The Eagle of Spinalonga

by Nike Azoros

  It took his father six weeks to die. The snows had just melted enough for a carriage to come and take Andonis and his mother to the train station so they could leave forever. His mother spat on everyone as they drove away and screamed at them calling them emotionless murderers and cursed them all to an agonising death. She pointed at the mayor as they drove past him and called out that she would pray every day that he die squealing like a pig.

  Every member of that village went to the church that night to light a candle for protection. One months later when the mayor of the village toppled over one of his bee hives and was stung so many times that his final breath was a squeal of agony, every one of them would wear the mati, the blue eye, for the rest of their days to try to ward off the bitter curses laid upon them by the widow Kontos. Neither she nor Andonis ever returned to the village and neither ever developed leprosy but every day for the rest of their lives they would be haunted by the hollow voice of Kontos begging for a sip of water. Nothing would ever wipe it from the memory of Andonis even when he achieved great things for his country through a lifetime of service. Eventually he would come to hold the powerful position of Minister for Health.

  A knock on his door snapped him out of the focus he was in for reading the monthly reports.

  ‘Minister Kontos.’

  ‘Come in Thanos, what is it that I can do for you?’ The minister was very fond of the young new recruit. The boy had brains and a good work ethic.

  ‘I have your mail and I especially want you to read this one first.’ The minister was startled but the boy’s attitude indicated the importance of the letter. ‘Thanos, the normal procedure is to check with me whether I am available to do such things.’

  ‘Minister, I beg your pardon but you asked me not to hesitate to ask for assistance with anything. Were they empty words? The assistance I need is for you to read this letter.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. Well give me the letter then.’ The minister developed instant respect for the young man and Thanos had no way of knowing the tragic story of the father of Andonis Kontos. Even so he could see the letter had moved the Minister so deeply, he was sitting and trying not to weep. The new junior clerk had recognized the writing before he even read a word. It was the steady, solid script of Nikos Lambrakis, the man who had taught him to read.

  The letter of Nikos Lambrakis started off as many of the other ones did, as a request for the urgent attention of the minister. This was not just another letter outlining a case of hardship. The words of Nikos were equal to each of the moans of the dying father of Andonis. His mother safe in her comfortable room in his little villa in Phaleron was still unable to sleep at nights. By the time he finished reading it his throat was so dry he had to have a glass of water.

  ‘Minister Kontos, what do you know about this terrible disease?’

  ‘Nothing!’ He said, and then stopped. He had blurted it out from the bitter experience of being forced to keep quiet about his suffering for people did not care about what you have endured, they only care that they are not made to endure the same. He had prayed silently for this moment for all these years, to be given the opportunity to relieve other families from such unjust suffering and now that moment had come.

  ‘I shall leave Sir and come back at another time.’

  ‘No. Sit here and tell me what you know about Nikos Lambrakis.’

  ‘Nikos Lambrakis improved my life, I have always prayed for the time to come to improve his. It is because of him I stand before you today instead of herding goats. There is so much to tell and yet so little to say because simply, for me, there is no finer man in the entire world.’

  ‘Well then Thanos, the time you have prayed for has come. I shall have to see for myself how fine a man he is. I am going to Spinalonga and you are coming too.’

  Up high on Spinalonga not long after he had released Artemis to free flight Nikos had looked over the edge and watched Manoussos give the letter to the boatman. He slumped a little and put his hands in his pockets and thought to himself, ‘What if all the work I have done has been for nothing? Artemis is gone and the letter might not get posted. Ah if only the God who abandoned me was able to send me a sign.’

  Nikos Lambrakis surveyed the island he had walked around so many times already. He had discovered that the derelict slums they were living in was built by the Turks and all the tunnels including the one that led from Dante’s Gate were to provide for the harems of the Turks so the women could walk around and not be seen. So the imprisonment of women was now also an imprisonment for men. But other parts of the structure could be made useful again, as long as he could get people to work on it.

