I don’t really know what the point is any more, but I have to make a decision now because otherwise nothing will happen. In the middle of all this talking and spitting I’ve discovered something. Do you know what it is? I’m not sure that I can explain it and even if I could I’m not sure that you would understand it, or would want to understand it since you always insist you know best. But you don’t know what’s best any more. I don’t either but at least I’m trying. It’s as if for the first time I feel something that seems like it has to do with freedom — can you understand that? A strange feeling of not being locked up any more and what I have the most trouble understanding is how one can feel the least bit free sitting in a cave and not even existing.
I’m not a child any more. I’m not an adult either, but I understand something now that I didn’t before, when I was careful never to offend you, when my whole life centred on this. That was thanks to the tradition you were always talking about, the respect that is really just another word for the noose around my neck since I was born a woman and not a man. I look at the others my age, the girls, I mean, the ones who live in this country, not the boys, don’t worry I only look at them in secret since I’m actually quite shy. I’m not going to change that about myself even with a new name. It would make you crazy to see them — the girls, I mean — they don’t go hiding behind shawls and respect and traditions and they aren’t afraid of fathers who think they can do whatever they like. I see something I haven’t seen before and maybe it’s not a good thing but I want to find that out for myself. I’m not going to let you answer for me. I’m going to judge for myself.
Up until now you were my hero, Mum. Until now. But not any more. Of course I love you, I do, don’t think any different. I’m going to love you as long as I live, I would probably give my life for you if it came to that and I know you would do the same for me but this can’t go on any longer. If we’re going to make it out of this cave we’re going to have to do what I say from now on.
That’s how she used to talk to the old Laurinda. It was the volcano that spewed out the glowing remains of feelings and thoughts she could no longer control. And the old Laurinda listened, she turned her face away but she never said anything.
