...of others

‘I DON’T UNDERSTAND!’
The girl yelled:
‘WHAT?’
He took another breath and yelled:
‘THAT! I DON’T UNDERSTAND! WHY! EVERYTHING IS SO! SILENT!’
The girl yelled:
’SO WHAT?’
’SO SILENT!’
The girl thought he was joking, and began to laugh.
‘NO!’ yelled Young M. Hogan. And after a pause:
‘ITS TRUE! THERE’S LOTS OF NOISE! BUT NO ONE! EVER SAYS ANYTHING.’
He took a sip of beer to clear his throat.
‘WHY IS EVERYONE! SILENT! INSIDE! I DON’T UNDERSTAND!’
The girl laughed, flashing her gold teeth, and yelled:
‘THAT! DOESN’T MEAN ANYTHING!’
Young M. Hogan yelled into her ear:
‘AND THE TOWN! I DON’T UNDERSTAND! WHY ALL THESE PEOPLE! ARE TOGETHER! THE OTHER DAY! I CLIMBED! TO THE TOP OF A BUILDING! TO SEE! AND I DON’T UNDERSTAND! WHY! ALL THESE PEOPLE ARE HERE! I MEAN! WHAT KEEPS THEM HERE! WHAT DO THEY DO! WHY ARE THERE! ALL THESE BLOCKHOUSES! AND THESE CARS! AND THESE BARS! HERE RATHER THAN SOMEWHERE ELSE! HERE! AND NO ONE! WANTS TO TELL ME! THE PEOPLE SAY NOTHING! NOTHING SAYS NOTHING! THE STREETS SAY NOTHING! EVERYTHING IS CLOSED! THERE IS NO EXPLA! NO EXPLANATION! ONE NEVER MANAGES! TO FIND OUT!’
The girl made a loud-hailer of her hands:
‘WHY DO YOU WANT!  TO KNOW?’
‘BECAUSE! IT INTERESTS ME!’
Young M. Hogan gulped some beer straight from the bottle.
‘I’D LIKE TO KNOW! WHY THE PEOPLE! ARE HERE! I DON’T UNDERSTAND! HOW THEY MANAGE! NEVER TO SAY ANYTHING! IT’S AS THOUGH! THEY WERE MADE OF WOOD! THEY ARE ALL! THEY ARE ALL EXTERIOR! NO WAY! OF KNOWING WHAT GOES ON! INSIDE THEM!’
The girl brought her lips forward. Her eyes were two lumps of coal.
‘NOTHING!’
‘NOT TRUE! OTHERWISE! THEY WOULDN’T STAY! TOGETHER!’
Then:
‘WHAT KEEPS THEM! TOGETHER?’
It was good to yell like that, across the uproar of the music. It was like standing on top of a mountain, and calling out to a woman standing on top of the mountain opposite.
‘I DON’T UNDERSTAND! WHAT’S MEANT BY THE WORD COUNTRY!’
‘I DON’T KNOW!’
‘WHY! DON’T THE PEOPLE EVER SPEAK?’
‘NOTHING TO SAY!’
‘THEY ARE HIDING!’
‘THEY ARE SCARED!’
’SCARED OF WHAT?’
‘I DON’T KNOW!’
‘DON’T YOU CARE?’
‘NO! ALL THIS YELLING! IS MAKING ME TIRED!’
‘DO YOU WANT! SOME BEER?’
‘YES!’
‘TELL ME! WHY THE PEOPLE! NEVER SPEAK!’
Young M. Hogan yelled one last time:
‘I DON’T UNDERSTAND! WHY! WHEN ALL THE NOISES! HAVE BEEN TAKEN AWAY! EVERYTHING BECOMES! SO SILENT! THERE IS NOTHING! UNDERNEATH! PEOPLE LIVE LIKE THAT! TOGETHER! THEY DON’T KNOW WHY! THEY DON’T WANT! TO KNOW! WHY! THEY SAY NOTHING! THEY ARE! RIGID! THEY ARE TONGUE-TIED! THE CARS! SAY NOTHING! EITHER! THIS SILENCE! HURTS ME! IMPOSSIBLE! TO HEAR A WORD! THERE IS! NO ONE! NEVER ANYONE! I DON’T UNDERSTAND!’

[The Book of Flights, Le Clézio, J. M. G.]