But then, she thought of Ksenia and Manos, who’d soon be waking up alone too. Driven by a strong sense of purpose, Anna stood and began to make her way toward the house. She didn’t know how she was going to explain to the children that their parents were gone. She didn’t know how to cope with her own loss either. But she had to try. She’d have to survive somehow until they all returned.
Anna was a fighter. She’d fought many battles in her life and already knew this one was going to be the hardest of them all. This one wasn’t over. It had only just begun.
Chapter 23
That morning, Anna got out of bed earlier than normal. It had been ten days already since that fateful evening. The police had concluded their investigation without any helpful findings, just as Anna had expected.
Ksenia was much calmer now. During the first couple of days she had refused to eat, play or even watch TV. All she seemed to do all day was cry and ask for her parents.
Anna had to exhaust all her patience to get Ksenia to lie in bed at night. The little girl would wail and cry for hours before finally falling asleep, exhausted. For some reason, she feared Anna would disappear too if she were to go to bed, and refused to fall asleep without holding Anna’s hand. She also refused to sleep in her room any more, and slept on her parent’s bed with Anna, next to her brother’s cot, so she could watch over him as her mother had asked her.
Anna had no choice but to accept this new sleeping arrangement that gave Ksenia a rudimentary sense of security. She took to singing to the little girl the lullaby that Eleni used to sing. Eleni had known it from her grandmother, who had been a refugee from Asia Minor. Anna had heard her friend sing it to her children many times so now she could do it too. It had an almost magical effect on them, calming them and lulling them to sleep. Ksenia sang it to her brother too as she held him in her arms. It seemed to Anna as if the little girl was trying to take her mother’s place for him.
Anna hadn't had much sleep the night before. She kept tossing and turning with the irresistible urge to go upstairs. The only thing that stopped her from going up there in the middle of the night was the fear of disturbing Ksenia.
Shortly after dawn, Anna put on her robe and, ever so lightly, tiptoed out of the room. She reached the bottom of the staircase and looked up. It felt to her like months since she was last up there and yet it was only a few days since she’d brought down some of her clothes in a rush. Ksenia and Manos had required constant attention from that first morning and Anna had to put her own pain aside in order to relieve theirs. But now, as she grasped the wooden banister until her knuckles turned white, she felt desperate to steal some time for herself.
She needed to go upstairs and pick up the pieces of her own life, to sit alone with her thoughts and meet her pain headfirst. Anna had never shied away from pain. She’d never sought it, but when it came, she’d expose her chest to it, ready for it. But other than needing to deal with her loss that day, there was also a practical reason for her to go up there. She had decided early on that she had to put the children’s welfare first. That meant she had to move in with them downstairs in order to provide them with her undivided attention and constant care.
The apartment upstairs could be put up for rent so she could earn extra income for their upbringing, other than what she could help make with the business in Pallada. She was ready to do anything she could, with the help of Mrs. Sofia, to make sure the children would be safe and provided for. That morning she intended to pack her things away. They could all go into storage. She would put her past in a box, her own life on hold, for the sake of the children until her loved ones returned.
Slowly, she began to go up the stairs, knowing she’d find evidence of her husband’s and child’s past presence, and she tried to brace herself for it. Efimios’s shirt and trousers would be on the hanger by the door with his bag, ready for work, and Phevos’s pajamas would be neatly folded on his bed. Everything would still be where she’d left it that Sunday morning, when she was still oblivious to the fact that an hourglass had been flipped over somewhere, and it was counting down the seconds toward the end of life as she knew it; every grain of sand rapidly falling, falling, until there was nothing left but reminders of the happy life she once had.
The steps creaked under her feet until she reached the tiny landing. She stood before the wide open door and lingered at the threshold looking in. It seemed untouched by time, just as she’d expected. Her bed was made with lavender sheets and large pillows. The kitchenette in the corner was perfectly tidy as she seldom cooked in it. They used to share the expenses with their friends, cooking and having most of their meals together downstairs.
Off to the left, the tiny hallway led to the bathroom and Phevos’s room. It was a small space and, to her eyes, it suddenly looked like an empty shell although her mind was still full of happy memories within its walls.
Numbly, Anna walked up to a chair and picked a shirt of her husband’s that she’d left draped over its back. It still smelled of him and that made her knees weak. She collapsed onto the chair and burried her face in the smooth, cotton fabric. As if the shirt were alive, its sleeves caressed her arms when she held it against her, breathing in deeply, with her eyes tightly shut.
Keeping it in her hands, she moved to sit on the bed, before the mirror on her dresser. Her reflection startled her. She looked different, defeated. Anna hadn't given up, she never could, but the stranger in the mirror looked as though she thought otherwise, and Anna felt angry with herself for her doubts.
She wiped the sudden tears that streamed down her face and picked up her brush from the dresser. She recalled the multitude of evenings when Efimios had offered to brush her hair before bedtime, knowing how much she enjoyed it. He’d sit on the bed beside her as she sat on the very same spot, brushing away the long strands of brown hair, as she smiled at him tenderly from the mirror.
