UNE CHRONIQUE ENNUYEUSES
Jan Galligan
Paris, 1995
Ya-t-il quelqu' un qui parle anglais?
Gar de Montparnasse Nov 5, 19:30
We have arrived at the station in Paris and are about to look for the Metro
in order to quickly get from the train station to the Place where we
remember seeing a very large movie palace. At the moment, we can't remember
which Place it is, but we know it was in the vicinity of Place d' Italaie,
since that is where we met Clare for dinner, and we walked right past it on
the way to, and from, dinner. We plan to see Kevin Costner's film,
WaterWorld. The film is V.O., version originale, which means it's not
dubbed into French, and we can ignore the subtitles. We get off the TGV and
walk into the station which is jammed with people returning to Paris or
leaving Paris, for the weekend. It has the same crowded feeling as Grand
Central Station on Thanksgiving. The crowd is dense and milling about. It's
difficult to push our way through to find directions to the Metro, or just
figure out where we are. Suddenly the crowd is pushing us backwards. In
front of us, the police have stretched a length of crime-scene tape and are
beginning to cordon off the central section of the train platform. Hundreds
of us are jammed behind the lines, trying to determine what is going on.
Across the station the police have pushed the crowd away from the central
area as well. Lillian and I shove our way to the front of the crowd. At the
far end of the station, behind the opposite crowd is our entrance for the
Metro. The police seem fairly casual. The crowd seems intent, but confused.
We cannot pick up on what is happening, but we notice the electronic
billboard overhead is saying things about baggage, interdict, and something
to the effect that everyone is subject to a search of their bags.
Occasionally, someone from the crowd tries to break into the clearing, but
the police rush over and push them back. It's exciting and tense. We're
torn between staying to watch what happens, risking having our bags
searched, not having our passports with us, and trying to make our way to
the movies. I notice one man on his knees near a kiosk at the center of the
cleared area. He gets up and moves rapidly away. The crowd tenses.
KABOOM!!! An explosion reverberates through the station. My heart stops.
Lillian's face is ash. People scream and cower away from the police line.
'Let's get the hell out of here', I say. I grab Lillian's arm and we push
our way to the back of the crowd and hurry towards the closest exit. On the
street, we try to make sense of what has happened.
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