Man is not made to live without the bondage of time. The Gods had made it so in their infinite wisdom for good reason. Athena may have broken the rule out of love for her city, but Efimios was a common mortal. It was all very unfair to him.
To succeed in his missions of the past, Efimios had had to follow Athena’s commands to the letter. Being a goddess, she had her eye on events and people throughout the centuries. She could foresee how a single event could affect the future. All she had to do was make the moonstone on her necklace glow, something that caused a tingling on Efimios’s chest as he wore it, and then, he’d rush to the cave where she’d appear before him to give him instructions.
Efimios roamed the same city back and forth from world to world, and yet, he belonged nowhere. In the very same street where he lived now, the same buildings had stood for centuries. Each time Efimios visited this place in a different era, the inhabitants were different. Thus, he knew no one, with the exception of the people in one house.
Through time, he’d managed to meet everyone who had inhabited the house he lived in. As soon as Kimon’s grandfather built it, Efimios had arrived to offer his services as a worker and gardener for the land, which stretched as far as the Acropolis hill. Athena had instructed him to do this in order to ensure the cave remained well hidden. Kimon’s grandfather installed wire fencing around his land with the assistance of Efimios, but he never knew the cave existed.
Athena had protected it always from unauthorized access. Jagged rocks and thorny bushes totally sealed its entrance when not in use, but each time Efimios approached to enter, they’d magically yield to the sight of the necklace.
During other travels, Efimios met Kimon’s father too but never formed any relations with him. As for Kimon, he’d met him once when he was still a little boy. He remembered clearly patting his head a couple of times in the street. Somehow, among the men in that house, only Kimon had become a friend to him. There was something about Anna, Kimon and Eleni that felt like family, enough to make him want to stay in their lives forever. Before meeting them, Efimios had been a devoted servant to Athena traveling back and forth through time, as she desired.
He’d been in Athens in the 40’s, for example, a difficult era for the city that was under German occupation at the time. Athena often sent him to Athens, to protect the city and the courageous men of the Resistance. His actions were often heroic although they never involved him toting a gun like an action hero. He did save lots of lives though, sometimes hundreds at a time. His actions were simple, involving a conversation to change someone’s mind, or a seemingly chance meeting to warn someone or lead him to shelter.
Once, he blocked a road with a van causing delay to an enemy vehicle. As a result, he allowed others extra time to run away, saving their lives. And there was another time that was one of his favorite interventions in the city. One night, he visited an underground taverna and sang a few patriotic songs with two young lads, who barely looked old enough to shave. But their time together inspired them overnight to join the Resistance. In time, they became the masterminds of various major operations, leading many foreign officers to safety in Egypt on board boats and submarines.
Another of his favorite missions took place on the very top of the Acropolis in the 1820’s during the Greek War of Independence against Turkish rule. The Turkish army had taken over the Acropolis, and they were under siege by the Greeks led by Odysseus Androutsos. The enemy had run out of ammunition and started to tear down the pillars of the Parthenon temple, gouging out the lead inside them in order to melt it and cast bullets. The Greeks found out, and the terrible news spread like wildfire among the troops.
One of the things that the average Greek has always been very sensitive about is the protection of the Parthenon from further harm. Led by this sensitivity, the Greeks delivered the Turks a load of lead with the famous phrase: ‘Here are your bullets, don’t touch the pillars’. Efimios was there, having carried part of the load himself after raising the alarm among the men. As Athena guessed, the Greeks reacted with self-denial, redeeming the pillars from the Turks with their own blood. The lead they handed over to the enemy was meant for their own chests.
This blind valor that borders on madness is the very reason why the Gods never forsake this nation. Its people have a favorite saying: ‘God loves the Greeks’. Often, just when all hope seems lost, a handful of Greeks will come together and perform a small miracle. And in such times, although the rest of the world may watch in incredulity, the average Greek will deem it entirely normal because of the specific conviction that is etched inside their soul.