  There was a great wash house with rows of large stone troughs. Nikos could see this being made operational again and having laundry facilities so they wouldn’t have to walk around in filthy rags. All he would need was some soap and new clothes.

  He might as well have been wishing for diamonds and pearls but he stayed true to the philosophy of Plato and applied all his focus on maintaining the application of the divine goods of Wisdom, Temperance, Justice and Courage. To keep them in his mind, and everyone else’s, he followed the example of the unknown person who had carved the inscription above Dante’s Gate. He had Ikaros the stone mason pull old nails out of one of the old buildings to use to carve the four names of the divine goods into the stone lintels above the doorways of the main houses opening off the Street of Pain so they could instill some hope back into the hopeless.

  Nikos learned that the island was created by man not nature. The Venetians created it in the 1500’s by digging a channel through the part of the coast that jutted out into the sea to create an island to serve as a defense garrison. It was once a part of Elounda. The locals would say they were headed to Elounda, stin Elounda, but the Italians couldn’t say it correctly and it somehow came out as Spinalonga, long thorn. But it wasn’t long. It was high.

  Nikos was right in his hunch that it was once the site of an acropolis. There were no visible ruins, no graceful columns to recycle to form the chicest of benches, no imposing pediments to slice the sky and lift the eye upwards so the soul follows. Nikos couldn’t see any evidence of the ancient residents of this acropolis but he could feel them. It was something Nikos would often do in spite of the hardships of war and poverty in his country and even before he became ill. He would stand at the sites of ancient cities and sit quietly in the spots where the agoras and forums were and similar places he knew the philosophers would have gathered and discussed matters of logic and wisdom. The energy permeated his mind and would give him a sense of power and calm. He sought that feeling out on Spinalonga and sitting on top of the island he found it, and so had Alikhan.

  ‘You already have what you seek Nikos, read your books and do as they say.’

  Nikos had initially been startled by the sudden apparition of Alikhan, now he was just grateful for the presence. ‘How can I bring Health and Beauty, Strength and Wealth to the sickest, ugliest, weakest, poorest place on Earth?’

  ‘Can a man have an illness and still have Health?’

  ‘No of course not. And there are women here too.’

  Alikhan tutted in annoyance, ‘I do not exclude them from anything. I merely use the masculine form for ease, I can use the feminine if you wish but just know when I say he I mean it for all concerned.’ Nikos nodded his agreement. He knew his friend had adored women, he had died for one, but he had seen so much injustice that he could no longer bear for anyone to be treated as less than anyone else. ‘Let us return to my question, how can even a leper feel Healthy?’ Nikos pondered for a moment, ‘If good hygiene is applied there will definitely be a feeling of well being.’

  ‘And how would one apply good hygiene?’

  ‘It all stems from cleanliness. We need disinfectants. We would require good housing with doors that shut and windows that can close so the dust does not get in and the occupants can feel security?’

  ‘Excellent. Is that all you would do?’

  ‘No
, we need power, there is no light. We need furniture for the houses, beds with mattresses, blankets and clean sheets, tables and chairs and good stoves. If there is good nutritious food the people feel healthy and strong, they will take pride in their appearance not just of themselves but of their homes. They will feel wise and attractive and strong.’

  ‘You had better get to work then. Your plan is good Nikos, don’t give up.’ Manoussos appeared. He had come to sit with him as he often did. Nikos wondered what Manoussos would make of his visits with Alikhan. Where they visits or were they dreams? Whatever they were it was time to share them. ‘Manoussos, I had a friend called Alikhan, I told you about him, the one who was killed. Well I don’t know how to tell you this but he visits me here on Spinalonga. We speak together and he advises me on many things. I know it’s hard to believe.’

  ‘I believe in everything Nikos. Nothing surprises me, yet everything is a mystery.’

  ‘I have another mystery too. Will Artemis return?’

  ‘What did your friend Alikhan say?’

  ‘That my plan is good and not to give up.’

  ‘Your friend travelled a long way to give you that advice, you must heed it.’

