by Sara Alexi
Thanasis has not always been a donkey breeder. In the seventies he ran a nightclub in Saros, The Black Cat, but Cosmo was still at school when the business closed.
From inside the cottage there is a clattering sound and an expletive, and then Thanasis re-emerges with a battered and rusting toolbox.
‘Right, so let’s get the casing off, and we can have a look at the old brushes. You have the new ones, yes?’
Cosmo nods, and Thanasis selects a clamp.
‘And then we need something like … Ah, that will do.’ He puts a broken chisel next to the clamp. ‘You know, this is why I gave it all up.’
‘What’s why you gave all what up?’
‘This sort of messing about that growing oranges creates, not getting paid, and the time it takes to strim.’
‘Oh, I forgot your strimmer.’ Cosmo looks up from the motor.
‘Good, that’s another thing I should have got rid of when I sold the orchards. Just never got around to it. I don’t really need it just for these.’ Thanasis selects a screwdriver and points over his shoulder at the trees that surround his cottage. ‘Hold the motor so it doesn’t twist, will you? These screws are rusted on.’
Cosmo is sweating already.
‘It’s a silly game everyone round here seems to play without question!’
‘Is that why you sold them? Because of messing about with stuff like this? There, put your screwdriver there.’
‘That and the fight every year for a decent price. But, you know what, I think I ran too fast and I probably burnt out early. The Black Cat took it out of me. Just the day-to-day running of it. I thought it would be fun, you know, to run a nightclub. I pictured myself at the bar, chatting to the customers, hanging out. You know what I mean? Like a night out every night, but without spending. And it was fun, of course, but the bureaucracy! You wouldn’t believe it! Licences, taxes, social security, stock control, accounting. Endless!’
He sighs as if the weight of the world is too much to bear. ‘And the hassle with the oranges was just too much on top.’
One of the donkeys takes a deep rasping breath that sounds like the beginning of a bray but peters out before it has properly started.
‘But to sell it all was pretty drastic! Have you got any oil? We might as well oil the bearings while we’ve got the casing off.’
‘Good thinking. There in the toolbox. It was the most natural thing in the world. My cousin’s kids wanted to go to university, one in France, the other in Holland, and what better reason to sell was there than that?’
‘Do you think you can keep holding that, but turn this … yes, there – ah, that’s it! Do you ever regret it? You know, only having the donkeys now?’ Sweat is dripping into Cosmo’s eyes, blinding him, and he wipes an arm across his forehead.
‘I used to want things, things I suppose people consider normal – a house, a wife, maybe even children.’ Thanasis briefly chortles. ‘But I think the bar showed me too much about life and I just stopped wanting anything.’
‘Apart from donkeys.’ Cosmo chuckles now.
‘Ah, the donkeys. They are my children now,’ Thanasis says. ‘You laugh, I hear you, but there are many men like me. There was a man came the other day all the way from Orino Island for a donkey. Now, him I understood. I swear he was a younger version of me! All he needed was a very simple life and a donkey for company, and that man was as content as ever I have known a man to be.’
‘Didn’t he have a wife?’
‘No.’
‘Hmm, now my mama has passed, God rest her soul’ – his impulse is to cross himself but his hands are occupied with the motor – ‘I am not so sure man is designed for single life.’
‘Well, if that’s the way you feel, there is still time, man! … I think I have it! Yes!’
The screw that Cosmo is struggling with comes loose and a washer comes with it, rolling across the table and onto the floor.
‘Have you never thought of getting married?’ Cosmo pauses, holding up the old, worn brushes, which are now free of the motor. ‘Right, let’s see if we can get the new ones in.’ Cosmo peers into the workings of the motor.
‘There was a girl once,’ says Thanasis. ‘Thought about her a lot over the years but, well, it never seemed to be the right time to make my feelings known. Besides, you know how it is. Late at night you feel lonely, and need a bit of companionship, but then you wake up the next morning and you want to seize the day. A woman, at those times, with her demands for things domestic, would only be annoying. I think, perhaps, these unfulfilled ideas have become unrealistic fantasies rather than realities. Although I think a part of me still hopes.’
