April 22, 2006
Dear Savè,
I am afraid to come. Help me. I am rocking back and forth in a corner.
I am sending you my panic journal, in the hope that you will tell me how ridiculous my fears are.
Licia
Licia’s Panic Journal
1) The plane will crash and all my business in Toronto will be in chaos. Incomplete and incorrect projects will be left as evidence of my mediocrity. They will haunt my poor family like a persistent bad odour.
2) In my absence, my house will be broken into, and my secret and embarrassing musings will be strewn about by the thieves, while they look for valuables. They’ll leave the door open and let in the wind. Next thing, my love letters, lame reflections, banal commentaries will be blowing in the city streets.
3) My parents, by destiny or design, will become deathly ill and call for me. I will be a million miles away, unable to answer.
4) Someone I love will die. I’ll torture myself about the subtext of that death: was it personal? Was it a criticism of me? “Je t’accuse!” I’ll hear when I close my eyes.
5) On my way back, they won’t let me into Canada. Not because I am carrying contraband – like a cheese donkey – but because they will uncover my Communist roots, and argue that my citizenship was obtained under false pretenses.
6) The town of Aquilonia will refuse me entry. My long absence will be taken as a sign of disloyalty. I will protest, but it won’t do me any good.
7) When I arrive in Aquilonia, everything will seem out of place. No one will recognize me, and I will have to leave in shame, wondering if I dreamed this other existence.
8) When I arrive in Aquilonia, there will be no trace of me, as if I was obliterated by an errant wind, or the ocean closed over me, as it did over the Andrea Doria.
9) When I arrive in Aquilonia, everything will be as familiar as my mother’s face. I will appreciate what I have lost. I will be heartbroken.
10) When I arrive in Aquilonia, I will learn that I was someone else, and that my life was not at all what I remember it to be.
That’s my list, Savè.
April 28, 2006
Dear Licia,
Your fears are ridiculous. Burn the panic list.
Love,
Savè