\u2018Daddy, do you play ludo with me now?\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018No.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Please!\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018No, you can ask your little sister in a minute. I\u2019m almost finished.\u2019<\/p>\n
He sighs. Last night his father came home from a long trip to Africa and he is telling him all he has done there. Before leaving he had written down for him the names of the cities that he was going to. Abidjan, Khartoum, Johannesburg<\/em>. He had learned them by heart so that he could tell them to George and Jimmy, his pals in kindergarten. Right now, he is having a hard time understanding what his father is talking about because he uses difficult words. That much he knows, though, it has something to do with business, the watering of desert areas and white people not being nice to black people. His dad\u2019s long monologue only makes him yawn.<\/p>\n \u2018Basyl, are you listening? It\u2019s about time you learnt what grownups do. You\u2019re a big boy.\u2019<\/p>\n He nods yes <\/em>to his father, yet in the meantime he thinks of other things like sitting on his lap and being cuddled. But last year his dad had told him that this wasn\u2019t right anymore for a boy of his age. Why is Sica still allowed to sit on his lap even if she\u2019s five just like I was back then?<\/em>\u00a0 He had complained about it but his father said \u2018Sica is a girl. Besides, I don\u2019t like it when you grumble, Basyl. That\u2019s what babies do.\u2019 Angrily, he had replied \u2018I\u2019m not<\/em> a baby anymore!\u2019<\/p>\n His father lights a cigar, then reads the paper. I hope Daddy will stay home longer this time<\/em>.<\/p>\n Today he feels happy. He always feels happy when his dad is home. Whistling, he fetches the ludo from the playroom. An hour ago they had returned from high mass in the Cathedral. Next spring his first Holy Communion will take place there. His mother once told him that this is one of the few churches in Brussels where they still do everything the good old way and not how the small fat Pope who died last spring had wanted it. He was not surprised that his father did not attend mass this morning. The last time he had done so is more than a full year ago.<\/p>\n Why has Daddy suddenly stopped going to church even though he still adores Mother Mary? <\/em><\/p>\n The smell of chicken soup is filling the living room, which is his father\u2019s number one soup. His mother always prepares it when he is home. The gramophone plays his favourite chanson. Last Sunday his mother had spelled the singer\u2019s name for him. Henri Salvador<\/em>. This man has warm brown eyes just like his father but his voice is softer and his face friendlier than daddy\u2019s. The song is about a bee and a caterpillar who meet one day in springtime. The caterpillar is in love with the bee but the bee does not even see him. His mother had helped him to learn the lyrics by heart, so now he can sing along with her. Une abeille, un jour de printemps, voletait, voletait gaiement.<\/em> He understands almost all the French words and especially likes the ending – overnight the caterpillar turns into a butterfly and then the bee falls in love with him as well. Now he listens to this song the umpteenth time he is positive. One day I will be a butterfly.<\/em><\/p>\n His father loves butterflies. There are a lot of butterfly paintings in his study. Sometimes his parents dance to a French chanson cheek to cheek, and then kiss each other. Outside it’s cold but here inside it\u2019s warm. Beside the hot stove he sits down opposite Sica on the Persian rug. As they start playing ludo he leans against his mother who sits in her comfy chair, reading a magazine. He giggles when she grabs an Egyptian cigarette from the box that she keeps in her vanity bag. On top of the cigarette box is an image of two black turbaned men in white dresses. They stand amidst palm trees beside a camel on a sand dune. The scene reminds him of his favourite book of strip cartoons. Tintin au Congo.<\/em> He likes to watch the adventures of this brave boy with his funny forelock and doggie Milou, especially when his daddy is home.<\/p>\n \u2018Will I go to Africa, too, one day when I\u2019m big?