Tag Archives: Inspiration

Citizen of Ville Joie – The pinch for Allan

12 Wednesday Dec 2012

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Daryl recounts the last night of his last summer camp in Happy Town.

“A few more minutes of silence, long enough to realize and reflect on the fact that these are my last hours as an orphan, as a Citizen of Ville Joie, and we go to bed in the dormitory located in the main camp. As we have done so many nights before, we chat in whispers some more before we fall asleep. Our nightly conversation is going just fine and the mood is light until one of the other kids turns to Allan and I and asks if we are sad to know that, after we leave in the morning, we will never see each other again. Oh, the sensitivity of a child. Although it would have hit us tomorrow, hearing the words now makes it official right at this moment and I instinctively bury my face in my pillow so nobody sees me and begin to try and cry myself to sleep as I hear Allan in the bed next to mine do the same.

The certainty of this upcoming separation has always been indeed painful. When he left the orphanage the night before Gerard and Grace came to meet me, I thought I had lost him forever. It had all happened so fast, there was this feeling of something incomplete inside of me. Allan is after all the one who thought me what having a best friend is all about and he did it just by being himself. He is the one who made our friendship what it is by taking the lead, by playing along with me and by teaching me to play marbles. He means so much to me, I feel the need to give him all the credit for “Daryl and Allan”. Luckily though, I have shared with Allan so many experiences, all of them filled with such intense emotions in the few years we have spent in Happy Town that, with the chance offered by this last summer camp, nothing is left unsaid, there is now no unfinished business between us. The tears I let out in my pillow, one for each of the marbles we have won together, are just a final pinch to my heart, a pinch he has earned over the years of moments of us, interrupted only by stays with families. A pinch he has earned over the years of uninterrupted friendship we shared no matter where we were.

The following morning when we wake up, we feel much better and after one last breakfast sitting next to one another, when the time to leave actually comes, we say goodbye like the big boys that we now are and return to our families.

I will never see Allan again.

I return with Gerard and Grace and the rest of the summer goes by very slowly, just like it’s supposed to be when you’re a kid…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com

This project is entirely written on an iPad.

I do not have representation.

Citizen of Ville Joie – One last camp

08 Saturday Dec 2012

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Daryl receives a surprise invitation.

“A few weeks after my arrival, I get the surprise of an offer to spend one last camp with my friends at Ville Joie, an offer which I promptly accept. Upon my arrival, I am greeted by the educators I love so much and to my delight, Allan himself who also received the same invitation. One last camp with my friend, which also means one last pig feed fight, one last capture of the bad guys. The games and the scenery may be the same they were in our prior camps but our experience of it all is quite different since Allan and I know we won’t go back to the orphanage at the end this time around but rather return to our respective families. This is what a real summer camp should feel like and we enjoy it that much more. Allan and I spend pretty much all of our time together, of course, and share our happiness over the fact that we both have a family now, that things are going quite well and that we are certain we will soon be officially adopted. Being orphans will become a distant memory instead of being a reality of which we are reminded every day.

On the last night of camp, after the capture of the bad guys and their cruel and usual punishment, kids and educators sit quietly by the fire. The educators, in their wisdom, suggest we use the peace induced by the fire to take some time and reflect on the last couple of weeks we just spent together and think of the memories we would take with us when we’d leave the following morning. One suggestion with as many responses as there are people around this fire. Each remains silent, each for their own reasons. My story may seem unique to me but that’s only because it is my own. It isn’t the only story among our group. Some, of course, are too young to have much to reflect upon yet as their journey has just begun. Others, like Allan and I, have quite a list of memories to chose from.

I follow the advice the educators and as I watch the flames travel up from the red hot base of the fire and wrap themselves around the dried up old wood, I am first hit by the sheer volume and the intensity of the emotions of the last few years. Maybe it’s my current state of mind, the fact that I feel secure outside the walls of Happy Town for the first time since my arrival more than three years ago but, for the first time, I can see the actual words hidden behind these emotions. Hope, joy, uncertainty, disappointments. And yes, fear. Fear is the strongest and the clearest of all the words dancing in my head. How strong these emotions had to have been for a child to be overwhelmed by their memory while sitting by a fire and be able recall them so vividly as to being able to label and name them.

I’m nine years old, I have yet to make actual sense of it all but, because my situation has improved dramatically in the last month or so since I have moved in with Gerard and Grace, I cannot to let myself reach a point where I could feel sorry for myself. I look at the flames dancing in front of me, glance at the other kids and chose to limit my reflection for now to the “wow”. The “why” will have to wait a little longer…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com

This project is entirely written on an iPad.

