Don’t Jump

“A door closes. A voice goes out. It’s all over. The End.” (p.300)

In this section of the book, Squarzoni decides to tackle this strange and foreign idea of an ending. But what are endings? Does the story end when we turn the last page of a book? Does a movie end when the tape on a film runs out? Does life end when we kiss our last breaths goodbye?

Page 298 really stood out to me while reading this section of the book. It begins in all darkness, and then moves on to a simple, yet unnerving image of birds taking off from a few branches. It then continues to show an image of a man who seems to be jumping off of a roof. This was very disturbing to read, because as a person who’s never seen this movie, I assumed that he died. And it was as Squarzoni said, “Abrupt. Stops you dead. Right in your tracks.”

However, it did remind me of how Squarzoni began the novel, with a picture of a little boy on a roof. That’s right, I’m talking about Peter Pan, the mysterious shadow who took the body of a child, as its vessel for adventure. And it made me think, why did I look at that image of Peter Pan and smile, when upon reading page 298, I was struck with horror? What is the difference between seeing a grown man taking off for the stars and stretching out his arms, as though he fervently believed he could fly, and a little boy doing the exact same thing? And it struck me. Peter Pan had magic. And I believed in him. And all this poor man jumping off this indifferent ledge had, was reality.

Considering this, I came to the conclusion that Squarzoni could end this novel one of two ways. He could present us with nothing but the repetitive, painful facts of reality, making us want to avert our eyes and forget. Or, he could do something a little rare. He could give us a little magic. And some may argue that magic doesn’t exist in the real world, but it does. We just know it by a different name –hope. Because hope can do amazing things. It can push us far beyond the insurmountable mountains of doubt and fear. It can eradicate the idea of impossible. It can transform us.

And as for endings, a certain notion has crossed my mind. Maybe life goes on in spite of death. Maybe the movie keeps on playing, long after the credits have rolled. And maybe, just maybe, the story never ends. But rather, it keeps building on, as we taste it, as we let it melt in our mouths a little; as we experience new things, and carry these stories with us, in the secret chambers of our hearts. Maybe, in that sense, they will never die, and “endings” just don’t exist. And if we can find even one soul to carry the memory of our life with them, then we too, can reach for the beginning of immortality.