The necessary separation
And one fine morning, I was gone… —
Sentinel, Anne McGill, 2020
‘How can we free ourselves from the yoke of perversion?
1) THE NECESSARY SEPARATION:
The desire to disappear or to see the other disappear is the ultimate signal of a cry for help that is vital to hear. Behind this desire (for ‘it to stop’) is the call of life.’ ¹
The call of life. — Genesis 19:17
I thought I saw a flash of lightning. It was 6:18 am, or something like that. It was 6:14, actually, the last time I looked at the clock, but I guess it takes a good four minutes to put on your shoes, unlock the door and get the hell out.
The horror of it all was that I had prepared everything in advance. Backpack, essentials, passport. A few days later, they’d be waiting for me at the airport. At that moment, I’d imagined only two possible endings to that story: escape, or death and I had chosen both. I was gone killing her, the Eva everybody remembered. And I was born, me, nameless still, with nowhere to go. Same little ghost who was trying to convince the public that yes, it ‘was there’.
In the street, everything was dark still. I was thinking about Lot. I got startled by noises, but then I noticed it was just the baker getting ready to open. I went on a bit faster. They’re still sleeping, you think? But who are you talking to? I thought. Just for a moment, the sky intensified — an ultramarine blue. So I knew it wouldn't be long before dawn.
I chose a bench in the middle of the esplanade, facing the mountains, to look at the sky. There were still a few stars. It seemed like an interesting place to start living. A homeless man — I saw him coming from a distance — was approaching, staggering, and I was afraid he would come and talk to me. He came closer, and closer, spoke, but to himself, and continued on his way. I let out a breath. So I came back to my dawn and to this other sentence from Genesis:
‘The sun had risen upon the earth when Lot entered Zoar.’ ²
I could have NOT disappointed them. True. Not broken their hearts, leaving home like that. But I could have breathed my last too, and about that, they'll never know. For them, I'll just be the missing child from now on. If I had chosen death, they would have mourned me. But as I chose life, they'll have plenty of time to hate me. It’s okay. You have to take the time to do these things. It's important.
But then you’ll have to rebuild yourselves… Personally, I’d planned to watch the sun rise. That was one reason to live. Until I asked myself the question again. The blue was changing for a beautiful cerulean, now turning gold. I was waiting my turn.
In the distance, a woman was walking quickly. I could see her silhouette pacing up and down the avenue. She disappeared from my field of vision and reappeared a moment later, right in front of me, agitated. She started talking and talking ; I stared at her, dazed, as if she were speaking a foreign language. She explained that she was looking for her son. That she had woken up around 5am that morning and he was not in his bed. ‘15 years old. Brown hair, white T-shirt, about this size... I won’t punish him, you know. I just want to find him.’ She looked pitiful, I wanted to help her.
The problem with this woman — and she had no idea, of course — was that she was showing me how mothers feel when they can't find their offspring in bed, where they belong. And this was really not the right time. I nodded and muttered ‘Sorry’.
It was a strange scene, because there wasn’t this atmosphere of absolute solitude that usually goes with all the great moments of a character facing his destiny. I had taken the leap. Left everything behind. Family, work, comfort, home… I had nowhere to go, and I was going there with a pair of old jeans and a soon-expired passport. For me, it was the adventure of a lifetime. For the baker, the mother, the homeless man, it was a morning like any other. There was only one person in the world who could understand the exceptional nature of this day. And the last thing I'd done with her was pick up broken glass. This idea has obsessed me since. —
¹ : C. Eliacheff, N. Heinich, Mère-fille: une relation à trois, (2010), Ed. Albin Michel.
² : Genesis, 19:23
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