Page 165 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
My mouth had become dry, and I reached for the remnants of my lemonade which had been marinating under the bench. I took a gulp of the hot, sticky liquid and winced. ‘Time is a cruel mistress, Angelina. Each day that passes the “missing sister” gets older, and my opportunity to be with her diminishes. I am becoming an old man. For God’s sake, she’ll be in her thirties by now.’
Angelina put a hand on my arm. ‘Atlas, I have just examined your palm. I assure you, with a lifeline like that, I can confidently say that you have many years left on this earth.’
A group of young girls appeared on the plaza in front of us, and began to draw on the tiled ground in chalk. It reminded me of my first day at the Apprentis d’Auteuil, when some of the children had played hopscotch. A few moments later, that little villain Jondrette had tried to smash my violin... but Elle had saved me.
‘I will never stop my search,’ I resolved. ‘Not until I find Elle and the missing sister.’
‘I know,’ Angelina replied quietly.
I was nervous about asking my next question. ‘Do you think I will find her, Angelina? Be careful in filling me with false hope, as you have done before.’
‘No hope is false, Atlas. Hope is a choice. Hope meanshoping even when things seem hopeless.Chooseto be hopeful, and amazing things can happen.’ She gave me an encouraging pat on my knee.
‘Then that is my choice.’ I looked into the fountain. ‘Perhaps I need to throw another peseta in.’ My eyes drifted over to the alleyway where I had purchased the ice creams three decades ago. ‘How is your little cousin, by the way? I’m so sorry, but I can’t remember her name.’
Angelina’s gaze momentarily lost its sparkle. ‘Isadora. She is with the spirits now.’
‘I’m so sorry, Angelina. Without her, we never would have met.’
Angelina ran her hands through her hair, which was as blonde and lustrous as ever. ‘Do not be sorry,señor. Isadora lived a life full of love and laughter. She married her childhood sweetheart, Andrés, who she met right here in the plaza.’
‘Were they happy together?’
‘I have never known two people who brought so much joy to one another,señor.’
‘Love is a beautiful thing.’
Angelina looked skyward, allowing the sun to warm her face for a moment. ‘It is. But the upper world often has strange plans. Not even I can understand it all.’
‘What do you mean?’
Angelina stood up and held her hand out to me. ‘Come. We will take a walk up to the Alhambra, and I will tell you their story.’
I got to my feet, and Angelina took my arm. Together, we walked across the plaza in the direction of the setting sun. ‘Andrés and Isadora tried for years to have a child, but could not conceive. Many times, they thought that they had succeeded, only for the baby to pass away in the womb after a few weeks.’
‘Oh Angelina. How awful for them.’ We left the plaza and made our way onto what used to be a very dusty road. In the intervening years, tarmac had been laid. It certainly would have made for a much more comfortable trip up from the station in 1951.
‘I tried to help by consulting with the spirits, of course... but never received a response.’ Angelina gave a sad shrug. ‘I simply thought that it was not meant to be. Then, one day, twenty years into their relationship, a miracle occurred. Isadora found herself with child.’
‘Wow.’ I turned to her. ‘Thatdoessound miraculous.’
Angelina nodded, and her face brightened. ‘Señor, I have never seen such happiness in a human as the day my beloved Isadora came to tell me she was three months pregnant.’ She sighed wistfully. ‘Andrés was exactly the same. We held a party in the caves.’
‘Quite right, too.’ The impressive Alhambra was just coming into view, and it appeared as magnificent as ever.
‘After Andrés found out,’ Angelina continued, ‘he treated his wife like a precious china doll. He worked overtime, too, so that he could put away extra money for when the baby arrived. But then...’ Angelina stopped and closed her eyes. ‘Only a few months ago, Andrés perished after falling from his motorcycle. The roads were very slippery after a rainstorm, and his cargo was heavy.’ She bowed her head, and I felt moved to embrace her. ‘Isadora’s heart was broken, as was her spirit. After Andrés died, she could not even eat or drink. I told her she must, for her baby’s sake, but she began to slowly fade.’
‘I’m sorry, Angelina.’
She stoically continued. ‘The baby arrived a whole month early. I tried everything I could to save my cousin, but I could not stop the bleeding, and neither could theambulanciawhenit eventually arrived in the hills.’ A tear ran down Angelina’s cheek. ‘She died last week, only one day after the baby was born.’
‘Angelina... I have no words. How awful.’
‘Isadora called her baby Erizo. It means, how do you say...’ She searched for the English translation. ‘Pig from the hedge.’
‘A hedgehog?’ I queried.
‘Sí, yes. Hedgehog. Her hair sticks up, you see!’ Despite everything, Angelina let out a laugh. ‘So now we look after the littleerizo, Pepe and I.’
