I told Ukyou Kuonji not long ago that I'd been toying with the idea of 
having the _Maria-sama ga miteru_ girls run around in Montreal. Ucchan 
tried, as Ucchan does, to gently dissuade me from what was likely to be 
a Really Bad Fanfic Idea. No different from what the kids do, having 
their favourite anime characters run around in their home town, he 
said, hinting that that was fine for the kids on fanfiction.net, but 
not something a grown-up fanfic writer with any self-respect or
self-awareness ought to be doing. It doesn't help that Montreal isn't my
home town. I don't even live there; I'm two hours away in Ottawa.

Anyway, when I learned Oyuki Konno already had Team Marimite run around in
Rome, I took that as a sign that I really, truly ought to get to work on
something else.

This is what I have so far. Rest assured the title is very preliminary and
the fic is 100% Nanami and poutine free.

Comments welcome. Anybody interested in pre-reading e-mail privately.

A disclaimer is in order. All the characters the reader will recognize 
from _Marimite_ are obviously fictional, but Ste. Marguerite Bourgeoys,
the first female saint from Canada (canonized by Pope John Paul II in
1982) was very real, as is Notre-Dame-de-Bon-Secours, the first church in
Montreal, founded by Ste. Marguerite on what is now rue Saint-Paul in
Vieux-Montr�al. The religious order founded by Ste. Marguerite, the
Congr�gation de Notre Dame de Montr�al, continues her ministry far beyond
Canada's borders; in particular, the Congr�gation today operates schools
around the world, including at least one in Japan. However, I've taken the
Congr�gation's name in vain for the purposes of fiction, and in
particular, no resemblance should be inferred between Lillian Academy and
any of the schools run by the Congr�gation de Notre Dame de Montr�al in
Japan or anywhere else in the world. 

I wish I'd at least invented Madeleine Cadieux, but I'm not that creative.
Anybody who can identify whence I borrowed her name will receive 50 bonus
points.

Paul Corrigan
studio_poutine@yahoo.ca

--

SI L'AMOUR DE MARIE
SUR TON COEUR EST GRAV�
NE T'OUBLIE EN PASSANT
DE LUI DIRE UN AVE

This is the inscription over the door of Notre-Dame-de-Bon-Secours. 
Just above the inscription is a Madonna and Child. What could a student 
of Lillian Academy do, but salute Our Lady wherever she saw her, not 
least when she had been specifically directed to do so? I put my hands 
together, bowed my head and said a Hail Mary as I had been taught.

--Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou 
amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, 
mother of God, pray for us sinners... 

I was distracted just then by the noise of the wooden doors being 
unbarred. I looked up to see a young man, dressed in the costume of a 
New French colonist of the 17th century, opening the door of the 
sanctuary. He obviously guessed I was a tourist, because he greeted me 
with:

--Bonjour, p�lerin.

--
Blame LeeT911
--
A _Maria-sama ga miteru_ (_Marimite_) fanfic by Paul Corrigan
--
_Marimite_ concept devised by Oyuki Konno
--

--So. Shimako. What are you doing in Montreal?

Sei didn't ask me this until we were settled on the commuter train from 
Pierre Elliott Trudeau airport to downtown Montreal. I'd wanted to take 
a taxi, but Sei said it was too far by taxi, and she'd had to get rid 
of her car when she left Japan. She didn't even have a Quebec driver's 
license, so she couldn't even rent a car. I suspect Yumi would have 
been relieved. She didn't realize Sei didn't drive in Canada, so she'd 
warned me if life I valued not to let Sei trick me into getting into 
her car.

In the airport itself, all we'd really done is compliment each other on 
how good we each looked. Sei did look good, clad in jeans, a denim 
jacket and a white sweater. It occurred to me that was the outfit she'd 
worn the day she left, just after the New Year; Yumi and I had gone to 
see her off. "My Virgin Mary outfit," she'd joked. It was autumn now, 
and adequate for the weather that day, though it must have been 
hopelessly inadequate for midwinter in Quebec. 

--Bah, I'm putting on weight, Sei said to me. Give me your hand 
luggage...make myself useful...you want me to grab your backpack? 

--No, I'm fine...don't be silly, you look fine, I replied. 

--You're still growing, right?

--I'm pretty sure I am...why?

--Hm. Just thought you looked different.

--Different how?

--Oh I don't know...I was going to say, more beautiful than ever.

I'm sure I blushed. Sei smiled as she said it, to reassure me that of 
course she didn't mean it, and of course she tells that to all the 
girls, like Sei does. But she'd never said it to me, at least not quite 
like that. That, and there was a light in her eyes when she looked at 
me then, and hadn't gone away even now as she sat across from me on the 
train. 

--I thought I told you, I said. To see the universities in Montreal. I 
wanted to study abroad. The Canadian universities are cheaper, and it's 
easier to get a student visa. You were the one who told me all that, 
when you said you were coming here.

--Oh, okay. Thought maybe you missed me or something, said Sei, 
grinning.

--If I said I missed you, would you want me to come?

Instead of answering directly, she pointed out the window of the train. 
The track followed a freeway, and we were just passing an industrial 
estate. There were a couple of flagpoles out front; on one flew the 
Canadian flag, while on another flew a flag with four white fleurs-de-
lys on a blue background, which I already recognized as the Quebec 
flag. 

--See the flags out front?

--Yes, I replied. The flags of Canada and Quebec.

--You know what's on them, right?

--On the Canadian flag is the maple leaf, in Japanese the momiji. The 
Quebec flag has fleurs-de-lys...

