“Not here! Not now! I will trade it with you later. In the meantime, get yourself a good shovel. It is time to make use of your gardening skills!”
Before Phevos could manage an answer, the stranger disappeared into thin air, and the sea engulfed Phevos in an instant. He was back on the seabed. A school of tiny, silvery fish swam by him, and he was enveloped in a dark void.
The next thing he remembered, Phevos was awake in his bed clutching his father’s necklace as it hung around his neck. He could still recall every single detail of the dream. As soon as Daphne awoke moments later, he told her all about it. His sister agreed that such a vivid dream could not be overlooked as it might contain signs.
It was Sunday morning and they didn’t have much time to analyze it in detail, as they were invited at Ksenia’s and Manos’s house for lunch, but they agreed to try to decipher the dream together when they got back home in the evening.
Ksenia and Manos were looking forward to spending that Sunday at home with their special guests. For the first time, they’d felt the need to include other people in their family tradition of lazy Sundays together. They were going to have lunch at home, and Manos was going to show Phevos and Daphne around the orchard in the morning. Manos loved to wander there with Odysseus and knew all its beautiful nooks and crannies. He knew, for example, where the largest anthills were or where to find jade green lizards basking in the sunlight on the rocks among the bushes.
Phevos stood shaving before the bathroom mirror and thought of Manos’s excitement whenever he spoke of the orchard. As he rinsed his face, the words of the stranger from his dream echoed in his mind: “In the meantime, get yourself a good shovel. It is time to make use of your gardening skills!”
Chapter 10
“Good morning! Go to the sitting room and make yourselves at home . . . I won’t be long; just making filter coffee,” said Ksenia when Phevos and Daphne arrived. As they followed her down the hallway, Manos came rushing from the other end. He was still in his pajamas and held a handful of kibble.
“Hi! You’re here!” said Manos with a huge grin.
“Hey, how are you, buddy?” replied Phevos patting him on the back. Daphne gave the boy a hug and kissed him on the cheek.
“I’m fine, thanks. I was just going to give Odysseus his morning snack.”
“And then go and get dressed, okay?”
“Duh! Of course, Ksenia! I can't show you around the orchard in my pajamas, can I?”
“Off you go now, you cheeky devil!” she said and he scampered off with a tee-hee. She turned to face Phevos and realized Daphne was no longer standing there with them.
Ksenia and Phevos entered the sitting room to find her peering through the glass at the contents of a china cabinet. It stood in a corner of the small room, looking tired with age, laden with intricate, carved designs of flowers in the dark wood. Daphne’s delicate nose was stuck on the glass as she marveled at the miniature knickknacks among fine porcelain tea sets with pink flower designs and golden rims. Most were in the shape of animals, like Mr. and Mrs. Rabbit, which were dressed in rustic clothes holding hands. There was also a hen hatching eggs inside a basket, and a kitten that stared with beady eyes as it climbed out of a beautiful purse.
“They’re so beautiful!” said Daphne, turning to face Ksenia and Phevos who had been watching her, chuckling away.
Ksenia approached her to slide the front glass window to the side so that Daphne could take a closer look.
“You must excuse my sister, Ksenia. She just can't resist marveling at pretty little things. She goes gooey in the presence of beauty. Come to think of it, this runs in our family!” said Phevos, squeezing Ksenia in his arms.
It was cold and cloudy that morning, but by eleven it was warm enough for everyone to go out into the orchard without their jackets on. As soon as they emerged, Odysseus ran up to them with cheerful barks, wagging his tail. Manos led the way, to give the others the long awaited tour. The sun peeked through the fleeting clouds every now and then as they sauntered along, Odysseus never leaving Manos’s side.
The dog’s clever eyes shone in the sunlight, his mouth gaping open, his tongue hanging out in a goofy smile. Manos kept bending down to pet him, and Odysseus responded with playful moans and yelps of adoration as he wagged his tail non-stop.
“You’re very fond of dogs, aren’t you?” Daphne asked Manos.
“Well, I’m fond of my Odysseus, that’s for sure. He’s my best friend!” Manos patted the dog on the head.
