A Perfect Gentle Knight (19 page)

By the next day, the younger ones seemed to have forgotten they were ever knights. Orly and Juliet became cowboys, and Harry began going to his friend Peter's every day after school when he was free of the twins.

Corrie wandered around the house as if she were lost in it. She tried to be Sir Gareth on her own, but Sir Gareth was as lost as Sir Lancelot. All she could do was read. At least in books she could still escape into another world. Every day she wasn't at Meredith's she lay on her bed and found solace in a novel.

She couldn't escape from Sebastian's miserable, tense face, however. One afternoon she knocked on his door and asked him if anything was wrong.

“Nothing's wrong,” he mumbled.

“Why aren't we having the Round Table any more?”

“I haven't got time,” said Sebastian. “I have too much homework.”

He wasn't doing homework, though. Corrie was glad to see he was reading
The Boy's King Arthur
.

“How's Jennifer?” she made herself ask.

“I wot not how Guinevere is,” Sebastian said dully. His tragic voice made Corrie wince.

So that was it—they must have “broken up,” as Roz would call it. She forgot how much she had wanted this. Sebastian was so anguished, Corrie now wished it hadn't happened.

“Did you … did you tell Jennifer about her being Guinevere and you being Sir Lancelot?” she whispered.

“That I did,” said Sebastian. “But she was not ready to know it. I told her too soon and she did not believe me.”

Corrie wondered if Jennifer had mocked Sebastian. “Do
you
still believe it?” she asked him.

Sebastian turned back to his desk. “Would you please go, Corrie? I have a lot to do.”

Corrie sat on the hall stairs, trying to think clearly. When Sebastian had been with Jennifer he'd been strange, but happy. Now he was just strange—and so distant, as if she were neither his sister nor his fellow knight. He had never seemed this far away.

The sun coming through the bevelled windows made soft prisms on the carpet and walls. When Corrie was little she had thought the stripes of light were fairies. Hamlet slept peacefully on the landing, his fur dotted with colour. Corrie envied his utter oblivion.

She had to find out what had happened. Roz was home for dinner that night, and while they were doing the dishes Corrie asked her if Sebastian and Jennifer had stopped seeing each other.

“It looks like it. She's going out with Terry, of all people! How could she stand him?”

“Terry! Oh, poor Sebastian! Roz, I think there's something wrong with him. He won't talk to me, and he spends all his time in his room. He doesn't tell us what to do any more.”

Roz shrugged. “So what else is new? He's been like that for ages, ever since he started going out with Jennifer.”

“But now we don't even have Round Table meetings!”

“Sebastian will be okay. He'll get over it. And I'm glad he's finally stopped that game. It wasn't good for him—it wasn't good for any of us.
I'm
in love now, Corrie, with Ronnie! Do you want me to tell you how it started?”

“No!” Corrie strode out of the kitchen. Roz was hopeless. And Corrie had a dreadful feeling that Sebastian wouldn't “get over it.” Instead he seemed to be sinking into a place where no one could reach him.

T
HEN SEBASTIAN STOPPED
coming home after school. They had all become so used to him hiding in his room that at first no one noticed he wasn't even in the house. Sometimes Harry or Juliet or Orly would ask where he was. Roz didn't seem to care, and she was often out herself, anyway. Sebastian would turn up for dinner, eat silently, then retreat to his room. It was just like when he was in love, but now he was silent and miserable instead of in a happy daze.

The twins got wilder and wilder. Orly broke a window at school and Juliet bit a boy in her class. Corrie had no control over them, and they were becoming dirtier and ruder every day. All three of the younger kids ignored Corrie's orders to go to bed. Harry refused to take his turn with the twins after school and spent all his time at Peter's—they were making a rocket, he told Corrie.

Meredith kept asking Corrie to come over, but she started to say no most days, and she discouraged Meredith from coming to her house. She didn't have the heart or strength to do anything but try to hold her disintegrating family together.