\u2019 he asks, staring at his mother eagerly.<\/p>\n \u2018Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be.\u2019 <\/em>Singing, she runs her hand through his hair.<\/p>\n His father adores it when she lights a cigarette, which happens only once a week, always on Sunday after mass. He knows his mum does it only to please his dad. When he sees his parents smile at each other as she smokes elegantly, he feels warm inside.<\/p>\n His mother rises. As he watches her walk off to the kitchen he notices that his father is spying on him over the rim of the paper, a peculiar expression on his face. Is something wrong? <\/em>From the corner of his eye he peers at the photo on the shelf of his deceased brother Benjamin. Why had Daddy taken away the crucifix from the chimney-piece after the funeral last winter?<\/em><\/p>\n \u2018Dinner is ready in twenty minutes!\u2019, his mother yells from the kitchen.<\/p>\n That\u2019s enough time to win this ludo game from Sica.<\/em> They play with two pawns, not four because that takes too long. They throw the dice in turn. Another French chanson starts playing, which is his mother\u2019s favourite. A few weeks ago he had asked her what this song is about. \u2018The lady isn\u2019t sorry for anything she\u2019s done in her life\u2019, she said. He wondered why that\u2019s so. The singer is a tiny woman with a round face and sad eyes. Her voice sounds sad, too. On that occasion his mother had taught him the opening line. The next time this chanson came up he ran up to her and pronounced without faltering \u2018non, rien de rien, non je ne regrette rien.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n \u2018Formidable!\u2019 she had said, caressing his cheek, which made him feel very proud of himself.<\/p>\n Two months prior his father had bought a modern gramophone, one you can put in ten discs. The next automatically drops down as soon as the previous one has finished playing. Super! Sica hates losing. That\u2019s why he sometimes lets her win. But today he won\u2019t. After ten minutes they\u2019re finished. He has won. Sica is mad. Screaming, she throws the dice and pawns into the living room, then runs off to the playroom. A moment later she returns, giggling secretively.<\/p>\n His father sits upright, puts the newspaper down and yells at his mother out of the blue. \u2018Shall we play a short game together, the four of us, just before dinner?\u2019<\/p>\n He is amazed. His father normally doesn\u2019t fancy games and he notices that his mother is also quite surprised. Hesitantly, she flops into her comfy chair, a grin on her face.<\/p>\n \u2018Okay, it goes like this. You, Basyl and Sica sit down on the couch over there. I count till three and then you two creep up to the one you love most, either Mummy or me, understood?\u2019<\/p>\n He nods, disappointed. This is not at all what he expected his father would come up with. \u00a0Sica runs to the couch excitedly but he doesn\u2019t move a muscle while his heart is beating faster.<\/p>\n \u2018Go sit next to Sica on the sofa, Basyl!\u2019 his father shouts at him, amused.<\/p>\n He reluctantly obeys and drops onto the couch. Is<\/em> this supposed to be a game?<\/em> He doesn\u2019t \u00a0understand why he is nervous but his father already starts counting very slowly. \u2018One.., two\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n Sica, always quicker than he, jumps up yelling Daddy! Daddy!<\/em> and rushes straight into his open arms. His father cuddles her, which is precisely what he wants, too, so he rises but his mother starts weeping. Worried, he looks at her.<\/p>\n \u2018You come to me, Francesco, don\u2019t you?\u2019<\/p>\n He sits down again. Sica is hugging Daddy. He envies her. His father yells at him, smiling.<\/p>\n \u2018Come over to me, too! Come to me, son!\u2019<\/p>\n He squats, ready to throw himself into Daddy\u2019s arms but his mother\u2019s sobbing intensifies.<\/p>\n \u2018No, Cesco! Don\u2019t leave Mummy alone! Daddy already has Sica!\u2019 She grabs a handkerchief to hide her tear-filled eyes. It sounds and looks like his mother is really sad. Torn between his parents he stares at his father who eyes him more fondly than ever. Please, Daddy, help me\u2026 <\/em><\/p>\n \u2018Do come, Basyl! I\u2019m waiting for you!