by Jerry Cole
Greg wasn’t left to think too much about home when the guys pulled him into another bar. This one was tucked away in a quieter part of the city, but the music was good. Greg and the guys made their way to the bar, and waited for their boss to once again put his hand in his pocket and bring out cash to pay for their drinks. Greg didn’t mind. He’d promised it, after all.
It was while he turned away, drink in his hand, that Greg cast his eye over the bustling crowds in the bar and noticed that there were very few women there. He didn’t think much of it and gazed at the few girls present, before, out of the corner of his eye, he spied a familiar figure.
It was Alex. In one hand he was holding a slim glass with what looked like mint leaves crushed at the bottom. His other hand, however, was on the back of another guy’s neck. Alex was leaning in to the guy’s ear and shouting something, and the guy was laughing in return. Greg stared at the two of them. They didn’t look like he and Henry on a night out. They looked… close. Intimate. Like they were flirting. And then it dawned on Greg. He glanced around the bar once more and his hunch was right. He drank down his pint and was about to go and find Eddie when the man himself grabbed his arm.
“Jesus, boss!” Eddie yelled over the music. “We’re in a fucking queer bar! Look at them all! They’re going to think we’re fucking fags!”
Word quickly spread among the group and one by one the crew gulped down their beers and left the bar. Greg was the last to leave. Alex was standing right by the door and there was no way that Greg would be able to leave without him seeing. He placed his empty beer glass on the bar and his eyes went towards Alex again, and this time his heart pounded as he saw that Alex’s dark eyes were locked onto his. Alex’s mouth dropped open in surprise, before closing shut again quickly. All Greg could do was lift a feeble hand and wave and Alex blushed. His hand was no longer on the back of the other guy’s neck and instead he was alone. Greg had no choice but to walk toward him.
“Hey,” he called, but the music was so loud he doubted Alex had heard him. Alex cupped his ear, trying to hear over the thud of the music, and Greg indicated that he was leaving. Alex followed him out onto the street, where the other guys had left the bar and were hastily making their way out of the area, with no regard for the fact that their CEO was left behind.
Greg was warm and he wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. He and Alex stood awkwardly on the sidewalk. “Uh, I’m here with the crew,” said Greg finally, breaking the silence. “We just found this bar, and, uh, we didn’t know…”
“I get it,” said Alex. “We don’t get many people from out of town coming here. Unless they know what kind of a bar this is.”
“There was nothing outside, you know?” said Greg, as if explaining why twenty burly construction workers had burst into a bar and exiting again swiftly was perfectly normal. “I thought maybe it would have some kind of sign or maybe a rainbow flag?”
Alex laughed, but it wasn’t his usual, carefree laugh. Instead it seemed to mock Greg, who flushed with embarrassment. “This is Greece,” he said. “We don’t do rainbow flags. We’re pretty discreet around here.”
“I’m sorry,” said Greg. “I just didn’t know, that you, uh, that you…”
“That I’m gay?” asked Alex, and Greg nodded. “Well, perhaps that’s because the rainbow flag fell off my bike last week.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” said Greg. “And I’m sorry if I’ve caused offense. Please, have a good night.”
He began to walk away, but Alex came after him with swift steps. Greg looked down at his feet and saw that he was still wearing the same thongs.
“I’m sorry,” said Alex. “I was very shocked to see you in there just now. For a moment, I thought…”
“Thought that it was my kind of bar?” asked Greg, and Alex laughed again, only this time it was with the old warmth Greg had come to know, and like. Greg was relieved. Alex had seemed mad earlier.
“Yes,” said Alex. “Until there was a lightbulb that flicked on in your head. I think it flicked on in the head of everyone in your party at once. They couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”
“Yeah, I think I should probably go and find them,” said Greg. “It’s my treat tonight, and I don’t think any of them have come out with a single euro. They’ll all be wondering where I am. They can’t get drunk without me.”