  ‘I asked God for a sign you know.’

  ‘I would call a visit from Alikhan a sign, wouldn’t you? Nikos you got your sign. God delivered.’ As usual, Manoussos said it as it was then walked away to get on with his work. Nikos began to walk away too to go back to watching the skies when a large fish fell from the sky, right at his feet. ‘Artemis!’ He instinctively held out his arm for her to land on but it was a touch too late, she knocked him over as she landed on the ground. Was it possible to hug an eagle? Nikos wanted to throw his arms around her and kiss her but instead he stroked her on the back of the head. ‘Keep her happy,’ were the words of Alikhan so Nikos crooned a sweet song to her as he pulled his knife out of his pocket and carved off pieces of fish for her to enjoy.

  The fish was a salmon, at least three kilos of it. It was a good meal for a family but not enough for a starving population. Nikos knew it was too early to celebrate. It was time for more action. He fed Artemis some more pieces of the fish, complimented her again and again in the softest tones and got her to get back onto his wrist. He held his arm up and gave another flick of the wrist and sent her off again and again, each time she returned with a large fish within around thirty minutes. By sunset she had brought him six more large fish and if anyone had been looking at Spinalonga at that moment they would have seen in silhouette against the sinking sun, a man jumping in sheer bliss. ‘You must be tired my precious Artemis. You need your rest. You need your beauty sleep.’ He stayed with her that night. He would take the fish down to the people tomorrow, they would last just fine in the cool air of a Spinalonga evening. Tomorrow he would send her out again in the morning and they would descend together. During the night Nikos had dreamt of what a pleasure it would be to finally be able to introduce Artemis to everyone on Spinalonga and now the time had come. He wanted to ensure he made a good impression. He had to in order to honor Alikhan and Artemis. The fish, all eleven large glossy magnificent specimens, were plopped into the large mesh onion bag that he had taken up with him. He wanted the bounty to be on display. He slung the bag over his shoulder and began his descent to the town square where he knew around now people would be gathering to have their morning coffee together.

  Kimon saw him first. Next was Ikaros who dropped his tin cup and it went bouncing down the Street of Pain but he didn’t go off to chase it, he was mesmerized by the sight of Nikos Lambrakis with a huge eagle on his arm and an impressive catch of fish over his shoulder. ‘I can see you have been fishing but you are coming down from the top of the island. What did you make them do, jump into your hands?’

  ‘Ah my friend, I did not catch them, Artemis did. The only thing I caught, with the help of Manoussos, was Artemis. She was wearing her hood and sat calm and godlike on the arm of her master and right at the moment where a dramatic flourish was required, she gave it. She spread her wings out to such width that half of the square fell into shade. She seemed twice the size of any human on Spinalonga. Kimon crossed himself, Panayia mou, how in the name of God did you ever master such a creature?’ Nikos handed the fish over to the women to cook and they all sat together to share the feast as Nikos told the full story.

  Chapter 12: The Man with the Carbine.

  The man with the carbine was on the boat with the boatman for the next delivery. He had seen what the boatman had loaded up as he loaded his goods on board too. ‘I have to go to Spinalonga first, do you mind?’ ‘Oh...err, ok. But who ordered the food?’

  ‘Nobody, it is the standard weekly supply of food that they get.’ The man looked at the meager supplies. He saw a small bag of onions, maybe five kilos, and one of potatoes. A bag of lentils, a small tin of oil, a bag of flour and a box of apples completed the list. ‘How many people are on there now?’

  ‘Not sure. Maybe fifty or so.’

  ‘Fifty people! And that is all they have to eat for a week?’ The man crossed himself and then crossed himself again when he saw a priest waiting for them on the shore. Manoussos greeted them with a wave then called out to the boatman, ‘Do you have a book for me?’

  ‘No book, no nothing but the supplies today Father.’ And he started unloading the mere handful of bags. The man with the new carbine called out to the priest, ‘Father, there is a resident on the island called Makis. He was once a fine fisherman and a very good singer. We used to serenade the girls together. He is a good man.’

