Tasia was listening nodding her head in agreement.
‘I know what you’re talking about,’ she agreed.
‘Come on, then! Let’s go! We’ve wasted a lot of time. I’m not getting paid to do nothing,’ Olga said, half-seriously and half-jokingly.
She got up and began to walk away from the stream and the meandering path, while Tasia, motionless, watched her for a while before getting up and running to catch up with her. Her head felt heavy and was beginning to throb with a headache.
The sun was climbing rapidly and the atmosphere was hot and airless. Tasia wasn’t sure if the prevailing total silence reflected the deadness she felt inside. She swallowed repeatedly trying to dislodge a knot wedged in her throat, as she kept walking behind Olga. Her emotions seesawed with breakneck speed, giving her no time to understand and control them or understand their source.
‘And where are you going if I may ask?’ she called with a hoarse voice, running after her.
‘To Australia.’
‘Where?’
‘To Australia. Didn’t you hear me? To Australia.’
‘And where’s Australia? I’ve never heard of it! Where is it?’
‘Very, very far. At the end of the world. In the south hemisphere.’
‘That far?’
‘Yes, that far.’
‘But why?’
‘Haven’t I told you already? Because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in these remote villages. I have something else in mind but don’t laugh if I tell you.’
‘Of course I won’t laugh. Tell me, please,’ Tasia begged.
‘I want to do further studies in my field which I can only do in America. But I can only study in America if I know English. English is the official language in Australia so I’m bound to learn it quickly out there. You can see that I have carefully considered everything and I’m acting responsibly.’
‘What do you mean? Do you know anybody there? Does it cost a lot?’
Tasia wanted to know everything.
‘No, it’s not going to cost me anything. Australia needs workers and it pays the fares of people willing to enter into a two-year contract with the Australian authorities. I know some people in our Ministry of External Affairs and they are willing to speed up things for me.’
‘So, there is no expense involved,’ Tasia wanted to be sure. ‘And when are you leaving us, then?’
But there was no time for Olga to answer as a donkey trotted down the road with a stout old man on its back.
‘Good morning, girls,’ he greeted them cheerfully.
‘Good morning Barba Manoli. How are you? What are you up to?’ Olga responded.
‘I’m going to my vegetable patch to see how the beans are doing,’ he answered. ‘Do you remember Mrs Dimitra, the sick lady you visited last time? She passed away, God bless her soul. That’s life! Her time has come. She must have been close to sixty-five. That’s all our news. Come on, ts … ts … ‘
He kicked the donkey’s belly with his right heel, making it resume its rhythmic trot.
‘Is his real name Barba Monoli or is everybody Barba Monoli to you?’ Tasia teased her.
‘No, really; that’s his name. He’s so funny, though. He said of the deceased that her time had come, was close to sixty-five and I bet he is well over eighty.’
They stepped to the side of the road to let a cart pass.
‘Good morning, girls! Good morning, Miss Olga,’ the driver greeted them.
‘Good morning Mr Nikolas. How are you? How are your better half and the baby?’ Olga responded.
‘They’re fine. The little fellow is doing fine. If you have time, drop in to see them.’
‘Yes, of course I’ll come to see them.’
Tasia stared at them with her mouth open.
‘Don’t tell me you know him, too?’ she said soon as he left.
‘Of course I do. I was there when his wife gave birth to their son. Until now I’ve been to the village three times and I’ve met many people.’
‘Yes, but how do you remember their names? I don’t know the names of half the people in my village.’
‘That’s only natural. As you’ve told me, you lived away for the past six years and only visited. Don’t forget my job demands I have contact with the people I serve. And despite what I say, I love and admire humans, the most incredible creation of divine nature.’
Through the thick foliage they could see the first houses of the village they were going to. In the middle of the first street they entered there was a large dog lying there. As the two girls got close it lifted its head and looked at them slothfully, then it rested its head on its front paws and went back to sleep. The air was full with the indeterminate odour of forest and flower smells mixed up with sheep and cow dung, burnt wood, cooking and wet soil.
