Pictou felt a gentle shaking sensation on his sleeping self. “A friend of ours is coming to stay today,” Port Hawkesbury told him. Pictou woke up, and he caught sight of Port Hawkesbury. He laughed joyfully, and she smiled blissfully.
Port Hawkesbury returned to her room. Pictou sat up in his bed and dashed off to his parents’ room, laughing blissfully as he shot through the doorway. Tossing himself onto their bed, he giggled and squealed delightfully. Port Hawkesbury woke up and caught sight of Pictou, making sweet sounds to her two-year-old son. “Good morning, my dearly-loved Pictou.” She stroked him tenderly. Pictou squealed blissfully, and he sniffed the still-sleeping Stellarton. He stirred around, sighing, his eyes fluttering.
Suddenly, Stellarton awoke, gasping and catching sight of Pictou. “Picky-tou!” he exclaimed, seeing his little one. He smiled, and made caring sounds to Pictou. “Beauty,” he called him affectionately, touching and fondling him. Pictou giggled joyfully.
Port Hawkesbury and Stellarton both arose from their bed, and Port Hawkesbury carried Pictou in her arms down to the kitchen, where she slid him into his highchair. Pictou lightly tapped on his tray. “I’d like some apple slices, please,” he asked politely in French. “Alright, then,” Port Hawkesbury accepted in French. “Merci.” Stellarton went over to the stove and ignited a hob.
Pictou watched his parents prepare breakfast. Port Hawkesbury chopped up an apple for Pictou and grilled some toast for herself, while Stellarton fried some smoky bacon and eggs for himself. They also brewed two cups of tea for themselves and poured a glass of fresh milk for Pictou.
A few minutes later, breakfast was served for the Denoons. Port Hawkesbury and Stellarton both sat down at the table, and Port Hawkesbury handed Pictou his apple slices and milk. “Merci,” Pictou thanked her in French again, and the Denoons tucked in to their breakfasts, chatting about daily happenings in town. Pictou chewed on his apple slices and sipped his milk, sniffing the delicious scents of bacon, eggs, toast and tea in the air.
When they’d finished their breakfasts, the Denoons suddenly heard the doorbell ring. “Oh. That must be our friend,” Port Hawkesbury reasoned. She and Stellarton arose from their seats, picking Pictou up. The Denoons approached the front door, and Port Hawkesbury opened it.
A young, brunet, stubbly Irish-Canadian man stood in the doorway. His name was Harrigan Cove. He wore a ruby-red shirt, bright turquoise trousers fastened with a belt, and two-toned shoes in black and grey. His eyes were drooping, making him look tired.
Port Hawkesbury smiled. “Come inside,” she told him, and she closed and locked the front door. “Hello. I’m Port Hawkesbury,” she introduced herself. “And I’m Stellarton,” Stellarton added. “I’m Harrigan Cove,” Harrigan Cove chimed in.
Pictou stretched his hand out to Harrigan Cove. “I’m Pictou,” he introduced himself. Harrigan Cove nodded. “Youse a bonny little lad.” “Aw,” cooed both Port Hawkesbury and Stellarton. Pictou smiled blissfully, and Harrigan Cove stroked him tenderly. “Come up to Pictou’s room and have a little chat with him,” Port Hawkesbury suggested. “Alright,” Harrigan Cove accepted, and Port Hawkesbury carried Pictou up to his room, with Harrigan Cove tailing them.
Entering Pictou’s room, Harrigan Cove lay down on Pictou’s bed, his hands behind his head, and his legs huddled up. Port Hawkesbury lay Pictou down beside Harrigan Cove. She made caring sounds to him, touching and stroking him tenderly. Harrigan Cove turned to Pictou, and Port Hawkesbury left Pictou’s room, closing the door behind herself.
