No Forgiveness

by Helen Nickolson

  Shortly after they left she had a visit from Father Kosta. “My dear child, what is all this that I hear? Giorgo and your in-laws came to see me and told me that you had placed a curse on him. Of course, I instructed them how to conduct their lives and prayed to lift the curse from him. I have faith that they will now become true Christians.

  “My concern, however, is no longer about them but about you. You have always been a sweet creature unwilling to hurt anyone. What has happened to alter you so much and to allow you to so dangerously associate with the devil? The devil is at the bottom of all curses and you, Katerina, know that very well.”

  Although she no longer had faith in the Church, she still respected Father Kosta enough to feel compelled to give an explanation of what had occurred between Ophelia and herself and Giorgo and herself. She stoically and thoroughly went over all the details and saw tears in the priest’s eyes. Naturally, being a village priest, he had heard quite a bit of the local gossip about the horrible turn her life had taken, but he hadn’t heard the gritty, almost unbelievable facts. His heart ached for her.

  “My child, you should have come to me. I baptized you and have known you all your life. You are like my own daughter and I would have done everything in my power to help you, both as a man and as a priest. How much your dear mother must have also suffered! Please don’t turn away from the Church now. I know that it is hard to maintain your faith with all you’ve experienced, but it is critical that you keep your faith in God. He is the only one who can save you. Do not have anything to do with the devil for that will lead to your destruction. Let us pray. Would you pray with me now?

  “No Father, I no longer pray. I have lost my soul, my way, and my heart. I no longer care that I am a wretched creature. I will live my days sorrowfully and accept that as my lot for the rest of my life.”

  “My child, my child. Don’t despair. Just know that I will always be here to help you when you are ready to accept help. God’s house and compassion are open to you.”

  Very distressed, he left her and went back to the Church to pray for her soul.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Katerina knew Ophelia’s and Michael’s schedules well. She had asked her mother if Ophelia ever went by to see her and was surprised to hear that Ophelia stopped by on a regular basis—once or twice a week. She probably wanted to be closer to her mother now that she was pregnant. She was expecting the baby around the middle of July and was becoming nervous since she had only a month to go.

  “Mama,” Katerina said. “What does she do all day? I might want to see her sometime and want to know what her schedule is like. I don’t know that I could really stand to be near her yet, but just in case.”

  Kyria Maria was glad to think that Katerina might be able to forgive Ophelia at some point. She had only two daughters in her life and hoped that someday they would be able to reconcile their differences.

  “On Sundays she and Michael go to church and then she usually goes home to prepare dinner. That is probably her lightest day when she rests quite a bit. On Mondays, she leaves the house around 9:00 AM to do whatever shopping she needs and to take care of any other tasks at the marketplace. She’s usually home by noon to prepare lunch for Michael and then she stays home to clean or iron or do whatever needs to be done in the house. Sometimes she goes for a walk in the early evening or goes to visit a neighbor for a few hours. The rest of the week follows pretty much the same pattern except that she and Michael usually go into Kymi on Saturdays. They both love to look at the waters of the Aegean, and it’s so convenient that Kymi is such a short distance from our village. There they have coffee, walk around, take care of any official business they may have, and shop for the week in larger quantities.”

  “I see. She has stepped into the role of wife very well.”

  “Yes, she has. I’m not really astounded or anything like that since she loves Michael so much. For once in her life, she truly seems happy. I know how she hurt you, but I can’t help feeling glad that she’s no longer brooding aimlessly.”

  “That’s all right Mama,” Katerina replied evenly. “She is also your daughter and I’m sure you love her. How can a mother not feel glad to see her child content? I don’t blame you for caring for Ophelia. I just don’t think I will ever be able to do so again.”

  “I understand how you feel. This past year has been difficult for all of us, but it has been especially horrendous for you.”

  “Mama, how do you think Michael feels? Does he seem happy to you? Do you think he now loves Ophelia?”

  “I think he went through a rough period in the beginning of their marriage, but I think he has adjusted. He treats Ophelia well and I’m sure he’s looking forward to the birth of their child. He is a good and kind man. I had mixed feelings after we went to his house last September and I must say that I lost a great deal of respect for him. The right thing would have been for him to marry you, and I think he acted cowardly to reject you.

  “At the same time, I have seen him struggle to make his marriage with Ophelia a good one, and I think he is a good family man. You ask me if he’s happy and I can’t give you an answer. I think he is doing the best he can to be happy.”

  “Does he still have political ambitions? I wonder because I know that he wanted to become mayor of Ano Kourouni.” Katerina asked.

  “Deep down I think he still is ambitious and wants to have more say in governing the town. I’m sure he has put those goals aside for now since they’re expecting the baby. He doesn’t seem as energetic as before, so perhaps he is rethinking his purpose in life. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, it’s just curiosity. I haven’t seen either of them for a long time and I’m just wondering.”

