Searching For Home

After almost two hours of flying, the two nemusians were finally arriving towards land that was big enough to consider a continent. “There you go! I told you we’d get somewhere eventually.” Pascal said in relief. He had been worried because for a while he thought he was bringing his friend to the end of the world, since he had not learned yet that the world was round.

Tony’s hopes were rising, but he was still a little doubtful because he knew that there were several continents on Earth. Before the main continent was a small island and right next to it was another. After examining those, Tony was rejoiced. Confident of his elementary education in geography, he pointed at Ireland and said, “This is Newfoundland, and that one beside it is Nova Scotia.”

“Oh really? So you know this place?” Pascal asked, looking at the world in astonishment.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’re on the right track.” Tony answered, enthusiastic. “This has to be Quebec.” He then said, pointing at France.

“Okay, and what’s that?” Pascal demanded as he pointed at Spain.

“Umm… that’s uh… New Brunswick, if I recall.” He wasn’t sure at all about that one, but that didn’t matter. “Quebec is where we gotta go. Follow me!” Tony and Pascal then flew down to the lands below.

They made a little tour over the place, contemplating the infrastructures and the traffic below. Tony was trying to find some cues that would make him recognise the place. He would need to go farther down if he wanted to take a look at the traffic signs that could tell him where he was, but that was a risky plan because he wasn’t sure that Pascal knew how to be sneaky. But actually, he didn’t even need to do that because as they passed over the Eiffel Tower, Tony instantly knew something was wrong. “Wait a minute…” He said, and he flew far up in the sky, Pascal following behind him. He looked around in suspicion, but then Pascal shouted out: “Hey! Look over there!”

Tony looked at the place that Pascal was pointing, and then it struck him. “Are you kidding me.” He said, not wanting to believe it.

“It looks like a foot that’s about to kick a rock, doesn’t it? How cool is that?” The blond boy went on, filled with wonder and curiosity.

“Ugh! Pascal, we went completely the wrong way! We have to go all the way back in the opposite direction because of you!” Tony said angrily.

“I was only trying to help. You didn’t know where to go so I just suggested a way.”

“Do you even know where North America is?”

“Not really…” He admitted, feeling a little guilty.

“God damn it!”

The two nemusians had no choice but to go back on their tracks. They argued all the way back to Brazin Island, and Pascal kept whining that the reason this was taking so long was because Tony was too slow. From the island, they continued straight ahead, now knowing which direction they had to take. During the trip, they exchanged their ideas and their life experiences between arguments about who was the real Hero, and after a whole day of flying together, the kids started to know each other and get along. It had taken an additional five hours of flying, and at last, they had come across the piece of land they were looking for.

North America is a big continent though. Unfortunately, the countries are not all in different colours like Tony learnt it in geography. Separation lines aren’t there either. After long flying hours they landed once to have an idea of where they were, and when Tony saw the whole populace with cowboy hats and guns indiscreetly strapped to their sides, he knew he wasn’t exactly in Canada. One thing was for sure, he definitely knew that Canada was north from there. They only took the time to ask a woman in which direction north was, and as soon as she pointed, they blasted off to adventure once more. The day after, Globe-News’ first page was the picture of approximately twenty Texan citizens witnessing to have seen two children fly above Potter County.

Once in Canada, Tony quickly recognised the province of Quebec, but he still had no clue to where Val-d’Or was supposed to be on this massive chunk of land. It was now dark, and the only things they saw below them were either areas loaded with little lights of numerous colors, or just plain black. The two boys stopped, floating in midair, and gazed at the immense area of illuminated land beneath them.

“Okay, let’s play rock paper scissors to decide who chooses where to go.” Tony said loudly through the chilly night wind.

“Huh?”

Tony sighed, and taught Pascal how to play Rock, Paper, Scissors. After that, Pascal beat him.

 “So, cheater, where we heading?” Tony asked him afterwards.

Pascal looked around quickly at all the flashing light particles that came from buildings, street lights and monuments beneath him. He had absolutely no idea, so he closed his eyes, and dashed down, going left, right, up and around, until he’d eventually touch some surface. Tony tried to follow behind him, at a much slower pace than Pascal’s, and he nearly lost sight of him.

