The Necklace of Goddess Athena

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The Necklace of Goddess Athena Page 3

by Effrosyni Moschoudi


  “Truly. How happy they must all be!”

  “We do not know that, Daphne. Remember what Father says: ‘Happiness stems not from what you own but from what you are grateful that you own!’”

  “Yes, Phevos, that is what Father says, but—”

  “So you agree it is possible to have wealth and commodities and still feel poor and unhappy? Others may be the richest and happiest people in the world having very little indeed!”

  “Well, Phevos, that may be so, but our young hostess has so much kindness! Surely that cannot go amiss where it comes to the pursuit of happiness!”

  “You are so right, Daphne. She and the little boy must be truly blessed, I imagine.”

  “Did you see how easily they trusted us and invited us in? What a virtue for modern Greeks who do not even pay respects to Ksenios Zeus!”

  “Careful, Sister,” Phevos said in a whispered tone. “I believe the damsel is approaching!”

  “Really, Brother,” said Daphne in a hushed manner. “Do try to remember to use the correct words instead of the ones from our time.”

  “What did I say?”

  “You said ‘damsel’, silly! The right word is—”

  “I know, I know, it’s ‘girl!’ ” he interrupted her, and Daphne started to giggle. She’d always been better in Modern Greek than he was. She often teased him about it. At that moment, the warmth of the room combined with her feeling better, contributed to this mad giggle that threatened to make them look like idiots, if not impostors in the eyes of their kind hostess.

  “Oh, stop it already, you naughty little fox!” he retorted, putting his hand playfully over her mouth. He managed to withdraw it quickly enough, before Ksenia entered the room. The girl’s face lit up when she found Daphne smiling as she lay on the bed, looking at her brother with an amused expression on her face.

  “Goodness gracious! You’re right as rain!” Ksenia smiled with relief and approached the bed, placing a bottle of iodine and a pack of cotton balls on the nightstand. In her hand, she held a cotton ball soaked with alcohol solution.

  “Yes, I do admit I feel a lot better now, miss! I still have a headache, but the dizziness seems to be gone now. I think it was your bed that made me better. It is so soft, it is unbelievable.”

  “Oh, I’m so pleased to hear that. You had us all worried a bit out there!”

  “I know, I am sorry . . .” Daphne cringed with embarrassment.

  Ksenia gave a dismissive wave. “Oh, don’t apologize . . . Anyway, I brought something to treat your wound. I normally keep a disinfectant for cuts and grazes, but I only seem to have clear alcohol at the moment.”

  “That is all right, miss, thank you,” replied Daphne.

  “My name is Ksenia. What’s yours?” she asked, her hand hovering mid-air, about to apply the cotton ball to the wound.

  “It is Daphne. And my brother’s name is Phev—” Daphne jerked her head away from Ksenia’s hand, letting out a single shrill of pain. “Almighty Zeus, that burns!” she added, her face screwed up. The sting from the clear alcohol had overcome her too suddenly to allow her to choose her words with care, the way she’d managed so far.

  Ksenia gazed at Daphne, aghast. Did I hear right? Did she just mention Zeus?

  Standing close by, Phevos panicked and tried to think of something to say to make things right again. He had heard from his father about the alcohol solution that modern Greeks use. Efimios had described how it stung. Phevos thought perhaps his sister had forgotten this mention, or maybe the burn she’d felt had been too strong to bear, all the same.

  “Oh, come on, Daphne!” he said, interrupting the stunned silence between the two young women in his best effort to seem nonchalant. Taking the cotton ball from Ksenia’s hand, he tried to sound like the whole thing amused him. “Really now, Daphne! What harm could clear alcohol possibly do to you?”

  Daphne turned her mute gaze to him, a mortified expression on her face. Phevos patted the wound for just a moment with the cotton ball and then, out of nowhere, got the notion that if he blew on it, it would be helpful. He couldn’t tell where the idea had come from, but he felt grateful all the same when, to his surprise, it turned out it actually worked. The alcohol solution had stung her again but blowing on it afterwards had eased the expression of discomfort on her face.

  “All right, all right now, thanks . . .” said Daphne in a small voice, embarrassment having flushed her cheeks bright pink.

