The Prince of Two Tribes by Sean Cullen

with his dad.
    Finally, the show ended and his dad turned off the TV. “What a miserable shootout. Our goalie couldn’t stop a beach ball with a piano tied to it,” he said glumly.
    Brendan had a sudden thought. “Dad, can I ask you something?”
    “No,” his dad answered flatly. Brendan looked at him in confusion until his father laughed. “I’m kidding. What do you want to know?”
    “Just some advice, kinda,” Brendan said.
    “I’ll kinda try and help if I kinda can.”
    “Right.” Brendan thought for a moment then struggled to form his question. “When you’re doing something difficult like, say, trying to learn a new song … ”
    “Yeah?”
    “Have you ever just not been able to do it, no matter how hard you tried? I mean, for some reason, no matter what you do, you can’t play the song or whatever?”
    “You mean, like having a mental block?”
    “Something like that.” Brendan nodded. “In fact, exactly like that.”
    His father frowned. “That’s happened before, sure. Sometimes, for whatever reason, your mind just can’t absorb something. I remember trying to learn ‘American Pie.’ Long song. Lotta words. Kind of annoying. I had to perform it at somebody’s wedding and I didn’t have it down the night before.”
    “What did you do?”
    “Well, I’d been killing myself trying to get it perfect and I’d spent hours and hours poring over the words, but I just couldn’t play it through perfectly. So … I convinced them to let me play another song.”
    Brendan had been anticipating some words of wisdom. His face fell.
    “Again, I’m kidding,” he laughed. “Although I think ‘American Pie’ is a pretty lame song for a wedding. I mean, you want to immortalize your union by singing a song about a guitar player who died in a plane crash? Buddy Holly’s great and everything, but come on. Turns out they’d met to that song and so … ”
    “Dad!”
    “Sorry. Yeah, okay.” His dad smiled. “You know what I did? I did nothing. I stopped practising. Obviously, it was all there in my head and I was so worried I was going to fail that I was making myself fail. I put down the guitar and didn’t touch it until right before the ceremony.”
    “Did it work?” Brendan asked. “Did you get it right?”
    “Turns out I forgot a verse but they didn’t notice. Love tends to preoccupy people when they’re getting married. And the fact that they’re trying not to wet themselves with terror. My point is, you have to trust that you’ve done the work and let it go. Does that make sense?”
    “Sure.” Brendan nodded, but inside he was disappointed. His father had no idea what the stakes were. Brendan couldn’t make any mistakes or they might be his last. There was no room for error. He didn’t want to worry his dad, though. “Thanks, Dad. I’m gonna get dressed and go out. See ya later.”
    “Okay,” his dad answered, reaching for the paper. “What are you so worried about? What do you need to learn? Can I help?”
    “Nothing,” Brendan replied, heading for the stairs. “Just something for school. Later, Dad.”
    Brendan showered and dressed quickly, but by the time he came downstairs, the house was empty. His parents were gone. He’d called Harold and Dmitri but got their voicemail. He’d left apologetic messages for both and begged them to call him back. Pulling on his parka, he headed out the door.
    He walked down the street to wait for the streetcar. BLT was content to nestle in his inner pocket out of the cold. Brendan felt his spirits rise a little bit. His breath gusted out in a white cloud. He liked the cold, and he especially liked the first big snowfall. He loved the way the entire city looked clean and fresh. He loved how all sound seemed muffled by the layer of white. He contentedly scuffed at the fluffy snow, sending puffs of flakes in front of him, savouring the squeak of the compressed snow beneath his boots. Snowflakes drifted in front of his face, and with his