The echo of their laughter died away and his reflection disappeared from the mirror taking away with it her own image too as she remembered it. Anna looked at the silent stranger before her again and lowered her gaze.
There was a vase of cosmetic cream on the dresser, a bottle of perfume, and a square jewellery box made of onyx. Anna opened the box. It contained a few items made of gold: bracelets, earrings and pendants her family had given her on her engagement day. Her only surviving relatives were her aunt and uncle who lived in Macedonia in a village near Thessalonica. She hadn't seen them in years, and they rarely phoned each other. Anna’s parents had both passed away since her wedding. Her father died first of a heart attack, and her mother too after only one year. The doctor said it was due to a stroke, but they all believed she’d died of grief, having given up on life after losing her husband. Anna’s parents had been childhood friends brought up in that same Macedonian village, and they’d never been apart. Anna wished her mother had been stronger because she needed her now, more than ever. But sadly, when some people give up, they forget that the world is not only about them, but that it’s about the others too, who count on them also for their own survival.
Anna sighed. It seemed that all she had to draw strength from were the two children downstairs, who desperately needed her. There was also Mrs. Sofia, and Anna knew she could count on her. She couldn’t wait for her to come back from Corfu. It had been about a month since she’d left. Who knew what she was going through herself, taking care of her sister in her last days?
Anna closed the jewellery box and, absentmindedly, opened the top drawer of her dresser. On the left side, there were brightly colored scarves in naval motifs and flowery patterns, neatly stacked and folded. On the right side of the drawer, there were large envelopes that contained records of bills and a photo album on the very top. The front cover was a picture frame that displayed a photo of her family. Efimios, Phevos and herself on a beach last summer, smiling as they held each other close. She couldn’t see the photo now as, strangely, it was hidden under a handful of odd items.
Anna was bewildered
because they didn’t belong there. Both she and Efimios were very tidy, and she knew Phevos wouldn’t have placed anything in the drawer either. Who could have put this whistle, a box of matches and a few buttons there, and why? If she were to exclude her son and herself, then the only person who could have put them there was her husband. She knew he never did anything without a good reason and that intrigued her. It dawned on her that perhaps these odd items had been left there purposely as a clue. It wouldn’t be the first time as Efimios enjoyed posing all sorts of riddles for his family’s entertainment. His ability to think up new ones seemed inexhaustible. Could it be that he knew what was to come?
With her heart beginning to race, Anna thought back to that Sunday. He’d had that dream about Athena. And then she remembered she’d opened the drawer that morning to take out a scarf. She’d worn it all day at the seaside and when they returned she’d put it back.
Anna looked in the drawer and, indeed, that scarf was neatly folded on the very top. The odd items hadn’t been there when she put it back in its place that Sunday evening. This proved her husband had placed them there afterwards. Efimios had been up here alone during the upheaval, before they all rushed to the cave. Yes, that was the only logical explanation!
But what was her husband trying to tell her? What message had he left behind? It had to be important! She pushed herself to understand as she picked up the odd items one by one. What if they were representations of her family members? She could easily interpret that message. The whistle was her son’s. He kept it in his toy box and often used it to sound the beginning of battle when he played with his toy soldiers. The box of matches would represent her husband because he was trying to quit smoking and had limited it considerably, smoking only on his lunch break at work and perhaps during the odd day out. He insisted on using matches instead of lighters, refusing to flick a switch and make his life easier. Everyone teased him about it.
As for the buttons, these were clearly Anna’s. She had a biscuit tin in her closet, which she called ‘my sea treasure’. It contained buttons of various colors and sizes. When she was young she had received tailor training and enjoyed making new clothes and mending old ones. Each time she decided to throw away an item of clothing that couldn’t be mended further, she’d throw away the fabric but would store any buttons in her tin. This way, when she made something new, she’d have all the buttons she needed.
Anna looked at the objects in her hands again and her face lit up. She jolted upright and trotted to the center of the room with purpose, then stopped. If her husband had left her these items as a message, being as tidy as she is, there was only one thing he expected her to do: to put them back where they belonged. First, the matches!
Anna strode toward the door and removed Efimios’s workbag from the hanger. She found no matches in it and nothing else of significance. Undeterred, she threw the box of matches in the bag and put it away, then rushed past the kitchenette and into Phevos’s bedroom, clutching in her hand her last two chances: the whistle and the buttons.
Her child’s bed was made and his pajamas were folded in the usual place. Fighting back the lump in her throat, Anna gazed at the toy box that stood forlorn in the far corner of the room. She went to it and tipped it over, emptying its contents onto the rug. She knelt and caressed with her gaze for a few minutes the heap of toy soldiers, space robots, and warrior figures. This is where her son’s whistle belonged. He never played with his soldiers without it and had often sounded it with his father playing on the very same rug.
With a deep sigh, Anna dropped the whistle into the empty box and began to pick up the toys from the rug, putting them back in the box one by one. The last one was a toy soldier with a colorful uniform that held a sword and returned to her a mute, wistful stare.
