‘A plane?’ I asked, rather confused.
‘Yes, that’s it, a plane.’
‘And where does he live?’ I asked, hoping I could help him, as there were a few aviation clubs in the region that I’d seen on the map.
‘I don’t know,’ he answered sadly. And then he reflected, ‘I didn’t know people lived so far away from one another.’ Seeing I was perplexed, he clarified: ‘The Earth is very big, you see. And my planet is very small.’
‘How do you plan on finding him?’ I asked, while I woke up the part of my brain where the large number of detective novels I’d read as a teenager were stored. But his reply would have foxed Poirot himself.
‘He gave me stars that laugh,’ he said nostalgically. For a moment his feelings overwhelmed him, and I saw his eyes misting up.
It was at that moment, as I tried to imagine the figure of the aviator at whom the stars smiled, that I realized who my companion was.
Of course! The sheep, the flower, the blue cape…I should have recognized him from the start, but I was too wrapped up in the world of my own obscure asteroid.
Chapter Seven
At that same moment, as though coming to our rescue just as the car’s motor sucked up the last few gallons left in the tank, a petrol station appeared before our eyes. I breathed a sigh of relief. After filling the tank and checking the oil and water levels, I had to insist that the Young Prince go and freshen up in the bathroom.
When we’d been on the road again for a while, I asked him, ‘He’s the one who gave you the sheep, isn’t he?’
We both knew who I was referring to, but I felt the pain in his expression when he replied, ‘That’s what I used to think…’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, encouraging him to go on. Sadness, disbelief, anger and then sadness again all flitted over his face in rapid succession. In their depths those eyes seemed to be burning, perhaps with hope. My intuition was telling me that it was hope that had brought him here.
When he finally spoke, it was with the muted sound of resignation. ‘It’s a sad story. I don’t think you’d be interested,’ he said, without wondering for a moment how I knew about his sheep.
‘Of course I’m interested!’ My answer was so enthusiastic I was afraid I’d have to explain why I was so interested in a sheep I’d never seen.
To my relief the Young Prince started to tell his tale; it was as though my opponent had overlooked the move that would have put me in checkmate.
One morning, when the Young Prince was busy with his daily chores of cleaning his planet and putting everything in order (‘It’s important to keep the planet nice and clean, you know,’ he pointed out), a tuft of grass that he was just about to pull up said to him, ‘If you pull me up, you’ll be making another mistake.’
‘What d’you mean, “another mistake”?’ he asked, fearing it might be a trap.
‘I mean that you’ll be depriving yourself of a pretty intelligent tuft of grass that could be a lot of use to you. And after all, what harm could I do? I’m in your hands. You can pull me up whenever you like, but I think you’re going to need me. You will be my master and I your servant.’
Before making a decision, the Young Prince asked again, ‘What did you mean by “another mistake”? What was the first?’
‘A very simple one, master. You think there’s a sheep in that box, don’t you?’
‘But of course there’s a sheep in the box!’ cried the Young Prince indignantly. ‘It’s a lovely white sheep that my friend from Earth gave me. He forgot to give me the strap and the post though, because of the pain my leaving caused him. That’s why I can’t let him out to pasture: he might run off and eat the flower.’
He stopped to get his breath back, and when he was ready to pull the grass out of the ground, she spoke to him again. ‘Master, if you let me explain myself instead of being swept away by your emotions, I think I can clear up the whole matter for you.’ And the grass opened out one of her blades, on which, to the Young Prince’s astonishment, a detailed picture appeared of a sheep next to a boy.
After looking at it for a moment, he had to admit that he’d never seen such an accurate drawing.
‘It isn’t a drawing, it’s a photograph,’ the tuft of grass pointed out a touch triumphantly, feeling she’d prolonged her life a little. And she went on, ‘This is an image that captures reality exactly as it is. As you can see, a sheep comes up above a child’s waist. If you had asked me, I could have told you that even newborn lambs are bigger than your eight-inch box.’
Then, adopting a more compassionate tone, the grass pushed the knife home. ‘Master, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but as your servant I must warn you about this so-called friend, who has abused your trust, because the box is, in fact, empty.’
At that moment, the world of the Young Prince collapsed all around him. It was the saddest day of his life. Afterwards he was never sure of anything or anyone again. No sunset would console him now.
Chapter Eight
I saw tears running down his cheeks as he spoke, and I had to make an effort to keep my eyes on the strip of asphalt rising out of the grey haze, growing darker now and stretching to the horizon.
‘Then the tuft of grass started explaining things to me that I hadn’t understood before. She warned me about the malicious tricks of flowers and the treacherous behaviour of men. I was initiated into the chemical and physical sciences and instructed in the most up-to-date statistical and economic variables. I learned dozens of virtual games on one of her blades that lit up like a multicoloured screen. But without my sheep, the days grew longer and the evenings grew sadder.’
