“It’s just a hill,” he tells her as he climbs the slope.
“He has luggage on the rack of his bike and a Canadian flag flying on a hockey stick with a red light on top,” Lise told me via email. He has a small bag on his back, two shopping bags on the handlebars and he also carries a garbage bag full of reusable cans. Who is this phenomenon?
They talk on the way, Lise brings her limited English skills with her, she gets along. “He seems very nice. I decide to offer him to pitch his tent in my garden. He accepts.” She prepares him a sandwich and offers him a shower. “He thanks me. During the meal he said to me, 'You make me feel normal'.”
Ron, whose real name is Ronald, is used to indifference.
“He tells me a little about himself. He has three daughters. Since he doesn't have a cell phone, I lend him my landline so he can call his family. He almost has tears in his eyes. He is going through a difficult time these days. He left Ontario two weeks earlier and wants to go to New Brunswick to see his brother who has a brain tumor.”
They haven't been seen for so long.
Lise has the idea of putting a mattress in the drum and turning it into a bed for Ron, she hesitates to offer him a room, her husband is touring the Gaspésie on his bike. She locks the door and apologizes politely, she's a little afraid to be home alone. “He told me, 'No problem, it's been my five-star room since I left'.”
In the morning she invites him to lunch, shows him the route to take on Google before leaving, leaves him a piece of paper and a pencil to write down. “After he left, I found a small paper that he left next to the keyboard. It says, “It’s just a hill.” I understand that this applies to the road, but also to this period of his life.
Same thing for everyone. Essentially, life is a series of hills, some steeper than others.
You have to pedal harder.
Lise tells herself that she could have done more. “All year long I hope it goes in the opposite direction. I would again offer him hospitality for an evening, a meal and the opportunity to wash his clothes. But what are the chances?
Almost exactly a year later, Lise is in Saint-Michel-de-Bellechasse with friends. “We’re in the park near the dock. A cyclist passes by in the distance. He's lugging around a cart with a Canadian flag sticking out of the back. I think about him, but we jump to the conclusion very quickly and too easily that he is a bicycle traveler. We often allow ourselves to be persuaded by this snap judgment, especially when we are with several people. We convince ourselves.”
Then she meets him again. “As we walk past the school, we see him lying on a public bench. We continue.”
Up to the house. “I want to go back and see if it’s him and if he’s okay. I would like to take him home. But how do you approach a person sleeping on a bench? What if he isn't? The fear is there. Plus it's 11 p.m. The car is out of gas. We should go and get gas first. I renounce.”
When she meets her sister the next day, she tells her that she saw the man leaving her house around 11 a.m., heading west again on his bicycle with his small Canadian flag.
Lise is sure it was Ron.
“He returns home to his people. He's alone and doesn't have a big budget. He is a very good person. He accomplishes a feat worthy of a reality TV show, albeit without the accolades that come with it. He managed to overcome the hills, day after day, alone, outside day and night. His journey is long and slow. Why didn't I go to him? Why this fear?
Lise would then like to travel back in time to regain the momentum she had the first time. “I missed my chance to share another beautiful moment with him and learn the rest of his story. How was his journey between Lévis and New Brunswick? How is his brother? What did he do there all year? When did he leave again?”
Find out if he climbed the hill.
Six months have passed and Lise still has the memory of Ron and the regret of not opening her door and her heart to him another time. On the other end of the line, Lise tells me that she still thinks about him, about what she could have done, about the human encounter she could have experienced again. “I could have helped him, maybe he hadn't showered in a week…”
She remembers one lesson: reaching out to others. “Not everyone takes the time to talk to him. But when we took the time, we found that he is correct, sociable and friendly. The majority of people are nice, you have to trust.”
I'll try my luck for Lise. Does anyone know how to find this Ron?
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