Without losing her nerve, Anna threw that in too, then stood up, still determined to decipher her husband’s message. She strode back to her bedroom and opened the closet, then took out the biscuit tin from the bottom. She knelt on the carpet and placed the tin before her. Her heart thumped against her chest, and she willed herself to calm down. This was the moment of truth. She removed the lid, threw in the buttons that she held, then picked up the tin to inspect it closely.
It was a colorful collection of hundreds of buttons and the old, rusty tin was almost full. Ever so slowly, Anna tilted the tin from side to side in order to listen to the soft sound the buttons made as they shifted and tumbled sideways. It was indeed, a sea of buttons. It echoed like the eternal murmur of the sea, like the rustle of the pebbles as the wave retreats from the shore. Efimios often teased Anna for sitting with the tin, doing that very same thing in order to produce that sound and to lose herself in it.
Anna smiled, for the first time in many days. There was something about this rustling that pleased her psyche like a sweet lullaby. She put her hand in the tin, dipping it into its contents, just to feel the tickle of the buttons on her fingers, and her eyes lit up. Something else was in there.
She took her hand out of the tin and found herself holding a penned letter, folded into four. Astonished and delighted, as this was far more than she’d hoped for, she opened it with trembling hands to recognize her husband’s handwriting.
My dearest Anna,
If you’re reading this, then both Phevos and I are no longer here with you. I’m truly sorry for that, my love, for I can only imagine the pain this is causing you. Believe me when I tell you there was nothing I could have done to avoid this. I promise that I’m going to take care of our son every single minute until we are together again.
Today, I told you about my dream of Athena and saw the fear in your eyes. I had stopped talking about these dreams for that very same reason. Her anger and threats are truly frightening, and I fear we won't be able to avoid her wrath. I believe she intends to break our family apart, taking away our son, if not me too.
I’ve been dreading this even more since Phevos’s ninth birthday last autumn for that was the age I was when Athena recruited me. It was easy for me though, living in antiquity at the time, worshipping the Olympian Gods and thus, already honoring Athena. But our boy is a Christian, and he belongs in this modern world. Should he refuse to serve her if she demands it of him, I dread to think what she would do then.
Although I can't stop Athena from taking our son away, I thought I’d try to change things in the future, so that we may have a hope of reuniting. For that purpose, I have secretly visited the Temple of Poseidon, asking for protection. I’m sorry I’ve hidden this from you until now, but I didn’t want you to worry.
Remember when I told you last month that I wanted to visit a colleague who was off sick? That’s when I went to Sounio and I’ve done this three times, if you remember. I knew this ancient ritual from my old world that fishermen participated in, inside the temple, to ask Poseidon for protection during their voyages. My father took me there many times as he performed this ritual for the protection of his own vessels that fared far across the seas.
The first two times I visited the ruined temple on my own, nothing happened. But the third time, Poseidon appeared in a vision in which the temple was transformed into its old self during its glory days. It suddenly gleamed, full of gold under the light of thousands of oil lamps, its marble pillars, walls and roof erect and magnificent once again. Poseidon stood before me and listened to me. It doesn’t matter if he truly cared. Perhaps he only saw an opportunity to spite his niece, Athena. What matters is that he agreed to help us. I left the temple that day with three wands I found when the vision disappeared, proving it had all been true. Poseidon has given me full instructions on what to do with these wands in order to reunite our family in the future.
I promise you that when Athena tries to take our son, I will not leave him on his own. I will stay with him to protect him, and I know this is what you’d prefer too, despite losing us both. It is Sunday afternoon when I’m writing you this letter. We’ve just come back from the seaside, and you’re downstairs with the others.
I said I would lie in bed and read my newspaper for a while, if you remember. I’m deeply sorry for all the secrecy, but as I said, I didn’t want you to worry without cause.
Deep down I’m still hoping none of this will ever be necessary. But if you wind up reading this letter, it will mean there was nothing else I could have done. I will also need to give you instructions, should this happen. This is why I’ve placed these odd items in the drawer. I know that when you find them, you’ll realize who put them there and why.
Your regard for tidiness will surely lead you to your ‘sea treasure’ and, funnily enough, the name now bears a far greater significance for our family. I’ve placed this letter here in secrecy because the things I’m about to tell you are the secrets of Poseidon, and you must swear to keep them safe, as I have.
As I said, he gave me three wands sculpted by his own hand. They are wondrous artifacts that carry in them grains of sand and shards of seashells from the great oceans of the world. The water inside them has been taken from the darkest depths that never see the light of day. There is one wand for each of us. They will only illuminate when at least two of us are together, holding one each. When all three of us manage to hold one each simultaneously for the first time, that will be the day when Poseidon will reunite us, no matter how far apart we’ll have scattered in terms of distance or time.
There are strict instructions we must adhere to, and I ask you to follow to the letter the ones I leave with you. One of these wands is destined to return to the sea for safe-keeping by Poseidon himself, but the other two are right now in Pallada. I handed them to Mrs. Sofia before she left for Corfu. They are in a sealed box. I asked her to mind it for me, saying it was a special present I had for you that I didn’t want you to find accidentally at home until I was ready to give it to you. Come to think of it, technically I never lied to her.
The Necklace of Goddess Athena Page 24