One night, the Young Prince had a realistic and deeply affecting dream. He was sitting next to his friend in the cockpit of a plane, flying over the Earth’s gorgeous landscapes. There were majestic mountains with beautiful valleys between them, where crystal-clear rivers reflected every now and then the shadow of the plane. He could make out meadows in flower, like braided rugs, sheltered from the wind by dense woods. As they were flying at a low altitude, they could see deer, horses, goats, hares and foxes running freely over the fields, and even trout leaping joyfully in the streams. The Young Prince had no questions to ask and his friend had no explanations to give him.
They did nothing more than look at the marvels before them and smile, although they sometimes pointed things out to one another and laughed, too. He had never felt so happy. Suddenly his friend started to turn around and gestured that he was going to land on a grass-covered hill. The landing was perfect, as though the Earth had softened its surface to give them a loving welcome. As soon as they had got out of the plane, the aviator took him to the opposite slope of the hill, where a large flock of white sheep and their little lambs were grazing peacefully, and said to him, ‘They are all for you. I don’t know how many there are; it didn’t seem important to count them. I started raising them the very day you left, and the flock has grown along with my affection for you.’
The Young Prince was moved, and as he went towards his friend to embrace him, he woke up alone on his dark and silent planet. His sweet tears turned bitter as they fell, and he thought he heard a voice inside him saying, ‘Look for your friend and let him explain his reasons to you. Only then will you see the stars again…’
Very early the next day, he went to say goodbye to his flower, which he’d grown a little distant from of late. She was pale and withered, as though the boy’s lack of attention had made her waste away.
‘I’m going. Goodbye,’ the Young Prince announced, but the flower didn’t respond.
He stroked her, covering her with his hands, but still she didn’t move. There was nothing keeping him there now.
A few dangerous shoots of baobab were sprouting up one side of the path and the earth was starting to shake, doubtless because the volcanoes hadn’t been cleaned. But none of that was important now. He was getting ready to set off when he came across the tuft of grass.
‘Where are yo
u off to so early?’ she asked.
The Young Prince said nothing, so as not to alarm her, but his eyes told the grass what she wanted to know.
‘You can’t go! You’re my master!’ she cried.
‘But I’m setting you free,’ he answered.
‘You can’t do this to me. You know that I can’t live with freedom. I need someone to serve and you need someone to serve you,’ the grass insisted.
‘If I couldn’t live without you, I would be the slave and you would be my mistress,’ the Young Prince pointed out.
‘I’ll die if you leave me here. There’s no other master who can pull the weeds up and soon they’ll cover the whole planet,’ she implored.
The Young Prince hesitated for a moment, but the decision was already made. He would follow the voice from his dream.
‘If you want to come with me, I’ll have to pull you out of the ground,’ he said, as he grabbed her firmly by the stalks.
‘No, no!’ shouted the grass.
‘Goodbye, then,’ he said, and set off.
‘That’s how my journey started,’ the Young Prince went on, and I realised that his journey had been a very long one. ‘Finally I arrived on the Earth, in that very solitary place. The animals and flowers don’t speak to me now like they did when I was a child. I didn’t find a single human being who could tell me where I was. Exhausted and not knowing where to go, I collapsed asleep just where you found me…’
He fell quiet, and I understood that, sooner or later, all of us have to go on an arduous journey into the depths of our being. And no conquest can offer us a greater reward.
Chapter Nine
‘As you can see, it’s a very sad story, and I don’t think there’s much you can do to help me,’ concluded the Young Prince. I was so absorbed in his account that, when he finished, I had the feeling the car had been guided by another hand.
‘It really is a sad story,’ I agreed. ‘But you’re wrong when you say I can’t help you. There are lots of things I could do!’
This immediately put the Young Prince on the defensive. ‘But don’t you see? I’ve lost a friend who made the stars smile. I’ve lost the sheep that kept me company in the evenings and the flower that brought joy to my life with her games and her beauty. Don’t you understand that I’ll never see the tuft of grass that was my protector and my adviser again, nor my little planet, which might explode from all the volcanic eruptions? And you think you can help me?’ he asked defiantly. This burst of passion had brought some of the colour back to his cheeks.
‘Actually, yes,’ I answered steadily. ‘I can help you to get back everything you’ve lost and more because, in fact, what you’ve lost is your joy in life, happiness itself…But I can only do it if you’ll let me, and if you’re ready to help yourself.’
He gave me a sceptical look but said nothing, so I continued. ‘This is the first serious difficulty you’ve come across in your life, and you need to resolve it. And the truth is that, even though you feel overwhelmed by it now, it isn’t the end of the world. You’ve got the wish to overcome the situation on your side, which is something that both your spiritual nature and your animal instinct command you to do in any case.’
‘How can you be so sure that I have the strength to solve the problem, when I don’t feel like I do myself?’
‘Good point,’ I noted, congratulating myself on having got his attention. ‘I’ll tell you why I’m so sure. First of all, you had the courage to abandon the apparent safety of your planet and go out into the universe in search of a solution. Secondly, in spite of feeling exhausted, you managed to end up somewhere you’d get help. If you’d let yourself land right on the road or in the middle of some field, you’d probably be dead by now. And thirdly, in our first conversation we talked about obstacles, problems, which means you’re already trying to find useful information for getting out of the deadlock you’re in.’