She tried to make a schedule for June, but it was so difficult when Sebastian and Roz weren't home to do things. Harry ignored her when she begged him to take out the garbage, and Juliet stuck her tongue out when Corrie asked her to dry the dishes. “You aren't my boss!” she called, scampering up the stairs. Most nights Corrie had to do all the meals and cleaning up herself, with a little help from Orly when she bribed him with bubble gum.

Fa, of course, didn't even notice. He told them his book was almost ready to be sent to the typist. Now that classes were over at the university, he was retreating to his study whenever he could. They had his full attention only on Sundays.

C
ORRIE FELT SO HELPLESS
that she devised a plan. She would spy on Sebastian again and find out what he was doing after school.
A knight is loyal
. She had to try to keep on being Sir Gareth, to be loyal to Sir Lancelot and not give up on him.

The next day she forced Harry to take the twins home by riding away from him on her bike. She pedalled fast to Laburnum school and hid behind the same shrubs she had with Meredith.

The first people she recognized were Jennifer and Terry. Jennifer was laughing that same false laugh she had used with Sebastian. She had cut off her braid and now she wore make-up. Her sweater stretched tightly over her pointy bra—she looked like a teenager in a magazine. Terry couldn't keep his eyes off her. His friends looked at her just as avidly.

The two of them were so disgusting they deserved each other, Corrie decided. No matter how unhappy Sebastian was, at least Jennifer was out of his life.

Roz appeared with Joyce and they quickly walked away, deep in conversation. At least Roz wasn't with Ronnie.

Finally Sebastian emerged. He pushed through the crowd and everyone parted, as if he were a plague. Even Terry and his gang ignored him—they were too enthralled by Jennifer.

Sebastian mounted his bike and Corrie followed. He rode towards Kerrisdale. Corrie swerved in and out of cars, panting with concentration. It was so difficult to stay close to the side of the street.

Finally Sebastian drew up in front of the Kerrisdale library. Corrie locked up her bike and followed him in.

Hiding behind a stack of books, she got back her breath. She found her brother sitting at a table in the adult non-fiction section. He was surrounded by stacks of books, his hand on his forehead while he leaned over one.

Corrie watched him for a long time. Sebastian looked exhausted. There were deep circles under his eyes. His hair was unwashed and hung greasily behind his ears. His fingernails were lined with dirt. He turned a page and sighed, then looked up. Corrie drew back quickly. She could still see his face. It was so full of pain that she felt as if she'd been stabbed.

Sebastian got up and she saw him go into the men's washroom. Darting over to the table, she glanced at the books and then flew back to her hiding place.

Knights and King Arthur … Books by Malory and Tennyson and Pyle. The book he was reading was open to a page depicting a drawing by Howard Pyle labelled “The Lady Guinevere.” Corrie had only a few seconds to notice how much her snooty expression resembled Jennifer's.

Corrie slipped out of the library, got on her bike, and rode slowly home. Sebastian seemed to be just as obsessed with Guinevere as he had been before, even though Jennifer was now out of his life. Did he still think he was the reincarnation of Sir Lancelot?

That night Corrie re-read the story of how, when Guinevere was angry at Lancelot, he became “out of his wit,” existing for two years on fruit and water and running around half-naked. Was Sebastian going as mad as Lancelot?

Sebastian continued to stay away until dinnertime, but at least Corrie now knew where he was.

“Seb, how long has it been since you've washed?” Roz asked one weekend. “Your hair and clothes are disgusting, and you stink!”

“Mind your own business,” he muttered, and went upstairs.

“He's as bad as Orly!” Roz complained to Corrie. “What's wrong with him?”

“Something
is
wrong with him!” said Corrie. “I think we should tell Fa.”

“Don't bother him—you know how hard he's working these days.” Roz looked exasperated. “I guess Sebastian is still upset over Jennifer, but he's acting like a child. I'll talk to him.”

“He won't listen to you,” warned Corrie. She watched Roz go up the stairs. A door slammed and Roz came down almost immediately.

“He's impossible! He won't even let me in his room!”

“I told you,” said Corrie sadly. “It's as if he isn't here.”

“Well, I'm fed up with him. He doesn't do anything to help any more.”

“Roz, neither do you!” cried Corrie. “I've been doing
everything
!”