The boys landed yet at another place late at night, when all was dark around them but for the few street posts shining the entries of every alley, rendering them even more gloomy and menacing. Most of the buildings that formed the alleys, from companies to common stores and markets, were closed and seemingly empty, reflecting the vast and deserted avenue they had landed on. But a little farther away, a few buildings were still emitting light, and colourful flashing lights at that, through tinted windows. They could hear music playing, and the bass of various compositions were booming a gentle trembling below the feet of the two children.

            “Let’s go back up, there’s nothing here.” Tony said, turning away, ready to blast off.

            “Yes there is, look there’s this place there with awesome lights!” Pascal answered while pointing at a dance club, and then he left off running.

 “Never mind, we can’t go there, we’re not--He turned around to see that Pascal was already in front of the door, facing the large, square-elbowed, 6.4 foot tall moustachioed doorman with a black tuxedo.

            “Hey, do you know where Val-d’Or is?” Pascal asked the doorman.

            “What’s a little lad like you doin’ in a place like this in a time like dat?” The doorman answered, twitching an eyebrow but not moving from his cross-armed stance.

            “Lookin’ for Val-d’Or.”

            “What you talkin’ about kid? Go home; these place don’t go no safe for kids at night.”

          “It’s a town. In a country and has a Canada…something like that.”

            “Nev’ heard of’t.”

            “Really? I’ll just go ask someone in there then…” The boy said and started his move towards the door when a big muscular hand obstructed his way. He frowned, not understanding the big man’s gesture, tossed his hand away and before he could make another stride the doorman side-stepped in the entrance and blocked the way.

            “Nuh-uh, you ain’t goin’ in there.”

            “Uh-huh, I am going in there.”

            Tony arrived at the door and stepped over the three unconscious doormen. He walked through a corridor so dark that the only thing he could see was the thick cloud of smoke that was illuminated by the lamp that was over the pool table with the Rickard’s beer logo on it. He went to the counter, obviously noticing all the drunken faces gazing at him in perplexity. There was a very large dance floor, filled to the brim with people, but no one danced; they just stood there, as if waiting for some permission. Heavy music boomed in the place, and Tony couldn’t even hear himself if he didn’t scream.

            “Excuse me, my friend got lost and came in here, have you seen him? He’s about the same size and age as me. Blond and…”

            The woman pointed to a table, and when he turned around, he realized that the remaining half of the people who weren’t staring at him were looking at Pascal, but in their looks was more astonishment than confusion. He skulked to the table where Pascal was sitting in front of a man with a fedora and a half-full glass of dark liquid. Tony grabbed his blameless friend by the arm and pulled him out of the chair with authoritative force and said, “Come on, let’s get outta here before we get in trouble.”

            Pascal resisted and said, “Hey wait up, he knows where Val-d’Or is!”

            Tony turned around, and saw that no one would kick them out for the moment anyways; the whole bar was still distant because of Pascal’s flashy entrance.

            “I don’t know how you kids got all the way here without your parents, but that town’s quite far away…. eight to nine hours by car. Here’s what I can tell you: start by going to Main Street, and at the second light you turn left to Highway 317, and get the first entry to Highway 117, got that? It’s close to the Wal-Mart and the Future Shop--

            The sounds of sirens were heard outside, the music stopped abruptly, and Tony quickly grabbed Pascal and they blasted through the ceiling of the dance club’s roof.

            “Highway 117, don’t forget!” The drunken man shouted in the hole, with parts of 4x4 planks and plaster falling from the roof as a response.

            Two police officers came from the entrance. “Someone reported a crazy kid with grenades?” One of them said, and then looked at the big missing gap in the hole, and all the debris on the floor under it. “What the hell happened?”

“Did I just see a flying kid?” The man with the fedora said. He looked at his glass of rum, sighed, and threw it behind him. “That’s it, I’m going home.”

            And thus the two heroes left, in search of Highway 117.