The elephant lived a very long time. And in spite of what they say about the memory of elephants, she recalled none of what had happened. She did not remember the opera house or the magician or the countess or Bartok Whynn. She did not remember the snow that had fallen so mysteriously from the sky. Perhaps it was too painful for her to remember. Or maybe the whole of it seemed to her like nothing more than a terrible dream that was best forgotten.
Sometimes, though, when she was walking through the tall grass or standing in the shade of the trees, Peter’s face would flash in front of her, and she was struck with a peculiar feeling of having been well and truly seen, of having at last been found, saved.
And then the elephant was grateful, although she did not know to whom and could not think why.
And as the elephant forgot the city of Baltese and its inhabitants, so they too forgot her. Her disappearance caused a stir and then was forgotten. She became to them a strange and unbelievable notion that faded with time. Soon no one spoke of her miraculous appearance or her inexplicable disappearance; all of it seemed too impossible to have ever happened to begin with, to have ever been true.
Chapter Twenty
But it did happen.
And some small evidence of these marvellous events remains.
High atop the city’s most magnificent cathedral, hidden among the glowering and resentful gargoyles, there is a carving of an elephant being led by a boy. The boy is carrying a girl, and one of his hands is resting on the elephant, while behind the elephant there is a magician and a policeman, a nun and a noblewoman, a manservant, a beggar and a dog, and finally, behind them all, at the end, a small bent man.
Each person has hold of another, each one is connected to the one before him, and all are looking forward, their heads held at such an angle that it seems as if they are looking into a bright light.
If you yourself ever journey to the city of Baltese, and if, once you are there, you question enough people, you will – I know; I do believe – find someone who can lead you, someone able to show you the way to that cathedral, to that truth that Bartok Whynn left carved there, high up in the stone.
Acknowledgements
These people walked with me
through a long winter’s night:
Tracey Bailey, Karla Rydrych,
Lisa Beck, Jane St Anthony,
Cindy Rogers, Jane O’Reilly,
Jennifer Brown, Amy Schwantes,
Emily van Beek and Holly McGhee.
I am for ever in their debt.
www.themagicianselephant.com
Also by Kate DiCamillo
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