They stared at me with eyes like great big marbles. They just didn’t get it: I could see they thought I was mad. I felt even more respect for my dear Egyptian, who’d understood exactly what I meant. Then they explained that anyway they couldn’t care less about school because they’d found their vocation. A poultry farmer they knew had told them that no one had ever been able to invent a machine for cutting chicken breasts off the carcass. So chicken breast cutters were in demand. But because time is money, the factories sent the chickens down a sort of conveyor belt and right-handers cut out the chicken breasts on the left-hand side while left-handers cut out the chicken breasts on the right-hand side. The factories were short of left-handers and so paid them a lot more. And Etienne and Marcel were both left-handed. Since they’d discovered this option, they’d stopped studying altogether and their reports for the first term had been even more catastrophic than usual.

“We’re all right, our future career’s sorted out!”

I thought they lacked ambition. Personally, I was trying to get myself back on track. And maybe one day I’d even end up having some ambition myself. Just a little. They went off on their bikes into the night. Dad was putting ticks against advertisements in the Journal for Collectors and the Curious. I sat down on the edge of the sofa and looked at him. For the first time I thought that there was something wistful about his eyes, a sort of sadness in his face. It felt like it was up to me to protect him, but from what exactly I wasn’t sure. It was one of the first times in my life when I felt a little bit of strength and confidence, and when I realized that other people weren’t as strong as I’d thought. It wasn’t as good a feeling as I’d imagined it would be. In the end, being aware of other people’s weakness doesn’t make you feel any stronger.

I turned on the radio to listen to the news, which was about a plane crash in Russia. The pilot and the co-pilot had been arguing about one of the flight attendants, who couldn’t make up her mind between the two of them. As a result the plane went down nose first.

“They’re idiots, the Russians,” said Dad, conclusively, closing his magazine.

I went to have a look at my bird. I weighed him in my hands and he felt as heavy as ever. That didn’t seem a good sign. Still, when I stroked his feathers I could feel him breathing. I scattered a few crumbs of bread by his beak and for a moment I had the feeling he was trying to smile at me.

Dad turned up to check out my animal rescue skills.