“So, how youse feeling this morning?” Harrigan Cove asked Pictou. “I’m feeling alright,” Pictou replied, wiggling, jiggling and stretching out to Harrigan Cove. “I’m feeling alright, too,” said Harrigan Cove. Pictou touched his duvet. Harrigan Cove watched, feeling affection for him.
“How old youse are?” asked Harrigan Cove. “I’m two,” Pictou replied. “Ah,” said Harrigan Cove. “Youse a little boy.” “Yes,” Pictou agreed. “I’m 22,” Harrigan Cove chimed in. “You’re a man!” Pictou remarked. Harrigan Cove nodded. “Yep. A young man,” he replied, nodding again as he began. Harrigan Cove then noticed that Pictou was twenty years younger than him. Pictou laughed and stretched out to him, and he smiled.
Suddenly, Pictou relieved himself, and Harrigan Cove smelled ammonia in the air. Pictou’s door opened, and Port Hawkesbury came inside, picking Pictou up and carrying him over to the bathroom. Harrigan Cove followed them again. Port Hawkesbury and Harrigan Cove both entered the bathroom, where Stellarton was standing beside Pictou’s changing table. Port Hawkesbury shut the door behind herself, and she and Harrigan Cove went up to Stellarton, laying Pictou down on the table.
Port Hawkesbury removed Pictou’s trousers and peeled off his wet diaper, Harrigan Cove and Stellarton watching. Port Hawkesbury cleaned Pictou’s backside with a baby wipe and slipped him into a fresh, dry diaper, replacing his trousers. Stellarton jotted down some notes on today in his notebook. Port Hawkesbury picked Pictou back up, opened the door and left the bathroom, with Harrigan Cove and Stellarton following her.
Back in Pictou’s room, and just like before, Pictou and Harrigan Cove lay down on Pictou’s bed, with Harrigan Cove having his hands behind his head and his legs huddled up again.
“What languages youse speak?” Harrigan Cove asked Pictou. “I speak Canadian French, Acadian French and English,” Pictou replied, wiggling, jiggling and stretching out to Harrigan Cove again. Harrigan Cove realized that Pictou was Acadian Canadian. He smiled. “Je m’appelle Pictou,” Pictou introduced himself in French, giggling. Harrigan Cove laughed, and Pictou smiled blissfully.
“And what’s youse surname?” asked Harrigan Cove. “My surname’s Denoon,” Pictou replied. Harrigan Cove nodded. “Pictou Denoon,” he repeated, smiling again. “How sweet.” “Yeah,” Pictou agreed.
“My surname’s Gallagher,” Harrigan Cove added. Pictou laughed. “Harrigan Cove Gallagher,” he repeated, another smile on his face. “You stay true to your Irish roots.” “Yes,” Harrigan Cove agreed, nodding. Pictou smiled sweetly, and so did Harrigan Cove.
Pictou’s door opened again, and Port Hawkesbury came in, picking Pictou up. Harrigan Cove arose from Pictou’s bed. Port Hawkesbury went downstairs, with Harrigan Cove tailing her.
Port Hawkesbury and Harrigan Cove arrived in the hallway, where Stellarton was again waiting. “Let’s go,” he said, opening the front door, and the Denoons and Harrigan Cove left the house. Stellarton closed and locked the door, and they all set off.
Strolling down Coleraine Street, the Denoons and Harrigan Cove suddenly caught sight of a man dressed as a lobster at arm’s length, dancing around and singing. Pictou smiled. “Let’s go meet him,” he suggested. “Alright,” Port Hawkesbury accepted, and the Denoons and Harrigan Cove approached the Lobsterman.
On seeing the Denoons and Harrigan Cove, the Lobsterman immediately stopped dancing and singing, and turned around. “Well, hello there!” he greeted them. “I’m Pictou,” Pictou introduced himself. “I’m Port Hawkesbury,” Port Hawkesbury added. “I’m Stellarton,” Stellarton introduced himself. “And I’m Harrigan Cove,” Harrigan Cove chimed in.