--Lilies in English. Yuri in Japanese. First time I saw that flag, I 
thought, okay, any place that has yuri flowers on its flag has definite 
possibilities.

While I was distracted, looking out the window, Sei suddenly took my 
hands. I turned to look at her.

--You know, we could get married here. So if you want to stay here, 
will you make an honest woman out of me...

--What?

Sei looked me in the eyes for a very long moment, with that light in 
her eyes seeming to grow. 

Then she started laughing out loud. I must have looked horrified. She 
let go of my hands.

--Just kidding.

--Sei! That's not funny!

Sei saw clearly I wasn't at all amused. She sobered up, sat back in her 
seat, looking out the window away from me, and told me:

--Actually, I was hoping you'd tell me the fact I was here _wasn't_ the 
reason you were here. You called me to tell me you were coming to 
Montreal, I couldn't help thinking, oh God, please no, she doesn't want 
to follow her oneesama to the ends of the earth, does she?...

--If it's any reassurance, I'll only be here a few days, you know. I'm 
going to Toronto and Vancouver, as well. Is it all right for me to be 
here? 

I really wasn't happy to hear Sei say all this to me the moment I'd 
gotten off the plane.

--Of course it is. I'm sorry.

Sei looked back at me. The light had dimmed.

--Did you get much sleep on the plane? she asked.

--A little. Not enough, I replied.

--I didn't get a wink. Tokyo to Detroit, Detroit to Montreal, not a 
wink. Living hell. I wasn't in any state to do anything my first day 
here either...you want to take a nap when we get home?

--That might be a good idea, I said. Now that I was seated on the 
train, well away from the hustle and bustle of the airport, I began to 
realize how tired I was. I wouldn't have snapped at Sei like that if 
I'd been well rested.

--I have missed you, though, really, said Sei, with a tenderness in her 
smile I'd rarely seen from her. I smiled back.

--Me too.

I took her hand this time, and squeezed it lightly before going on:

--Yumi misses you too.

--That a fact?

--She wanted to come with me, but her parents wouldn't let her.

--Oh yeah?...

Sei gently slipped her hand out of mine before going on:

--I'm surprised your dad let you come on your own.

--I'm not on my own. Not here anyway. I told father I'd be meeting you 
in Montreal. And he has a friend in Vancouver, running a temple near 
there. He was actually most worried about Toronto.

--Yeah. Lots of Japanese out there in Vancouver. I was going to try for 
the PhD in Women's Studies at UBC when I'm done here...Where are you 
going to stay in Toronto?

--I haven't decided yet. A hostel, maybe...

--So, what? Is he sure he wants to trust the notorious lesbian Sei Sato 
with his innocent only daughter?

--He always has trusted you. When have you ever hurt me?

--Well, if you say so...

--It's the truth!

Sei seemed to think about that, then, a propos of nothing, added:

--I still have Yumi's frog. You can tell her that.

In Narita, when we saw her off, Yumi had given Sei a stuffed toy frog 
as a going-away present, or rather a coming-back present, because the 
word _kaeru_ for "frog" sounds like the verb "to come back." 

--How is Yumi, anyway?

--All right...she's Rosa Chinesis now, of course...

--Really...little Yumi Rosa Chinesis. Wow. Kind of hard to imagine...

--She misses you too.

--Yeah, well...

--More than ever probably. She doesn't have Sachiko any more either.

--Well, Sachiko would have graduated this spring, right?

--She got married this spring.

--Already?

--The day after she graduated.

--Wow...that quick...they didn't mess around...I don't suppose she 
invited Yumi or you?

--No. Actually...a few days before Sachiko and Rei graduated, I asked 
Yumi if she wanted to go out after school, and she said no. It seems 
Sachiko took her aside and begged her, "Please _don't_ come to my 
wedding." It didn't surprise me. It was a farce. Everybody knows it. 
She didn't want Yumi to see that, and I can't say I blame her...

--And that's why Yumi didn't want to go out?

--Yes and no...the way Yumi explained it, Sachiko had invited her over 
to her parents' house that evening so she could "say goodbye to her 
properly." Sachiko's words, not Yumi's or mine. I asked, "But isn't she 
busy with the wedding?" Yumi had asked her the same thing, and Sachiko 
had said something like, "Don't worry about that." The thing was...

--Uh-huh?

--The next day when I saw Yumi, she had let her hair down. Her 
ponytails were gone. I asked her why she had changed her hair. She said 
something like, "Oh come on! They looked kind of childish anyway! We're 
going to be seniors after Easter, right?" Then she changed the subject. 
I never brought it up again.

--Hm.

--A few days after that was graduation day. Yumi and Sachiko got their 
photo taken together, and Sachiko said goodbye to us all. And that was 
that. None of us has seen her since then. 

--Not even Yumi?

--Not that I know of. I don't think so. I really don't know. Yumi's 
changed. She's still very sweet--everyone loves her. I love her. But it 
used to be that you knew exactly what she was thinking at any given 
moment. It was funny sometimes, but now...a lot of the time it's like 
she's wearing a mask, or trying to. You can still see how she really 
feels, but it takes more work. It's down deep in her eyes...

I had been looking down into my lap as I finished my story, and looked 
up at Sei, whose expression and turned dark and pensive as she stared 
behind me out the window.

--I was afraid that'd happen, Sei said at last. Yumi didn't start out a 
Chinesis, but I was always afraid she'd turn into one.

I asked Sei then, trying to change the subject:

--So when are you coming back?

