My Ottawa Lynx. Virginie T.
>
Virginie T.
My Lynx Ottawa
Isabelle is a solitary Parisian who moves to Canada to work. Achak is a Native American belonging to Ottawas tribe. She`s afraid of him, he`s irremediably attracted to her. Their meeting will make sparks fly, especially since his tribe`s got an extraordinary power. If you love sexy love stories and metamorphs, this is the book for you.
The Intellectual Property Code prohibits copies or reproductions for collective use. Any representation or reproduction, in whole or in part, made by any process whatsoever, without the consent of the author or his successors, is unlawful and constitutes an infringement, under articles L.335-2 and following of the Intellectual Property Code. All rights reserved.
Here I am in Canada. I had not realised yet until now that my life had turned 180 degrees. But now I could not bury my head in the sand. I have left Paris, an incredibly suffocating city with its buildings, its pollution and its two millions inhabitants, who run everywhere at anytime, to arrive in this green setting at the edge of Huron lake, on Manitoulin island, population : thirteen thousands autochthons. Vanishing in the crowd will be less easy here.
I'm 25, I never travelled all my life and I came here, on the other side of the world or almost, to work and start from zero . A new country for a new life, a radical way of turning the page on a painful past that I prefer to forget. Well, work is a big word. I take care of children, I'm a young au pair girl, even though I think the word young doesn't really match me anymore. It's my passion and when I've seen the advert of a Canadian family looking for a French girl to take care of her 4 year old daughter I threw myself at the chance. After all, it's not like I had left someone behind me.
I've always been a loner, I don't really have friends , let alone a boyfriend. It's not a choice of mine, rather theirs. I'm shy and withdrawn, I don't approach people and when they approach me I feel uncomfortable. They rapidly find me wierd, not worthy of interest, and they move rapidly towards someone who's more open. I don't lack personality though, but opening myself to others is difficult for me.
With children it's easier. They don't judge anyone. No physique imperfetcion, no state of mind is unaccpetable for them. They are little beings full of curiosity and kindness during their tender age. With them being myself is enough, I don't need to hide behind a fake smile or to make efforts to talk to them and this is cool . No pretending. I talk to them easily. They even find me funny and they love my stories.
My parents died last year in an accident, I had no ties anymore and I needed an extreme change in my life. It was time to take my life in my hands. I dream of having a social and sentimental life and that's an impossible thing to do for me in the middle of the human tide that is the French capital. Suddenly, I took the plunge and I was at the conquest of Canada.
The taxi stops in front of a house that overlooks the Blue Jay Creek park, getting me out of my introspection. I’m stunned by the view I have in front of me. It’s a huge house, all made of wood, on one floor, surrounded by a balcony and with big glazed bays to enjoy the breathtaking view . The kind of house that I dream of, but for which I’ll never have means enough. I had a feeling that the family that had taken me on was rich . After all, not everybody can afford to have someone at home 24 hours a day, but I didn’t expect that.
I pay and thank the driver, so kind, compared to the always silent taxi drivers from Paris, I get out ofthe car, take my suitcase with my few belongings inside and I get ready for the most important meeting of my life. Or I hope so. Until now, I was in contact with the Pontiac family only by mail, through the Canadian employment agency that connects the employer and the young aupair, describing my experience, my way of working and my will to move from my country, things that allowed me to be hired. It was always easy for me to express myself in written words, this counterbalances my weakness in oral communication. Through written words I manage to let out my cheerful, determined and joyful side, that I’m not able to show when I’m face to face.
Mr and Mme Pontiac walk towards me and it takes me one minute to examine them. They both have long black hair, but their resemblance stops there. The man in front of me is tall, with olive skin and blue eyes, and he amazes me for his presence. The woman has hazel eyes and a slender figure, highlighted by her pale skin. They look at me with a warm smile on their faces. Phew, this is going to help me.
– Goodmorning, you must be Isabelle ?
– Goodmorning, Mr and Mrs Pontiac, delighted to meet you.
– Welcome to Manitoulin. Did you have a pleasant trip ?
I don’t have the time to answer because a blue eyed brown whirlwind, with olive complexion like her father, comes running and start jumping all around me, crying: « It’s her ! it’s her ! »
That’s why I love children. They have this catching joyfulness. I start to laugh in front of this little face full of enthusiasm and I get down to her height to talk to her.
– Goodmorning, little rascal. You must be Aiyanna. My name is Isabelle. I think I’m here to spend some time with you.
– Come, come, I’m gonna show you your room, it’s just besides mine and then we’re gonna play hide and seek and leapfrog and…
– Calm down, her mother replied. I’m sorry, Isabelle. She’s been like this since yesterday, when we told her about your arrival. It’s a good thing we didn’t tell her about it one month ago, when we got in touch, we would have never survived her enthusiasm. You won’t have time to get bored with this little monster.
I could have misunderstood her words without the radiant smile of the mother for her daughter and the tender stroke she gave on her child’s cheek. You can immediately understand the love she feels for her child, the unconditional love that parents have for their offspring. I feel a slight pain thinking of the absence of my parents, I miss them a lot. I remember with nostalgia the long talks we had as well as the lightest shared moments.
– That’s nothing, Mrs Pontiac. Little lady, if that doesn’t bother your parents, you can show me where to place my belongings and where I can cool off, the trip was a long one.
The kid doesn’t even ask her parents and she drags me towards the house pulling my arm. I feel that these days are not gonna be easy, but at the same time, the enthusiasm of this little girl is catching. When I look at her I can’t help smiling and I really needed this cheerfullness in my so dejected life.
I’m heading towards my brother Tyee house with this feeling that something is coming.
I’ve always had premonitions, but, for the first time in my life, signs are not clear. The foreign girl must have arrived right now. I warned him not to hire someone who’s not one of us. A woman from our tribe could have taken care of my niece, but Aquene, my sister-in-law, wants her daughter to have a spirit that is open to the whole world, to cultures different from ours.
We are Ottawas. We are a powerful Native American tribe, but Aquene has chosen a French girl to take care of her daughter. As if our culture wasn’t rich enough, with all the spirits that watch over us and talk to us.
My knowledge is big, I feel them all, hence my name. It’ s one of my gifts, I feel all the spirits of my people, from the Great Manitou to Corbeau, and some of them talk to me in my sleep or in my prayers. Now today, I know that something important is going to happen, something that is going to upset my people, but I’m not able to identify the nature of this sign. Is it a danger or a blessing ? Why don’t spirits come to help me protect my people ? They’ve never been so unclear and silent. Did we disappoint them ? The knot in my stomach confirms that something important, maybe even crucial, is going