"WHAT??"

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Bird had a bad day on Sunday; side effects from the radiation therapy probably. He wasn’t into going to the hospital, so I stayed with him and we waited it out. By the time Fran dropped in around 3 PM, he was feeling better, and when I returned to replace her around 7 PM, even better still.

On Monday he was in top shape, considering his condition. Yesterday, we were back at the hospital for his 2nd radiation treatment, and we shared the usual laughs on the long drive back and forth. He’s a terrible tease and, more often than not, bests me with his witty remarks. His voice is still hardly louder than a whisper, but he manages to make himself understood, in spite of my slightly deaf ear. Anyone sitting in the back seat would hear a conversation something like this:

“ Psst, psst, psst psst.”

“What? “ (Me, leaning my head towards the passenger side, trying to keep my eyes on the road.)

“Pssst, psst, psst.”

“Shut your darned window! I still can’t hear what you’re saying!” I’m frowning by now. Bird rolls his eyes, shakes his head slightly, and hits the automatic button to close the window, then raises his whisper a level. The spectator in the back seat will still not be able to discern his words.

“PSST, PSST, PSST!” I’m looking more at Bird than at the road. It’s a lip-reading exercise. I usually understand by the 3rd repetition.

“Of course I saw that pedestrian!” I answer. “Whaddya talking about? I missed him by a mile!”

I glance at the dude on the corner of the sidewalk. He does look a little white-faced, and is he staring at ME? The traffic light changes to green. I check in my rear view mirror, and note that the dude waits until we’ve rolled passed before attempting a second crossing. I’m not looking at the Bird now, but still catch every other word he’s whispering.

“Psst, psst…window closed...psst, psst…not smell…psst, psst…that poor…psst, psst….in his pants! “ He’s looking at me and grinning. The back seat spectator won’t have to lean forward to hear my loud retort of “F*ck you Bird!!!”, nor our laughter.

I should say hear MY laughter. Bird’s sound is similar to that asthmatic wheeze of the cartoon dog, Muttley. His head is nodding with the effort, but it comes out like a whispered “Hee-hee-hee-hee”.

This type of conversation happens over and over again during the drive. The spectator will probably lean back in the seat, lose count of the number of times the windows go down, then up , then down, then up; and, like me, he will strongly suspect that my mouthy bro’ times his remarks on purpose just to watch my reaction.

One thing for sure – this same spectator will feel the easy closeness between the siblings in the front seat. Even if he can only catch an occasional word of the repartee, I’m certain it will make him SMILE.

Sending mine out to you, folks, and wishing you a great day!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.