I do not have representation.

Citizen of Ville Joie – Being a different Daryl D.

01 Saturday Dec 2012

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Daryl moves in with his 5th family.

“And so about a week later, I move in with Gerard and Grace and change my name again to officially become Daryl D. Sounds familiar? Ironic scenario isn’t it that my dream family would make me bear the same initials as the family that turned out to be such a nightmare when I began this journey. Same initials maybe but a completely different atmosphere.

As a welcome gift and to begin my summer on the right foot so to speak, I receive a brand new bicycle, a genuine BMX which quickly becomes my most precious possession. Without even being asked to do so, I begin working with Gerard on small chores around the house and I wake up each day longing to spend as much time with him as possible. After a week or so of just Gerard, Grace and I discovering one another, it’s time for me to meet the rest of the family. All of them are nothing but nice to me which isn’t surprising given how kind and fun Gerard and Grace are themselves.

We go to church every Sunday after which Gerard invariably gets me in stitches in the car on our way back home. He waits for the most unexpected moment to let out a big and juicy swear word, usually directed at another driver doing something he doesn’t like. He knows this makes Grace apoplectic and scream “We just got out of Church” which in return makes me laugh to the point where I can barely breathe. That bit is a winner every single time. It may very well be a winner with Grace too, who I suspect plays her part to perfection just for my entertainment.

On our way home from church, we stop by the hospital where Gerard’s father is a long term care patient and we spend some time with him or even sometimes take him home with us for a Sunday lunch. He is as good a man as Gerard and since he lives in the long term care facility of the hospital, he is given access to a small wood shop made available to patients and on the second Sunday we take him home with us, he surprises me with a bird house he made just for me.

The couple next door has a couple of kids who are about my age so we become good friends and when Gerard was called in for work, I usually go play with them at their house. But it is Gerard’s company I seek most of the time and why not. Spending time with him makes life seem simple and somehow, in his presence, I feel safe and confident. It’s the same way I felt with the educators at Ville Joie, except I now feel it in a home environment.

I love spending time with Grace also. When Gerard is at work, we ride the bus together to go and visit her sisters, two western movies addict who live together about a half hour away from us and give me gifts every time they see me, or at least it feels this way. Grace is as kind and patient as she is beautiful. I see how other parents in our neighborhood can sometimes raise their voice at their kids or speak about subjects like politics or culture with an angry tone. Plus, I was born in a neighborhood where most of the time yelling was the only possible way of being heard. This never happens in Gerard and Grace’s house. Fun, politeness, kindness, patience and understanding are now my daily bread. These are, without a doubt, the best days of my young life…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com

This project is entirely written on an iPad.

I do not have representation.

Citizen of Ville Joie – Bending a young spirit

07 Sunday Oct 2012

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Daryl deals with internal conflicts (with changes to previous post).

“I am eight years old and I am beginning to feel tired. Quite frankly, at times, I also feel as cynical about my surroundings as I am about I what I feel inside. I am far from giving up, it’s just that returning to Ville Joie in these circumstances feels as though I am fighting to breathe in positive while drowning in a pool of negative. Just one of the many conflicts that end up filling the cracks and holding the pieces of my heart together after I fix it every time it gets broken. The battles these conflicts are waging inside of me are real, they are such a big part of who I am and they are slowly taking their toll on me. I guess it takes a young spirit, not yet weakened by the years, to have the natural will to live this long with this chaos that now defines my inside. But the very fact that I know there is chaos, that I know life shouldn’t feel this way, is proof that my spirit is starting to bend.

No doubt about it, I am glad to find my friends again, especially Allan who is still there, but I still have to deal with this new rejection. I also know deep inside it is going be more difficult to find a family for me this time around. It is something Allan and I whisper about late at night when the others are sleeping. We know that, with every birthday that comes and goes, we become less attractive for wannabe parents. Add this to the fact that Danielle is no longer there by my side, and I have to consider I may still be far from a break.

More Cat Stevens, and more Citizen of Ville Joie when we return.”

I look at the microphone in silence for a moment. I can feel all over again what it’s like to fear being left behind and not being sure if I would ever have a family. During this last segment, I saw a text message pop up on my phone but I didn’t look at it because I knew it was from Annie and I needed focus on the story. So I reach for the phone to read her message.

“Good God, Daryl how many? How many families were there?”

I can’t help but smile a little because I know I still have her attention, she is still listening. At this late hour, I wouldn’t blame her if her desire to listen had been tested at this point. It also makes me smile because her question brings back yet more memories from my childhood.