“That’s nice,” said Phevos. “It’s nice to have friends. Daphne and I are your friends too, right?” he asked, causing Ksenia to squeeze his hand in hers.
Manos gave a wide grin. “Of course we’re friends!”
“Oh, how lovely it is here!” said Daphne. “This orchard reminds me of our own back home . . .” Her voice trailed off, heavy with melancholy.
“Yes, it’s beautiful in the spring, isn’t it?” replied Ksenia. “Especially with the blossom on the trees and everything. But it needs a lot of work. We used to have the assistance of a neighbor, but last year he retired and moved back to his hometown in the Peloponese. I keep telling myself we should hire someone to tend to it. We have to! Manos and I don’t know anything about gardening.”
“Gardening, you said?” interrupted Daphne. She gave a meaningful stare to her brother, and he returned her gaze with equal enthusiasm. He knew it was a sign in connection to his latest dream. The word ‘coincidence’ did not exist in his world.
“Well, I could help you out! I’m a very keen gardener back home, you know!” he piped up.
“Really? You never told me!” said Ksenia.
“Yes, it’s true,” said Daphne, her face lit up. “Our father is an excellent gardener and tends our gardens himself back home. He’s taught Phevos all he knows!”
“That’s great,” answered Ksenia. “But are you sure? Look at the state of it all!” Cringing, she pointed at the weeds and the thorny shrubs that threatened to suck the life out of all the herbs and flowers on either side of the rocky path.
Phevos gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t worry. Weeding is easy. I can also smooth out the path, make vegetable patches and tend to your trees.”
“I don’t know, Phevos. Sounds like a lot of trouble for you. What about your job? I can't ask you to do all that after leaving the shop, you’d never rest!”
“Ksenia, don’t worry about it. I love gardening so it won't be any trouble. On the contrary, it’ll be the perfect way for me to relax after work. And it won't take a lot of time. First, I’ll do a bit of weeding and tidying up, then I’ll clear the paths. I could sow vegetables and some basil to keep the insects away . . . And I could make some flowerbeds! I’ll have to prune and fertilize as well, of course . . .” Phevos kept talking, reciting tasks while Ksenia nodded, her expression exuberant. When he finally stopped, she laced her hands around his neck.
“Thank you, Phevos! It all sounds wonderful. I can't wait!”
“Yeah!” Manos cheered on.
“I could help out, if you like. I know a few things, too,” offered Daphne.
“I don’t know anything, but I’d be glad to help too, if I can,” said Ksenia.
“Of course, that’ll be great,” answered Phevos to both of them.
“Yeah! And I’ll carry the tools for you, Phevos!” chimed in Manos.
Daphne’s eyes turned huge. “You have tools?”
“Oh yes! They’re in the backyard. They’ve been there forever, but my parents never used them any more than we do. No green fingers in our family! They had hired help, too.” Ksenia giggled. She was so happy that day not even the memory of her parents could dampen her spirits.
“Do you have a shovel?” asked Phevos.
“Sure! A big heavy one!” answered Manos, wide-eyed.
“I bet it’s a good shovel, too,” murmured Phevos squeezing Ksenia in his arms, happy to have received a clear answer to his mystifying dream.
Manos’s tour
had brought them to the far end of the orchard, where the Acropolis hill towered over their property. A Greek flag rippled in the breeze on the very top. The Parthenon temple looked magnificent. Behind it, cotton clouds fleeted past like saluting troops on parade.
Phevos and Manos stood together admiring the temple while Ksenia picked wild flowers for her mother’s vase. Daphne stood nearby on her own looking around and, all at once, she had one of those déjà vu feelings that cloud your mind for a few moments. There was something familiar about her surroundings, but she couldn’t decide what it was. She approached her brother and looked up to see the Parthenon again. She still couldn’t believe its deterioration through the centuries. It was even more devastating to her, because she’d seen it in its glory days. And then, realization hit her.
