Page 198 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
‘That’s right. Do you see those stars there, that are a little brighter than the rest?’ Atlas nodded, and his father smiled. ‘Let me tell you their story...’
From that moment, Atlas Tanit had been captivated by the heavens and their contents. His father exhausted his knowledge of the Greek myths and legends which many believed led to their formation, as well as the physical astronomy behind the shining wonders.
‘You can never be lost as long as you can see the stars, Atlas.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. The North Star moves in a small circle around the celestial pole. Because it appears stationary in the night sky, you will always be able to find your way.’ He showed his son charts and maps, which he had purchased at discounted rates from his friends in the market. Atlas’s fascination with the globe at such an early age was remarkable. Lapetus loved his son more than life itself, and dedicated every spare hour he had to his passions and development.
Those hours increased in 1922, when the Great Famine had devastated the country. The markets were empty, and suddenly no one had any extra money to buy bone carvings or pay for music lessons. Things became harder and harder in the household. Cronus in particular had begun to decline, often forgoing meals altogether so the others could eat more. It was now Kreeg’s sole responsibility to lay the traps.
Lapetus Tanit began to think of the diamond which his wife had sequestered in the lining of her skirt. How different life might have been if it had remained in their possession... The one chance they had of escape from the horror of Russia had left with his wife and was now almost certainly in Bolshevik hands.
By the winter of 1923, the situation had become dire. With Atlas now five, and Kreeg nine, their bellies were only getting bigger. ‘This is not sustainable, Lapetus. We’re going to die here,’ Cronus told his friend after collapsing into a chair.
‘I won’t let it happen, Cronus. We’ve come too far.’
‘We need a plan for the boys. The day is coming when we’ll all be too weak to feed them. We have to take action now.’
‘What action do you suggest, Cronus?’
‘You have told me of your wealthy family.’
‘It’s true, my parents have money. But they’re in Switzerland. I’ve written to them several times to tell them I am alive, and that they have a grandson. Who knows if the letters ever made it?’
Cronus nodded, then stared at his friend. He wore a grave expression. ‘I think, Lapetus... you need to go.’
‘Go where?’
‘You need to make your way to Switzerland. Get help. It’s the only way I can see us all surviving.’
Lapetus was taken aback. ‘My friend, there is nothing Iwouldn’t do to improve our chances. But surely you would agree that I would die on the journey?’
Cronus put a frail hand to his brow. ‘I admit that the probability of success is... limited. But whatiscertain is that we will all perish here if we do nothing. Your boy, Kreeg, Rhea... we must do everything within our power to save them.’
Lapetus stared at the fire burning in the iron grate. ‘Of course,’ he replied.
‘I wish I could accompany you. But I do not believe I possess the strength.’
‘No,’ Lapetus concurred. ‘I am the only one that could attempt the journey.’ Tears began to fill his eyes. ‘Please look after Atlas. He is a very special child.’
‘We will, Lapetus. We will.’ Cronus hauled himself to his feet, and just about managed to put his arms around his old friend. ‘Believe that you will see him again.’
The next morning, at first light, Lapetus woke his son, and explained to him that he was leaving to seek assistance.
‘Why, Papa?’ Atlas asked, a look of fear in his young eyes.
‘My son... I fear the moment has come when I do not have a choice about whether to stay or go. Our situation is not sustainable. I must try and find help.’
Atlas’s heart sank and he was consumed by an urgent anxiety. ‘Please, Papa. You can’t go. What will we do without you?’
‘You are strong, my child. Perhaps not in your body, but in your mind. It is that which will keep you safe whilst I am gone.’ Atlas threw himself into his father’s arms, feeling their warmth for what would be the final time.
‘How long will it take?’ Atlas managed to ask, through ever-increasing sobs.
‘I do not know. Many months.’
‘We will not survive without you.’