--What? To Japan?...Hm. Good question.

--You'll be home for the New Year at least, right?

--I might. If I can't think of a good reason to stay here.

--You don't want to?

Sei pulled a face.

--Not really, no.

--But why...?

--Don't I want to see my folks at New Year's? What's the point? My mom 
and I never got along, and I hardly ever saw my dad even when I was 
living at home, so it's no great loss not to see him now.

Her own words must have sounded harsh even to her, because she smiled a 
bit apologetically and went on:

--You know, you're lucky, Shimako.

--Am I?

--You actually have a dad.

--Hm.

--You know, you and Yumi are welcome here any time you like.

--It's not the same.

--No, I guess not...I do miss Yumi, too. Real shame she couldn't come 
as well. I feel bad...you'll have to get her a really good souvenir.

--I asked her. She laughed and said, "Bring me back a polar bear!"

--Oh yeah? What about Yoshino?

--A Montreal Expos cap. She loves Warren Cromartie...

--You're a bit late. They've moved to Washington DC. 

--Oh. I see. I wouldn't have known...

--You can get Yoshino a Canadiens hockey sweater instead...

--I might...

There the conversation dropped, and Sei looked out the window again, 
presently muttering, more to herself than to me, something like:

--Viarge de bug...

--What?

--Do you know what a BUG is? Sei said aloud.

--No.

--It means--

Sei stopped herself, taking a deep breath.

--I have a fairly good idea what happened to Yumi. I think you do too.

--The thought had occurred to me, I admitted, yes.

--Listen. If I were Sachiko, that is precisely what I would _not_ have 
done. To you or Yumi. Lord knows I had the...

Sei trailed off. I wanted to ask her to go on, but I stopped myself. At
last she continued:

--Here, I don't have to play games with anyone. I don't have to hide. 
Because nobody cares. At all. In a few years we'll probably have a gay 
man as premier. You'd never hear of that anywhere else. When I said we 
could get married, I wasn't kidding. I mean, I was kidding about 
actually wanting to marry you...but we could. Why the hell should I go 
back to Japan on the New Year? I've come home! I used to dream about 
living somewhere like this...I hated Lillian. I hated it with a 
passion. My mom went there, and I used to think, my mother must have 
been insane to send her daughters here, if she had a clue what that 
soeur shit was all about. Why the nuns let it go on only they know. You 
think I didn't hear about that fiasco with Noriko and the rosary?

--Who told you?

--Yoko. She e-mailed me one day. Sachiko told her everything. Yoko thought
it was a riot. "What is it with the Giganteas," she said. "It takes so
much effort to get them to be honest about their feelings, doesn't it?"
Where the hell were the nuns is what I want to know...I felt like coming
down and smacking Sachiko and Rei so hard they'd...

--I like Noriko very much. They wouldn't have done it if I hadn't liked 
her, or she didn't like me. They were only trying to help...

--Why don't I believe that?...Don't answer that, I'll tell you. They 
did the same thing with me and you. They tried to do it to me and 
Shiori. If they really cared about anyone's feelings for a minute 
they'd leave them alone. But no. Moment somebody wants to actually be 
friends with someone, they try to turn it into some romantic melodrama 
to get themselves off on. Then the moment they realize a couple of the 
girls are for real, they come down on them like a ton of bricks, just 
to watch them squirm...

--What do you mean, they?

--Sachiko! Yoko! Eriko! Rei! All of them! Bunch of frustrated upper-
class twits pretending to be in love with each other and playing with 
people's minds just for fun! If you went up to a girl in the real world 
and you tried to feed her the shit they talked at Lillian about being 
"sisters," she'd laugh her ass off! Real love's not like that. If you 
really love someone you don't pretend to be everything they've ever 
wanted for two years just so you can take advantage of her the day 
before you marry some guy for his money...

--Stop it!

She stopped it. She must have realized she was getting carried away. I 
myself must have been too loud, because someone across the aisle 
started as I spoke, and turned to look.

--I'm not like that! I said to her, trying not to shout. I never did 
anything like that to Noriko! Never! I'd rather die than...!

--No, no...nobody said you were like that. I never...

Sei took a moment to calm herself. She suddenly looked ashamed. 

--Point is, she said, Lillian's not the real world. All that soeur 
business was just a game. I never took it seriously and neither should 
you. Neither should Noriko, and you can tell her I said so. While 
you're at it, tell Yumi too. At some point you have to grow up and 
leave all that behind. Trust me, you'll feel a lot better when you do. 
You can't live in the past. You've got to get away from all that, and 
the sooner the better. You couldn't pay me to go back to Lillian 
Academy for five minutes. That's why I was worried about you. Listen... 
if you want to come to Montreal, I really don't mind. This is a great 
city, you'll love it here. I'll help you if you want, what the hell. 
It's not like I don't want you around. I like you a lot, Shimako, I 
always have. But you'll have to make your own life for yourself. Of 
course, I'm sure you will. But don't come here just for your old 
oneesama, for God's sake. I'm not worth crossing an ocean for...

--Don't worry, please, I said at last. I know you mean well, but that 
really isn't the reason. 

--Actually, you know what? added Sei. You still haven't told me why you 
want to come here.

--I might ask the same question. It wasn't gay marriage, was it?

--Not like it didn't help...but not just that, no.

--You were studying English and American Literature at Lillian. Why 
would you go to Canada to study that?

