The Eagle of Spinalonga

by Nike Azoros

  ‘Okay sister, you rest.’ He nestled into a corner and took a slug of water from his flask so as to rinse the tang of the leper’s fingers out of his mouth. He pulled out the cheese pie he had managed to hide in his pocket and ate as the thoughts of how to improve things slowly became bigger than the thoughts of how bad things were. Sleep did not come easy. He was cold, he was uncomfortable and all through the night there was the cacophony of wretched moans and groans of suffering.

  The morning was clear, crisp and most important of all, it was quiet. It was the perfect time for Nikos to take a slow walk around the town. There were many houses, all in appalling condition, there were also several buildings that had looked as if they had once been shops and other commercial outlets, there was even a large communal laundry. Nikos absorbed it all in ever mounting outrage that this was where his country sent some of its sickest people with the most needs to a place that grew nothing and had nothing and had barely a decent roof to shelter them.

  The town had a medieval appearance and had basic infrastructure in that there were paved streets and a town square. There was no electricity but the small town square had a simple fountain with a basic hand pump that worked. At least there was a source of water.

  He bent over to take a drink but someone pushed him out of the way.

  ‘What’s your rush? Do you think I am going to drink it all? Here,’ Nikos stepped back. ‘It’s all yours sir.’ He recognized him as one of the helpers that were with Maria when she met him at Dante’s Gate.

  ‘Sir, no one has called me sir for..I don’t think anyone had ever called me sir. I am sorry about pushing you but here it is dog eat dog. I am Ikaros, builder of Heraklion.’

  ‘Nikos, lawyer of Lasithi.’ The men shook hands. Ikaros looked anywhere between twenty and fifty. His face was swollen on one side and red blotches covered his neck. ‘So Ikaros tell me why is it, when we are all united in our disease, there is fighting with each other for crumbs of food?’

  ‘When you are hungry you don’t know what you are doing. But Nikos, they send criminals here, it is a cheap jail. Some of the other residents are evil, twice cursed.’ Nikos nodded solemnly at Ikaros to indicate that he understood the seriousness of the situation. ‘I see, well Ikaros I need to walk around to get to know the place.’

  ‘I’ll come too.’

  ‘Not for this first time please.’

  ‘Okay, but if you see any lizards smash their heads with a rock and bring them back with you.’

  ‘Why would I do that?’

  ‘Why do you think I would want a dead lizard, for an ornament in my living room? To eat of course! Once they are grilled they taste like chicken.’

  Nikos only got lost once, the streets of Spinalonga were coiled like a serpent but he quickly found his bearings. He intended to know how to find his way around the place with his eyes closed anyway. His biggest fear was that he would lose his sight too soon.

  Buildings tell a story. The ruins of Spinalonga town told the story that they were once functional and handsome structures but without care and attention were now sad and decaying, exactly like the inhabitants.

  He heard ‘Welcome but not well come,’ from everyone he encountered as he walked around. He acknowledged every single greeting and introduced himself to everyone he came across. A couple walked towards him. He, clearly a leper from the telltale signs of patches of hard skin and his downwards drooping mouth, one of his feet was wrapped in rags from which came a putrid stench that not even the crisp sea air was able to mask. She looked normal, she looked more than normal, and she was beautiful.

  ‘Good day to you, I am Nikos.’

  ‘Welcome but not well come, I am Kimon this is my wife Eva.’

  ‘Kimon your foot is in a bad way, how do you disinfect it? What medicines do you have?’

  ‘We have none Nikos, my husband suffers as do all the others here.’

  ‘All the others? You did not include yourself?’

  ‘I don’t think I am infected yet. When Kimon got sick we had been married only forty days. He is my love, my life. I did not want to be without him and I knew he would need someone to care for him. I cut him with my knife, I made him bleed and then I cut myself and rubbed his blood into my wound so I too would become leprous, but it didn’t happen. I stayed healthy.’ Her eyes took on a cheeky sparkle and she burst into a conspiratorial smile, ‘But the authorities don’t know that and they were not going to check were they?’

