You may have guessed this truth, dear friend. We certainly hadn’t. We were in shock. At first I thought the Farm rats were deliberately being unkind and unhelpful. In fact, they were the opposite, and Furrow, in particular, could not have been more considerate. She said, “That Ratenburg story is a myth. But a myth is not a lie, you understand. A myth is truth wrapped up in a story. You have to open up the story to find the true meaning.”
Greatly upset, I shook my head. “You say Ratenburg doesn’t exist. Then it’s not a myth. It’s an outright lie.”
Furrow corrected me. “I didn’t say Ratenburg doesn’t exist. I said it isn’t a place. The truth in the story is that Ratenburg is the journey.”
“The what?”
“Ratenburg is the journey,” repeated Furrow. “Most rats want a life that’s easy, full of pleasure and good food. They want a Ratenburg place. But that kind of life doesn’t make you strong. It doesn’t teach you anything. I don’t know what kind of journey you’ve had but I’m sure of this one thing—it was very hard work. Am I right?”
We all nodded.
“A difficult journey for nothing,” said Retsina.
“Have you thought about all you’ve learned through those challenges?” Furrow asked.
We were silent, all bitterly disappointed. The longing for Ratenburg had made the city real to us—although I do believe if something is too good to be true, it usually isn’t. But that hadn’t stopped us building images of luxury in our minds.
I suspected Furrow was correct about the learning. I tried looking at our travel not as hardship but as what we had been taught on the way. We had become skilled at solving problems. We had learned a lot about ourselves, and each other. We knew what it meant to work together as a family. And I had found a brother.
The ratlets shifted and whispered to each other. I think they understood.
Retsina asked, “What happens now? When rats find out there’s no rat city, where do they go?”
Furrow replied, “Some go over the mountains to new places. A few turn back. Others decide to stay in the valley. Life isn’t perfect here. There are cats and dogs and farmers who hate rats. But if you’ve done the Ratenburg journey, you’ll be okay. You’ve developed skills to cope with a less than perfect world.”
Dear friend, we decided that we too would stay in the valley. After a while, I realised that a perfect city called Ratenburg was actually our desire to gain something better for our family. I think that on the way we found something better within us. We truly had come to a new place in our lives. I looked at the ratlets. In the future, they would have their own stories to tell their sons and daughters, who would probably become Farm rats. I sighed to think what wonderful stories would be told.
That night, while Retsina tucked our ratlets into the hay, my brother Roger and I stood in the doorway of the barn. Roger scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder how many rats start out, and die before they get here.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe most of them.”
“Do you think they’re the ones who get to Ratenburg?”
“When they turn up their paws,” said Roger. “Drop dead. They go to a perfect city for rats?”
“Maybe,” I said. “And maybe not.”
We were turning to go back into the barn, when he gave a sudden squeak and nudged me with a paw. “Look, Spinny! Look up there!”
I followed his gaze and saw the light in the sky.
“Our family star!” said Roger.