  Ksenia remained speechless as she sat on the side of the bed. Her mind was now wandering to the young man’s previous mention to stables. She thought of the girl’s childish innocence that was evident in her manner like an almost visible aura. It was the manner of both, as a matter of fact, that had something odd about it. It wasn’t so much the way they looked. It was rather their choice of words.

  They used many dated ones from the old Katharevousa Greek, which she knew started to fade away during the 1970’s, making way for Modern Greek in speaking and writing. It was their use of these dated words that gave them their aristocratic, regal air. There was also that mention of Zeus earlier that added to the mystery. Her guests’ eccentricity provoked Ksenia’s curiosity. She wondered if there were still villages on the foot of Mount Olympus, where people might still refer to Zeus in the local vernacular. Not believers, of course; but maybe this was some kind of local idiom that had survived through the millennia.

  The notion amused her, exciting her imagination further. Perhaps they hailed from some tiny, God-forsaken village perched on Olympus and that was their local dialect. Or perhaps they were referring to Zeus between themselves as a private joke. Could they just be strange characters from the outskirts of Attica with an odd sense of humor and nothing intriguing about them after all?

  Despite her curiosity, Ksenia reacted tactfully again. Her upbringing did not permit her to ask any questions. She took the bottle of iodine from the nightstand, hoping Daphne wouldn’t react strangely again. She thought it best to prepare her this time, just to be sure.

  “Right! Now the iodine and we’re done. It will color your skin for a while, but it won’t burn, I promise. And it will disinfect the wound. Is that okay?” asked Ksenia with a warm smile as she held the cotton ball ready for application.

  “Yes, of course,” replied Daphne in a whisper, still embarrassed from before. She knew Ksenia was only trying to help and felt relieved to discover she hadn’t lied either. The iodine didn’t sting at all.

  “Right, that’s done! And now get some more rest, okay?” Ksenia stood. She collected the items she’d left on the nightstand and smiled at her guests as she moved to leave the room.

  “Thank you,” the two siblings replied in one voice.

  “Not at all! You’re most welcome to stay here overnight, if you wish.” Ksenia paused. She’d said this impulsively, without even thinking. Still, she found herself feeling no regret, only surprise at herself. “You can both stay in this room,” she carried on, feeling more confident now. “I’m only sorry there’s only this double bed for both of you.”

  “Oh, that’s fine . . . that’s . . .” burst out Phevos in a low voice, stunned by this kind offer.

  Ksenia stood at the door looking at her strange guests for a few moments. She saw honesty and kindness on their faces and felt strongly she could trust them, despite the mystery that so intrigued her about them. The last remnants of her doubts had melted minutes ago in the clarity of Phevos’s eyes, when she’d first gazed into them under the strong light of the room.

  “Thank you a million times, Ksenia,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, as he walked up to her. Phevos knew they had no choice but to accept her invitation. “How fortunate for us to stumble upon a hostess who bears the name of Ksenios Zeus! Truly a befitting name to someone as kind and hospitable as you, Ksenia!”

  “Oh yes, Zeus! He’s the patron of hospitality, right? You know, ‘Ksenia’ is actually short for ‘Polyxeni’, but that’s nice anyway, thanks,” she said with a tittering
laugh. She didn’t care any more that Zeus was widely used in their vocabulary. All she thought of now was the deep blue in his eyes, the same color as the sea in her mother’s paintings.

  Phevos was unaware of the effect he had on her, and he was equally enchanted by her. “Well, Ksenia, regardless of the origin of your name, to me you will always be the epitome of hospitality!” He flashed her an easy smile. “This room befits a king and a queen, let alone two common mortals like my sister and me. May God repay you for your kindness,” he added, purposefully omitting the word ‘Zeus’ from his wish in order to match her obvious religious beliefs.

  “Well, thank you!” Ksenia gave a giggle, feeling overwhelmed. His words came straight from the heart. And he spoke so politely, like a prince. There was something regal in his manner too, in the solemn pauses between his sentences, and the gentle way he gestured with his hands as he spoke. And how religious he must be! People don’t often mention God these days. God has become a taboo subject that you only refer to when heartache takes over your life. The rest of the time the idea of God lies dormant in people’s minds, like a pack of medication in a dark drawer.