  “Well, let’s forget them for now and let’s talk about you. How are Giorgo and his parents treating you? Have they followed through in their newfound love of Christ? I heard that they’ve helped some neighbors who had money problems and I was shocked. Perhaps they are sincere in wanting to transform themselves.”

  Katerina, looking bored with the topic, replied: “They stay away from me as much as possible. If they have to face me, they greet me politely and formally, but I rarely greet them in turn. I don’t want to see their faces, but sometimes I’m stuck. They usually go quickly into the house if they know I’m about.”

  “Has Giorgo ever attempted to touch you again?”

  “No. He is obviously afraid of me. He becomes a little shaky if I look him directly in the eyes. What an imbecile he is! It amazes me when I now remember the times I was terrified of him. I should have taught him a lesson much sooner, but we all develop from lessons we have learned in life.”

  Kyria Maria was a little disturbed to hear Katerina speak so casually and indifferently about her life. Katerina didn’t seem to want to do much with her future other than to make Giorgo and his family uncomfortable. That was very reason-able considering what she had gone through, but Kyria Maria would have preferred a response showing that Katerina was engaged in some goal, any goal, as part of her life. She was so young and seemed so jaded. It didn’t seem mentally healthy for her to be so physically close to Giorgo and his family.

  “Have you thought of perhaps opening a little business from your home?” the mother asked. “You always had a special skill with crocheting and weaving, and I know that many women would buy products from you. You do such beautiful handiwork and you could do those things at home. There are a couple of little shops in Kymi that would love to showcase and sell your products.”

  “I’m not really interested in that right now. With what Giorgo gives me weekly, I have plenty to live on. But I’ll think about your idea. I do get a little bored at times and staying by myself so much may not be the best. Mama, you know what you haven’t done in a long time is to read my coffee cup. We both know it’s only for fun. Look, I’ll make the coffee if you look at my cup.”

  Kyria Maria didn’t want to read the cup, but she wanted to keep Katerina around a little longer so she said she
would.

  Katerina made coffee for both of them in the briki, the small copper container that could hold enough liquid for two demitasse cups. She mixed two heaping teaspoons of finely ground coffee with two level teaspoons of sugar and water. She brought the liquid to a boil and poured some froth into each cup. She then brought the remaining liquid to a boil for the second time and filled the cups. Plenty of froth showed at the top, which was as it should, and Katerina was pleased she had done a good job with the coffee. As was customary, she filled two glasses with water and placed them on the table with the coffee.

  They sat across from each restfully and sipped slowly from the cups so as not to burn their tongues. The coffee was delicious as usual and Katerina made quite a production out of swirling the dregs at the bottom of her cup and then quickly turning the cup over so that it would dry and develop a design. This design is what her mother would read for her.

  The dregs dried within a couple of minutes and Katerina handed the cup to her mother. “Let’s see Mama if you can tell me anything more creative than you usually do. You know, I’ve gotten tired of hearing the same fortune for the last eight years. Please don’t tell me again that I will receive a letter, that I will get some extra money, that I will sit at a table with people, that someone is gossiping about me, that someone loves me, and that I will take a short trip somewhere.”

  Her mother laughed and said, “Oh, so you caught on to my little game. I’ll give you a slightly enhanced version this time.” She studied the cup deeply and kept moving it around as if she needed to look more carefully, as if she didn’t trust what she saw.

  “Come on Mama. I’m patient but I don’t think you need to look all day at a silly cup. Just tell me what you see. Start off with the letter and extra money if you want.”

  “Unfortunately, although I’d like to start off with the customary letter and extra money, I’m concerned with what I see here. This cup has a bad aura to it. I see meanness and revenge and more suffering. Hasn’t this family gone through enough? What I see happening in this cup should never occur. I see betrayal by a husband to his wife, and shame, guilt, and regret. Why in the world this is appearing in your cup, I don’t know. Look here and see the forked journey available and the consequences to each choice. It appears that the darker lines will be the chosen path and this will lead to ruin. The person or persons who are making the choice are aware they have two options, and they are going with the darker alternative of the two. God help them and us all. Katerina, what does this have to do with you? Are you involved in something unorthodox?”

  “I wish I hadn’t asked you to read my cup. I’ve brought you anxiety without meaning to. I don’t know how, or if, I’m involved in this prediction. If my husband is with one, or numerous, other women, I don’t consider it a betrayal. He may be with as many women as he wants. I neither care nor want to know.”

  “If it’s not about your husband, then it must be about Michael. I can’t imagine that he would have an affair at a time like this. Ophelia is close to giving birth and it would destroy her if he is being unfaithful. You may not believe this, but there are many women in our parts who easily play on the side with men other than their husbands. I was appalled when I first became aware of this, but I now take it as a fact of life and don’t pay much attention. Oh, let’s forget this wretched cup and pretend there is nothing there. Better yet, let’s sing a happy song together before you leave.”

  They sang a lively number about love lasting forever, lovers missing each other, pledging to always be together, the hurdles each of the two would be willing to overcome for each other’s sake, and the union of their bodies and souls. The song was a bit overly dramatic, but most Greek songs were. What they as a people and culture rarely detected in daily life, they romanticized and put into song. After all, happiness had to be found somewhere and music was an aphrodisiac in its own right.

