BRUCE BENDERSON 'MY STORY, MY DREAM' стр.23

Papa is an extraordinary accordion player. When I was small, he was part of an orchestra that played at weddings and holiday celebrations, not only in our little suburban village of Charlemagne but everywhere in the region—in Repentigny, in Lanaudiere, in east Montreal. When he rehearsed alone or with his friends, the sound of his accordion thrilled me, so fluid and joyful, so very sweet—just like him. He always had a very distinctive way of playing. Basically, my father revealed a lot more about himself to us through his music than he did by talking to us. When he played, he even looked different. And he was always smiling.

So I used to listen to him and so did the other members of my family. He played standing up, his back against the wall of the kitchen or the living room. And I think all of us were surprised to see that this man, who ordinarily demanded so little attention, suddenly stood out when he played his accordion. He did more than play. He put "soul" into the music. And that was something we all could feel; it "knocked us out." Sometimes, as well, he would improvise, or he mixed musical genres and all sorts of melodies, old tunes he'd taught

us and rock riffs that my brothers were listening to at the time. Then he could feel he had hold of us, and he was happy . . . and so were we. And he'd wink at us. My father is the world champion of winkers.

Playing music is also how he seduced my mother. I can guess well enough how he went about it. When my father plays the accordion, he can become dangerously seductive. As a musician, he has this unusual talent of entering directly into people's hearts, of really touching them.

Like him, my mother had been transplanted from the Gaspe peninsula—from sea, forest, and sky—to La Tuque, which is in the most remote part of the Mauricie region of Quebec—with its factories and smoke. That's where they met. She was seventeen, he was twenty-one. He had his accordion, she her violin. They both knew the same repertoire of reels. They played the "Hanging Man Reel" (Le Reel du pendu). He showed her the chords to "Mockingbird" (L'Oiseau moqueur). A year later, they were married. And then came the children, from Denise to the twins, thirteen children in sixteen years—quite a figure. Then me, unexpected, a mistake, a few years later.

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