--I wouldn't. At McGill I'm in Women's Studies, which is what I really 
wanted to do in the first place. Lots of feminists write in French, 
Beauvoir, Kristeva, Irigaray...so whatever looks interesting in French 
I try to read for the practice. Look at it this way. Where else in the 
world am I going to be able to learn English and French at once? For 
real, I mean? Look, I only went to Lillian U because I bombed the TOEFL 
the first time around, so I took a couple of semesters out to study 
English and try again, and enrol at McGill after Christmas. The English 
lit was a way to force myself to learn to read English properly. Not to 
mention I was practically teaching myself. Seriously--you're looking at 
colleges now, so you need to know--I wasn't learning anything at 
Lillian U. It's a finishing school for rich princesses. Don't go there 
if you have any ambition in life. Yoko and Eriko never gave the place a 
second thought...

--You know, Sei, it's not as if you were ever in want.

Sei, realizing what she'd said, backed off a bit:

--I guess. Though give my dad this, he's a self-made man...Shimako?

--Yes?

--Is he really okay with this? Your dad I mean. 

Now I was the one smiling apologetically, saying:

--I've told you about my father, haven't I? About how I told him I 
wanted to go to a convent when I was twelve, so he sent me to Lillian 
just like that. I suppose I am spoiled rotten...

--I mean...you're his only daughter. I thought he'd want you to stay 
home and marry someone so you all could keep the temple going... 
Lillian's one thing, but McGill might as well be the moon for all...

--I found it odd too. I asked him permission to go, and he said, of 
course, without hesitating. What did he tell me? He'd always thought I 
was looking for something, and if it wasn't at Lillian I'd found it, 
well...he told me, if one is serious about finding the Way--he meant of 
Buddhism--it's a small price to pay to have to walk all the way to 
India to bring it back home...

I couldn't help noticing a billboard on the side of the nearby freeway, 
with a picture of an old French Canadian man who looked like a priest 
and the slogan: IL �TAIT UN FOI.

--Or cross the Atlantic Ocean, I added.

--The Atlantic? Don't you mean the Pacific?

--No...I'm sorry, I'm not making too much sense...Mother Superior had 
me and Yumi and Yoshino in her office. I don't remember what, some 
Yamiyurikai business. Somebody must have told her I was going to 
Canada, because she asked me about it after she'd dismissed the others. 
In catechism they told us about Ste. Marguerite Bourgeoys and the 
Congregation of Notre Dame, who founded Lillian. Do you remember?

--I remember the comic books about her they used to sell in the school 
bookstore in Lillian Elementary about her, yeah. I think I still have 
one in my room at home--my parent's house, I mean. How Marguerite was 
called by Mary to do God's work, crossed the Atlantic a zillion times, 
converted the Indians and built the first school in Montreal with her 
bare hands...or some darn thing, I don't remember all the specifics... 
but yeah, sure, I remember the basic gist. So?

--Anyway, Mother Superior told me that the first church Ste. Marguerite 
Bourgeoys had founded was still there in Montreal. Notre-Dame-de-Bon-
Secours. She'd always wanted to make the pilgrimage herself, but she 
never found the time or opportunity, and she isn't well enough now to 
do it, so she asked me to go in her place. She asked me to bring her 
back a rosary from the church.

--And that's why you want to come to Montreal? To find God?

Sei suddenly burst out laughing, as if that was the funniest thing 
she'd ever heard. I wasn't amused at all.

--Excuse me, why do you think that's funny?

--Oh man...do you have a lot to learn about this place! Look outside. 
You think I live in a wooden fort in the wilderness like Marguerite?

--Don't talk rot! Of course not! It just seemed to me...

--No, no! I didn't actually think so, it's just...

Once Sei had composed herself, she went on:

--Let me tell you a story. Every year on June 24 they have the
Saint-Jean-Baptiste Day parade in downtown Montreal. It used to be for the
feast of Saint John the Baptist--he's the patron saint of Quebec, or
something--but now it's basically Quebec Day. La F�te nationale du Qu�bec,
they call it. The parade this year was on rue Notre-Dame, in the old city.
I wanted to see it, so I arrived at eleven to get a seat on the steps of
the Notre-
Dame Basilica, because the parade was to start at noon. Well, it didn't 
start at noon, and finally I got bored and I thought, you know what? I've 
never been inside Notre-Dame Basilica. What the hell, I'll go inside 
and have a look. Then I remembered it was the feast of the patron saint 
of Quebec, so I thought, I just hope there isn't mass, because then I 
won't be able to go in. Then what am I going to do? So I go up to the 
door, and there's a lady at a desk inside. I say, "Is it all right to 
visit the church? Are they having mass right now?" And she said, 
"There's no mass today." I said, "Why not? It's St-Jean right?" She 
said "Yes, it is, but the priest isn't here." "Where is he?" I asked. 
"He has the day off," she told me. "He's in his cottage in the 
Laurentians!"

Sei started laughing again, though not so loudly, and added:

--And even I was thinking, Wow! If Mother Superior'd been there the 
priest'd have his head handed to him! 

--I take it Canadians aren't very religious then?

--Hell no. Not any more, anyway. This town's full of churches. They 
have one of the biggest churches in the world here, Oratoire Saint-
Joseph on Mont-Royal. It's empty. They all are. Nobody goes to mass 
here but pensioners and Third World immigrants. I still can't believe I 
had to pay four dollars just to go into the Basilica. That's how few 
people go to mass on a Sunday. So I don't know what Mother Superior 
told you, but if you're expecting everyone to be praying to Ste. 
Marguerite every day before breakfast, you're in for a real shock. 
Suits me just fine, by the way. More bullshit I never want to be 
bothered with again...