Efimios wasn’t needed only in times of war. After WWII and the harrowing Civil War that ensued, the city of Athens slowly started to grow and flourish in times of peace, but Athena didn’t think her work was done even then. Despite the city’s financial and physical growth, there was something in the psyche of its men that had started to fade and falter. Morale plummeted as the city grew bigger in a rush, without proper planning, as people flooded in and concrete blocks replaced lush gardens and playgrounds.
Efimios kept visiting back and forth from the 50’s to the 80’s as Athena commanded. She watched as the people grew fearful of strangers, indifferent to their neighbors, uninspired to live, unwilling to dream, unable even to laugh out loud. She was particularly concerned to see children gradually removed from streets and parks, to be isolated in apartments. She watched as their guardians abandoned them in front of a TV or handed them electronic equipment to play with in solitude instead of offering them the most precious soul pleaser: the company of others, starting from their own.
Efimios was called upon to fix these things in various ways, mainly to inspire and to help people come together, sometimes through tragedy, for there is no greater bonding material for people.
It was in the late 80’s that Efimios met Anna, Kimon and Eleni. From that time onwards, although he carried on with his missions, he seemed to linger in that period a lot, following their lives as closely as possible. As for Athena, she let this happen without seeing any harm in it.
Efimios expressed a great interest in this era of advancement for the city, and Athena couldn’t have predicted his affection for Anna would make him disobey her in the end. Man has the freedom of choice, especially when it comes to his feelings. It’s his birthright, and not even the Gods can deprive him of it. Athena couldn’t have guessed Efimios’s love for Anna would grow to be so strong because the choice had only been his to make.
Chapter 21
After the early morning upset because of Efimios’s dream of Athena, the remainder of the day proved to be a lot more carefree. In the early afternoon, the four friends were still seated around a table at the beach taverna where they’d enjoyed a lovely meal. Phevos and Ksenia were playing on the seashore close by, running up to the water and back, and laughing every time a wave caught up with them and wet their shoes.
Their mothers were watching, their faces beaming. Manos was just under a year old then, and was sleeping in Eleni’s arms. Efimios and Kimon were deep in conversation, suggesting island destinations to each other for their next summer holiday. Every year, they’d decide on a couple of Greek islands that were conveniently linked by boat, making them ideal for island hopping. The two families always took their summer holidays together during the latter part of August when the shoe factory where Efimios worked shut down.
“A penny for your thoughts!” said Eleni, startling Anna out of her reverie. She’d been staring into the distance for the last couple of minutes.
“Oh sorry, I was miles away!” Anna looked embarrassed but didn’t offer a smile. Eleni looked into her eyes, and the disquiet she found there alarmed her. She insisted to know what was wrong, and Anna told her about Athena, and how she’d troubled her husband’s sleep again.
Eleni knew all about Athena and so did Kimon. A few days after telling Anna the whole truth about himself, Efimios had brought Kimon and Eleni to the cave for the same purpose. The
y’d been friends for years by then, and a tremendous burden lifted off his chest when he finally told them everything.
His revelation had bonded the four of them even more, but it also strengthened Athena’s resolve to punish him for revealing her secret, as well as for settling down with Anna in an era where—according to her—he didn’t belong.
Anna was striving to fight back tears as she confessed in whispers to her friend her deepest fears. Eleni listened patting Anna’s hand, telling her it would be all right, although she wasn’t sure she believed it herself. However, Eleni was a Christian just like Anna, and they shared a strong faith in God. She urged her to pray as she’d already started to do in her own heart. Sometimes a prayer does not need words. It’s a single sigh that emerges from the core of your very soul, or a few moments that you take feeling grateful for whatever you have in life that you love.