Roz flushed. “I'm sorry, Corrie. You're absolutely right. I tell you what, once the play is over next week, I'll come straight home from school every day until Sebastian's better.”

“Thanks. But, Roz—do we just wait? Do you think Sebastian
will
get better? I still think we should tell Fa.”

“No! We'll just wait. If Seb's going to be so stubborn, we'll ignore him. After a while he'll be ashamed of how he's acting.”

“I don't think he's acting this way on purpose,” Corrie said. “It's as if he can't help it.”

“Of course he can help it! He's just feeling sorry for himself.”

Corrie shook her head. “He's not. It's as if he's under some sort of spell. He's still Sir Lancelot, you know. Except he's not pretending any more—it's as if he really
is
Sir Lancelot.”

Roz stood up angrily. “Of course he's not! I'm so tired of hearing about that stupid game! It's about time you all gave it up, especially Sebastian!”

Corrie's voice broke. “We
have
given it up—
except
for Sebastian!”

“Well, he just has to grow up. Until he does, we'll have to cope without bothering Fa. Don't you dare tell him, promise?”

Corrie nodded, tears blurring her vision. She blinked them away and went upstairs to start another comforting diorama.

R
OZ AND CORRIE
got the household onto a fragile schedule again. The twins didn't listen to them as they did to Sebastian, but they were slightly more obedient. The dishes got done and bedtimes were reestablished.

But Sebastian became worse. He hardly ate at meals but nibbled on peanut butter and crackers in between. His skin broke out into ugly inflamed pimples. His teeth were furry—Corrie was sure he never brushed them. He was losing so much weight that his clothes hung loosely and his cheeks became hollow. Every time Roz nagged at him he snarled at her so violently that she finally gave up. “Okay, be filthy—see if I care!”

Corrie tried to talk to him too, but he was gently dismissive. “I'm okay,” he said. “I just want to be left alone, all right?”

“Don't they notice at school how dirty he is?” Corrie asked Roz.

“I don't know. Maybe not—all the boys have greasy hair. They put stuff in it to make it even greasier. And teachers never really notice you.”

Roz was right. Mr. Zelmach, nice as he was, didn't see how unhappy Corrie was.

Lately she had hardly even spoken to or played with Meredith. When Meredith tried to ask her why, Corrie dismissed her friend the same way Sebastian had dismissed her. It was as if whatever was ailing Sebastian was catching.

Corrie read the story of Sir Lancelot being “out of his wit” over and over. All that saved him was lying next to the Holy Grail. Corrie felt out of her own wit. She had no Holy Grail to heal her brother, and anyway, that was just a story. This was real, but as Fa had said, it was too much reality to bear.

16

A Knight Is Brave

“
B
ut why can't I come to
your
house?” asked Meredith. For the umpteenth time Corrie had just explained that she couldn't go to Meredith's because she had to be at home. Whenever she saw Meredith these days she felt split in two. Part of her wished Meredith would leave her alone, but part of her was glad that her friend was staying loyal.

“It's too complicated,” Corrie sighed. “You just can't come, that's all.”

They were at the bike stand. Meredith lowered her head and kicked at the ground. “I don't
understand
you any more, Corrie,” she said, raising her face. It was deeply flushed. “I thought we were
best friends
.”

“We are!” said Corrie helplessly. “

Then why won't you
talk
to me? Why won't you tell me what's
wrong
? Is it something to do with your family? Could my
mum
help?”

Corrie considered this. Could she? She imagined pouring out her concerns about Sebastian to kind Mrs. Cooper. She might hug Corrie; that would be nice. But then she would tell Fa.

Corrie's chest ached. It would be such a relief to confide in Meredith. But she couldn't be sure she wouldn't tell her mother.

“There's nothing you can do,” she muttered. “I just want to be left alone, all right?” Then she winced at how much she sounded like Sebastian.

“
Fine
!” Meredith said crossly. There were tears in her eyes. “I've tried and
tried
to help you, Corrie. I thought we were friends, but obviously we're
not
!”

She got on her bike and sped away. Corrie watched her, then picked up her own bike. She was so worn out she could hardly ride it home.