“Funny. I wondered that myself a few times back then. You’ll have to keep listening! Thank you for staying up so late with me tonight.

P.S. I’m texting Tweets now! Look me up”

Her response doesn’t take long.

“OMG! You’ll need to learn the lingo. Please don’t tweet that you are “texting Tweets” you’ll lose half of your followers. But I love to hear you tell your story. Keep doing it, I’m not going anywhere.”

I’m more than willing to use the technology but I will have to put my foot down for the lingo. I looked it up once, there are hundreds, if not thousands of abbreviations and the only one I knew in the lot was OMG. When I saw how long the list was, I thought WTF.

As I read Annie’s encouraging words, Susan enters the studio saying “Good God Daryl, how many more families are there?”

I slowly raise my head and ask “Are you kidding?”…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com

This project is entirely written on an iPad…and no I do not have representation!

Citizen of Ville Joie – Fear’s signature

11 Tuesday Sep 2012

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Daryl talks about fear… (Fiction part of the whole story)

“Over the years, of course, I have been approached by agents and other stations just like anybody else in the business. Agents never appealed to me; I was happy doing exactly was I was doing, nothing less and certainly nothing more. It isn’t laziness as much as it is contentment. Agents have a tendency to try and increase their revenues by increasing yours, which also means gigs I wouldn’t want to do or endorsement of stuff I couldn’t care less about. When satellite radio became a cool thing and all the big names were signed up, I was contacted by them too. This could have been a potentially lucrative endeavor, a career maker but it was new and so uncertain at the time, I passed. I passed also out of loyalty to our station and to Lenny.

Back to the meeting with Corporate. Ever since they “retired” Lenny, my contract has been renewed, and with a small raise believe it or not, on a yearly and conditional basis. In short, it means they can buy me out and terminate my employment whenever they feel like it, given they have a valid cause. When I read the contract and saw that kind of language, I asked what a valid cause was. Their fifteen minute empty answer can be resumed in a single word : anything. Whatever they can come up with will do just fine and there isn’t much I can do about it. I was so stunned I signed out of fear. Fear I was going to be let go if I objected. Fear I was going to be out of a job with no microphone already waiting for me somewhere else, which is a very bad thing in my line of work. Fear. They are so good at it. Then I signed the second year because the first went by so fast, the renewal period came and took me completely by surprise. Looking back now, it may very well have been fear again.

This last year was different. Annie was in my life and I now had the benefit of having someone strong and level headed like her by my side and help me debate the issue. Discussing my career with her made me realize how much I had become comfortable in this little misery Corporate had turned my job into. I was happy in my personal life and that made the time I had to spend at the station much more tolerable than it should have been in reality. Annie asked me to imagine for a moment how great my life would be if I was only half as happy at work as I was in my personal life. If the illusion of comfort, wether in joy or in misery, can be a powerful sleeping aid, even I wasn’t drowsy enough to not know deep down inside of me that something had to happen eventually. Easier said than done. As I said earlier, if I was going to make a move it had to be while I was still on the air but my contract didn’t allow me to speak to any potential employers until sixty days before it expired. When Jackson sent the invitation for that meeting, we were still five weeks away from that threshold.

In other words, I’m free as of today.

To say I was in a suspicious state of mind when I showed up to meet with the suits…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com This project is entirely written on an iPad…and no I do not have representation!

Citizen of Ville Joie – Smash Up Derby and Stretch Armstrong

01 Wednesday Aug 2012

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Daryl recounts the number of times he changed his name…

“So at some point during the short ride to the P family house, I become Daryl P. The moment we arrive, they all take me immediately to my bedroom which has been redecorated just prior to my arrival so everyone can pitch in to help me get my clothes out of my suitcase and put some away in the dresser while the rest of it goes in the closet. It is a gesture of acceptance on their part, a tangible way of telling me we are all in this together. Except inside of a very short minute, my suitcase is emptied of its content with the few shirts and pants I own hanging in the closet and the rest of my things neatly folded inside of a single drawer. The closet looks so sad and empty, even I have to take a second look inside of my own suitcase just to make sure we haven’t forgotten anything.

The P’s then take me on a tour of the house, recounting for me the story of every room to get me up to speed on the history of the family home. This tour ends in the basement where the surprise of a lifetime awaits me; a mountain of brand new toys complete with a Smash Up Derby set of cars, a Stretch Armstrong figurine and a Hot Wheels race track. An absolute shock that sends sends me on cloud nine. Such a shock in fact that, in the middle of that first night with my new family, I have the only sleep walking experience of my life during which I decide to go play with my toys when Mrs P wakes me up, half way down the stairs, to bring me back to my bed. We all have a good laugh about it at breakfast.