The Lobsterman began to dance a little routine. “You are some strange lobster!” Pictou exclaimed. The Lobsterman laughed. “Yes, I am, actually.” Pictou laughed with him, and he joined in with the Lobsterman’s dance.
As Pictou and the Lobsterman danced, Port Hawkesbury made sweet sounds to Pictou. Stellarton jotted down some notes in his notebook, and Harrigan Cove nodded.
While they danced, the Lobsterman touched Pictou, feeling a lot of affection for him. “Aw,” Port Hawkesbury cooed, clasping her hands together. Stellarton and Harrigan Cove both nodded.
When they stopped dancing, Pictou and the Lobsterman put their arms out. The Lobsterman took a lock of Pictou’s hair between his pincer and smoothed it down. “My little one,” he called Pictou sweetly. “Aw,” Port Hawkesbury cooed again, and Stellarton and Harrigan Cove both gave another nod. “Pictou’s such a sweetie,” the Lobsterman declared. “Yeah,” Pictou agreed, and so did Port Hawkesbury, Stellarton and Harrigan Cove. The Lobsterman admired Pictou for a few more minutes, using endearing terms, touching and caressing him. The Denoons and Harrigan Cove all watched, feeling a great deal of tenderness for them both.
“Well, thanks for meeting me today,” said the Lobsterman, and the Denoons and Harrigan Cove returned their thanks. “Goodbye!” The Denoons and Harrigan Cove bid farewell back. The Lobsterman resumed his singing and dancing, and the Denoons and Harrigan Cove strolled on.
Sunset arrived. The Denoons and Harrigan Cove arrived at the Settlers’ Saltwater Café, and Port Hawkesbury reserved a table for four at the entrance. “Thanks,” she said to the receptionist. The Denoons and Harrigan Cove strolled over to a free table, and Port Hawkesbury picked up a highchair from a corner, placing it at the table and carefully sliding Pictou into it. He giggled cheerfully, and she touched and stroked him tenderly. She sat down, picked up a menu off the table and began to read.
The waiter came over. “What would you like?” he asked. “Tomato soup,” said Port Hawkesbury. “A bacon sandwich,” said Stellarton. “Some baked beans on toast,” Harrigan Cove asked. “And some plain potato chips for Pictou,” Port Hawkesbury added. “Thank you,” said the waiter, and he promptly left.
All of a sudden, Pictou relieved himself. Port Hawkesbury caught a whiff of ammonia in the air, and she arose from her seat, picking Pictou up and taking him off to change his diaper.
The waiter returned with the food. “Thanks,” said Harrigan Cove and Stellarton, and the waiter left again. Stellarton jotted down what he’d encountered so far today in his notebook.
Port Hawkesbury returned from changing Pictou, carefully sliding Pictou back into his highchair and sitting back down. She ground some pepper over Pictou’s potato chips to add some flavour. He laughed joyfully, and she touched and stroked him again. The Denoons and Harrigan Cove all began to dine, with Pictou crunching on his peppered potato chips.
Back in Pictou’s bedroom again, and Pictou and Harrigan Cove were both preparing themselves to go to sleep. The room was steeped in complete darkness. Pictou lay on his bed, wearing dark mint-green pyjamas. Harrigan Cove stood up on the floor, wearing two-toned panties in grey and bright turquoise. Harrigan Cove rolled his sleeping bag out onto the floor, Pictou watching him. Harrigan Cove bent down to unzip his sleeping bag, showing Pictou his backside. Pictou smiled rather cheekily, and Harrigan Cove turned to him, smiling too.
Harrigan Cove stood back up and pulled Pictou’s duvet over him. “Thought I might do that for youse,” he said. “Merci,” Pictou gave his thanks in French, and Harrigan Cove nodded in approval.
Harrigan Cove clambered into his sleeping bag and zipped it back up. “Goodnight,” he said to Pictou. “Goodnight,” Pictou bid him back, and they both fell asleep instantly.