  ‘Eva, you are a saint.’

  ‘No, I am a woman, who loves her man.’ She turned to tend to Kimon who was struggling to stand and as she did she spoke to Nikos, ‘The illness makes life difficult but even worse is these inhumane conditions. You are a man of the law I heard.’

  ‘Yes, I am a lawyer.’

  ‘We are not happy with no law and no rules. Our ancient ancestors knew that a well run city creates happy citizens. The world still learns from them, why don’t we? Bring the law to Spinalonga Nikos, make the citizens of Spinalonga happy. But first of all, we need food. People with a full belly are always happy.’

  He wished them farewell and walked back to find Maria, the words of Eva were echoing in his head as he tried to focus his thoughts on how to bring food and law to Spinalonga. If food and law were present health would improve too. Everything would improve. It got dark quickly and with no power to provide light he could not read the books he had wanted to read so he used the time to think and plan. He propped himself up against a rough wall and tried to stop the shaking that had gripped him. What pleased him greatly was that he was not shaking with fear but with rage at the appalling conditions. He was pleased because he knew himself and he knew that such a rage brought action. He fell asleep trying to think of ways to get food.

  When he woke a man was standing over him. Nikos had noticed most of the lepers, including his sister, had no light in their eyes. Leprosy attacked the eyes and blindness was common. The eyes of lepers were dull and glazed over as if the eyes died before the rest of the body was dead. But not this man, his eyes blazed.

  ‘Welcome but not well come.’ He hissed the traditional Spinalonga greeting. The ugly great leper draped himself across the doorway of the dwelling as if he owned it. Nikos got up, went over to the great lump and extended his hand out to him, ‘How do you do, Nikos Lambrakis.’

  ‘I know who you are city boy,’ he did not accept his hand but Nikos kept it held out. He stood there smiling a non threatening half smile and with his hand held out for at least a minute. Pavlos sighed and shook the man’s hand just to get him out of the way. He pushed past Nikos to get into the room.

  ‘What have you got in your bags pretty boy? Got anything nice for Pavlos?’ Nikos, however, was intent on staying on a civil path.

  ‘Kali mera Pavlos, it’s good to meet you, how are you this morning?’

  ‘Save the small town pleasantries for the newcomers who think they are here on a day trip.’ He crouched down and started rummaging in Nikos’s bags, ‘Now let’s have a look at what I can have. I know the food is all gone, that cheese pie I had last night was very tasty, haven’t had one of those for years.’ Nikos crouched down with him. ‘I have books.’ Nikos picked one up, opened it and held it out for him to see but Pavlos knocked it out of his hand. ‘I can’t eat books. I can’t wear books. What else have you got?’

  ‘I have nothing but books.’

  ‘Then I’ll have to help myself to something else then won’t I? Maybe your sister, but maybe I already have hey pretty boy? She was a cute thing when she first came here, she’ll go quickly you know. Small ones like her give up too easily.’ Pavlos did a little jump to brace into fighter stance, he squared his shoulders and brought his hands up in front his face into formed fists but Nikos stood steady. He recognized such behavior, the brute was trying to provoke him into a fist fight because he knew his strengths were there, but Nikos stuck to his own strengths. He held out one of his books, ‘Go on read a book, it will do you good.’ Pavlos wavered and broke h
is stance, ‘Bah! Read your own books.’ He rushed out of the house.

  Hmm, he left in a hurry Nikos thought to himself. From the way Pavlos ran off Nikos ascertained either the man’s eyes are too weak and he doesn’t want to reveal his weakness, or he can’t read. He put his book back into his bag as Maria appeared with a cup of tea and a piece of bread for him, which he took gratefully. ‘Thank you sister. Where did you get these from?’ he asked as he kissed her forehead.

  ‘I made the bread. We get basic supplies brought over by the boatman, some flour, a little oil, maybe some onions. It is nowhere near enough but I make tea from the wild herbs that grow here and Eva helps us knead bread whenever we can get flour. Food is our biggest problem after no medical care brother. There isn’t enough. We fear starvation more than we fear our illness.’