Alex didn’t seem in a hurry to get back into the bar, but Greg noticed that his own feet seemed rooted to the spot, as though he wasn’t in a rush to leave, either.
“How’s Betty?” asked Alex, and Greg gave a wary smile.
“She’s good,” he said. “We haven’t had any more problems and she’s making good progress.”
“That’s good to hear,” said Alex, but Greg knew both the words and the accompanying smile must have been forced. For the second time in the space of ten seconds, Greg felt uncomfortable.
“We’re nowhere near your site, yet,” Greg urged. “We’re at least two hundred yards away, yet. That’s like a week and a half.”
“And what?” asked Alex, shrugging his shoulders.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean and what?” repeated Alex. “Why does it matter to me that you’re a week and a half away? That’s nothing. It wouldn’t matter if you were a day away. It wouldn’t matter if you’d already bored right through the site. I have no control over any of it. I tried to fight, and I lost.”
“Look, maybe now isn’t the time to get into everything,” said Greg. He reached into his pocket and from his wallet pulled out a cream-colored card, which he handed to Alex. “My number is on here. It works in Greece. And my email, too. Let’s grab a coffee and talk, okay? I guess your boyfriend is waiting for you.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Alex said quickly, with a shake of his head. “He’s a friend. It’s not like that with him.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” said Greg. “It’s not my business. I just don’t want there to be bad feeling with you and me, and I’d like us to have a coffee before I leave. That’s all.”
“When are you leaving?” Alex asked.
“I’m not too sure,” admitted Greg. “The hotel is happy for me to keep the room as long as I need it. They’ve put the price up but I don’t care. I thought I’d be home right now but I want to keep an eye on the job, you know? I guess I’ll give it another few days and see where I’m at.”
“Okay,” said Alex. He placed the card inside his own wallet, which he put in the back pocket of his jeans. “I will call you tomorrow.”
“Great,” said Greg. Both men were silent, until they heard a loud whistle coming from the end of the street. It was Eddie.
“Yo!” he shouted. “Boss! What the hell are you still doing there?”
“I have to go,” said Greg. “I’m sorry we’ve been so rowdy this evening.”
“No problem,” said Alex. “Go join your guys. We’ll speak tomorrow.”
As he left the bar and went to meet Eddie, Greg felt lighter for having spoken to Alex. At the same time, he realized that everything had taken on a brand-new turn, and had become more complicated. Alex had been quick to assure Greg that he was single. Did he think Greg might be interested? Greg hadn’t had to tell him that he was straight; he’d made that obvious. But still, Greg realized that the tiniest spark of joy had flooded through him to find out that Alex and the guy whose neck he was touching were only friends. Then a cloud of incredulity overshadowed everything and Greg shook his head. Why would he care who Alex was sleeping with? Why did he care at all? It had nothing to do with him!
“What the hell was going on there, boss?” asked Eddie, as they walked back towards the city to join the others. “Was one of those fairies making a move on you, or something?”
“Of course not,” said Greg. He thought quickly. “One of those guys recognized us from the site. Maybe he’s worked security or something. He was asking about how it was all going and whether I was going to tell his boss that I’d seen him in that
bar. I mean, I’d never seen the guy before, and I wouldn’t pick him out of a crowd again.”
“Thought you were getting hit on for a moment,” Eddie laughed. “I was about to come rescue you.”
I didn’t need rescuing, Greg wanted to say. I didn’t need you and your obnoxious whistle saving me from anything. I was doing fine. Instead, he forced a smile. “No, not a chance,” he said. “Now let’s go find the guys and get drunk.”
That’s exactly what they did. By the time the sun was coming up over the beautiful city of Thessaloniki, the guys were defeated. Greg was down over a thousand euros and God knows how many more had been charged to his credit card. He took a cab back to the hotel and looked at his watch. It was six a.m. In his drunken fog he remembered he wanted to call Molly, via the video calling app he had on his tablet, but there was no way he was going to let his only child see her old man in such a state.