And so, praying in unison, the two women turned to look at their husbands, who were still discussing island destinations in high spirits. From there, they turned their gaze to their children, whose shoes were drenched by then, and who continued to giggle, making a musical sound that would put angelic music to shame. That very sound marked the end of their prayer in a loud crescendo. It made a tear roll down Anna’s cheek, prompting Eleni to squeeze her friend’s hand with compassion.
***
After the taverna meal, the two families made their way back to the city with a bus ride that was interrupted along the way for a stop at a café. It was on Poseidon Avenue in the eastern suburbs of Athens, and it had a fabulous view of a marina. The spirits of the women were now fully restored, aided by the cheerfulness of their men and children. By the time they took another bus home, the early morning disruption seemed like a distant past. In the evening, the men refused to let the women cook since it had been a tiring day for everyone, so they had a home delivery of souvlaki and chips that they enjoyed in the sitting room in front of the TV.
The adults were laughing uproariously now as they sat on the couch, watching a funny Greek movie from the 60’s. Eleni kept checking on little Manos every now and then. He slept in his cot in her bedroom. Phevos and Ksenia were in her room at the end of the hall playing Monopoly. They sat on the carpet, Ksenia holding a doll with curly blond hair. Every now and then, Ksenia would pretend to listen to her doll’s advice on which property to buy and which to turn down.
“Come on, Ksenia! Leave that doll alone and answer already!” complained Phevos.
“What did you say?” Ksenia asked her doll, ignoring Phevos’s indignation. She hesitated for a moment and then put out a hand, leaving with the poise of a duchess before his feet a handful of colorful notes. “We’ll take it!” she announced regally.
“Thank you!” Phevos responded pulling a face of mock exasperation while processing the transaction. He opened his mouth to tease Ksenia for pretending dolls could speak but then heard a strange sound that made his lips freeze into a perfect ‘o’ shape.
“Go on, Phevos! It’s your turn!”
“Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“It sounded like someone was knocking at the kitchen door. But it sounded metallic. That’s strange!”
“I didn’t hear anything. Play already!” Ksenia huffed and placed the dice in his hand.
“There it is again!” Phevos sprang to his feet. “No way! I have to go see. This is really strange,” he added scampering off, determined to investigate.
“Don’t open the door! Call the grownups to do that, you hear?” cried Ksenia as Phevos left the room.
Ksenia was a sensible child, always playing it safe. On the other hand, Phevos had been very adventurous as a little boy, but even at that age, he was already fully aware of the dangers of the world. The classic bedtime stories see to that. Through the use of symbolism they speak cautiously to the sensitive psyche of children. Phevos knew all about the big bad wolf, the bad giant, and the wicked witch. He’d never open the door to total strangers, especially at night.
Yet, the sound was too strange, and he only intended to investigate further without opening the door. As he walked to the kitchen across the hallway from Ksenia’s room, he had already decided that the metallic sound couldn’t possibly have come from the door that was made of wood. Besides, who would come around the back to knock when there was a front door with a doorbell on it?
The kitchen seemed asleep in the semi-darkness while the rest of the house felt alive with bright lights and activity. Phevos could hear the grownups laughing as they watched the movie. In Ksenia’s bedroom, the vibrant colors of the walls and furniture seemed to pulsate with energy. Yet, in the kitchen, Phevos felt enveloped in an uncomfortable sense of stillness. It was as if something was lurking in the dark, and he felt a shiver on the back of his neck.
He stood at the door, listening intently. He heard the mewing of a cat in the backyard and some distant sounds from the street: a bell from a bicycle and the footsteps of passers-by. Moments later, the street noises died down and all he could hear was the sound of the TV. The door to the backyard was opposite him. All he’d have to do is walk across the kitchen to get there but, somehow, he felt reluctant. It wasn’t like him to fear the darkness, and he wondered what was wrong with him.
Determined not to falter, he put out his hand to turn on the light. He flicked the switch but nothing happened. He tried again and again but to no avail. Perhaps the bulb had blown. It was not important, and he saw no reason why he should tell the grownups about that. Still, it meant he had to give up. He was about to turn on his heels and head back to the Monopoly game when he heard the sound again.