The cafenion was at the furthest end of the village square. Its yard shaded by large linden and oak trees had recently been swept after it was sprinkled with water to cool it down and prevent dust. Three elderly men stood by a table silently watching the two sitting and playing tavli. At another table an old man sat, his left arm resting on his crook as he stared into space with a vacant expression. Another two men were sipping coffee while they studied their hands of cards.
Only the shopkeeper noticed the two girls and hurried to welcome them the moment they sat at a table under the shade of a huge oak tree.
‘Welcome, welcome, miss Olga,’ he said coming close. ‘What will you have? The coffee’s on me.’
‘Oh, no! Please! We’ll have two medium but let me pay for it,’ Olga replied.
As an afterthought she turned to Tasia.
‘How do you take your coffee?’ she asked.
‘Medium,’ Tasia replied, not wanting to complicate matters for the shopkeeper.
‘Two medium then, and cold water please,’ Olga ordered. ‘Tell me though, how are you? How’s your wife?’
‘Let’s say she’s well, as far as we can see. Let me make the coffee and then we can talk,’ the shopkeeper said and left.
Tasia thought how much she would have loved to be like Olga, to resemble her just a tiny bit. She was extroverted and able to start and maintain a conversation with friends or strangers, creating a friendly atmosphere and gaining people’s trust. Maybe she was trained to be like that when she studied midwifery, something that Tasia too could learn if she were to undertake the same studies.
Time was passing quickly. They left the coffee shop and walked in the streets, a group of barefoot and slovenly small children running after them. They passed a black-clad old woman who sat on the steps of her house and as soon as she saw them she began to move her hand in a weird fashion as if throwing stones at them, swearing loudly.
‘A pathetic old practical midwife who went dotty,’ Olga explained.
For Tasia, every new moment was filled with surprising new experiences. The things she saw behind the doors of the houses they visited had no relevance to what Tasia had learnt at school. She even noticed how important and uplifting a simple ‘good morning’ to total strangers was, making them feel they had been noticed, esteemed and valued as fellow human beings. Despite this awareness, she couldn’t manage to control her uneasiness every time they’d meet someone on the street, perhaps a leftover from the humiliation she felt every time her greeting was left unanswered by some of her fellow villagers.
They visited a young mother and her month-old baby. The old lady who opened the door greeted them and showed her respect and gratitude towards Olga by grabbing her hands and kissing them. They visited another house: a stable rather than a house. The stench made Tasia feel sick. Entering the room her eyes got used to the dim light, and she saw the outline of a small body lying in a bed in the corner. The young mother was a gipsy, Olga told her. She was almost a child and looked pale and tired. A tatty blanket covered her and the baby who was crying non-stop. The messy place had very few things, making Tasia feel almost ashamed about her own more comfortable living situat
ion.
‘The baby is hungry,’ Olga said, examining the red and raw nipples of the young mother, ‘but you too, are in a sorry state.’
She set to work, washing the nipples with salty water then — applying special lotions, all the time advising the young mother what to do — cleaned the baby. By the time they left, the baby was sleeping peacefully while the grateful mother thanked Olga for all her advice and care.
They visited several more houses. Watching Olga at work Tasia felt many and varied emotions such as disgust, pity, confusion, pain and admiration. Wherever they went, Olga introduced Tasia as her assistant. She explained to Tasia the progress of a wound she dressed, or what could be the cause of a swelling she palpated. Tasia was very impressed by the quiet dignity, the courage of some sick people — and their families — Olga attended to. She was also impressed by Olga’s knowledge and skill. Olga was ready to help, to support, to encourage and to nurse with patience and gentleness the young mothers and the sick people she saw, making them feel comfortable and confident to take care of themselves.
Olga carried a black bag containing everything she needed for her work. When visiting very young babies she’d take a strange-looking scales: a piece of flat metal like a fifteen inch ruler, with a ring on one end and a hook on the other. She would pin the swaddle wrapped around the baby to the hook and lift it up to weigh the baby. She would then record the baby’s weight on a small ledger kept by the mother.