Back at the hotel he closed the door and flopped onto the bed. Just before he fell asleep the last picture in his mind was that of Alex’s dark eyes, locking on to his own in the bar.
Chapter Eighteen
It was two in the afternoon before he surfaced. His cell phone was dead. He’d been far too drunk a few hours earlier to reach over the bed and plug it in. He did so now, and within five minutes the phone switched itself on and buzzed with messages and emails that had been sent hours earlier.
The last text to come through was from Alex. Greg sat up and padded over to the refrigerator for a bottle of cold water. His hangover was nowhere near as bad as it had been the week before, but Greg had steered clear of spirits, having learned from his most recent mistake. It was rare for him to have a bad hangover simply because of beer. As he sipped the water and made his way onto the balcony into the afternoon sun, the glare did not hurt him too badly and he realized he was nursing only the mildest of headaches.
Alex had sent the text only thirty minutes before Greg woke up, and he replied as he sat at the table and wished he had a fresh pot of coffee. He went back into the room and called down for room service to bring him a fresh pot and by the time he went back outside Alex had already replied.
“I can pick you up later if you like,” the Greek man had written. “I will find somewhere for us to eat the best food Greece has to offer.”
“I think I had that last night,” Greg replied. “Some pita bread with this incredible pork inside.”
“That is a gyro!” came the reply. “The staple diet of Greeks at the weekend!”
It was arranged that Alex would come by on his bike later that evening. The coffee arrived, and Greg eventually woke up. He wondered how the rest of his team had fared once they got back to their hotels, and sent a message to Eddie, ensuring that he checked everyone was accounted for.
For the rest of the afternoon, until Alex was to come by on his bike, Greg fidgeted. He felt jumpy. He was restless. He decided to take a bath, running the water deep and submerging himself under bubbles. It had been years since he’d taken a bath. Showering suited his lifestyle; it was quick and easily did the job within minutes. Soaking in the tub was different. He enjoyed lying in the silence, not looking at his cell phone, not wondering how he was going to be able to motivate the team to push themselves over the next few weeks even harder than they had the last few days. He just lay there, enjoying the quiet, his mind washing lazily over nondescript subjects without fixing on one in particular.
Alex came by at eight. Once again he handed the helmet to Greg and this time on the bike, Greg didn’t feel so self-conscious when they swerved around a corner and he had to grip Alex’s waist or he’d have fallen off. He even recalled the route that they took, and he figured they were heading back to the place Alex had taken him earlier that week. However, that was not where they ended up. Instead, Alex parked the bike in a lot by an apartment block and pointed towards the building.
“This is my apartment,” he said. “I called my mom and told her that I was having company and she drove over this afternoon and brought me a moussaka. Have you ever had it before?”
“No,” said Greg. “I’ve heard it’s good, though.”
“It’s the best,” said Alex. “I know we could go out, but money’s not the most free-flowing commodity around here at the moment.”
“I would have paid,” said Greg. “You don’t have to worry about that.” Then he felt embarrassed. He shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have rubbed in Alex’s face that he had a never-ending supply of cash and could afford for them to eat anywhere in the city.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Alex. “You can’t beat home-cooked food. Trust me.”
Greg realized how hungry he was, the gyros from the previous night being the last thing he’d eaten. After two hours soaking in the tub he’d been in a hurry to get ready and hadn’t given any thought to eating. That was another unusual thing for Greg. Skipping meals was not something he made a habit of.
Once inside the apartment building they took the stairs up twelve flights. “Sorry,” said Alex. “The elevator’s been broken for about a month and nobody’s been to repair it.”
“Well I can send someone over,” said Greg, without hesitation. Alex raised his eyebrows.
“Seriously?” he asked, as they marched up the stairs.
“Of course,” Greg replied. “We’ve got a whole team of engineers. We installed a cage elevator on the site. I’ll call Eddie and he’ll find the best guy to send over tomorrow.”
