When I lived on the street, we used to hang around the train yards near Rue Riquet and Rue Ordener. There were a lot of good spots for camping out, little abandoned huts and substations that were warm in the winter. My best friend and I would watch the trains come and go, and he would tell me about all the places we'd visit together on those trains. "You and me, Lulu," he'd say. "One day." One day never came because one day he disappeared and left me on my own to look after our little tribe. Maybe he got on one of those trains without me. Maybe he's far away now, living a better life. Or maybe, he's long dead.
Today, on the way to see someone in the projects in the north of the city, I crossed over those train yards on Rue Riquet. I paused a moment on the overpass and watched the TGV trains easing out of the yard, off to faraway destinations. I thought of him, of those days. As I stood there dreaming, my eyes fell on an old enamel sign screwed to the fencing: DO NOT TOUCH THE ELECTRICAL WIRE. DANGER OF DEATH. A funny expression to be sure. Danger of Death. I looked up at the projects in the distance. Death isn't the problem. It's life that's a danger.
My mind went again to a memory of us boys huddled together in the train yard during one of the worst winters in decades. One of us would die that winter. That's the danger of life on the street. Tant pis. I chose that life and I don't regret it. My best friend chose it, too, eyes wide. He seemed to thrive on the danger of death. He egged it on all the time. That's why I think he's probably dead now. But I'm sure when he saw it coming, he smiled and threw his arms open. He was incredible like that.
It's useless to fear death. It comes and there's nothing you can do about it. Sooner or later, it comes. Me, I made my peace with death long before I left adolescence behind. It's life I still tussle with.