Thanasis begins to gather up the spanners, arranging them neatly back in the toolbox.
‘Are you going to put it back up tonight, because I think we are losing the light.’
One of the donkeys has put its head over the fence, a rickety affair cobbled together out of palettes and wire. Thanasis goes over to the animal, pats its neck and leans his face in so that, for a second, they are cheek to cheek.
‘Tomorrow will do. Do you wish you had spoken out?’ Cosmo is curious to know what Thanasis feels about the path he has taken. It might just help him make up his own mind about what to do.
‘Sometimes. Like now, for example – would it not be good if a woman came out of my cottage with a large pastichio straight from the oven?’
Thanasis laughs and looks over to the door, clearly picturing the scene.
‘Ha! You haven’t got an oven.’ Cosmo packs the rest of the tools away. The sun is sinking and has softened the edges of the world, bathing everything in a pinkish hue.
‘But if I had a wife then I would have an oven.’ Thanasis takes a rag that is hanging on the branch of one of the trees and wipes his hands carefully. ‘So, do you want to share the remains of a spanakopita, or shall we go to Stella’s for something to eat?’
He rehangs the rag and turns to his well. With some energy he pumps the lever, and when the water arrives it spurts from the ironwork into a bucket. With his free hand, Thanasis puts a piece of guttering under the cascade, directing the flow of water to a series of half-pipes that lead through a hole in the fence and into the water trough. Cosmo has seen Thanasis do this hundreds of times but the simple ingenuity still fascinates him.
They sit in silence watching the beasts drink. In the distance, somewhere in the village, a cockerel crows, confusing the setting of the sun with its rising, perhaps.
‘Stella’s,’ Cosmo says finally, and his friend rolls down his sleeves and they set off on the twilit road.
They eat slowly, watch the night fall, drink an ouzo or two, and then Cosmo declares he will call it a night. He did not have a sleep in the afternoon and he must be up for the post in the morning.
‘Are you going home so early because you know I am about to challenge you to a game of tavli and you are scared you will lose?’ Thanasis is more than a little merry from the ouzo.
‘If I thought you could give me any real competition I would stay for sure.’ Cosmo is quick to tease him back.
‘I seem to remember that it was you who didn’t give me any competition the last time we played,’ Thanasis says. The strange, wobbling sound of a donkey echoes across the village. The momentum builds; the crescendo has nearly arrived when it quite suddenly stops.
‘Bronk. I have called that one Bronk.’
‘Well, Bronk is calling you home and I must go to my bed, so I wish you goodnight, my friend.’
The village is silent as they make their separate ways home. Cosmo turns at the corner for a last look at the fairy lights wrapped around the tree outside the eatery, which cast light in a pool around the tables.
Cosmo decides it has been a good day all round. This farm work is satisfying, and tinkering with the engine with Thanasis was very companionable. He turns into his road and at the far end he can see the light of the big house off to one side behind the church. The balcony is lit and the papas is lounging t
here.
How often the sight of the priest has reminded Cosmo of Maria’s suitor. The other girls in the village had regarded Maria with envy when she began to walk out with Nektarios, who would soon be ordained, and who would provide her with all the trappings befitting a priest’s wife: a modern house, a car, an income for life and then a generous pension. And, it was rumoured, Nektarios’s father had pulled strings so his eldest son would be posted to Athens immediately and would not have to spend years in some rural village. They would be married first, everyone in the village knew, and then he would be ordained, since priests may not marry once they have taken their vows. Of course, everyone also knew that he hadn’t actually asked her yet, but this was surely a mere formality, and preparations had begun …
‘The dirty dog!’ Cosmo exclaims as he recalls all this, and he spits on the ground. ‘How that must irk Maria every time she opens her door or looks out of the window to see a priest.’