It wasn’t only that the orchard reminded her so much of her own back home. There was something else too that brought on this strong sense of familiarity and, at last, she knew. This very spot was where she and her brother had first arrived into this modern world. She remembered seeing the Greek flag on the pole and the Parthenon from the same angle that night. She also remembered the cluster of lemon trees to her right and the two cypress trees that stood tall side by side. She wondered why they’d wound up here of all places. Was there a specific reason for that?
When Ksenia called her, to give her some of the wild flowers she’d picked, Daphne rushed to her, putting aside these nagging thoughts. It was time for lunch and Ksenia prompted everyone to follow her home. She had cooked roast lamb with oregano and rosemary. The fresh air had made everyone hungry so they followed her without further ado. Odysseus ran up and down among them on their way back, and they all laughed at his antics as Manos chased after him.
After the delicious lunch, they retired to the sitting room for coffee, tea and cake. Manos switched on the TV and sat in an armchair to watch a family movie. Every now and then, he turned his head to chip into the conversation of the other three, who sat together on the couch.
“So, have you always lived in this house?” asked Daphne.
“Yes! My great-grandfather bought the land and helped build the house, too. He was a rich merchant from Asia Minor, who loved good, honest work.”
“Sounds like a wonderful man. You must be very proud of him,” said Phevos.
“Yes, we are, and we owe him a lot. You see, it was he who also bought Pallada later on. It was a stately home at the time. My great-grandfather believed in the value of land, and I’m glad he felt that way because if it weren’t for Pallada, we’d have no source of income today.”
“When was it converted to a hotel?” asked Daphne.
“My father did that many years ago,” said Manos, without taking his eyes from the TV.
“I know you mentioned your parents are no longer with you, Ksenia, but are your grandparents alive?” asked Phevos. He had one arm around her and with the other he toyed with a strand of her hair between two fingers.
“No, we don’t have any surviving grandparents.”
“What a pity! You must miss them,” said Daphne. Although she never knew her own biological grandparents, she’d known Efimios’s parents and they were as loving to her as any grandparent could ever be. She knew well how it felt to miss them.
“Yes it’s true, although we have Mrs. Sofia. She’s so caring and protective that she might as well be our granny,” Ksenia replied.
Phevos gave an easy laugh. “I know what you mean. A few days ago I got first hand experience of that! You see, I had a stomach cramp and when she heard she brought a plate of soup to the shop for me at lunchtime! She returned in half an hour just to make sure I’d eaten it all. And before she took the empty plate, she told me off for not being careful with what I eat. What’s more, for days later she kept checking up on me to see what I’d been eating. It was hilarious, bless her!”
“She’s the same with me,” replied Manos, this time turning to face the others. “She keeps reminding me to dress warm, not to stand in draughts and not to drink ice cold water!” He giggled and the others joined him. His words had struck a familiar chord.
Mrs. Sofia had a particular distaste for draughts. Often, she’d rush around Pallada shutting windows and doors when a wind picked up outside, eager to protect herself and others from getting a stiff neck or back. She was forever warning everyone not to stand in draughts in order to avoid the ‘freeze’ as she called it. Mrs. Sofia always uttered this word goggle-eyed, in dreaded remembrance of her painful experiences trying to treat it with warm compresses and heat-inducing ointments.
“See? We all have a granny after all!” piped up Ksenia and everyone giggled. “And what about you? Do you have grandparents back home? And what about your parents? Do they live far from here?” she asked, a frown of concern creasing her forehead.
In response, Daphne felt lost for words, her eyes darting to Phevos. Thankfully, her brother was happy to reply, not just for the sake of courtesy, but also because he felt Ksenia deserved to know at least a few snippets from his past. He bridged his hands before him, as if in silent prayer, focusing his thoughts, choosing his words with caution. “Our grandparents are dead too. My father raised us. His name is Efimios.”
“And we miss him terribly,” added Daphne, a slight tremor in her voice. She also felt relieved she could say something to her new friends about her past that wasn’t a lie.
“That’s a very beautiful and rare name! I don’t think I’ve heard it before,” said Ksenia.
“Wait a minute!” said Manos. “So your father’s name is Efimios Efimiou? How odd!”