\u2019 Daddy commands, a sudden stern look on his face.<\/p>\n He rises again to make a leap to his father but his mother\u2019s crying is so heart-breaking that something inside him cracks. His body freezes as he stands stock-still in between his parents. Squeezing his lips together, he stares past the curtains out the window at the bleak garden. Everything around him is deadly silent, except for his heartbeat. It is racing. He gazes at Sica, his mother, his father but his vision is blurred as if there is a big looking glass between them. The hum of their voices is hardly audible. Only vaguely does he see the movements of their bodies, the colours of their clothes, the expression on their faces. This is not a fun game.<\/em><\/p>\n Once again his clumsiness is exposed, just like the other day when the nun in the nursery grabbed his arm and put him in front of the class. \u2018Your mum told me you can sing beautifully. So, now you\u2019re going to sing a nice song for us.\u2019 Ill at ease, he stood in front of the blackboard. \u2018Sing!<\/em>\u2019 ordered the nun but he couldn\u2019t sing. His throat was shut. The nun was furious. \u2018Sing!!\u2019<\/em> He started to weep and wet himself. All the children laughed at him, even George and Jimmy. Alarmed at his wet pants and miserable look, his mother asked him later what had happened but, ashamed of himself, he couldn\u2019t bring out a word.<\/p>\n \u2018The game is over!\u2019 his father screams. He drops onto the couch a vivid flush on his cheeks.<\/p>\n \u2018He loves me more! He loves me more!\u2019 Mummy waves her tissue triumphantly at Daddy.<\/p>\n He\u2019s confused, doesn\u2019t understand what happened to him. So, for her it was just a game?<\/em><\/p>\n His mother plucks him by his sleeve, plants a peck on his cheek, and taps him on the back. \u2018Let\u2019s forget Daddy\u2019s silly game, darling. Go wash your hands. Dinner is ready.\u2019<\/p>\n He eyes his father who\u2019s looking down at his shoes. Is he sad? Mad? <\/em>His tummy is aching. His father stands up from his chair. When he walks past him, he slaps him hard on the shoulder. The slaps come down so forcefully that they hurt. His eyes fill with tears. Now, he knows it for sure – Daddy is down because I didn\u2019t throw myself into his arms like Sica did. I\u2019m a coward.<\/em><\/p>\n After dinner his parents take a nap. They always do so on Sundays when his father is home. Now and then he hears them giggle. Then he gets they are not sleeping at all, just having fun.\u00a0 When they come downstairs later, they all four go for a walk to the forest where they search for moss, mushrooms and pebbles. Sometimes, when they saunter side by side through the woods, his father holds him by the hand, if only briefly. That always makes him feel warm inside.<\/p>\n Today, his parents come downstairs separately, which doesn\u2019t surprise him much because he heard them quarrel. His mother comes first. She doesn\u2019t look as rested as usual. In the salon she drops onto the canap\u00e9 and starts reading. After a while his father comes storming down as well.<\/p>\n \u2018We\u2019re not going on a walk!\u2019 he shouts and enters his study, slamming the door behind him.<\/p>\n The nice atmosphere is over. I\u2019m<\/em> to blame<\/em>. The smell of chicken soup that\u2019s still filling the air sickens him. As he enters the playroom to get his scooter he catches sight of the paperboard castle that he had built the week prior for his father to surprise him. It\u2019s ripped to shreds.<\/p>\n \u2018Sica, I\u2019m going to kill you!\u2019 he screams down the hall, sobbing.<\/p>\n His father speeds out of his study and boxes his ears so fiercely that it sends him spinning.<\/p>\n \u2018<\/em>Basyl! Stop crying! Boys don\u2019t cry!\u2019<\/p>\n He runs to his room and buries his sobs in his pillow. Why is he always taking Sica\u2019s side? Why can\u2019t he<\/em> let me be the favourite once?<\/em> From that day on he hates it even more when tears come into his eyes. Every time that happens he tries to suppress them by clenching his teeth. But they come nonetheless.