When I saw that I was gaining his attention and confidence, I pressed on. ‘We talked before about how to solve problems. If you like, we can look at the difficulty you’re in right now. And I say “difficulty” because I know you can overcome it, and even though you don’t believe it, the key is in you.’
His reaction was instant. ‘How can you say that? My life was peaceful and happy until I discovered that my friend had deceived me. That and nothing else is the cause of my troubles,’ retorted the indignant Young Prince.
‘You’re putting the problem outside yourself and blaming someone else for your situation, which is an excellent way of not resolving it,’ I said calmly, while his eyes seemed to burn through me. Before he could say anything, I picked up my thread. ‘I’ll show you in a minute, my young friend, that this supposed deception was no deception, at least not one committed with the negative intention you’re assuming. But let’s suppose for the moment that your friend did trick you. That would justify being annoyed with him, feeling disillusioned and even sad, but not the fact that you no longer admire your flower’s beauty, or the poetry of the sunsets or the music of the stars.’
I had my passenger’s full attention now, so I spoke a little more gently. ‘Your friend’s apparent deceit had a devastating effect on your life because your life’s foundations were too fragile. I can well imagine that your sheep couldn’t cheer you up any more, and that the flower, in all her self-absorption, was no comfort. It’s obvious that your daily business wasn’t fulfilling you spiritually, and that you hadn’t cultivated any work, any craftsmanship that might have served as a temporary refuge. Perhaps your whole reality had become flat and the only thing that sustained the tranquillity of your days was yearning for your absent friend. And so it makes sense that when that single support collapsed, everything else fell down with it. In fact, your world was already empty, like the flower that had withered before you left. Your friend’s supposed deceit was no more than the trigger, and certainly not the real cause of your present situation. The sooner you accept that, the quicker you’ll be able to move towards a solution.’
It looked like defensiveness and acceptance were battling it out inside him. I hastened to add another observation that to me seemed obvious. ‘If you had been more secure, if you had had more confidence in your feelings, the grass wouldn’t have found her way so easily into the crack that had opened up in your heart, and she wouldn’t have had such a destructive influence on your life.’
The Young Prince made to protest, perhaps to stand up for the grass, but using the last air in my lungs I carried straight on. ‘Why do we so often prefer the person who disabuses us to the one who has given us the gift of an illusion?’
My question threw him momentarily, which gave me the pause I needed to go on. ‘Beware those who destroy your dreams with the excuse of doing you a favour, because they generally don’t have anything good to replace them with!’
And I asked myself if there wasn’t a little wisdom in the ancient custom of executing the bringer of bad news. Over the years I have discovered that, most of the time, the news has been wrong, or the messenger’s intention has not been what he made out; or that, where there was nothing I could do, I would have preferred to hear the news as late as possible.
I carried on with my little speech. ‘Sooner or later, dreams stop being dreams. We even wake up from the dream of life, with death; or perhaps it’s the other way round. I can tell you with certainty that your friend gave you the loveliest sheep in the world – the one that you imagined in your fantasy, the only one you could look after and that could go with you to your little planet. Didn’t you enjoy his company as you watched the sunsets? Didn’t you go to him in the night so that he wouldn’t feel alone, and so that you too wouldn’t feel so alone? Didn’t you think that he belonged to you because you had tamed him, and that you belonged to him? There’s no doubt that he was more real, more alive, than the one you saw in the photograph, because that one was just a sheep, whereas the one inside the box was your sheep.’ At that moment I understood why, when I travel, I don’t take p
hotos of my loved ones with me: the pictures I have of them in my heart are more vivid.
Then I stopped talking because, when I turned for a moment towards my young companion, I realized that his eyes were filling with tears, as though he had wanted to cry for a long time.
‘Thank you,’ said the Young Prince, and, reaching towards me for a hug, he laid his head on my shoulder. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Ten
A few hours later, as night was falling, we were approaching the place where I had planned to spend the night. The road was as deserted as it had been during the day, but there were a few signs of habitation: white poplars lined the road here and there, and sheltered a garden from the wind; a handful of isolated huts stood next to a huge sheepfold.
In contrast to the rapid nightfall on the planet of the Young Prince, Patagonian dusks are long and silent, and as they advance, half the sky is washed in a glorious array of pinkish, lilac and purple hues. That afternoon the sunset was so exquisite that I felt I should wake up the Young Prince so he could see it.
‘Look how beautiful it is!’ I told him, pointing to the horizon, and taking my eyes off the road for a second as I did so.
‘Watch out!’ the boy warned me, but it was too late.
There was a sharp impact against the front of the vehicle and the car gave a jolt. As I hit the brakes, I could see in the rear-view mirror a white animal, presumably a sheep, lying on the tarmac. I stopped, got out and went to the front of the car to see what the damage was. The Young Prince looked at me as if I didn’t know what I was doing, and went off in the opposite direction.
When I realized he was going to help the injured animal, I said to him, ‘Don’t bother. After an impact like that, it’ll be dead. There won’t be anything we can do.’
The Return of the Young Prince Page 3