He shakes his head. ‘To be reminded like that, every day, of her rejection, of her spinsterhood,’ he mutters to himself, and he stands and stares at the papas all lit up. She must have thought her situation was so sure. And then – the rejection letter. He lets out a breath that surprises him by turning into a burp. The food was good.
Sometime after the rejection letter, he heard that Nektarios had delayed his ordination so he could marry a rich woman from Athens. He didn’t mention this to Maria, of course. It is not surprising that Maria is so openly bitter about the church and all it stands for, or that she remarks on and judges almost everything the papas does. The villagers don’t understand. It is easier for them to think she is just a busybody – for that is how her actions make her appear. If only they knew the whole truth, perhaps they would understand. But it is not his story to tell, and he is unable to come to her defence, so she must bear the looks of the villagers and he must bear the things that some of them, the unkinder ones, say about her.
He still hasn’t got used to coming home to find the house in darkness. Maybe he could get a timer, or a light that comes on with movement. Do those exist or has he just made them up?
‘Imagine Thanasis having a fancy for a girl,’ he chuckles as he heads up the stairs. It’s hard to imagine his friend being anything but a very confirmed old bachelor.
Chapter 12
Usually very reliable, the bike seems to be misfiring today. It coughs and belches out black smoke as Cosmo brings it to a stop outside Anna’s house. It has done this once before and his mama nagged him to get it fixed, but then the problem cleared up of its own accord. Maybe it will again.
He kicks the stand down and delivers a bundle of letters to Sakis opposite. He hesitates to leave as he can hear the musician playing his guitar, the melody drifting through the open letterbox, but as Cosmo’s postbag is full today he must press on. There are none for old Anna, but he knocks anyway: he has not seen her for a few days, and it is best to check she is all right once in a while, letters or no letters. As it happens, she in the middle of washing her hair and does not wish to chat, which suits Cosmo fine.
The bike starts without difficulty and there is no black smoke now, and it behaves itself for the rest of the morning. He has left the letters for Babis till last. There is nothing nice about seeing that man! Babis may be younger than he is, but the lawyer’s manner is intimidating and he uses long words that Cosmo does not understand. Tension builds in Cosmo whenever he talks to the man, and he feels that at any moment Babis is going to bully him, and this in turn makes him shrink and leaves him unable to speak. But he must steel himself to ask how probate is coming along. Five months he has been paying out for it, and so far he has seen no results.
‘You needn’t have knocked, just put them through the letterbox,’ Babis says as he opens the door, his crisp white shirt untucked and a piece of toast in one hand. Jam has been spread liberally on the toast and it drips over the lawyer’s fingers.
‘I would have, only I just wondered how the probate was going.’ Cosmo recalls how they used jam in a play at school once for blood. He stifles a snigger.
‘I told you, you cannot rush these things, they take time. Talking of things taking time, is this all the post there is? I am expecting something. There’s nothing left in your sack, or back at home, is there?’
‘No!’ It is the most Cosmo can manage, all mirth gone.
‘Well, after seeing those letters to Maria …’ Babis pauses, his chin in the air, looking down his nose at Cosmo. ‘I trust they were nothing important?’
He pauses again, taking a bite of the jam-laden toast. Cosmo can smell coffee boiling.
‘But I was right to pay her a visit, it seems,’ Babis concludes.
‘What?’ Cosmo feels a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, and a picture of the letters still sitting on his shelf looms clear in his mind. He tries to compose himself but he cannot release the tension that has sprung into his neck. He clenches at one hand with the other, twisting his fingers.
‘Pay her a visit. It turns out that I was right – she doesn’t have a will. And then things took a very curious turn.’
Babis talks as if everything is a joke, or at least it seems to amuse him. Cosmo cannot tell if what he is saying is real or a joke. The armpits of his shirt become wet. He should have just posted Babis’s letters through the box. Nothing could be worse than Babis telling Maria that Cosmo is withholding her letters.