<\/p>\n The following Friday evening he notices that his father is furtively weeping himself as he watches the news on telly. He hasn\u2019t seen him doing so ever before. Quite a few tears drop down his cheeks. He feels really sorry for him. If only someone could tell me what\u2019s going on.<\/em> But he\u2019s not allowed to speak or ask things when the news is on or else his father gets furious. Sica is already to bed. It looks like a nice gentleman was shot in an open limousine somewhere. He was waving to the people along the road who were fond of him. Daddy must be fond of this man, too. But<\/em> why is he screaming \u2018boys don\u2019t cry!\u2019 when he himself does so? That\u2019s so unfair!<\/em> He once saw his father under the shower. He has a willie just like me, so Daddy is a boy, too.<\/em> But Sica doesn\u2019t have one.<\/em> Is that why she\u2019s annoyed with me? How nasty of her to destroy my homemade castle! I hadn\u2019t even shown it to Daddy yet.<\/em><\/p>\n Later in bed it dawns on him. Last Sunday\u2019s stupid game was meant to make me feel stupid. Daddy knew, just like Mummy and I did, that Sica would run straight into his arms.<\/em> Unhappy, he drops off to sleep. He dreams of a faraway land with lots of palm trees. From a sand dune a group of eerie men in white dresses approach. They have sharp knives and tie him to a camel like a sack of potatoes. He screams but no one hears him. After a long ride in the desert they throw him into a cage. The chief, who looks like his father, boxes his ears. He starts crying.\u00a0 The man grabs a knife to kill him.<\/p>\n He wakes up, howling. His mother is bending over him. \u2018What\u2019s the matter, honey?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Daddy wants to murder me.\u2019<\/p>\n She burst out laughing. \u2018Oh, darling! What a silly idea! Daddy would never do such a thing to you. He loves you so much.\u2019 She hugs him and strokes his hair while singing a lullaby.<\/p>\n Wearily, he stares around. \u2018I want Daddy to come to me.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018He can\u2019t, dear. He\u2019s watching something very important on telly and feeling really sad.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Daddy must<\/em> come to me now!<\/em>\u2019 he screams, panicked.<\/p>\n \u2018Cesco, I\u2019m with you. That\u2019ll do.\u2019<\/p>\n She leans over him to cuddle him but he jerks his head away from her and pushes her aside. \u2018No!<\/em> Not you! I want Daddy!<\/em>\u2019 he cries, sobbing.<\/p>\n His mother gets angry. She grabs his chin and forces him to look her squarely in the face. \u2018Francesco,\u00a0c\u2019est fini! Papa ne viendra pas! Sois sage!\u2019<\/p>\n Her eyes blazing, she pulls down his pyjama trousers and lets him pee in his pot. He\u2019s too scared to ask why she doesn\u2019t want to tell Daddy that he badly wants him to be with him now. \u00a0I know why Daddy doesn\u2019t want to come to me. He\u2019s feeling really sad because I let him down.<\/em><\/p>\n Wordlessly, his mother puts him under the cover, switches off the light and goes downstairs.<\/p>\n Left to his fate in the pitch-dark bedroom he tosses and turns in his cot for an endless time. But then, all of a sudden, he decides just like that I\u2019ll be a big and good boy from tomorrow on<\/em>.<\/p>\n A strange stillness comes over him as it feels like he\u2019s finally found a solution for his problems.<\/p>\n I stop asking Daddy to come to me and I won\u2019t show him how much I love and miss him either.<\/em> His heart aches, his chest tightens, and yet, biting back tears he sticks to his resolve, pulls the bedspread over his head, and asks whispering Benjamin can you hear me?<\/em> Wherever are you?<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u2018Daddy, do you play ludo with me now?\u2019 \u2018No.\u2019 \u2018Please!\u2019 \u2018No, you can ask your little sister in a minute. I\u2019m almost finished.\u2019 He sighs. Last night his father came home from a long trip to Africa and he is telling him all he has done there. Before leaving he had written down for him […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":19318,"template":"","categories":[52,10],"class_list":["post-19361","stsp_text","type-stsp_text","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-issue-24","category-prosa"],"yoast_head":"\n