“That would be great,” said Alex. “I don’t mind taking the stairs but there are mothers with strollers and kids who have to drag groceries from the store up these stairs. Last week a family on the sixth floor had to move out and it took them three days to get everything out.”
Finally, they reached Alex’s floor, and while Greg tried not to wince, his calf and ass muscles ached from the unexpected workout. Since his arrival in Thessaloniki he hadn’t worked out once, and the climb to the top of the building had served as a grim reminder that he needed to take advantage of the gym in the hotel.
Alex opened the door and let them both into the apartment. Greg was greeted by a delicious smell of home cooking. He inhaled.
“Mmm, that smells really good,” he said.
“Greek women have one mission on this earth,” said Alex. “To feed. First it’s their husbands and then it’s their children. The daughters get married and feed their own families, but the sons? They get fed until they die. Even if they tell their wife that her cooking is the best in the world, secretly they don’t mean it. Nobody can hold a candle to a mother’s cooking.”
Alex had left the moussaka his mother had delivered earlier in the oven on a low heat and Greg was more than ready to dig in and eat it. Alex wasted no time in dishing out two large portions. Greg was bowled over by the iconic Greek dish of minced lamb, eggplant and potatoes.
“Every time I try something new here,” he said, between mouthfuls, “I say it’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my life. I don’t think anything can beat it. And then I go and try something else, and I say the same thing about that, too.”
Alex was pleased. The beaming smile didn’t leave his face the whole of dinner. Greg enjoyed seeing how proud he was of his mother’s cooking. As Greg looked around the apartment, he understood what Alex meant when he said that he didn’t have much money. The archaeologist lived very simply. The table at which they were eating was old and rickety, and must have been handed down through many generations. There were three old chairs around the table, none of which matched. Greg was eating dinner with what must have been the only fork in the house, because Alex was eating his moussaka with a spoon. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to embarrass Alex.
Greg gratefully accepted a second plate of dinner and had to refuse a third for fear he’d burst. He finally sat back in his chair and placed his hands on his stomach.
“I think you’ve beaten me,” he groaned, and Alex could only grin more as he cleared their dishes away. He opened the door to the tiny b
alcony and they sat outside, where Alex lit a cigarette and breathed in deeply, his bare feet resting on the balcony wall.
“How are you finding Thessaloniki, then?” he asked, and Greg gazed out over the apartment blocks. In the distance he saw the sea, where light from the city flashed over the surface of the breaking waves.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, his face serious. “I’ve never known a city with so much history. I could live here a lifetime and never even scratch the surface.”
“Now you know how I feel,” said Alex. “I start to read a book and learn about one piece of the city, and that leads me to another book, and then another, but once I have read ten books I have only covered a few years in the history of Thessaloniki.”
“Do you think you’d ever move away?” Greg asked, and Alex shook his head.
“I couldn’t,” he said. “I lived in the UK when I studied, and I traveled all over Europe and North Africa when I went to various digs to do my doctorate, but I always found a way home. Greece has a way of calling you back.”
“But you could take your experiences and your knowledge anywhere in the world,” said Greg. “You could teach. You could come to the U.S. and tell people about Alexander the Great.”
Alex laughed. “I could,” he said. “I don’t doubt I could get a higher salary if I became a teacher in any other part of the world. But we have a legend, here in Greece. It is about the creation of the world.”
“Go on,” said Greg. “Tell me.”
“In the beginning, when God was sitting in the heavens,” said Alex, taking another drag of his cigarette, “he looked down and decided to create the universe. He created planets, and stars, and one of the planets, he called Earth. And he took his time with Earth. He created beautiful countries, with lakes, and mountains, and rivers. But he created Greece last. And he kept it only for himself. Because it was his masterpiece. So we Greeks, we live here only as guests, because this is God’s land, and we are only the caretakers.”