  ‘Yes I know him, he has offered to help to paint the church.’

  ‘Eh that Makis, always helping.’

  Manoussos had to add, ‘He can’t sing anymore.’ The man shook his head in sorrow. He whispered something to the boatman who nodded and then the man suddenly got out of the boat, ‘Father I must make my soul clean.’

  ‘Speak my son,’ Manoussos invited the man to sit with him on the stones of Spinalonga for an impromptu confession.

  ‘My name is Zafiris and I should have been the one to get the cursed disease not my beloved cousin.’ He stopped speaking for a moment when he realized he was on Spinalonga, on the leper island. Manoussos sensed it so he got him back on his original chain of thought. ‘Why do you say it should have been you?’

  ‘I had wanted to get a message to a woman other than my wife so I asked Makis to meet her for me so she could tell him where we could meet. He told me what I was doing was wrong but I pressured him. I told him my wife was cold to me and that I was his blood and blood looks after blood. He did agree to help me, he was always helping me with anything I wanted.

  The woman was waiting high up on the hill near the caves where the lepers once lived before we started sending them to Spinalonga. We didn’t know it but there were some still there, living like animals. One of them, an old man, saw him coming and went to tell him to stay back but he fell and hit his head on a rock and Makis stopped to help him. He got blood all over himself. He had forgotten he had cut his hand on a fish hook the previous day. So there he was all covered with the old leper’s blood that wouldn’t stop pouring over him.

  Makis said, ‘Old man you shouldn’t be here, you should go to the island,’ but the old man got up and ran away saying it was one hundred times better in the caves of the mountains where there were pheasants and wild apples than on that piece of rock where not even weeds would grow. But the old man was blinded by his own blood and slipped backwards and fell down the ravine. Makis sent himself here to this island out of love for his family. Before he left he gave me everything he owned, everything. I was too ashamed to admit that I not only had a leper cousin but that I was the one that caused him to become one.’

  The man was sobbing uncontrollably now but Manoussos knew it would pass and soon the breath of relief would come now that his terrible secret was shared and his conscience was eased. The priest knew people too well.

  ‘Ahh!’ said the man and slapped his knees
with his hands. There it was, the breath of the lighter load. To give some ceremony to his impromptu confession the priest did the sign of the cross over the head of Zafiris and recited the forgiveness prayer. Zafiris got up, did the sign of the cross and went over to the boat.

  ‘Father, I was going to stin Elounda with supplies from my garden for some other relatives. I give them to you and the residents. Tell Makis they are from Zafiris.’ The boatman helped him unload the items. Manoussos could see two large barrels of olive oil, a large cooking pot, a bag of onions, a bag of potatoes, jars of tomato puree, spices, melons, crates of colorful vegetables like eggplant, zucchini, peppers and a crate of six live chickens. ‘Whenever you need more tell the boatman and I will send what I can.’

  Nikos was strolling on the acropolis again while Artemis was resting. He was doing the mental work on how to go about implementing his plan on how to make the lepers feel healthy. ‘The answer is number four,’ came from a voice from behind the tree.

  ‘Alikhan, am I dreaming again?’

  ‘I don’t know but does it matter?’

  Nikos realized Alikhan had given him information, ‘What is number four?’

  ‘That is what you need to implement your plan, the problem you came here to see me about.’

  Nikos looked down at the notepad he had with him, on it was listed the four goods of man. He had them in numbered order, the fourth was wealth. Alikhan was telling him to find a way for the all to have extra money. He had mentioned it in every letter he had written but had yet to receive any response so he went back to his house to read for a while. He was looking down at his notes all the way, looking up occasionally to avoid tripping over anything. He knew he was close to his house so he looked up to ascend his doorstep.

  Pavlos was standing in his doorway and he was holding one of the food baskets in his hands, the ones he had put in the safe keeping of Maria. ‘I thought you were educated already, why do you keep reading, you must be stupid if you need to keep learning new things.’