The Adventures of Brady and Alec

Chapter 01

Brady didn't know much as a six year old. He was learning to read and write in school, a small French boy who didn't know anything about the world.

And so there was a plane ride from the familiar lands of France, his home, his house and his room by the beach - Lambeau, oh he misses it already - and he can't help but well up with tears on maman's lap, and she gives him a small smile and a hug, pulling him closer to her chest and caressing his hair. He feels a heavy hand on his arm - his papa - and he looks up with a wobbly bottom lip at him, and he gives him a pat on the head.

"Je suis désolé, Brady," his papa said, and he didn't know why he was leaving, he didn't know where they were going, he didn't want to leave, he didn't know, he didn't know-

"Brady, se réveiller," his maman said, and he looked outside to see blue- a really vibrant blue.

And he hated it. He didn't know why but he hated it with all his heart this was stupid this isn't necessary he hates this he hates it. But he didn't know. He looks over and sees a mop of red hair. His soeur, Catherine is waking up from his papa's lap. Brady likes his soeur. She has a lot of friends and she's smart. She might know what they're doing and where they're going.

His papa picks him up, and he relaxes into his arms, as he feels himself being carried somewhere, but he doesn't know where, he just knows he's being carried, and he thinks about his friend in school, Luca.

"Luca, je déteste ça," he thinks, and falls asleep again.

He wakes up again, in a strange bed. These aren't his favourite Batman sheets, they're plain blanc, et pas doux.

His soeur is next to him, sucking her thumb, and drooling on the pillowcase. He sits up and looks around.

The room is quite barren. Brady hasn't seen it before. He doesn't like it. There's a big window, though, but there's a curtain covering it. Brady looks at the colour. Blue. He hates that colour. He likes the colour green, la couleur de les yeux de son père, les yeux de sa soeur, ses yeux.

His maman walks into the room. She's wearing a green dress. He likes that dress. He likes that colour. She smiles at him and asks him if he likes his new room.

He takes one last look around, a frown on his face.

"Je déteste ça, je te déteste!" He says. He doesn't know why he says it. He just does. It felt right. He grinned a little as he repeated it, as his mother welled up with tears.

"Brady, je suis vraiment désolé, je t'aime, Brady, s'il te plait, Brady-"

His papa walks into the room, a hard hand coming down on his back.

"Tais toi," tais toi tais toi taistoitaisitoi-

Brady doesn't know why, but he cries. He starts bawling as his maman kneels, and he walks into her arms, his forehead on her sticky chest, glistening with sweat from the unpacking of boxes and cooking of food.

His papa twists his face and turns on his heel, out of the room. Catherine wakes up, and his maman walks over to her to see how she is.

He sniffles once more, and his maman tells him he can go outside where there is a nice big yard and a box full of his toys waiting for him.

He smiles, immediately forgetting whatever he was sad about, skipping out of the room and into a corridor.

There's a banister there, and a stairwell, and if he tiptoed enough he could look over the railings of the banister and see the living room, and part of the kitchen.

He takes the stairs one by one, and then looks toward the kitchen. His papa is in there, going through the fridge.

He walks past the kitchen, and out an open door, seeing fresh green grass and a sky so blue it but his maman's favourite dress to shame.

But he walked out even more, no matter how much he didn't like it, and saw two birds sitting on telephone wires.

He looked at them as he flew away.

Brady wants to be a bird someday. Maybe a blackbird. Or a redbird. Do redbirds exist? Brady thinks redbirds exist.

Brady wants to be a redbird. Never a bluebird. He hates blue.