  From the bed, Daphne watched, amused. Trying to conceal her smile, she placed one hand surreptitiously over her mouth. Her brother hardly ever spoke to young ladies. She’d never seen him act like this around a girl before.

  Ksenia glanced at her wristwatch. It was almost half past nine. As if on cue, Manos appeared at the door. “Ksenia, when will we eat? I’m starving!”

  “Of course, Manos!” she said, feeling a prick of guilt inside for neglecting her brother. Where had the time gone? “I’m so sorry, my sweetheart. I’ll go make some quick sandwiches now for all of us. We should go to bed as early as possible. Our guests must be very tired.” She patted his head tenderly, and then turned her attention to Daphne and Phevos again. The more she looked at them, the more trust and sympathy they instilled in her.

  Manos was taken aback. Why had his sister referred to these strangers as their guests? What on earth was she thinking? Had she gone mad? Didn’t she watch the evening news? She’d actually invited two total strangers to stay for the night? His face now carried an expression of surprise without the slightest effort to conceal it. Manos stared at the strangers for a few seconds while his sister engaged into some kind of small talk with them. The girl was lying on his parents’ bed, and he didn’t like that at all. But, truth be said, she’d looked really bad out there in the cold, shivering like that, barely able to stand. Perhaps she needed the rest. And she looked harmless enough. Manos darted his eyes at Phevos next, inspecting him thoroughly. He thought he looked like a tramp in those stained clothes, but he had a kind face, and he smiled a lot. Robbers and killers don’t go around with girls who bleed from their heads, do they? Perhaps he was harmless, too. Manos turned on his heels and left the room.

  “Well, I’d better go and prepare those sandwiches. You must be hungry,” said Ksenia.

  “To be honest, we are,” Phevos admitted with an easy laugh. The warmth in her eyes had melted away all the worry inside him. He looked at his sister, who was nodding in agreement from the pillow.

  Ksenia made to go but hesitated again at the door. “Would you like to have a shower after your meal?” she asked Phevos.

  Phevos’s smile froze, and his eyes darted to the floor. He had no idea what she’d just asked, and he scratched his head trying to think, trying to guess what she could have meant.

  Ksenia knew immediately what was going on. He couldn’t possibly have understood what she asked and falter so much. If he didn’t want a shower, he’d simply have declined by now. Feeling sympathy growing in her heart for him all the more, she rushed to his rescue. “I think a shower would do you good. Nothing better than hot water and soap at the end of a tiring day, right?” she asked, nodding encouragingly.

  Phevos looked up from the thick carpet and grinned at her with evident relief. “Thank you, Ksenia! Indeed, that would be marvelous!”

  “I still don’t know your name.” Ksenia smiled at the preposterous realization. Imagine inviting someone to use your shower whose name you don’t even know.

  “Of course, I do apologize! My name is Phevos. Delighted to make your acquaintance!” he said, offering his hand, relieved she hadn’t felt estranged enough by their odd behavior to kick them out.

  Twenty minutes later, Phevos and Manos were sitting at the table exchanging awkward glances, as Ksenia served the meal. It was a large bowl of salad, a smaller one brimming with chips, and also, individual plates of omelet sandwiches with feta cheese and oregano. Ksenia urged them to start eating and took a tray to Daphne. She helped her sit up on the bed, plumped up her pillows, and placed the tray on her lap. Other than a sandwich, chips and salad, it contained also a warm glass of milk and a pill that she advised her to take afterwards for the headache.

  Daphne smiled brightly as she watched Ksenia leave the room to join the others for dinner. When she finished her meal, Ksenia returned to take away the tray and to say goodnight before she turned out the light. As Daphne lay in the dark waiting for her brother to come in after his shower, she watched as ghostly beams of moonlight crept through the half-closed window shutters. They toyed with the darkness of the room, reaching out to the opposite wall where they danced with the delicate shadow of the young olive tree that stood guard outside the window.

