked for a job that would take her outside it for most of her day. And she had found me, a lonely university professor in love with the stars, only partially aware of having a body that needed feeding and resting when deeply involved in research. I was all she needed and she was all I needed too.
I knew she would make a big fuss about having Gwendolyn coming to my place regularly but I was also sure she would fall in love with the child as soon as she met her. Things went as I had foreseen: when I told her I was going to tutor a girl who would come to the apartment every day she looked at me in disbelief. She said she was worried I was going to embark on something I would quickly regret but the expression on her face meant You are going to embark on something I will quickly regret. Don’t you like having a perfectly polished floor under your expensive shoes? This apartment was intended to be for adults only.
I declared I was feeling like having a drink before going to lunch with David and asked if she would like to have an aperitif too. As I was pouring a little sherry in her glass I told her I knew our routine practically perfect and a girl would certainly make things different, but I was also convinced a slight change (I tried to emphasize the adjective) would make us good. She didn’t look too persuaded so there was nothing left for me to do except drain my whiskey and leave.
As I was parking in front of the restaurant where I had agreed to meet David I realized I was a little drunk. I oughtn’t to have drunk so early in the day, but I had felt a little embarassed with Dolores and I knew she enjoyed our alcoholic breaks from work as I did so I thought it could have been a good idea. Now I knew it hadn’t been. My head was gently spinning as I was making my way in the restaurant. It was a place average students couldn’t afford, so it was empty with the exception of a group of Chinese students giggling in the table next to the one where David was sitting waiting for me.
After I had apologized for being late and asked how he was we were both quiet for a minute, studying the menu. After a fake-tanned waitress had taken our orders I asked David what was new. He cleared his throat and said:
- Well, it seems Jett is dating someone. I don’t mean he has a special friend or something like that, I mean he goes to the movie with her, holds her hand in public, practises French kissing and hopefully nothing else….how old does that make me??
I chuckled.
- He’s 15, it’s pretty normal he’s got a real date, don’t you think?
-I know, it’s just they grow up so quickly. Yesterday we were watching cartoons together and now he’s dating someone, ready to have his heart broken for the first time.
My senses were still a little blurred and I realised I was giggling a little too much.
- You don’t seem to be very optimistic about love, I said. -And of course everybody remembers their first love because it’s so intense but it is usually as intense as it is short so one gets over it quite quickly.
- I suppose that’s true in general. That’s certainly not true in my case.
-Did your first love last a lot?
-My first love was Linda. I met her was I was fifteen, just like Jett. We had him when I was seventeen and we had Gwen when I was twenty.
I felt I was completely awake now. David had all my attention.
The Sourcils were no normal family, that much had been clear to me since I had first met them. But it seemed as if the more I got to know them the more there was to be discovered.
Family Matters
David Sourcil came back to our table bringing two mugs of black coffee. I was aware I desperately needed caffeine and sugar. The man sitting in front of me was staring at his mug. Suddenly he said:
-This is so embarrassing. I’m really sorry. You’re such a kind person and you barely know me and my family and here I am, asking you a big favour…
I had been misinterpreting his behaviour. What I had taken for superiority wasn’t that at all. It was terrible embarrassment. David bent his head to the side and smiled at me briefly. He looked very young now. Thirty-two, thirty-three, but he must have been older. He had a fifteen-year-old son.
-Yours is an extra-ordinary family and I’m sincerely glad to have met you all. And I guess I could find some time to teach Gwen maths and science, since I’m more and more interested in indigo children. But I can’t deny you really took me off guard. Besides I’m very curious to know why you are in favour of your daughter’s moving to Portland whereas your ex wife isn’t.
-We were never married but that’s not the point. See, Linda and I split mainly because of the way we want to raise our children. She thinks out kids should try and mingle among other children, and she wants them to spend as much time as possible with their peers. I guess Jett is an adorable kid, he gets on with everybody, he’s kind, he’s got a lot of friends. He likes going to school, so I’m totally ok with him being surrounded by “normal” kids if that’s what he wants. But Gwen, well, Gwen is a completely different person. She hates school, she hates most of her teachers and schoolmates. She needs to be constantly challenged and she isn’t. Therefore I’ve always been in favour of her quitting school. She has to study with someone who can stimulate her to do her best. And of course I want her to have friends, but obliging her to go to school doesn’t work. She’s extra-ordinary, she’s unique. She will always be different, isolated. It pains me but that’s exactly what is going to happen and Linda doesn’t want to come to terms with it. I know she’s her mother, and I understand her need to protect her, but Gwen’s unhappy now and we gotta do something about it.
David’s eyes shone as he was talking of his daughter. He seemed to have a deeper understanding of her and her desires. Jett was thin and tall and sociable just like Linda, and Gwen was probably very similar to her father, so terribly shy that she risked appearing aggressive and rude. We were on our way back to the departments.