“Yes . . . it is!” replied Phevos. He couldn’t confess that his father, just like any ancient Greek, had no surname. ‘Efimiou’ only meant ‘of Efimios’. Phevos had chosen this surname along the way to state who he truly was: Phevos of Efimios.
“And your mother?” asked Ksenia interrupting his thoughts.
“I’m afraid I have no memory of her. I was still very young when she lived with us . . .” His voice trailed off, and he let out a long sigh before speaking again. “It’s a mystery. She disappeared one day. That’s all I know. My father never explained what happened.”
“Disappeared?” asked Manos, leaning forward.
Ksenia knitted her brows. “So, how come you don’t remember anything about your mother?”
“I know it sounds strange. I know I should be able to remember her but I don’t. My father said I had an accident around the time she vanished, and that this explains the strange amnesia I suffer from.”
Manos gasped. “Amnesia? Did you hurt your head?”
“I don’t even know what happened to me or to her. All I know is that we lost touch with her eleven years ago. I was nine at the time.” His voice was laden with emotion. Ksenia and Manos turned to stare at each other in stunned silence. In their world, coincidence was just coincidence, but somehow, Phevos’s words had managed to stir wonder in their hearts.
“It all sounds very strange, I know . . . but my father promised one day I will know everything, and that my mother will come back to our lives again.” Phevos’s voice wavered toward the end of his sentence.
Ksenia took his hand and squeezed it in hers. “I’m very sorry to hear about this, my love! My heart goes to both of you. I’m sure you realize Manos and I are going through something similar,” she said, her brow creased as she glanced at Phevos and Daphne.
“I don’t remember my parents either, you know,” said Manos. Chewing his lower lip, he left the armchair to come and sit on the couch near Phevos.
“So how did you lose your parents? When did they die?” asked Daphne moving to sit closer to Ksenia.
“No, our parents aren’t dead! Or, at least, there’s no evidence of that. From what we know they just vanished overnight,” said Ksenia.
Phevos’s eyes widened. “I thought you said you lost them eleven years ago!”
“Yes we ‘lost’ them! As in, they can't be found. I meant it literally . . . Oh!” Ksenia brought a ha
nd over her mouth, then cringed with embarassment. “I can tell now why you got the wrong impression. I’m so sorry.”
“Well, I guess that’s better in a way, isn’t it? It means there’s still hope,” said Daphne. Ksenia nodded in agreement.
“So your parents disappeared out of the blue just like my mother did? Eleven years ago? That is really odd!” said Phevos.
“Yes, it’s an amazing coincidence, isn’t it?” replied Ksenia. “I was only eight when my parents disappeared. Manos was only one. Of course, he doesn’t remember them at all, but I have a few memories of them. We have no idea how it happened, where they may be now and why.”
“But don’t you think it’s very odd that both you and I lost loved ones eleven years ago under mysterious circumstances?” asked Phevos, his mind stuck on the notion this could not be a coincidence. His fingertips caressed Ksenia’s hand, and he felt a shudder from her shoulders. A tear rolled down her cheek, and he caught it in his fingertips, wiping it away.
“Don’t cry, Ksenia!” said Daphne. “There’s still hope! Phevos always hopes to reunite with his mother one day.” Ksenia darted her eyes at her, her brow knitted, and Daphne felt compelled to explain. “Phevos’s mother is not my own. I’ve never even met her. Efimios’s father adopted me when I was only eight. Both my parents had already died by then. It was eleven years ago too . . . I guess that period changed everything for all of us, huh!”
“This is so tragic . . .” whispered Ksenia after a few moments of silence. “It’s incredible how much in common we have! Right now, I think of both of you as family. That’s how close you feel to me,” she said with a quivering voice.
“Yes it’s incredible, my love! Although I will try to forget what you said about us being related, if you don’t mind! It would be rather illegal to hug you like this if I were your brother, you know,” he teased winking at Ksenia, trying to lift her spirits. Ksenia responded with a big smile relaxing in his arms, her sorrow somewhat alleviated.
“Can I ask another question, if you don’t mind? Did Mrs. Sofia raise you as soon as your parents were gone or did any relatives look after you for a while first?” asked Daphne.
The Necklace of Goddess Athena Page 11