I bit my tongue. I had never liked it when Sei mocked religion, any 
religion. Part of it, I suppose, was my own upbringing, but not all. It 
was as if Sei was trying to deceive me, or herself. I knew about Shiori 
Kubo. I supposed it must have been her spirituality that had drawn Sei 
to Shiori, her virtue--not to say her purity. I knew it was Yumi's 
innocence that Sei loved. She wouldn't have been so upset about what I 
had told her about Yumi and Sachiko if it wasn't. For all I knew she 
loved me for much the same reason, though I had no way of knowing for 
sure. 

--Actually, said Sei, sobering up, you should be able to see the 
Oratoire about now. See the mountain up ahead? That's Mont-Royal. 

Sei indicated out the window. I looked out to see the mountain, covered 
in trees just now turning to their autumn colours. Clearly visible on 
the slope was the Oratoire's white dome. That was the first sight I saw in
Montreal.

---

A corridor in the Gare Centrale led us to Bonaventure metro station. 
Sei showed a card to the attendant at the ticket booth, and passed him 
some coins, indicating me. 

--Est avec mo�, elle. Une adulte. 

--Ouan.

The attendant let us through the turnstile, and I followed Sei 
downstairs to the track. An orange sign above us read HENRI-BOURASSA.

--Where are we going exactly? I asked.

--My place, near Beaudry station. This train doesn't go right there. 
We'll have to change trains at Berri-UQ�M, so don't get too comfy. 
'Course, the seats are plastic, so that's not easy. They built the 
metro for the 1967 World's Fair, I think, so the whole thing's very 
Sixties. I guess it was supposed to look futuristic, but it's a Sixties 
sort of futuristic, like something out of Star Trek.

--Is that bad?

--No. I like it. Retro is good. They're just really, really proud of 
Expo. Like they're in denial that it ended forty years ago. I'll have 
to show it to you if we have time--over the corridor in Berri-UQ�M 
towards the yellow line that goes to Parc Jean-Drapeau--the island 
where they had Expo--they still have the old sign that used to hang at 
the Expo entrance, saying "Bienvenue � Terre Des Hommes." "Welcome to Man
and His World."

--Hm.

--I'm not boring you, am I? 

--No, not at all, I replied. 

Admittedly I might have been more enthusiastic if I'd had more sleep, 
but Sei was clearly relishing the role of tour guide, and I hadn't the 
heart to tell her to stop. I couldn't remember her ever this talkative. 
It was as if she hadn't talked to anybody in ages.

--It's just...you make it sound like the city's living in the past, I 
added. I thought you said living in the past was bad...

Sei chuckled.

--"Very well, I contradict myself." Whitman.

On the walls of Bonaventure station were several advertisements, and I 
read them while we waited. Two in particular on the other side of the 
track caught my eye, one reading:

FAITES-LE � L'�GLISE!

and another:

97% LE PENSENT. 3% LE FONT.

Sei noticed me reading them. She chuckled.

--I love those ads. "Do it in church!"

--Um...do what exactly?

--Relax. It's a joke. The ad's for cellphones. Hm. Actually, using your 
cell in church really would be rude, wouldn't it?

A rumbling noise started coming from our left.

--There's our train, said Sei.

---

It actually took a couple of seconds more before the blue metro train 
arrived in the station. The train wasn't terribly crowded, and we 
easily found two empty seats. As we pulled out a recorded female voice 
announced the next station in a tone both clear enough even for me to 
understand, and somehow oddly comforting.

--Prochaine station, Square-Victoria.

--But no, Sei went on, I love the metro. Every station's a little 
different. They've prettied it up too with lots of modern art and 
stuff...pretty cool. One weekend I had nothing to do and I was short on 
cash, so I couldn't afford to do anything that cost money, so I decided 
to see if I couldn't stop and look around each and every station on the 
metro in a single day. I had my pass, so it didn't cost me a cent. 
Spent the whole day there.

Sei looked at me and smiled sheepishly.

--Call me crazy.

--You're crazy, I said, smiling back, giggling.

Sei couldn't help giggling too. When she was done she went on:

--Square-Victoria's got a real M�tropolitain sign outside the station, 
like they have out front of the Paris metro stations. I should show it 
to you... 

--If you like, I said.

--Actually, Sei said, how long are you in town? Three days? 

--Four, counting today. My flight to Toronto's on Sunday night.

--Station Square-Victoria. 

--We should figure out where you want to go. You said you wanted to 
look at universities...English ones or French?

--English. I have enough English to pass the TOEFL, but French...I 
don't think I have much chance with the French universities...

--Prochaine station, Place-d'Armes.

--Okay. That leaves McGill and Concordia. And honestly, Concordia's not 
worth crossing an ocean for. What the hell. I'll show you McGill. 
McGill we can get out of the way in an afternoon. I mentioned Star Trek 
just now. Wait until I show you the William Shatner student union...

--Really?

--Really. He graduated from McGill.

--Well!

--The rest of the time...what _am_ I gonna do with you until Sunday, 
eh?...We just had the Thanksgiving holiday here. Just in time to see 
the leaves turn. You still like that sort of thing, right? If you like 
we can go up Mont-Royal, or Parc Jean-Drapeau. Maybe the Jardin 
botanique, too. I can show you the Olympic Stadium... 

--Station Place d'Armes. 

--Actually, I wouldn't mind seeing a few of the churches in town, I 
said.

Sei pulled a face.