I left Ville Joie on Friday afternoon and on Monday morning it is already time for me to go to my new school. Luckily, I don’t have to take the bus as the school is within walking distance of the house. I say luckily because the new kid can never find a seat on the bus, especially when the school year has already begun. Being new is like as having the plague or something. I am able to avoid this embarrassment as the girls walk there with me and introduce me to my teacher. It is a very small school, in very small town where everybody knows everybody so the news of my arrival has been the subject of highly effective publicity campaign which means the moment I set foot in the classroom, it is complete silence and all eyes are on me. I might as well be wearing a sign around my neck that reads “I’m a freak. Please kick me”. As if I am not nervous or embarrassed enough already, the teacher asks me to stand in front of everybody and introduce myself which I do in a very shaky voice.

Every day at lunch time, I can walk back the P’s family house to have a warm meal prepared by Mrs P and get back to school with plenty of time before afternoon class. My teacher is impressed with my quick progress in catching up with the my classmates and praises my good work loud enough for the other kids to hear. The P’s enroll me in a swimming class we go to every Saturday mornings. Many families have a shared passion and swimming is a sport at which the girls excel so I was enrolled in the beginners group. I am not much of a competitive swimmer, so needless to say I’m not that excited about it but it is something the three of us kids do together.

I am now the middle child in a loving family. Everyone at school even the other kids who, let’s be honest can sometimes be mean, are nothing but nice and go out their way to make me feel appreciated and at ease. Especially Mr P. who is an extraordinary man. Several years prior to my arrival, he had been in a terrible car accident and had gone through excruciating rehab just to learn how to walk again with braces. In the basement of the house are big frames of artwork made from pieces of wood cut and assembled in the shape of fruits and animals. I am quite impressed when I am told Mr P made those during his rehab, using only his feet. Instead of succumbing to anger toward life after this bitter twist of fate, he decided to give an orphan a better life. He is such a kind man and Mrs P is always so affectionate with him, hugging him at every opportunity she has. As for the girls, they are willing to share everything they have with me spontaneously and not once did we have an argument or a fight since I got here…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com
Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com

This project is entirely written on an iPad…and no I do not have representation!

Citizen of Ville Joie – A new beginning

29 Friday Jun 2012

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Daryl describes his arrival at Ville Joie…

A recent picture of the orphanage “Ville Joie”

“So we drive for a while or at least long enough for darkness to settle outside and when we finally arrive at Ville-Joie, it’s not at all what I expected. The man in the suit told me we were going to a home. But this is a big building. He grabs my suitcase and takes me through the large and heavy doors in the front entrance where people are waiting to greet me. They all seem nice enough and they take turns introducing themselves while smiling at me. I’m not really used to it since the adults in my neighborhood never smile. Those in charge at Ville-Joie are known as “educators”. Luke, Linda, Carol, Denise, Giles, Andy, they all present their hand to shake mine which is something I have never done before. In the place I just left, if an adult extends a hand anywhere near a child, the rule is to duck to avoid the slap and run as fast as you can although, more often than not, it is more a threat of a slap than a slap itself, not as much because of a lack of will as it is a lack of interest. Somehow I have a feeling It doesn’t work like this here.

Since it is night already, there isn’t much time to talk and no time at all for a tour so this will have to wait until morning. Carol offers to walk me to the dormitory but asks me to try and keep as quiet as possible because the other kids are already asleep. She points to a bed at the very end of the large room, near the back wall and whispers that this one is just for me. We walk as quietly as possible, I sit down on my new bed and stare silently at wall in front of me. After pulling out my pajamas, Carol slides my suitcase under my bed and sits next to me. She looks at me for a short moment and then gently puts two fingers under my chin to motion my head in her direction and smiles at me as if to say that everything will be fine. Some smiles, as well intended as they are, have nothing reassuring about them. That’s how I am introduced to irony; one genuine smile for a thousand tears to come. I have yet to say a word since I sat in the car back home. Maybe I’ll talk tomorrow. I haven’t cried either since I’m still not sure what is really going on and where I come from, you better know why you’re crying because if you don’t, there’s always someone close by to threaten to give you a reason. I lay in bed facing the wall with my eyes wide opened until I can no longer stay awake and I fall asleep for exhaustion…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com
Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com

This project is entirely written on an iPad…

Citizen of Ville Joie – Misery knows no tears

28 Thursday Jun 2012

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Daryl talks about the moment he was taken from his home…