-Linda hasn’t changed her mind yet, David went on, but if I tell her that you’re available she will have to accept Gwen’s moving here and quitting school. The thing is last week end I went back to Saskatchewan to see my kids and Linda and I had another terrible fight. When I moved to Portland, one and a half year ago, we decided Linda should look for a job in Portland and would move here with the kids. But I guess she has never really looked for a job, otherwise she would have found one by now. She’s a school teacher, not an astronaut! She wants me to be as far away from the kids as possible as not to interfere with their upbringing and education. Gwen must have heard our conversation and now she’s threatening Linda she will go on a hunger strike if she can’t come and live with me.
-Oh my…
-Yes, it’s terrible. And Gwen is just as stubborn as her mother, so I have no doubt about the fact that she will do it if we don’t stop her before.
-I’m really sorry to hear this. Of course I will help you. Tell Linda I can teach Gwen and let’s hope she will let her come to Portland.
-Thanks. This is my office, would you like to come in?
I hadn’t realised we had entered the English department. As soon as David opened the door I spotted a huge, wonderful painting representing an old Indian woman whose resemblance with Devi was incredible.
- Was that painted by Gwen? It does look like her style.
-That was actually painted by her father, he said. He did it when he was eight.
I should have guessed it from the start. David Sourcil had been an indigo child, too; why did I always realise things when it was too late?
Alpha Males
Alpha males are the leaders of animal communities. Nature chooses some of her sons and makes them inclined to command. The rest of the males defer to the alpha and the female members of the community fight over him.
David Sourcil was an alpha male: men can always recognize natural leaders when they see them. The fact that I hated him from day one actually says more about me than about him, I guess. I’ve always thought of myself as a gregarious animal, but things are probably different. I think I would naturally be an alpha male myself, but I’m too politically correct to fully acknowledge it. I’ve always rejected leadership, but I must admit I’ve always been able to influence others, to appear reasonable and persuasive, to make people do what I wanted. This sharply contrasts with my shyness, but opposites seem to co-exist in me.
I was formulating these thoughts somewhere deep in my mind as I invited David Sourcil to have a seat in my office. Natalie left the room quietly, but not without casting a last admired glance at the young man sitting in front of me. I couldn’t help feeling annoyed. I’m afraid university professors, alpha males or otherwise, tend to be very jealous of their territory. We are supposed to be cleverer than people with worse education, but we are just as hopeless.
-I need to talk to you about something, Mr. Eyebrow, David said. Then, in order to break the ice, he added:
-Have you had lunch yet?
-It’s 3 pm! I replied. – Of course I have.
- Well, I have been very busy with correcting papers and I still need to go to lunch. Would you mind talking in the cafeteria?
- Of course not.
-Thanks a lot.
The guy seemed kind and friendly, which made me hate him even more. On our way to the cafeteria I caught a lot of female glances directed at him, but he made no sign of noticing it. Maybe he was just used to it, I couldn’t tell. He had bright eyes which contrasted with his dark, heavy eyebrows. His hair was of a slightly brighter shade. Gwen had identical eyes but much fairer hair. And now that I came to think of it, I had never been able to see her eyebrows.
David was slowly chewing his sandwich and showed no hurry. On the other hand, I was very impatient to know what he wanted to talk to me about, so I asked him. He put his sandwich down, drank some water, and said:
- I know you’ve told my daughter Gwen that you don’t want to tutor her. I’m here to ask you to reconsider.
He looked me in the eye defiantly and said no more. He simply picked his sandwich up and finished it.
Of course I could have said no, especially as I didn’t like the man who was talking to me, but, deep inside, I knew it was not what I wanted. Somehow, my trip to Saskatchewan had produced an irreversible change in me. I didn’t know what it was yet, but I felt it had to do with Gwen and her family. After years spent confuting theories I felt the indigo children I had met were a new, unexplored universe of possibilities.
Besides, I had often had the impression that an external force, call it fate, destiny or whatever, was pushing me towards a greater involvement with the Sourcils.
And I was curious to see where this would take me.
Unavailable
I haven’t had time to write my blog lately. I have been very busy. In my twenties and thirties I often had the feeling I was caught up in a web made up of office hours, classes, taxis, trains, books I had to read or write, students whose name I should have remembered, things I had promised my son I would do and never did.
As an astronomer I should have spent my time looking at the sky, hanging between the earth and the stars; my daily life kept me firmly anchored to the ground instead. I could not complain: what I had was what I had chosen for myself. I had always wanted to become a scholar and I had been clever and lucky enough to become one. Granted, I had to work hard. Granted, I slept no more than five, six hours per night. Granted, I spent more time with my students than with my family. But I had known it from the beginning and my wife had known it, too: we were both trying to do our best, hoping it would be enough.
