Page 6 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
Then what will they do with me?
‘Well, if you could speak, they would allow you to live here in their house indefinitely and send you to school like their other children. But as it stands...’ – she shrugged – ‘that is an impossibility, isn’t it? It is doubtful any school will take a boy who is dumb, no matter what level of education he’s had. I would guess from what I know of you that you are educated and would like to continue to be so. Is that true?’
I gave what I thought was a good impression of a French shrug, which everyone in the house seemed expert in executing.
‘The one thing I don’t like is liars, young man,’ Evelyn reprimanded me suddenly. ‘I know you have your reasons for staying silent, but you can at least be truthful. Do you or do you not wish to continue your education?’
I nodded reluctantly.
Evelyn slapped her thigh. ‘Well, there we have it. You must make up your mind whether you are prepared to start speaking, at which point your future in the Landowski household will be much safer. You would be a normal child who could go to a normal school and I know that they would continue to welcome you into their family. Now’ – Evelyn yawned – ‘I have an early start tomorrow, but I’ve enjoyed this evening, and your company. Please feel free to knock on my door whenever you wish.’
I stood up immediately, nodding my thanks as I walked towards the door, and Evelyn stood up to follow me. Just as I was about to turn the knob, I felt a gentle pair of hands on my shoulders, which turned me round and then wrapped around my waist as she pulled me to her.
‘A little bit of love is all you need,chéri. Goodnight now.’
26th October 1928
Today the fire was lit in the dining room before supper. It is very exciting to see one, although I do not understand why everyone is complaining of the cold. The family is all in good health and very busy. Monsieur Landowski is fretting about the transportation of his preciousCristosculpture to Rio de Janeiro. He also has Sun Yat-sen still to finish. I try to help out around the house as much as I can and I hope I am found to be useful and not a burden. I am very happy with my new set of winter clothes, which have been passed down from Marcel. The fabric the shirt, shorts and sweater are made from feels so fine and soft against my skin. Madame Landowski has kindly decided that even if I cannot go to school at the moment because I am mute, I should still have an education. She has set me some mathematics questions as well as a spelling test. I work hard to get the answers right. I am happy and grateful to be with kind people in this lovely house.
I set down my pen and closed and locked my diary, hoping that any prying eyes could not find fault with anything I saidinside it. Then I reached underneath the drawer for the small sheaf of papers that I cut to the same size as the diary pages. These are the papers on which I document myrealthoughts. At first, I wrote the diary merely to please those who had given it to me, in case they ever asked me whether I had used it. But I found that the fact I could not speak my thoughts and feelings was becoming more and more of a hardship, and setting down those thoughts and feelings was a necessary relief, an outlet. One day, I decided, when I was no longer living with the Landowskis, I could slot these sheets into the relevant section, which would give a much more honest picture of my life.
I think it was Evelyn who made it harder to think about leaving, because since she asked me to come and visit her whenever I wished to, I had. And I honestly believed that she had some kind of maternal feeling for me, which felt real and true. Many times over the past few weeks, as I’ve sat with her in her cosy room, I’ve listened to her chattering away about her life, which, as I suspected, has contained much suffering. Her husband and eldest son had never returned from the Great War. I had learnt a lot about the conflict since living in the Landowski household. But then, as I was born in 1918, it was a war I’d missed. Listening to Evelyn tell me of the enormous amount of men who had died on the battlefield when they were forced to go in ‘over the top’, screaming in pain, because pieces of them had been blown off, made me shudder.
‘What upsets me most is the fact that my beloved Anton and Jacques died alone with no one to comfort them.’
I had watched Evelyn’s eyes fill with tears and had reached out my hand to her. What I really wanted to do was to say words like, ‘I’m so sorry. It must be so hard for you. I too have lost everyone I loved...’
She explained that this was why she was so proud and protective of the one son she had left. If she lost him, she would lose her mind. I wanted to tell her that I had lost my mind, but to my surprise, it was slowly returning.
It was becoming harder and harder to be mute, especially as I knew very well that if I spoke, I would be off to school. And above all, I wanted to continue my education. Then again, I would be asked questions about my circumstances which I simply could not answer. Or I’d have to lie, and these good people who had taken me into their home, clothed and fed me, deserved better.
‘Come in, come in!’ Evelyn said as I pushed open her front door. I knew she had a bad leg, which I thought hurt more than she cared to say. I wasn’t the only one that was concerned for their position in the Landowski household.
‘Make the cocoa, will you, young man? Everything’s ready for you,’ she added.
I did so, breathing in the wonderful smell of chocolate, which I am sure I had tasted at some point in my past, but now couldn’t get enough of here. Cocoa time with Evelyn was fast becoming my favourite moment of the day.
I took the two mugs and placed one of them on the table beside Evelyn, and the other upon the fireplace where the little fire was burning merrily in the grate. Sitting down, I waved my hand across my face, feeling almost dizzy from the heat.
‘You came from a very cold land, didn’t you?’ Evelyn eyed me beadily and I knew she was on the prowl for information when I might be taken off guard.
I picked up my cocoa and sipped it to prove that I couldtolerate a hot drink in my hot body, even though I was desperate to take off my woollen jumper.
‘Ah, one day you will answer me,’ she smiled, ‘but for now you remain an enigma.’
I looked at her quizzically. ‘Enigma’ was a word I’d never heard before but it sounded interesting.
‘Enigma means that no one is sure who you really are,’ she explained. ‘Which makes you interesting, for a time at least. Then, perhaps, it becomes rather boring.’
Ouch! Now that really hurt.
‘Anyway... forgive me for my frustration. It is only because I worry for you. Monsieur and Madame Landowski’s patience may at some point run out. I heard them talking the other day when I was dusting in the drawing room. They are thinking of sending you to a psychiatrist. Do you know what that is?’
I shook my head.
‘It is – or they are – doctors of the mind. They ask you questions and decide on your mental state and the reasons for it. For example, if you have some mental disorder, it would mean that you need to be placed in a hospital of some kind.’
My eyes flew wide in horror. I knew exactly what she meant. One of our neighbours back home, whom we’d often heard shouting and screaming and once seen wandering naked down the main street of our town, had been taken away to what they called a ‘sanatorium’. They are terrible places, apparently. Full of men and women screaming and shouting, or sitting there staring, as if they are already dead.