  As she watched this mesmerizing spectacle, with the scent of flowers still emanating from the bed linen, Daphne wished again that her kind-hearted hosts would always be grateful for all the riches they had, for that would guarantee them happiness according to her father. At the thought of Efimios, a single tear rolled down her cheek and then, ever so softly, she surrendered to sleep.

  ***

  Phevos stood before the tall mirror in the bathroom. He had just enjoyed a hot shower and had found it easy to operate the strange taps. His father had described to him time and time again in graphic detail, everyday life in this modern world. This meant Phevos could identify many of the strange items he now saw around him, like the toothbrushes on the sink, the hairdryer that rested on the shelf, and the radiator by the door where towels were hung neatly. He looked around him some more and felt pleased with himself for remembering his father’s stories well enough to be able to identify so much now. The recognition of everything he saw came so easily to him that it almost felt like he knew all this from before, and he thanked his father silently again, for his endless storytelling.

  Phevos looked at his reflection in the mirror, admiring the second set of strange clothes he’d been given to wear today. Ksenia had left them for him on the washing machine. They belonged to her father. Black cotton slacks, a brown sweater and woolen socks. They had all felt wonderfully soft when he put them on. A strange word was written across the front of the sweater, and he tilted his head as he tried to decipher it from the mirror image. The word was in Latin characters, but he didn’t know what it meant, despite being proficient in Latin. It wasn’t a Latin word but an English one, the name of a British seaside town where Ksenia’s parents had once spent a week’s holiday.

  Clueless, he pulled a face of dignified resignation and turned around. He picked up his dirty clothes and placed them in the washing machine as Ksenia had previously asked him. He’d been mystified by her request, but once again she’d helped him out by pointing to the machine. Phevos was well aware by now that she had realized he didn’t understand everything she said, and he was grateful for her tactfulness to explain without asking further questions.

  As soon as he entered the kitchen, Ksenia walked up to him with a smile. She was pleased to see the clothes had fitted him well, except for the sleeves of the sweater that seemed slightly too short. Before dinner, she’d also given Daphne a nightdress of hers to sleep in. It had been a little too long for her, but other than that, it had been fine.

  Manos had already gone to bed, and Ksenia stifled a yawn as she switched off the kitchen light. When she said goodnight from the bo
ttom of the staircase, Phevos thanked her one last time. He waited until she entered her bedroom upstairs, and then switched off the light in the hallway.

  Aided by the moonbeams that still danced with the olive tree shadow on the wall, Phevos found his way to the bed in the semi-darkness. His sister slept soundly beside him, and he sighed with relief that at least, for now, she was safe. Under the heavy duvet, his troubled mind surrendered to the warmth and to a restful sleep. Quite unexpectedly, on that same night, he was granted the first of many signs to come.

  Chapter 3

  The morning sunlight filtered through the satin curtains and bounced off the crystal lampshade on the nightstand. From there, iridescent beams reached the opposite wall, chasing each other like a bunch of joyful children dressed in all the colors of the rainbow. Phevos opened his eyes and panic kicked in as a first reaction to the odd surroundings. With a single jerk from his muscled body, he sat up, sending the side of the duvet flying into the air. A split second later, realization hit him, and he covered his face with his hands. When he looked up again to stare blankly at the iridescent colors on the opposite wall, his brow was deeply furrowed.

  He’d had an odd dream the previous night. It was about Goddess Athena. He’d never dreamt of her before, so he thought this had to be a sign. She’d spoken to him with soothing words. He could not remember what they were but had a vivid recollection of the sweetness in her voice. She hadn’t appeared in a suit of armor, the way he’d have expected her to. Instead, she’d looked rather fragile, like a fairy tale princess, standing tall and proud in a long, silky dress that accentuated her slender figure.

  It was sunny in the dream, and her dark, long hair flowed wildly in the breeze. She started to speak to him softly, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying and then a storm broke out. There was thunder and lightning and a heavy rainfall, and Phevos could no longer hear her voice. And then, through the storm, he finally heard her speak, and she said this: ‘Remember my sister Artemis, the huntress! A good hunter knows where to seek refuge. I am going to find one. I command you to come and find me!’ With those words she had disappeared and that was the end of the dream.

 

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