It was barely audible this time, but it shocked him because it hadn’t come from the wooden door, but from somewhere inside the room, very near him. He gasped when he heard it, and for the first time considered calling his mother. But, his adventurous instinct kicked in again, and he decided he needed no help to investigate.
Since he was very small, he’d been fighting against the sense of fear as if it were a mortal enemy. At the playground, he’d choose the highest slide. When the doctor held the syringe, he’d be the only child who didn’t look away or cry. At home, his mother, who slept very lightly and woke up at the slightest sound, often found him wandering in the dark on his way to the bathroom or to the tap for some water.
He had a nightlight in his room, but he kept switching it off. When his mother asked him one day why he insisted on doing that, his answer left her dumbfounded. He reasoned that since God allowed darkness in the world, it was to be explored too just as people did with light.
Phevos heard the sound again. It was metallic, no doubt about that. It sounded as if it was coming from behind the door again. With a shudder, he started to walk slowly toward it. He blinked a few times on his way, willing himself to wake up in case he was dreaming. The whole experience felt surreal to him. In another attempt to decipher if this was a dream or not, he stopped half way and looked behind him. He could still hear the TV playing, and he could see Ksenia on the carpet combing her doll’s hair as she waited for him to return.
Drawing courage from the knowledge that his loved ones were in close proximity, he carried on walking toward the door, but now his body was fully alert, pumped with adrenaline. His legs tingled, ready for him to run to the safety of his mother’s arms, if needed. When he reached the door, he placed his ear on its cold surface to listen and then gasped when, with the corner of his eye, he caught a slight movement in the darkness across the room.
Some light entered the kitchen from Ksenia’s bedroom, but the wall opposite him was shaded by the tall form of the fridge and the overhead cupboards in a way that the space underneath seemed ominous. The movement had come from that dark spot, and he watched intently now, sinking his eyes into that threatening wall, waiting.
There it was again, that lurking jet-black shadow that moved within the gloominess. His heart jumped in his chest, and his shoulders did the same. What was that? In the dark corner, a crouc
hed figure seemed to detach itself from the wall. His legs trembled from the adrenaline rush, and with a single jerk backwards, his body stuck against the door. The figure walked two paces forward emerging into the faint light that came in from Ksenia’s room.
An elderly woman stood there, smiling at him. She looked harmless, except for her eyes that stared at him in a hypnotizing way. Without breaking her stare for an instant, she took two more steps forward and stopped again. Phevos relaxed somewhat. Although she was a stranger, and he didn’t know how she’d come in and why, he found nothing threatening about her. She looked quite frail, if anything. Her back was bent and had a huge hump. She was dressed all in black. In her wrinkled hands, she held a wooden cane. Thick leggings covered her spindly legs from the hem of her dress to her leather slippers. Her all-black appearance was completed with a headscarf. From under it, tufts of snow-white hair fell like thick cotton threads on her wrinkly forehead.
“Have no fear, my child! I will not hurt you . . .” she whispered hoarsely, putting out a hand with the palm exposed. Her arm, as it was revealed from under her sleeve, looked skeletal.
“I know, yiayia,” said Phevos feeling more at ease now. Taking heart, he took a step toward her. As soon as he did, the elderly woman approached him with hurried steps stopping right in front of him by the door. Once again, the boy grew distressed. As he watched her come toward him, he’d seen her wooden cane hit the carpet but instead of the soft thud he’d expected, it had produced a clear metallic sound. “Who . . . Who are you? How did you get in here?”
“How did I get here?” She gave a smirk. “With my key of course! I live here too, you know,” she said producing a little golden key from her dress pocket. She let him catch a glimpse of it and then put it back. Smirking still, she fixed him with a confident stare that made him feel uncomfortable until her eyes started to cloud his thoughts.
The Necklace of Goddess Athena Page 22