‘You would be fascinated to hear who she has left all her worldly goods to, just fascinated.’ Babis chews, his lips smacking.
Cosmo feels thrown. Isn’t Babis talking about the letters now? It seems not. He needs to answer … What should his response be?
‘Just fascinated to hear,’ Babis repeats.
‘Who?’ Cosmo parrots.
‘Ah, now that would be telling and, well, client confidentiality I’m afraid. I cannot possibly tell, but you would be fascinated to know. As I was!’
Babis nods his head sagely and then, having finished his toast, sucks the jam off his thumbs and fingers.
Is Babis trying to tease him or taunt him with his talk of letters and wills, or is this just the way he talks? It’s hard to tell.
‘What has whoever Maria makes her will out to got to do with me?’ Cosmo says. It seems like a solid defence, a roundabout way of telling Babis he does not care to know about her business.
‘Ah.’ Babis wags his finger at him. ‘It is a small village, every action we take makes only a small ripple at the start but sometimes these turn into waves that can spread to distant shores …’
Cosmo shifts from one foot to the other. He can sense that Babis is poking fun at him, but he cannot tell what the joke is.
‘Well, I have a fence to fix,’ he says.
He would like to say more about the probate, but he is desperate to get away now. It is uncomfortable listening to Babis talk about Maria, not just because he knows about the letter, but because – well, it just is.
He turns to leave, climbs on his bike and readies himself to kick the stand up, but his stomach is in knots. He needs to know what is being done about probate or he will just feel that Babis has played a trick on him, charging a monthly fee for nothing. He leaves the stand and dismounts from his bike.
‘Oh, have you found that you had some more letters for me tucked away somewhere?’ Babis puts his hand out to receive them.
‘No. I want to know what you have done about probate.’
‘I thought we talked about this already. Why the rush?’
‘Because I am paying.’ He can feel heat rising in his neck.
‘I see. So you want a detailed account of current progress? That will cost extra.’
‘I don’t want any letter, I just want you to tell me. What exactly have you done?’
‘So far?’
‘How could it be anything else?’
It is Babis’s turn to colour, just slightly, and Cosmo gains some confidence from this.
‘I have conducted the title searches t
o ensure there is no charge against the land and you will be glad to know that there is not. There was still a last payment to be made on the fans but that cannot be dealt with until I have worked through things with your mama’s accountant, to see what was owing at the point of death.’
Cosmo gulps. The last payment on the fans? He has never thought about how they were paid for, and if she owes taxes does he also become responsible for that? He has never been in debt in his life, apart from when he bought his bike, but the payments for that only lasted four months. He shouldn’t have asked, he just shouldn’t have asked.
‘I bet you wish you hadn’t asked now, don’t you?’ Babis smirks, and Cosmo bites his tongue.
To distract himself from the thought of probate and what it will cost, and because he wants to show Babis that he is conscientious, he conducts one last search of the various pockets in his bag for any envelopes he might have missed. Babis closes the door on him and Cosmo breathes a sigh of relief – just as he finds a letter he has missed. He hopes with all his heart that it is not for Babis. No – it is for Irini, Marina’s daughter-in-law. He lets out an audible sigh of relief.
‘Malaka.’ Cosmo hisses the word quietly towards Babis’s front door, kick-starts his bike and drives it very fast indeed for the few seconds it takes to cross the square to the corner shop.
He loves the shop, always has done, ever since Marina opened it when she was just twenty-nine. He knows how old she was because they are the same age. It felt at the time like their paths collided for a moment. Marina’s husband had just died and his baba had just passed away. But whereas he has just plodded on in his same way all these years, Marina proved – and is still proving – that it is possible to grow wings following such an event. It gave him the hope to think that he too could change his life’s path. With his baba gone, he had thought he could stop being the one who had to pacify his mama, maybe even move out. Those few glorious days when he thought life might be whatever he wanted it to be …
