Writer and committed citizen, the author is president of the governing board of an elementary school. She taught literature at college, is a member of the editorial board of Quebec letters and co-wrote and co-edited the collective essay Shock treatments and tarts. Critical assessment of the management of COVID-19 in Quebec (All in all).
The flashing lights of the ambulance reverberate in my kitchen as I prepare supper. On the sidewalk, a “paramedic” speaks to a man, sheltered in the chemical toilet which is used by the workers during our facade work. He’s been there since the night before.
I open the window and listen, while two policemen join the scene. You can never be too careful. One of them strikes up a conversation.
” What’s your name ?
— Rejean*.
— Thank you, Rejean. Your name from
family ?
— Adam*.
— Have you been here since last night, Rejean?
– Yes.
– I’m going to remove the trash bag in the window Rejean, is it good for you?
– Yes.
– OK, Rejean, look me in the eye. I just want to make sure you’re safe. Did you consume?
– Nope.
– You do not want to go to a shelter, you prefer to stay here, right?
“No, no shelter.
‘Don’t you have anything you could set on fire with either, Rejean?’
– Nope. »
I miss the end of the conversation and go out to talk to the police, who summarize the situation for me. “He didn’t bother anyone, we told him it wasn’t the owner of the site who had called us, but that it was Sunday. That work would probably resume tomorrow and he would have to leave. There he is going to eat, then come back for the night and he knows he has to leave tomorrow morning. »
I tell them that’s perfect and thank them for their human intervention (which corresponds perfectly to what is expected of a so-called “community” police force, isn’t it?). I am thinking of Raphaël André and all those people who struggle, for whom a royal blue chemical toilet represents a space of safety, embodies the difference between spending the night outside or having a roof over your head…
My neighbor arrives just as I was going to return to mine.
“I called 911. From my balcony, I saw the red door indicator: I knew there was someone inside. This morning, I went to speak to him and he answered me. I returned earlier and no response. I wanted to make sure he was safe, so I called.
– You did well, thank you. We realized that he had settled down last night, but, indeed, it is not a problem at the moment…
“I think it’s important to act, in cases like this. Twenty years ago, I was in a bar. At two o’clock in the morning, a four-year-old girl rang. Nobody paid attention, a little more and the bartender offered him a drink. I knew his mother was dancing, not too far away. I took her home, close by. We patiently waited for her mother to come back…
– Thank you for her.
“But I wanted to ask you: several years ago, one night, a child was crying and screaming very loudly. I think it was yours.
“Yeah, she was having terrible night terrors back then. I was pregnant with his little brother. One summer evening, the police arrived.
– That’s what I wanted to tell you, I wondered so much if I should call them … I regretted, wondering if it had had any adverse consequences on you.
– You did well. I always knew it was you: you never sleep! I see you watching hockey in the middle of the night…
— With stories like Granby’s, I would really blame myself for not having acted if it was serious…
– Really, you did the right thing! It was impressive, these episodes: we didn’t touch her, we were just careful not to hurt her, but she was shouting things like “I’m hot, stop, you’re choking me! “. We don’t know what parallel reality she imagined herself in since she was sleeping, but I too would have called 911 if I had heard words like those.
— I had two sets of twins, I saw it snowing. They’ve grown up now… I mentioned to the police that it could be a night terror.
— I opened the door to the police, I explained to them what was happening, they left and there was no follow-up. But it’s crazy all the same, night terrors. Besides, there was no universal recipe for my daughter to come to her senses or go back to sleep. We proceeded by trial and error. Thank you anyway. What is your name ?
— Dennis. You ?
— Josiana. Nice to meet you.
– Nice to meet you ! I notice things about it at night. Once I called 911 because someone was trying to break into the local convenience store. They arrested the guy.
“Well, keep watching. We’re lucky to have you in the neighborhood, Denis.
– You’re welcome. I think it’s important that we take care of each other. »
Thank you, Denis, for embodying so well the fact that living together is not just between people who are all alike — and that empathy is the mortar of social diversity.
So I returned, carried by the humanity of my neighbor to the tunes of Bernie Sanders, whom I see smoking day and night on his balcony, but to whom I had never spoken until now. I finished preparing supper with wet eyes, nourished and soothed by this quiet benevolence and this successful intervention that never make the headlines.
*Name has been changed to preserve the person’s anonymity.