When they visited a pregnant woman, Olga took a wooden implement — like a funnel or a very large spool — out of her bag and place it on the distended abdomen of the woman to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. She asked Tasia to listen also, and then encouraged her to palpate the shape of the baby showing her where the head was lying inside its mother’s pelvis.
How miraculous was the development of a new life, Tasia thought. How productive was the female body. Tasia didn’t have the knowledge to understand everything she saw but was very impressed by Olga’s competence and her unmatched ability to inspire confidence and trust in people. In Tasia’s eyes Olga was growing minute by minute changing from a mere mortal to a semi-goddess. Yes, Olga was someone Tasia decided to look up to, someone she would try to emulate. And while she never felt comfortable about her own body and the human body in general, she started entertaining the idea of becoming a midwife herself.
Late in the afternoon they started walking back home. The dusk was gradually falling, and the air was warm and heavy with humidity. The evening star had made its appearance in the misty eastern sky. The birds were easing their chatter. A donkey’s bray could be heard from some distance.
‘I’d like to go and relax by the brook for a while. What do you say? Are you in a hurry to get home?’ Olga asked.
‘I’m not in a hurry at all. Let’s go,’ Tasia replied.
She liked to let Olga be in charge. Olga knew what she was talking about and had a better knowledge of the area. What Tasia needed more than anything else was to be close to Olga, to listen to her, to breath the same air Olga was breathing. She treasured every extra moment she could be with Olga.
From the misty meadow in front of them, two large storks took flight, passing leisurely and majestically over their heads. A scared hare standing on his hind legs straightened his big ears and took off, disappearing into the shrubs.
They lay on their backs side by side in a field of chamomile and other wild flowers. They remained silent, enjoying the smell of the crushed chamomile and watching the trembling stars grow brighter as the firmament became darker. Some birds enchanted by the evening’s splendour returned late to their nesting place in the nearby trees and were still flapping their wings and fighting for space.
Tasia rested her head on the palms of her hands with fingers linked. She shut her eyes savouring the intoxicating field smells and listened to the evening sounds. She could imagine a white horse with a wild sorceress on its back galloping towards them. But it was her heart that was galloping. She opened her eyes just the moment an enormous moon freed itself from the eastern horizon flooding the universe with its silvery rays and creating light and shadow so that the ghosts, the fairies and the vampires could dance and chase each other between the trees and the shrubs.
Tasia tried to imagine the feelings a primitive human being might have had the first time he saw a view like this. She wondered if he too had felt the same blend of joy and awe.
Olga’s rhythmic breathing comforted and reassured her. As long as Olga was nearby she had nothing to fear, even if they were the last two people on earth.
‘I was very tired and fell asleep,’ Olga said after a while, lifting herself on her elbow.
‘I even dreamed. A repetitive dream. Always the same. I’m sitting in a corner, waiting. Ever since my father left for work one morning and never came back, I dream I’m sitting out there, waiting. For some strange reason I didn’t wait for my father this time but for Nick.’
‘Well, who’s Nick? Where is he?’ Tasia wanted to know.
‘Happily married and a big shot in Athens, I think. I was once engaged to him,’ Olga volunteered.
‘Engaged?’
Tasia moved her body away so as not to touch Olga, as if to avoid becoming contaminated and getting germs and boils all over her. The goddess and the angel of a few minutes ago, the role model she was ready to emulate was after all a deflowered, fallen woman. That’s the opinion people had about the very few girls who got engaged and separated. No self-respecting man was ever going to marry a girl like that!
‘Leave it! Let’s forget about that,’ Olga said misinterpreting Tasia’s withdrawal.
‘That’s life! I’ve learnt that if you’re an orphan and poor you can’t compete with girls from wealthy families. Not that I ever did that. But unwittingly I was caught in a dirty game.’