  Walking home, Katerina pondered the words her mother had spoken upon reading the cup. She was in such deep thought that she barely noticed Michael walking toward her, and she was startled into the present by his greeting: “Good evening Katerina. You look lost in another world. Of course, you look beautiful as always, but you don’t need me to tell you that.”

  “No Michael,” she retorted, “I don’t need you of all people to speak to me that way. You are a married man and should be careful how you address women. If I were your wife, which I’m not, I would be offended to hear you say such things to others.”

  “I know you’re right and ask that you excuse my carelessness in speaking so boldly to you. You are not my wife although you should have been. I am married to your sister but still have feelings for you. I say this and am ashamed that I say such things with my wife about ready to have our child. I have things, however, that I must get out of my system. If I can get these things out of my system, I may be able to better steer my life and my future. Katerina, I need to talk to you. Please hear me out. Please come out to the north field tomorrow where I will be working so we can talk at length and privately. You know which field I’m talking about—the one by the stream with trees that provide shade. I will go home for lunch and will return there at 1:00 to finish cultivating.”

  Quite astounded by his declaration, she really didn’t know how to respond other than to say, “I will have to think about this. If I decide to join you, I will be there by 2:00. I have to say that I’m confused by your sudden urgency to talk with me. But, I’m also curious to hear what you have to say, so I will probably be there.”

  “I have much to say to you and more to say to myself,” he said wryly. “I’m not even sure what my words will be, but we both need to put an ending to what has happened between you and me, and between you, Ophelia, and myself. We will be crossing paths until we die and we can’t postpone this conversation forever. This has been eating at me for almost a year now and I need some peace. I trust you need that peace also.”

  “Yes Michael, I need that conclusion also. I don’t want to think of you any longer. I don’t want to get images of you and Ophelia together. I want to erase you from my heart and thoughts and will do almost anything to accomplish that. God help me, I need peace also,” and she smiled as if mocking herself.

  “Then, it’s decided. We will meet tomorrow in the north field around 2:00. You can stay in the shade by the river until I come to drink water. If anyone happens to come by, he won’t be able to see you because of the thick foliage. We do, after all, have to be careful.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Katerina scoffed at herself the next morning as she was getting ready to meet Michael. She was taking so much care in her appearance to meet a married man. Why? He wasn’t and couldn’t be her lover. He was her sister’s husband and about to become a father. Still, she twisted her hair carefully and made sure that her dress fit smoothly.

  It took her about half an hour to reach the north field by the stream. It was a short distance out of the village and she walked leisurely thinking the whole time that she really shouldn’t be doing this. “You are a fool,” she muttered over and over to herself. “Do you really think this will accomplish something? Well, maybe it will. If this puts closure to our relationship, it is worth it. If nothing else, Michael needs to explain himself to me and I can listen. Maybe hearing what he has to say will help finish this infatuation for me too.”

  Although she had nothing to hide, she tried to not be seen as she walked through the village. She didn’t need to be questioned or to have people talk about her. She didn’t want to lie about where she was going and thought it best to hide whenever she saw anyone approaching. Out on the road she stayed to the side and was able to hide behind bushes whenever she heard human feet or animals close by. There were shepherds around here and you never knew when one might be taking a flock of sheep from one field to another.

  She reached the north field and sat on a large rock by the stream. She was hidden from anyone’s view and felt relief that the thick foliage hid her so well. She took off he
r shoes and dangled her feet in the cool water that swiftly ran from the rocks above to the community well a couple of kilometers below. She could vaguely discern shapes of women at the well as they came to fill their buckets with water to take home. She saw some taking longer than others and could imagine the conversations they were having about fellow neighbors, illness, childbirth, and related topics. She was glad she couldn’t overhear what they were saying since her name was likely part of numerous conversations.

  Ever since she had turned the tables on Giorgo and forced him out of the house, her name had been on many tongues and a lot of what was said was not favorable to her: “Can you believe that she actually made him turn over the house to her? What kind of behavior is that for a woman? She should be ashamed of herself! And to think, she refuses to have him in the house and be a wife to him. I don’t know what the world is coming to.”

  Others, however, saw the justice in what had happened to Giorgo and defended her: “That poor girl. What the ruffian Giorgo did to her was abominable and he deserves every amount of bad luck that comes his way. We now know that he raped her brutally before marrying her and that he continued raping her after the marriage. How fierce and pitiless his assaults must have been. She lost the baby because of him, and, she, herself, almost died. If her mother and Yiayia hadn’t taken care of her, she definitely would have died.”

  “Yes,” someone added in her defense. “Not only did she almost die, but she will never be able to have children. How would any of us feel if we were in that situation? I, for one, feel great pity for Katerina and can’t condemn her. I only wish that she had maintained her faith in the Church and God, but I’m not in her shoes and don’t know how I would react.”