Chapter 12 Why You Should Never Mention Quebec Outside of Quebec

*** continued from previous post ***

Luckily, and with no small amount of pleading, Mom DID let me into the room, so evidently I was, if not forgiven, well on the way.

We didn't discuss the bear incident. Which made me happy and nervous at the same time. See, in a marriage as long as ours nothing is ever truly forgotten. Oh, it may be shelved for a bit. It may appear that the topic shall never be broached again, but that ain't so. In my experience the longer between the incident and the discussion of the incident, the worse for me. See, your mom's logic which is excellent to begin with, becomes bullet-proof when she has time to stew. It's not fair. How am I supposed to weasel my way out of trouble, with a winning combination of cuteness and humor, when she's had time to think from all angles? There was no way I was going to let what had happened fester.

"So," I said, "that was something, huh?"

Mom dropped the book she was reading from in front of her eyes, just long enough to give me the look of death. The she raised the book again. It wasn't as if she were hiding behind the pages. It was more like she was behind a fortress. A fortress of literature. The strongest barrier known to mankind.

"We did get close, didn't we? I mean, wasn't she amazing?" I said. With no response from behind the book I took a chance. "It really wasn't that dangerous. I mean, we could leave at any minute." Still nothing. "Wait 'til we tell the kids. I bet they'll get a kick out of it."

Yes. I brought you and your sister into the mix. I played the 'child' card. It's a low ploy, but I was desperate. Oh, you have no idea how many difficult situations you and your sister have rescued me from over the years. Would this strategy bear fruit? Only time would tell.

Mom closed her book with a snap.

"Sweetie," I said, stalling for time, "before you say anything - - -"

"Oh will you be quiet," Mom said, cutting me off. "I'm not upset."

My hackles raised. My suspicions aroused. My interest piqued. It was quite painful. What game was this? What tact was she taking? What fresh Hell was I in now?

”Umm. . .," I said quietly. "Really?"

I wasn't about to let down my guard just yet. She could be hiding any number of weapons behind that book.

Mom stood up from the window bench and came to where I perched on the edge of the Lincoln-log bed. She sat beside me, putting her arm around my shoulder and drawing me close. I could smell the faint hint of freesia in her hair.

"Really," she said. Her hand crept up my back and stroked the smooth skin on my head.

"Actually, now that I think back on it, it was kind of cool."

"It was, wasn't it? Quite an adrenaline rush!"

"Yeah, yeah it was," she smiled, patting my head. "Now we both know," she said, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, rocking me back and forth in a mock shaking, "that it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"And that we should have gotten out of there at the first sign of the bear, right?"

"Without a doubt," I said.

"AND we were REALLY lucky because that situation could have turned very ugly, very fast."

"We're so lucky we should go buy a Lottery ticket right now."

This made her chuckle. "But it was. . . actually pretty cool."

I pulled her close and kissed her. "Do you know how much I love you?"

"Enough to buy me massive amounts of chocolate once we get back home?

"My dear," I said, "I will buy you the flippin' Hershey's factory if that's what your heart desires."

"You couldn't afford that. I'll settle for a candy bar."

She stood, cradling my head in her hands. "You know, you always think I'm ticked off at you. I'll let you in on a little secret." She bent and kissed me on the forehead. "Most of the time I'm not."

"Don't tell me that!"

"Why not?"

"Because," I said, "that's the only thing that keeps me in check most of the time."

"I did not know that. Well, if that's the way it is, then I'm an ogre. Shape up or feel my wrath."

That was better. Who does she think she is messing about with my fundamental perceptions? My reality is based on a series of observations that may, or may not, be real. But it's my reality and I'm fine with it.

"I shall give you a wide birth, oh master of all things ogre-y."

She laughed. "Ogre-y? Is that even a word?"

I thought about that for a minute. "It is now."

“Besides, who else would play the ‘straight man’ to your insanity?”

And she kissed me again. And just like that the issue was put to rest. Let me just say this unequivocally: Yer mom RAWKS. Rocks harder than a lapidary collection. Rocks more than gravel. Rocks more than a cradle. You get the picture.

“I am a little worried about those kids though.”

“Yeah, I thought about that at the time. But really, what could we do? I’ve forgotten my circus training. The most I could pile on the bike was four. That still left two as bait. Besides, I’m sure the people in the cars offered them shelter.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Sweetie, this is Canada. Where people are actually human.”

“Good point,” she said, “I keep forgetting that.”



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*** the journey continues ***