Lucy Cloud by Anne Lévesque

Author:Anne Lévesque
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pottersfield
Published: 2018-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

BLACK MAGIC WOMAN

The Marxist is having a potluck and Wendy is taking Lucy because there’s going to be another little girl there.

‘And a baby, won’t that be fun?’

She makes her Swedish Meatballs and stops at the liquor store for a bottle of Mateus.

They met him at Mariposa. (‘Did you know that mariposa means butterfly in Spanish?’ was the first thing he said to her.) She and Wendy had spent the day walking, listening to people singing and playing music, talking with people they didn’t know, eating a hotdog, talking with more people they didn’t know. And then, somehow, one of the people became attached to them. Like a wasp sometimes does in the summer, even after you dive under water. He was a big man with a ponytail and a short beard. He wore socks in his sandals. His name was Mark and he was a Marxist (‘I can’t stand Marxists,’ Wendy said to him, but she was laughing). He was from Toronto but moving to Sudbury – what a coincidence, that’s where they lived. He was going to teach sociology at Laurentian – what a coincidence, Wendy was taking sociology (part-time) at Laurentian. He and Wendy went to the beer tent. Lucy wasn’t allowed in; she had to stand outside with some other children. After that the Marxist bought her a Coke and a slice of pizza (Wendy had forgotten that Coke made her climb the walls).

Much later they sat with many people on the grass in front of the biggest stage. You weren’t supposed to drink beer but Wendy had some in a thermos. It got dark. And then it got cold. When Lucy woke up the next morning she was alone in the van. She looked outside. There was a white car painted with pale blue stripes and gold stars beside the van. A man was sleeping on the back seat. But it wasn’t the Marxist. Another man was walking among the cars with a garbage bag and a stick. He had short frizzy hair like her grandmother and he was wearing brown overalls with no shirt underneath. When he grinned at Lucy in the window she began to cry.

* * *

The little girl Deirdre is only four but she and Lucy have lots of fun. They run-run-run from the kitchen where the adults are standing with their drinks talking talking talking – ‘The guy’s a sociopath, not even a functioning sociopath, and no one says anything because he’s the dean’ – through the dining room where the table is laid with a royal blue cloth, past the stereo in the living room – ‘Looking for danger, looking –’ (the needle on the record player jumps) ‘– wild, wild life –’ and back to the kitchen.

‘She’s a good match for him.’

‘Who, Mrs. T?’

Laughter.

‘Are you talking about Teresita? Is that what you call her?’

‘And a battleaxe.’

Laughter.

‘That really bugs me – Bruce, would you take Sophie? When a man is strong or decisive it’s always seen as positive. But if a woman displays the same traits she’s a battleaxe.

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