My Ottawa Eagle. Virginie T.

fact. Richard is in his late 40s, and I suppose that made him hesitate when I thought, "This is the time to have a child," I thought. I didn't want Richard to be an "old" dad by taking our child to school. It's embarrassing when you say to a child, "Here's your grandpa," and he says, "That's my father. The reality had turned out to be much more painful and humiliating. He was not considering offspring at all, now or ever, and age was indeed an issue in our marriage, but it was not his, it was mine. Twenty-nine years is his age limit for his conquests.

       I remember perfectly well that day that shook my life and changed my future. I went to surprise him. I was off that day and I had planned to meet him for lunch. I'm very happy about that. I was the one who was stunned, and not in the best sense of the word. I went home without knocking, as usual, and was paralyzed by the vision in front of me. Richard was sitting in the chair behind his desk, his fly open, a trainee moaning in his lap. It was my boss's voice that had brought me out of my torpor.

      ''Cayla, what are you doing here?

      — That's all you have to say? Maybe you could pull your pants up.

      — It's not what you think it is.

      — It's not what you think? Well, let me guess. Our new reptile trainee wanted to feed your snake? "Forget it, kid, it's not an anaconda, it's a tiny little asp”.

      I left, slamming the door with the giggle of the too-young lady and the crimson face of my now ex-child. This pitiful revenge did not relieve me, however, and coming to work the next day as if nothing had happened, after ignoring countless calls from the other idiot, it was revealed as torture, as all my colleagues knew the reason for our break-up. Their support and compassion in the face of Richard's betrayal only intensified my sense of suffocation in this place I had loved so much. I could no longer bear to walk down the aisles filled with happy families and colleagues who knew too much about my problems and Richard's sex life.

       So that night, I set out to find a new job that would allow me to get away from it all while keeping in touch with the birds of prey. I wasn't ready to forget my priorities. After a lot of research, I came across the website of the Ministère de la Forêt, de la Faune et des Parcs du Québec. The MFFP was looking for veterinarians specializing in poultry to study eagles and thus better adapt their protection on the territory. Neither one nor two, I applied and was hired. Richard did try to hold me back, claiming that I had advance notice, but the threat of filing a harassment complaint, via text message, got the better of him. This is how I find myself in the riding of Temiscaming, with my camping equipment and observation gear in a small hand trailer, driving along Lake Kipawa through hemlock groves with yellow birch, a distant cousin of our common fir trees, to observe the majestic eagles that nest there. I feel laughed at in the middle of this immense landscape, some specimens reaching more than 30 meters, but also in peace. The weeks after the breakup had been morally trying and Richard's insistence on holding me back, God knows why, hadn't helped. My resignation put a definitive end to this page of my life and this peaceful silence is a real soothing balm for my bruised heart.

       

       Chapter 3Apenimon

       Fatigue is felt after driving for four hours, three-quarters of the journey, forcing me to stop in North Bay. The place is rather deserted at the end of the day. I find myself in a small, simple but functional hotel with a comfortable room and an adjoining bathroom. It's strange to be far from the island. I had never left it, except during my years at the police academy, and this change of scenery, even if it's for a good cause, stresses me out. All I need is a hearty meal and a few hours of sleep to get back on track towards my destiny. I'm feverishly impatient, but I won't reach my goal if I fall asleep at the wheel and my empty stomach won't stop gurgling. So I go to the little grill restaurant next door to get my fill before taking a well-deserved nap. The big pickups parked in the adjacent parking lot make me nervous. It's not the vehicles themselves, but rather the load they are carrying. There are cages on the rear trunk, awkwardly covered with a tarp, as well as locked metal crates, probably filled with shotguns. As a hunter myself, and one of the best, in all humility, I don't like this imbalance of power. What can an animal do when faced with a weapon that can hit it from several meters away? My beast shivers in my head at this unpleasant thought. I doubt that men who possess such an arsenal, fight fair, and when you hunt for food, you certainly don't need a cage to lock up your dead prey. Poaching may be prohibited, but wildlife trafficking is very lucrative and encourages unscrupulous people to defy the law. I do not intend to linger here or get involved in matters that do not concern me, but I will contact the county authorities to inform them of my suspicions once I get home.

       At this late hour, there are few people in the establishment and I can easily find a table to sit at. As on Manitoulin Island, this part of Quebec is mainly inhabited by Amerindians, which allows me to go relatively unnoticed. Even with a matte complexion and the same accent, I could easily pass for a local guy. At least, that's what I thought until the waitress came up to me and imposed a formal interrogation on me about anything other than my choice of menu. Besides, she was reluctant to give me the menu before she had answers about a situation that had nothing to do with her.

      — Hello. I haven't seen you around here before. Where are you from?

      Why that suspicious, highly disturbing look? She's looking at me like a juicy piece of meat that's in front of her while she's on a diet. Don't they ever get tourists in this town? On closer inspection, it's a small snack bar that doesn't look like much with only a few men looking at me like a curious beast and this middle-aged waitress who doesn't seem very friendly. Visitors shouldn't crowd at the gate. Her blonde mop tangled in a shapeless bun and her screaming lipstick barely distract my eyes from her clean, but not at all fresh, outfit. Might as well play the game and get it over with. I have nothing to hide or blame myself for and this should be over soon.

      — I just came in from Lake Huron.

      — And what are you doing in our neck of the woods?

      — Sightseeing. I'm just passing through.

      — Where do you go if you're just passing through?

      That's enough now. I'm willing to be cooperative, but there are limits. I'm a warrior, not a defendant in a police station. I usually ask the questions, and this woman lacks the subtlety of poking hard at the men at the counter. I came here to eat, not to give a lecture on why I'm here at this particular time. I take a brief look at the menu and order the specialties, cutting short her intrusion into my private life.

      — Could I have a smoked meat sandwich and poutine, please?

      She looks at me sideways, unhappy with my dodge, but finally gives up after taking another look at the hunters. Obviously, they know each other. She answers in a dry tone.

      — I'll get it to you right away. With water?

      — That would be perfect.

      She turns not without a suspicious glance in my direction. Her comments, supported by the reason I'm here, have drawn more than adequate attention from the hunters. They seem nervous and squinting, and the waitress is probably trying to identify a threat to them. The animal welfare kind of thing. I stop staring at them when my plate arrives. I don't want to get into trouble, that's not why I'm here, but I make a mental note to warn the authorities without fail.

       I take advantage of my meal to think of my companion. I wonder what she looks like. I have no preference for her looks. I don't have one type of girl that attracts me more than another, as long as she's natural and I'm confident. I'm sure the spirits have reserved the perfect woman for me. I'm more demanding about character, though. Isabelle is an adorable woman and I appreciate her a lot, but she is too shy and reserved for my taste. I would like a strong woman with a strong character who can stand up to me and who doesn't hesitate to make her own choices without fear of consequences. My animal is a predator and is far from being tamed. He and I need a companion who tells us what she thinks, who takes the initiative, and who is not afraid to put us in our place when we need her. I swallowed my meal in one go without even noticing it, so much my thoughts were monopolized by my soul mate, as often. I pay and go home right away to go to bed. I'm getting tired and a restful sleep will allow me to leave tomorrow