Wait Two Seconds

The pigeon had stolen a french fry.

Not a fry that had fallen on the ground.

Not an abandoned fry.

No.

It had waited for Samy to turn his head, it had approached very quietly, as if it had absolutely no bad intentions, then it had grabbed the biggest fry from the container and had left with it.

Samy had shouted:

"Hey! That was the best one!"

We had started running after the pigeon.

Which was completely useless.

But at the moment, it had seemed like an excellent idea.

The pigeon had flown onto a bench.

Then onto a trash can.

Then onto a branch.

And from up there, it had eaten the fry in front of us.

Calmly.

As if it had won.

I think I had never laughed so much over a fry.

All the way back, I was thinking about how I was going to tell Oummi about it.

I already knew exactly how to start.

I would push the door open.

I would put down my bag.

And I would say:

"Oummi, you won't believe what a pigeon did today!"

Then, I would imitate Samy.

Maybe even the pigeon.

I was very good at imitating pigeons.

Well, I thought so.

When I got home, Oummi was sitting in the living room.

Her phone in one hand.

I came in almost running.

"Oummi, you won't believe what happened at the park!"

She raised a finger without taking her eyes off the screen.

"Wait two seconds, Rayane."

I stopped.

Okay.

Two seconds.

I put down my bag.

I stayed standing next to the couch.

Oummi was typing something.

I looked at the TV screen which was off.

Then the window.

Then my shoes.

I wondered how long two seconds really lasted.

So I started counting in my head.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

At twenty-three, I stopped.

Oummi was still on her phone.

I went to drink some water.

When I came back, she had started a voice message.

So I went up to my room.

The pigeon could wait.

---

At the table

That evening, during the meal, I remembered.

"Oh yeah! You know what happened to Samy at the park?"

Abi looked up at me.

"What?"

I smiled.

I was finally going to be able to tell.

"He had bought fries and there was a pigeon that..."

Abi's phone vibrated on the table.

He looked at it.

Just a second.

Then he unlocked the screen.

I continued anyway.

"And the pigeon, it came closer and..."

Oummi received a notification in turn.

She picked up her phone.

I stopped.

No one noticed.

I waited a bit.

Abi was typing.

Oummi was reading something.

My little brother was eating his bread.

So I picked up my fork.

The pigeon wasn't as funny anymore.

---

At our house, there were a lot of "waits"

At our house, there were a lot of "waits."

"Oummi, look at what I drew."

"Wait two seconds."

"Abi, can you come see?"

"One second, my son."

"Oummi, I have a question."

"Wait, let me finish this."

Sometimes, they really did come back.

Oummi would come into my room ten minutes later.

"You wanted to show me something?"

And then, sometimes, I couldn't quite find what I wanted to say anymore.

Or the urge had gone.

Sometimes Abi would say:

"Sorry, Rayane, what were you telling me earlier?"

I knew he was making an effort.

So I would start again.

But starting a story again is not the same.

The first time, you have the whole story in your head.

The gestures.

The voices.

The details.

You want to get it out right away.

Later, often all that's left is:

"It was nothing."

---

The very dangerous machine

One Wednesday, I built something in my room.

It had started with a big cardboard box that we had kept after a delivery.

At first, I wanted to make a boat.

Then I decided it would be a spaceship.

Then, I added four wheels drawn on the sides, so it also looked like a car.

Finally, I didn't know exactly what I had built anymore.

But it was huge.

I had cut out buttons from paper.

I had made a steering wheel out of a paper plate.

I had even written:

DO NOT TOUCH, VERY DANGEROUS MACHINE

on the side.

I went downstairs to get Abi.

He was sitting at the kitchen table with his phone.

"Abi, come see what I made."

"I'm coming."

"Now?"

"Yes, yes. Two seconds."

I went back up.

I sat in front of my machine.

I waited.

Then I moved a button.

Then I added a second button.

Then I started testing my machine by myself.

I pretended it was going to the Moon.

Then to Mars.

Then to the bottom of the ocean.

I don't know how much time had passed when Abi came in.

"So, where is this thing you wanted to show me?"

I was half lying in the cardboard box.

I sat up.

"There."

He looked.

"Wow! What is it?"

I shrugged.

"Nothing."

He laughed.

"What do you mean, nothing? It takes up half your room!"

I smiled a little.

But I didn't explain everything.

I had already taken the trip without him.

---

The shot

A few days later, we were at the park.

There was Samy, Bilal, and me.

We had decided to have a contest with our balls.

You had to shoot from a line we had drawn with a stick and hit the trunk of a tree.

Bilal had succeeded on the first try.

Samy on the third.

Me, I had missed.

Then again.

Then again.

The ball went to the left.

To the right.

Once, it even rolled behind me.

I still don't know how I did that.

Samy had made so much fun of me that he had fallen sitting in the grass.

So I practiced.