Jean-Luc Lagarce J'étais dans ma maison et j'attendais que la pluie vienne direction Joël Jouanneau Excerpts The Elder Daughter I was in my house and I was waiting for the rain. I was watching the sky, as I always do, as I've always done, I was watching the sky and I was also looking at the country, gently sloping away from our house, the road disappearing at the bend near the wood, down there. I was watching, it was evening, it's always evening when I watch, always evening when I linger on the doorstep and watch. I was there, standing as I always do, as I've always done, I can picture it all, I was standing there, waiting for the rain, for it to fall on the countryside, on the fields and on the woods and for it to calm us. I was waiting. Haven't I always been waiting? (And in my head, still, that's what I was thinking: haven't I always been waiting? and it made me smile to see myself that way.) I was watching the road and I was thinking too, as I often think in the evening, when I'm on the doorstep waiting for the rain, I still think about all the years we'd lived here, all these years like this, us, you and me, all five of us, as we are now and as we've always been, I was thinking about all that, all these years that we lived and that we wasted, because we have wasted them, all those yeas we spent waiting for him, him over there, the young brother, after he left, ran away, abandoned us, after his father threw him out, today, that very day, I was thinking about all that, that very day, I was thinking about it all, all those years we wasted, immobilised, waiting (and here again perhaps, I began to smile to myself again, to see myself this way, to imagine myself this way, and smiling to myself like this lead me close to tears, and I was afraid I would burst out crying) all those years we spent waiting , that were wasted doing nothing but waiting and not being able to achieve anything, ever, and having no other goal but this one, and I was thinking, yes, that very day, of the time when I could've gone far away, already, of escaping, of the time when I could've changed my life, changed my world, the idea that I had, alone, without you others, you over there, without you others, all of you, all this time when I could've been living differently, simply, not waiting, no longer waiting, getting myself moving. I was waiting for the rain, I was expecting it to rain, I was waiting, as, in a way, I've always waited, I was waiting and this was my life, I was waiting and that's how I saw him, him over there, the young brother, he came around the bend in the track and walked up towards the house, I was waiting not expecting anything in particular and I saw him come back, I was waiting as I've always waited, for so many years, not expecting anything, and it was at this very moment, as evening was falling, it was at this very moment that he appeared, and I saw him. A car drops him off and he walks the last few hundred yards in my direction, his bag tossed over his shoulder. I watch him come towards me, towards me and this house. I'm watching him. I wasn't moving but I was sure it would be him, I was sure that it was him, He was coming home to us after so many years, that's it exactly, We'd always imagined that he'd come back this way without telling us, without any warning and he was doing what I'd always thought, what we'd always imagined. He was looking straight ahead, walking calmly without hurrying, although he seemed not to see me, and he over there, the young brother, for whom I'd always waited for so long that I wasted my life - yes, I wasted it, there's no longer any doubt, and in such a useless way, there, from now on, I know it, I wasted it - him over there, the young brother, returned from his wars, I saw him at last and nothing changed inside me, I was surprised by my own calm, I had thought and you all still think, that I would scream out, that you would scream out, our way of seeing things, No scream of surprise or of joy, nothing, I saw him walking towards me and I was thinking that he was coming back and that nothing would be different, that I'd made a mistake. No solution. © 2001 "Théâtre-contemporain.net". Tous droits réservés.