--Is that all right? I asked.

--Prochaine station, Champ-de-Mars.

--Not my thing, is all. But I guess you're under orders from Mother 
Superior...

--I wouldn't say that. But all the same...

--Hm. Well, there's the Oratoire Saint-Joseph...actually, the Basilique 
Notre-Dame is at Place d'Armes, the station we just passed. There and 
Chinatown. We can go there too if you like...

--What about Notre-Dame-de-Bon-Secours?

--Oh, that? That's in the old city. At Champ-de-Mars. You'll just die 
if I don't take you there, won't you?

Sei was starting to get on my nerves again.

--I was actually looking forward to it, yes. Why don't you want me to 
go? 

--It just...it reminds me too much of Lillian. Okay? Anyway, I hardly 
ever go to Vieux-Montr�al. It's a tourist trap even during the summer, 
sort of place you go so you can pretend you're in Paris. Anyway, you 
got here pretty late in the year, so a lot of the stuff there's closed 
for the winter already. Bon-Secours has a museum, but I don't know if 
it's closed yet or...

--I've never been in Paris. My year we went to Rome. Look, it's worth a 
try, right? If you really don't want to go, I can go on my own...

--Station Champ-de-Mars. 

The doors opened. I had just about had it with Sei. I stood up, with 
half a mind to step off the train right then and there. Sei must have 
thought I really was going to run off, because she rose as well.

--Okay, okay! I'm sorry...actually, we could go to March� Bonsecours, 
and you could go to the church if you want...how's that sound?

To try to stop me from running off, I thought, Sei had grabbed my hand. 
The doors closed again. She didn't let it go.

--Prochaine station, Berri-UQ�M.

Sei was looking me in the eye, an imploring look in her own eyes that 
I'd never seen before. Almost panic. She gripped my hand tightly, as if 
she was afraid I'd disappear if she let me go.

--Just don't run away on me like that. Okay?

--I'm sorry, I said. 

And I was. Sei slowly let go of my hand.

--What's March� Bonsecours? I asked

--The old market near the church. It's all converted into fancy 
boutiques. 

--How fancy?

--Really fancy. Trust me, you can't afford a darned thing in there.

--Good! That's the best kind!

--How materialistic of you.

For some reason, that struck me as terribly funny, funnier than it was 
probably intended to be. I burst out laughing.

--I think Yumi's been a bad influence on you, Sei added, laughing too.

--Has she?

We both started giggling again, until we heard:

--Station Berri-UQ�M.

--That's our stop, said Sei. Come on.

---

Sei and I got out of the train, and I followed her to the escalator 
downstairs to the green line. The roof of the green line platform was 
easily higher than that of many churches. Just above the tunnel where 
the trains emerged was an enormous painting of what appeared to be two 
men and a woman, though the painting was more than a little abstract, 
making it difficult to tell their genders, much less who they might be. 
It reminded me somehow of the sort of painting one might find behind an 
altar in a modern church. Perhaps it was the Holy Family.

We stood together by the wall of the platform; standing was more likely 
to keep me from dozing than sitting, even if there had been any spare 
seats on the platform. I decided to ask Sei if she knew who the people 
were in the painting, to make conversation and keep myself awake.

--I'm not sure...I think the woman's Jeanne Mance and one of the guys 
is Lord Maisonneuve. Don't know the other guy's name. Founders of the 
city, basically. What did I tell you about that art? Really Sixties.

My eyes alighted on the green sign on the platform that read HONOR�-
BEAUGRAND. 

--Who is Honor� Beaugrand?

--Folklorist. Collected folktales all over French Canada. Like the 
chasse-galerie.

Sei looked at me just then, and added:

--You know that story, right? They told it to us at Lillian Elementary.

--I didn't go to Lillian for elementary. I never got to hear it.

--Point.

Sei leaned against the wall, shutting her eyes, as if trying to 
remember the details of the story. Suddenly her eyes flicked open, her 
face drained of all expression.

--The chasse-galerie are a group of men who have sold their souls to 
the devil. Often they are lumberjacks, working hundreds of miles from 
civilization, spending the New Year in northern camps far from their 
villages and the ones they love. The devil comes to offer them a deal. 
He will make it possible for them to go home to their loved ones for 
New Year's Eve and be back at camp by morning, by allowing them to fly 
home in an enchanted canoe. There are two conditions which the men must 
meet; if they do not, the devil will take their souls. Condition one: 
during their flight, under no circumstances must their canoe touch a 
church. Condition two: no matter what they do, none of the men in the 
canoe must utter the name of God.

Then she looked back at me.

--Those conditions weren't as easy as they sound. Because the church 
was the tallest building in your typical village, so you would have had 
to fly pretty high to fly halfway across Quebec and not touch a church 
steeple. That and lumberjacks swear like sailors, and it's pretty hard 
to swear in Canadian French without blaspheming. All their cuss words 
are the names of holy objects, tabernacle, host, chalice and so on, or 
people, like Christ or the Virgin Mary, so if you're really pissed 
about something you wind up saying something like...

Suddenly she drew a deep breath and appeared to break into a fury, 
yelling at the top of her voice so everybody in the station could hear: 

--Osti de maudit de tabar-NAK de CHRIST de saint-sacra-MENT...

Sei started kicking and screaming at the wall for good measure. People 
started to stare at her. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry or beg 
her to stop.

--...de BAT�ME de C�LISSE de CIBOIRE de sainte-VIARGE!

Sei suddenly stopped as quickly as she'd begun, and grinned at me.