  Nikos shook his head. ‘It is intolerable that our country has allowed this situation. The fear of the disease is understandable but to turn Spinalonga into a scrap heap is a national disgrace.’

  ‘There are not just Hellenes here brother. Spinalonga, the boatman says, has become the largest leper colony in Europe. Other countries send their worst cases here.’

  ‘Then it is an international disgrace. I will commence writing letters to the government.’

  ‘It is of no use brother.’

  ‘Why Maria, you seem to think it is impossible?’

  ‘It is. We are not even permitted to handle money in case it gets into the hands of someone healthy and they catch the leprosy.’

  ‘Leprosy cannot be caught by handling money. What is wrong with the world that they allow ignorance to blind them to the truth? In court it is no defense yet in this case it is used to ruin people’s lives. Sister I just met a woman who virtually injected herself with her husband’s leprous blood and still she did not fall ill.’

  ‘Yes I know about Eva. She is beautiful to risk death rather than risk losing love. But, Nikos one of the others told us that before they sent him here he was in a hospital and they put everything he touched into a special oven to cook the germs away. We have nothing like that here so we can have nothing.’

  Nikos knew it was time to start putting his plan into action. ‘Maria, tell me, have you all ever had any meetings to discuss ways to work together?’

  ‘No, never. Some of us talk but there are some very evil people here too, like Pavlos. But we need food first brother. If we are fed we will be stronger and will have more hope.’

  The siblings stood at the edge of Spinalonga lost in their thoughts until they were distracted by a large golden eagle and watched in studied silence as it hovered above them. It hung suspended in the air for a moment then dived down into the sea like a bullet and flew up again with a large fish dangling from its claws. Maria had turned and was already walking away but Nikos stood mesmerized. The sight of the hunting bird at work reminded him of his old friend Alikhan.

  Chapter 3: The Call of Manoussos

  For the second time in his life Father Manoussos was experiencing the relentless harassment of the Call. The first time had been 25 years ago when his family’s next door neighbors had tried to arrange a marriage between him and their daughter. Their mothers had been very pleased with the prospect of the marriage and had even begun calling each other Simpethera. Other neighbors had tut-tutted when they had heard the mother of the girl call Manoussos’s mother her in-law for the first time.

  ‘Don’t you know it is bad luck to pre-empt such a mystery.’

  ‘Zut kalé, I saw it in the coffee cup nice and clear. Two wedding rings formed in the grounds at the bottom of the cup. It is surely a sign.’ But the girl concerned knew something was not right. She would make sweet eyes at him but Manoussos would only smile nervously at her then find an excuse to either run home to help with chores or off to church for altar boy duties. The other girls of the village would giggle their stories of how some of the boys would try to sneak a kiss or sneak a peep at their garters then try to put their hands up higher. They would walk to the ruins of the ancient town where the wall art of Priapos and his giant phallus made them all fall over laughing. They would screech with mock outrage when the boys wanted to show the girls how to show respect for the deity through phallic worship.

  When Manoussos and his girl went there all he would do was instruct her that Priapos was also the god of merchant sailors, very appropriate for a land like Crete. He never tried to fondle her breasts and the only kissing that ever took place were chaste pecks on the cheek after escorting her home from church.

  One day she pouted at him, ‘Don’t you think I’m pretty?’

  ‘Oh yes, you are so pretty. I think you are too pretty for any life that I might be able to give you.’

  ‘Why do you say that? We could have a good life. Between both our families we have many animals and your father has two good boats. We will live well and be able to go to Athens to hear operas and our children will go to school and learn words and numbers.’ As she spoke she took his hand in hers then placed his hand on her knee. Manoussos removed his hand from her knee and sighed as if he was giving up the ghost. ‘Very well, the time has come.’ He stood up before her and held out his hands for her to stand with him. ‘The time has come. I can be silent no more. I must tell you what is in my heart. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can only think of one thing.’

