I glance at Carl, unsure how to answer Francois. He winks at me.
"Kenny told me in a dream."
Francois gazes at me intently. He doesn't speak at first. Then he glances at Carl.
"Fascinating stuff", Carl says.
"Kenny died from suicide" say I. "Jumped from the Lion's Gate Bridge. He was only thirty-five."
"That is so tragic", says Francois, almost in a whisper.
"He lived with us, with my dad and me, for around five years. He was studying environmental science at UBC." I feel suddenly very protective of my friend's memory. I don't know why, since Francois is someone I instinctively feel I could trust. I almost never feel so strongly positive about someone I have only just met. But first Carl, and now also Francois.
"Was he troubled?"
"Yes", say I. Very troubled.
"He was a drag queen sex worker", blurts Carl, to whom I cast a very poisonous glance. He seems to want to ignore it.
"And an environmental science student", says Francois, but without irony.
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