--Awake yet?

I started laughing nervously, while all the people who'd been staring 
at us immediately began to pretend they hadn't noticed a thing. Sei 
started to laugh too.

--I learned how to do that pretty quick! she added.

Once we were done laughing, though, I had to ask:

--And?

--And what?

--Does the devil get the souls of the lumberjacks?

The train towards Honor�-Beaugrand station emerged from the tunnel.

--Depends on the lumberjacks, said Sei.

--- 

--Station Beaudry.

--Okay, said Sei. Get your stuff, and I'll show you Jacob's Ladder.

Jacob's Ladder? I thought. The doors of the metro opened, and I grabbed 
my backpack and followed Sei on to the platform. The doors shut behind 
us and the metro went on its way. As it pulled out I thought I heard a 
chord being played.

--What's that tune? I asked.

--What, you mean when the metro pulls out? Just the noise of the 
machinery on the train, said Sei. It sounds like music, though, yeah. 
Pretty cool, eh?...Okay. This way.

--What do you mean by Jacob's Ladder? I asked, following Sei towards 
the SORTIE exit sign.

--That's what I call it. That, or the Stairway to Heaven. You can call 
it what you like.

--Is it another piece of art?

--Not exactly, no.

It wasn't a ladder either, of course, or even a stairway as such. 
Leading from the platform of Beaudry station to the street was a long 
moving sidewalk, of the sort one sees in airports, but not often in 
subway stations. An old woman in a veil--an Arab, I guessed--was taking 
the left-hand sidewalk down into the station, while a couple of well-
groomed young men, who had gotten out just ahead of us, were already 
heading up on the right-hand sidewalk towards the street. I hesitated a 
moment. 

--After you, said Sei. I'll catch you if you faint from exhaustion.

She was behind me, so I wasn't sure whether she was joking or not. It 
took a little while to get to the top, long enough that when I got to 
the top I was no longer paying attention and almost did trip. 
Fortunately I regained my footing, and walked through the door of the 
station. The first thing I noticed on the opposite side of the street 
was a liquor store, apparently called SAQ-Le Village. 

--Check ben �a! said Sei from behind me. 

I turned around to see Sei dramatically gesturing toward the door to 
Beaudry station, which I now saw had pillars in rainbow colours just 
above the door. It was then that I realized what "village" I was in. 

--See that? First time I saw that, I thought, welcome to heaven!

---

We didn't have that much farther to walk. Sei lived in a modest 
townhouse a couple of blocks from the station. Sei let herself in the 
front door. Once in the hall I could smell something cooking.

--Madeleine, chus rentr�e! T'es-tu l�?

--Ouais, j'arrive.

After a minute or so ("My landlady's old, she's kind of slow; don't 
worry, she's coming," said Sei), Sei's landlady came into the hall.

--Salut, Sei. C'est-tu ta blonde, elle?

--J't'ai dis, est pas ma blonde! Est une amie, juste. Shimako, this is 
Madeleine Cadieux, my landlady. 

Madeleine Cadieux was a plump French Canadian woman--I never asked her 
her age, but I suppose she was in her sixties. She smiled at me and 
offered her hand, which I accepted, bowing slightly as I did.

--Je suis heureuse de faire votre reconnaissance, I said in my 
carefully practiced French. Je me pr�sente: Shimako Todo.

It must have sounded rehearsed, because she laughed and said replied:

--Fais-to� pas, j'te mangerai pas! Mo�, c'est Madeleine. Entre, entre, 
assis-to�...Shimako, n'est-ce-pas? J'vais faire des hot-dogs pour 
d�ner, tu veux-tu que'qu'chose � manger...?

I knew she had to be speaking French, but I had never learned to speak 
it all that well, and Mme. Cadieux spoke so quickly, and her Canadian 
accent was so thick, that she was all but incomprehensible. Sei took 
pity on me.

--� parle pas fran�ais, elle.

--Do you speak English? said Mme. Cadieux.

--Yes...I speak a little...a bit...

--Do you want some lunch? I am making hot-dogs...

--No...thank you...I want...to sleep...I said as best I could, making a 
"pillow" out of my hands and resting my head on it.

--Laisse-la tranquille, said Sei, � vient d'arriver � Dorval du Japon, 
� n'a pas dormi...� veut cracher en haut, juste. 

--Ah bon...pis to�, Sei, tu veux-tu...

--Donne-mo� une minute, Madeleine, j'arrive. 

--OK...bon dodo, Shimako!

---

Sei led me upstairs to her room.

--Smart move. That's why I've been putting on weight, Sei said. She 
keeps making me eat. I've had to learn to blow her off. Were you 
actually hungry though?

--No...I did nothing on the plane but eat...

--Figures...Okay, you'll be in here. You're the guest, you need a bed. 
I'll be on the couch in the living room.

--Will you be all right?

--It's a comfy couch, so yeah.

Sei led me into her room and put my hand luggage in a corner. I took 
off my backpack and looked around the room. Across from a double bed--
Sei's, obviously--was a cheap combination wardrobe, mirror and dresser, 
with Sei's makeup sitting on the dresser beside some older perfumes and 
makeups that might easily have been there for thirty or forty years. 
Sei had put Yumi's frog sitting flush with the mirror.

On one wall was a picture of Our Lady, as well as another picture of 
the man I had seen on the billboard on the train from the airport. 

