143
B I G WA T E R
the other side of the street, I put my hand to my head and
realized how ridiculous I must have looked without a hat,
my hair tangled and loose.” I laugh glumly. “Look at me now…”
Daniel shrugs but doesn’t speak.
“Even then I didn’t care. What was shame compared to
the fact that my brother was gone?”
Daniel puts his hand on my shoulder, but I shift away.
“No. Don’t. Listen to me. I followed Bloor Street as build-
ings gave way to little garden plots and then farmers’
fields. Sometimes I’d hear the clip-clop of hooves and the
clucking of a wagon driver, and I’d shuffle off to the side.
I finally stopped where another river rose up from the south.
The edge of High Park. I turned into the woods and began
to head for the willow trees that line the pond. I was looking
for my brother. My dead brother.”
Daniel picks up my hand and presses his lips gently to my
palm. He smiles at me, and I think I’m going to cry for grati-
tude, for the pleasure of his touch. But I shake my head and
pull my hand away.
“I ran away. Don’t you see? I didn’t think about my parents
or my best friend Ally, who must have been worried sick.
My twin brother had just died, and I took off. Jonathan
would have comforted everyone if it were me instead of him.
But I didn’t think how they would feel or how it would look
to others. I didn’t think about how people would see me as a
streetwalker or a maniac. I thought only of myself.” I look at
Daniel again, expecting my words to provoke him, but he just
nods for me to continue.
“I stayed away all night. I lay on my back, just like last
night, watching the black sky, stars blinking in the vastness.
