The Big Black Hole Cont...

In September, I went to Winston Churchill School and I made new friends, and I introduced them to Teddy when they came to my house. On the weekend, sometimes, Arthur put me on the train and Bernard and my mother, Cynthia (I called Brenda Mom because she always tucked me into bed at night and always read me a story before I fell asleep), so anyway, Bernard and my mother (Cynthia) picked me up at Union Station, and then they brought me back on Sunday afternoon.

One weekend, when I arrived in Toronto, Dad, (Bernard) was not there, and Mom told me that he wasn’t living with her anymore and that I might not see him again. In a way, I was glad because I was still calling him Dad and every time I said something to my dad (Arthur) about him, he got angry if I called him (Bernard) Dad.

Winston Churchill was a fun school. I liked my new friends there. My mom and dad (Brenda and Arthur) always let me invite my friends Joey and Tom after school because their parents worked until five o’clock. Mom worked at home and she stopped when I got home from school, and she didn’t work when there was a P.D. day. My friends loved coming over because we always had big bags of cookies and chips in all flavours. Mom didn’t mind when we dropped crumbs between the couch cushions or made a mess, and she let us drink Coke. Sometimes she gave us money, and she let us go by ourselves to the corner store to get candy, but she always told us to be careful crossing the street. And we were.

I loved living in Kingston with Brenda and Arthur. They let me eat Kraft Dinner and Alpha-bits, and when Mom (Brenda) didn’t feel like shopping or cooking, she’d say, “there’s nothing in the fridge,” and we’d all pile into the car and go to McDonald’s. Sometimes Joey and Tom came along.

One day, Dad (Arthur) told me that it was the saddest day of his life and that he had to let me go and live with my mother (Cynthia) in Toronto. He said he had no choice because it was the judge’s decision. He told me that something had been reversed. I didn’t know what he meant, but I didn’t ask him to explain because I thought I wouldn’t understand anyway and I wanted to get back to my Lego construction.

“Are you still going to be my dad?” I asked him that evening.

And I think he said, “Apparently I never was your dad,” but he said it in a voice that wasn’t very clear. I think he was choking or something. I’m still not sure if that’s what he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing, I shouldn’t have said that, but some day you’re bound to find out anyway.” He was crying. He kneeled down on the floor beside me and hugged me. “I’ll always be your dad and you’ll always be my son, no matter what.” Teddy was beside me; I grabbed him and I hugged him really hard, and I didn’t ask any more questions. I didn’t want to make things any worse in my head. It was already full of little black question marks kicking each other and making a racket.

After I had been living again in Toronto for a while, one Sunday afternoon before Christmas, my mother (Cynthia) took me to see The Nutcracker. In the lobby of the theatre, before the performance, while I was shaking the snow off my coat, we met a man she knew.