--Apparently this is Mme. Cadieux's old room--Madeleine's mother, I 
mean, said Sei. This is her mother's house. She moved back in to look 
after her mother before she died, and stayed here after she died. Oh 
yeah--guy on the wall's Fr�re Andr�, guy who built the Oratoire. 
Apparently he was a faith healer. Madeleine tells me to pray to him 
whenever I feel sick. 'Course, I never do...

--Isn't she married? I asked.

--Madeleine, you mean? Nah. She was, but the husband left her years 
ago, for...I dunno...some good-looking bimbo, was more or less what she 
told me. What'd she call her? Belle mais �paisse. Pretty but dumb. When 
Madeleine's father died her mother made her husband's pension go 
further by renting out Madeleine's old room. Now Madeleine makes her 
alimony go further by renting out her mother's old room. 

--You know a lot about her, I said.

--She told me. She'll tell all her business to anyone who'll listen. 
She's an old woman, she's lonely, her friends are starting to die off. 
Hardly ever goes out any more except to go grocery shopping and go to 
funerals, or mass. No kids either. Says she's got a brother, but he's 
in Toronto and never visits or even calls, even at Christmas. I think 
she needs the company as much as the money. Fine by me. Small price to 
pay for free French lessons and dirt-cheap rent in the Village.

--I thought you spoke French.

--Not really. Not like her. There's really no good way to learn, except 
to live here for a while. All the French I learned, when I had to learn 
to speak it for real, I learned from her. That, and TV. 

--I see.

--We get on pretty well, actually. When I asked if it was all right for 
you to stay over, she said, "So, I'm going to meet your Japanese 
blonde, finally?" I said, "There aren't any blondes in Japan," then she 
laughed and said she meant my girlfriend. That's what she was asking me 
when you came in. "Is this girl your girlfriend?"

--There's really nobody else?

--Hm?

--You're not seeing anybody right now?

Sei pulled a face.

--I don't like French Canadian girls. They're ugly. 

She must have decided that by itself that would be a very lame excuse, 
because she went on:

--Anyway, not like I could really stay here if I did. She told me 
upfront, you pick someone up at a bar and you try bringing her here, 
out you go. You're actually the first visitor I've had here. Just now 
she was joking, I think, but it actually took a while to convince her 
you were just a friend from school. 

--I see.

--Not that I blame her really. She's rented to too many assholes who'd 
bring a new boy home every night, or try to. Truth is she doesn't like 
gay people very much. 

--Does she know about you? I had to ask.

--Yeah. She figured it out pretty quick. 

--But then, why...?

--Because I behave. Helps I'm a girl, I guess. She tells me I'm the 
best lodger she's ever had. Of course that's usually after she makes 
some crack about les crisses de tapettes--the goddamn faggots--making 
it too expensive to live around here, causing trouble and running the 
place into the ground, then she'll realize she's talking to me and say, 
"Oh dear, I don't mean you, Sei!"

--You don't take it personally?

--No, I don't take it personally. After she's done with the gays she'll 
start in on the Muslims, taking everybody's jobs and refusing to learn 
French...Look, she's good people really. She's old. Old people don't 
like things to change. She was living here long before this 
neighbourhood became the Village. Besides, she never gets out any more. 
All she does is eat and watch TV. No family, no friends. What else is 
she going to talk about? 

Sei said that very firmly; I wasn't sure whether it was so much to 
underline the truth of what she'd said, or just to declare the subject 
closed.

--Sorry to talk your ear off like that, she went on. It's eleven-
thirty. When do you want me to give you a shake?

--Hm. I don't know...four o'clock, maybe?

--Okay. You sleep. If you want anything, I'll be downstairs trying to 
read Atwood and not eat too many hot dogs, and thinking where to take 
you for supper. Nice thing about this town is you won't go hungry. 
Trust me, there's more to eat on rue Saint-Denis than hot dogs. Sweet 
dreams...

Sei walked out of the room and shut the door. I lay down on the bed, 
not bothering to undress or even pull the covers over me. So Sei was 
alone. Of course I had had no idea what Sei's life was like in Canada. 
Then again, Sei had never talked much about herself even in the old 
days at Lillian. She had only told me and Yumi about Shiori Kubo 
because everybody knew about Sei and Shiori, so there was no point in 
keeping it a secret from us. It's possible she'd told me more about 
herself on the way home from the airport than I'd heard the whole year 
I knew her at Lillian Academy. 

Just then I realized where I had seen that light in her eyes before. 
I'd seen it, sometimes, when she was teasing Yumi.

Did Sei really think I had become beautiful? 

For that matter, did Sei really believe she was in heaven? It occurred 
to me that Sei must be terribly lonely. She had no other Japanese 
people to talk to as far as I knew. I was the first to visit her here. 
Sei must have been overjoyed to see me. I had to wonder whether just 
now Sei had really been talking about Madeleine or about herself.   

I slept more lightly than I thought I would; whether it was excitement 
or the side effects of the coffee I'd drunk on the plane I don't know. 

I dreamt I was back on the moving sidewalk, moving up towards the light 
of the street. Just then, on the left sidewalk, I saw Sachiko pass by 
me, in her old Lillian school uniform, a defeated look on her face. I 
looked behind me to find Sei, but she wasn't behind me after all. I 
turned back to where Sachiko had been, but she had disappeared into the 
dark of the station below. Coming slowly down the sidewalk was Yumi 
following Sachiko down into the dark. Just behind her was Sei.

TSUZUKU




	

	
		
__________________________________________________________ 
Find your next car at http://autos.yahoo.ca

             .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
             | Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
             | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
             |     Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject     |
             `---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'