Tasia’s curiosity couldn’t be contained.
‘What do you mean? What dirty game?’ she wanted to know.
‘Men of today auction themselves: for so many gold pieces a girl can get a doctor, a few less she gets a solicitor, less still she gets a public servant. If you have no money or property of any kind, you get nobody. You’re left a spinster,’ Olga said, reiterating what Tasia knew already.
‘You never know what’s hidden inside a person,’ Tasia blurted out.
But Olga took it as just a comment on what she had just said and continued.
‘Believe you me. Maybe because many men were killed in the war the remaining few have become shameless dowry hunters. But, to tell you the truth, I count my blessings. I could have married that spineless and worthless little man. Let’s go.’
She tried to get up but Tasia held her by the arm forcing her to sit back.
‘What happened then? Please tell me,’ she begged.
‘Curiosity killed the cat,’ Olga sighed. ‘Serves me right. I shouldn’t have mentioned the dream.’
‘Well?’ Tasia pressed.
‘What can I say? It means nothing to me any more. Today I wouldn’t have married that man even if he were the only man on earth!’
‘Who was he? Where did you meet him?’ Tasia wanted to know.
‘We met at a community health care clinic in the town of Almyro. It was my first position after I graduated. There were three of us: the doctor, a community health-care nurse and myself. Nick was the doctor and from the very start the two of us couldn’t see eye to eye. He was rude and antagonistic. He was always trying to find reasons to belittle and humiliate me.’
‘Well, why did you get engaged to such a person?’ Tasia was mystified.
‘Things changed after the community nurse left. He started telling me I was the best colleague he had ever had and I was stupid enough to believe him. One day he proposed to me and I accepted despite my better sense warning me.’
‘What made you accept his proposal then?’
‘Fear of being by myself and the knowledge society didn’t look kindly on a single woman.’
‘He proposed, you accepted and t
hen you left him. Nobody knew about it and nothing else happened. Isn’t that so?’
Tasia had a need to reassure herself about Olga’s purity.
‘No. It’s a bit more complicated than that. Nick wanted everybody to know about it and organised a big engagement party. We exchanged rings in front of the priest, the best man and many guests. Our engagement was the year’s biggest social event for the small town, even though no member of our immediate families attended.’
‘Well, as you’ve told me you have no family,’ Tasia interrupted.
‘That’s right. And Nick only had his mother who had dementia and was being nursed in a clinic in Athens. Her condition was advanced and that’s why he didn’t want me to see her. He was very sad about the prospect of losing her and was always in Athens in order to spend as much time with her as possible.’
‘Why didn’t you go with him?’ Tasia wanted to know.
‘Someone had to stay and cover his absence at the health-care centre. I was too naive and innocent and never doubted his explanations, even when he stayed away for days on end. I admired his professed devotion to his mother and put up with his absences and his bad tamper.’
‘Bad temper too? Is that what made you run away?’ Tasia asked in earnest.
Olga laid flat on her stomach, cut a grass stalk, placed it between her teeth, and remained silent for a while.
‘I was with a woman who was in labour for over thirty hours. That’s nothing unusual, particularly if a woman is giving birth to her first child. Suddenly, listening to the baby’s heart, I noticed signs of distress. Alarmed, I sent the baby’s father to go and bring the doctor. Fortunately, by the time the father came back, nature had taken its course and I placed his firstborn baby boy in his hands.
‘Congratulations! You have a fine son,’ I said, and looked around. ‘Where is the doctor?’ I asked. He looked very uncomfortable, almost embarrassed.
‘“There were some men outside your house, Miss Olga, and they were loading some furniture onto a truck. When I found the doctor he told me not to worry about the baby and then asked me to say goodbye on his behalf. I was looking at him, unable to believe what I’d heard. What do you mean goodbye? I asked. He got into an expensive car. The driver was a very modern young lady. Look, Miss Olga, if you cut across these fields you’ll catch up with them.”’
The Lace Tablecloth Page 18