I used to take a lot of planes at that time and I remember enjoying the sensation of being isolated from the rest of the world. My cell phone was switched off, my laptop was switched off, I was unavailable. My thoughts would slowly unroll like little locks of smoke, the deadened sounds of lazy conversations would help them widen.
As I was fastening my seat belt, that late afternoon, my thoughts were all centered around Gwendolyn and her mother. I had got up at dawn and I was tired, but I knew my ideas were extremely clear. I massaged my eyelids with my fingertips. I laid my head on the headrest.
Linda was an incredible woman. She was skinny and you couldn’t call her beautiful- yet. I couldn’t help thinking she was sexy in her own, awkward way. Jett had taken after her having brown hair and almond shaped hazel eyes. As Devi and I entered the diner, that morning, he was watching a Youtube video on his laptop. Linda was making coffee and Gwendolyn was playing with their dog. Ben hadn’t showed up yet.
Linda was very friendly, offered us a mug of much needed coffee and coconuts biscuits. Ben had told her everything about us and our short visit, and she was glad to have the chance to meet us in person. She knew Devi was an artist who was intensely interested in indigo art, so she had asked Jett to bring his laptop so that he could surf the net and help her locate all indigo children in the West of Canada. It seemed a very nice offer and Devi was not able to decline it: of course she knew as well as I did that this was a clever way of excluding her from the conversation I was going to have with Gwendolyn and he mother. Linda could be as friendly as determined in getting what she wanted ( I should have remembered it in the future but of course I didn’t!)
Gwendolyn was very quiet: it was very early and she probably wasn’t a morning person. I noticed that she was wearing a bandanna which covered her hair, forehead and eyebrows. She was looking at me and I couldn’t interpret the expression on her face.
-I apologise for arranging an appointment so early in the morning, Linda said. – But Gwen feels she has been very rude to you yesterday and she wanted to tell you she’s sorry about that.
- Oh, that’s very nice of you Gwendolyn, I replied addressing the kid directly. Gwendolyn’s sounded like a lame excuse. Apologising for being rude is something a twelve-year-old would never do, let alone a twelve-year-old as cheeky as the blond indigo child sitting in front of me.
Linda seemed to echo my thoughts: – She did take me by surprise, you know. That’s not what this young lady would normally do, so I must admit I was very curious to meet you and I agreed to contact your Indian friend and to arrange this meeting. So, Gwen, what is it that you wanted to tell Mr. Eyebrow?
-You can call me Indigo.
- I’m sorry I was rude yesterday. You know, I was playing basketball and you and your friend arrived and interrupted me and I hate being interrupted.
- You’d better stop acting like a spoiled princess, young lady! Linda’s eyes moved from her child to me. -So, Indigo, what brings you to Saskatchewan?
-He’s an astronomer, mom.
- Really? I thought you were a painter or an art scholar!
- No, I’m no art expert at all. Devi is. We went to Kinvarra’s Todepp exhibit and her mother told us about your children.
-She did? Wow!
I knew what she meant. Mrs. Todepp was jealous of Gwen’s and Jett’s talent which was so much greater than her daughter’s. We both chuckled. I liked her.
Gwen seemed impatient now. -Mr.Eyebrow is on sabbatical mom. That’s why he’s been travelling. He normally lives in Portland and since he’s such a great scholar I was wondering if…
-NO! Linda didn’t let her finish. -I know what you’re gonna say and the answer is no. Just forget it!
- But MOM! Dad lives there! I could go and live with him…
-NO! Linda was inflexible in her decision. I asked for an explanation. Apparently, Gwen’s father lived in Portland. We both worked at the same university but for another department. Gwen had been dreaming about living with her dad since he had left for Portland, a year and a half before. She wanted to move to Portland and to quit school to have private tuition. She couldn’t bear being surrounded by slower kids any longer. So she had thought that her father could have been her tutor for English while I could have given her maths and science class. While her mother was explaining all this to me she had been biting her lip. She looked flushed with anger and yet she was trying to control herself and to appear reasonable, in the hope I would say yes and convince her mother hers was a good idea. But of course I didn’t.
- I’m very sorry Gwendolyn but I can’t help you. As you said, I’m on sabbatical, but that doesn’t mean I’m on vacation. I’m pretty busy right now. I’m working on two books right now, then, in spring, I will be attending quite a few seminars. I couldn’t find the time to be your tutor even if I wanted to. I’m really sorry.
Gwen went to the back-garden without a word. But I couldn’t help noticing her look as she was leaving. She was mutely accusing me: why was I letting her down after we had met in such a singular way during the night?
Had I really seen accusation in her eyes or was it just my imagination?