  She jumped up so high her braids whipped her face. ‘Say no more Manoussos, let us do this properly. My father is sure to be home, you can ask him now.’ She grabbed his hand and started to run home.

  ‘Wait. Why do I need to see your father? It is mine I need to see to explain to him that I can no longer help him with the catches.’

  ‘We can see them both together, I’ll go get them right now,’ she called out as she ran ahead. The young woman knew the correct thing to do was for Manoussos to arrange for a visit to be made to the bride’s home. He should attend with a mini entourage to denote he had a strong and supportive family, on his right hand side would sit the man who would stand next to him in church so the parents of the bride could see what a fine young man was the godfather of their future grandchildren but according to her there was no need to do all the standard rituals. The families knew each other so well they had been speaking of the two as a couple since they were babes, even now as she neared their houses she could see their mothers sitting on the veranda chatting over their embroidery and their fathers working on straightening the posts on their shared fence. One quipped, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’

  ‘Manoussos wants to see us! He said there is something that he must tell us because it can wait no longer.’ She was squealing so loudly with delight her mother had to drag her down to sit next to her. ‘Stop talking now and put your head down,’ her mother scolded. The girl obeyed, she was prepared to play along in the role of the reluctant bride for a few moments. It would all be over and she could finally take her place with the other betrothed girls of the village and choose her embroidery patterns and start making her own trousseau not just work on those of the other girls. She lowered her gaze demurely which also served to disguise her eager smile as Manoussos walked through the front gate and approached his parents, ‘Baba, may I speak with you and Mama in private?’

  It didn’t take long, he was direct and both his parents knew their son. They knew the countless hours he spent in prayer when the other boys were organising hunting trips. They were aware the young couples of the town would go to the ancient ruins and jest about Priapos, they knew because they had done so themselves, but their boy preferred to serve in the altar.

  They knew their boy was born to be a priest. They had always known but tried at first to simply believe he was a very God loving soul who would live a quiet life.

  ‘If you don’t let me go I am sure I will die.’

  His parents looked at each other in fear. They knew it was no use to try and convince him to marry the girl. They had heard stories of parents who had tried to stop their child either going to a nunnery or monastery and
none of them had ended well. Once God has chosen a person it is done. To even attempt to dissuade him would be to offend God. The mother embraced her son in support while the father nodded his understanding of the situation then he went outside to tell the neighbors the news.

  The girl’s sobs could still be heard the next day but it was her mother who was more understanding as she sipped coffee with the mother of Manoussos.

  ‘When a man gets the Call it is a blessing. He has heard the voice of God, be happy.’

  ‘Your poor girl is still blubbering like the town fountain, her heart is broken.’

  ‘She will be just fine when the son of the Mayor comes calling tomorrow, as soon as the news got out his mother came to see me to request if we would be agreeable to a family visit soon. I’ve seen the way that boy always looks at her during the volta, there might still be a betrothal in this family before the winter.’

  ‘It’s going to be quiet around here with your girl wed and my boy in the monastery.’

  ‘Not for long. If my daughter takes after me I will have a grandchild by next Easter. At least now we have someone to pray for us.’ The two women got up from their chairs. Work was waiting.

  That first Call had been the easy one. Manoussos had been young and eager to begin his ecclesiastical life. This second Call was eating him alive as the leprosy would soon be doing to Nikos. Just as with the first Calling, his sleep was broken, his appetite gone and it was impossible to focus his thoughts. He became so sleep deprived he had to start using the books as prompts for the services. Manoussos had become famous throughout the Lasithi prefecture for being the most devoted priest and for knowing all the liturgies so thoroughly he never needed even to glance at the books. He only held them in his hands out of tradition. He had lost his place several times and had needed to start over again. The people noticed. He even stumbled over the Nicene Creed, even the Sunday schoolers knew that one. At one baptism he almost dropped the baby during the immersion part of the ceremony. At the last wedding he performed he kept mentioning the name of the best man instead of the groom during the ceremony until the mother of the bride yelled out, ‘Pater, wake up!’