“So when a big and obviously expensive white car turned on our backstreet and proceeded to drive in our direction, we all stopped what we were doing and marveled at this shining armor with nearly dislocated jaws. Once the car came to a stop near us, a man wearing a suit stepped out of it and smiled in our direction. I watched him go up the stairs and knock on the door of my family’s unit. The other parents yelled at their kids to come home for dinner, leaving me alone in the backstreet. A few moments later, I heard my mother call out my name followed by the sound of a door slamming. When I got up the stairs and reached the mystery man, he standing next to a suitcase. My suitcase it turned out. He picked it up and instructed me to go with him. I looked at him and then I looked at the closed door of our unit for a moment. The man gently put his hand on my shoulder, directed me down the stairs, opened the backseat door of the big white car and invited me to get in. I climbed in confused, wondering what was happening and where he was taking me.

Mostly though, I was wondering where everybody was. Where were my brothers, my sister? And why did my mother stay inside? The car slowly moved forward, and as we drove away, I quickly turned around and got on my knees to look out the rear window. Maybe they were there running behind the big white car to stop the driver and rescue me. The longer I looked the emptier the street appeared and when the car turned on the adjacent street, when I could no longer see our building, I lowered myself, sat down and looked straight ahead.

I’m so glad I looked. I’m glad because instead of wondering all my life if they were there, I have always known they weren’t. No goodbyes, no hugs, no drama. I guess when people have soaked long enough in misery as the people in my neighborhood had, a life altering moment like the one unfolding for me wasn’t really deserving of a tear.

I remained silent as the man in the suit tried to explain to me the best he could he was driving me to my new home. A home with other children just like me and where I would certainly be happy since it was called Ville Joie, which means “Happy Town”. He tried to appear excited about my new situation but he wasn’t fooling me; I realized right then and there I could spot a faked smile and a faked tone of voice when they were thrown at me. I knew something quite serious was happening. I had a feeling my life had taken a turn at the same time the car turned away from our street. Of course, I wasn’t sure what kind of a turn yet, so I guess I did what anybody else would have done in my situation; I remained silent. The man in the suit kept looking in the rearview mirror and asking me if I was feeling alright. Every time he asked, I just looked back at him in the mirror and nodded “yes” without saying a word.

I couldn’t have known it at the time but ironically, keeping silent in sticky situations would later become a very annoying habit of mine. A habit that would eventually get doors slammed in my face by women walking away from me on the other side. The first woman to ever do it to me was my mother when I was six years old”…

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com
Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com

This project is entirely written on an iPad…

Citizen of Ville Joie – Annie’s note, reworked!

10 Sunday Jun 2012

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Annie left a note for Daryl before she left…

Every onece in a while…you feel the need to “tweak”…!

“I had a drink to help me clear my mind of what had just happened and went to join her in bed less than an hour later, hoping she had calmed down. I wrapped my arm around her and since she said nothing, I figured the fight was over. She must have waited for me to fall asleep to write the letter, put it on the pillow next to me and leave. Annie had told me a few times that, as a publicity writer, she didn’t feel her creativity was quite challenged enough. She is actually very good with words and her note was quite the reminder of that.

“Daryl,

We have been good together from the very moment we met. For a while, I believed we could be even better. I believed we could be great. I believed we were worth this much. I believed. Before tonight.

I have given you many chances to explain, at your pace and in your own words, the reason behind these silences of yours. The fight we had earlier made it clear that my desire to know what makes you unavailable to me when I want to be with you the most, is secondary to your need to hide it from me. Beyond your words and their meaning, it was the gesture of trust and the closeness I was hoping it would bring to us that I was looking forward to. This isn’t me trying to steal your secrets. The memories and experiences of your past will always be yours, wether you accept to recite them out loud in my presence or you choose to let this obvious pain you carry inside of you, darken some of the most precious moments we could have together.

When we are alone Daryl, I can actually feel the sun rising on us as a promise of that greatness I so wanted for us. But every time you retreat behind this wall you have built between me and your memories, the shadow it casts on my heart chills my affection for you. I have always believed that, in order to know where we are supposed to go in life, we must first know and understand where we come from. I can’t see our future if I can’t see your past and I refuse to live dishonestly by pretending “it” does not exist.

So open up to me. Trust me. I assure you, no matter what it is you end up revealing to me and regardless of how sad or terrifying you may fear your words would be, nothing could ever change what I see when I look at you; a strong, beautiful man who lives his life with an almost perfect integrity, the value I cherish above all.

I will want these tears back.

I will see you in a few days when I am calm again,

Annie”…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com
Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com

This project is entirely written on an iPad