by Lena Manta
“We’re a handful of people and we don’t have unlimited strengths!” Lambros objected. “You talk as if you don’t know that, Martha!”
“I do know that. But the works we perform don’t help us at all. I don’t know where you found them, but they make matters worse.”
“And where am I going to find something new now?”
“I have something myself, and don’t ask where I got it. It’s my business.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about it before?”
“Because we didn’t have Xenia, that’s why. The work is completely suited to a young girl. I’ve made some adjustments, I’ll admit, so that it fits the strengths of our group, but it’s ready.”
All disagreements were forgotten. Martha began telling them the story, which was a comedy with a clever plot, and soon after they began their first reading. It left them all satisfied, particularly Polyxeni. The bulk of the play fell on her shoulders. The dialogue was smart, especially a scene with Lambros, who would play her father, which soon transformed everyone’s smiles into laughter. The way Martha had adapted it, the costumes didn’t require much alteration, and the scenery was ready, since the entire play took place in a restaurant.
They all immersed themselves in learning their parts and in three days they were ready to perform in front of their public, which filled the café to overflowing. It was years since they’d had a theater troupe in the region and the owner of the café had done a lot of publicity. Polyxeni surpassed herself that evening. She was coquettish and charming in her role and the scene with Lambros provoked a storm of applause and laughter from the audience. By the end of the night the troupe knew they had a triumph. Differences had been forgotten, and Lambros himself hugged and congratulated Polyxeni when she came off the improvised stage.
“You were magnificent, Xenia!” he shouted. “And about what we said . . . all that is water under the bridge. I hope you don’t hold it against me.”
Polyxeni looked at him, satisfied. “I don’t remember anything after tonight’s show,” she answered. “Do you?”
“Not a word.”
They both smiled. A bright period began for the group and everyone recognized it. From the very next day they began turning people away from their sold-out performances. The café owner’s till was full and the actors finally had money in their pockets. Polyxeni didn’t change her way of life at all. Every morning, after her coffee, she walked around the area. When one of the locals suggested she see the enchanting sunset, she skipped dinner with the troupe, set off for the place she’d been told about, and waited patiently for the miracle to occur. The description she’d been given was hardly adequate. The air was so clear that she didn’t miss the smallest detail. She saw the fiery disk sink slowly, while the sky filled with colors that no painter could copy. The few clouds had descended very low, almost touching the sun like fine lace hurrying to wrap itself around its shoulders. Then suddenly, in a magical way, everything around her was on fire. Polyxeni had the feeling that if she stretched out her hands she could touch that scarlet color, and she herself would take on a little of the sun’s brilliance, so she opened her arms like a child. Later, when dusk turned to dark, she stayed in that spot with her head bowed, contemplating the wonderful experience she’d just had.
She came back to the village in a distracted state, determined to go again the next day to wrap herself in the sun’s rays once more.
She arrived a little earlier the next evening but she wasn’t alone.
“Martha! What are you doing here?” she asked when she saw the woman sitting on a blanket in the spot where she’d planned to sit.
“You’re not the only one who wants to admire the sunset,” Martha answered smiling and moved over, making room.
Polyxeni hesitated at first. She wanted to be alone; she had no desire for meaningless conversations but she couldn’t leave yet. So she sat down with a sulky face next to Martha.
“Kyparissia has a long history,” Martha began. “Even Homer refers to it in the Iliad. It was part of King Nestor’s kingdom, which took part in the Trojan War. During the Byzantine period it was called Arcadia, perhaps because of the many Arcadians who came here to save themselves from the Slavs. When the Byzantine Empire ended it was occupied first by the western Europeans and then by the Ottomans.
“How do you know all that?” Polyxeni asked, now interested.
“I read it. Do you like history?”
“It was my favorite class in school.”
The two women were silent for a while. Polyxeni looked secretly at Martha, who was sitting motionless, her back straight. A strange woman, who didn’t fit in with the rest.
“How did you come to be with Lambros and his troupe?” The question just slipped out of Polyxeni’s mouth. “If you don’t want to, don’t tell me . . . I understand.”
“I have nothing to hide. I was in love with an actor who traveled around with the troupes. I met him one summer when my family and I were on vacation in a village, and of course my parents didn’t want to hear a word about it. I was born in Athens. My father was a lawyer—we were a rich family with a pedigree, as they say. My family hoped I would marry someone whose social position matched our own, some lawyer or doctor—not a failed actor.”
“And what happened?”
“They refused to give their blessing, so I left home and followed him.”
“It took a lot of courage to do that.”
“And stupidity.”
“Did you ever regret it?”
“How could I not have regretted it? In the next town we came to he fell in love with another girl, and then another.”
“Why didn’t you go home then?’
“Because my father had cut off all communication with me. He had disinherited me and made it clear he no longer had a daughter. He left all his fortune to my sister, who married a man they had suggested to her. I lived alone, without any money. I couldn’t live in Athens—a lot of people there knew me and my story. In my helpless state I met an old friend from my time with the actor I had loved, and he suggested I follow him on a tour they were doing in northern Greece. I’d been in some plays and I knew I could act. Somehow while I was traveling I met Lambros, and the rest you know.”
“It seems unbelievable to me. Even though I knew from the beginning that you were different from the rest.”
“And you too,” Martha responded and looked directly at Polyxeni.
“What do you mean?”
“That Lambros and his troupe are very small for you.”
Polyxeni looked at Martha in surprise. How did she know what she was thinking?
“I know that you’ve thought about it too,” Martha continued. “You have a quality that would be a pity to waste, buried in the countryside playing silly parts in a café. With a little help you could rise very high.”
“But where would I find that help?” Polyxeni dared to ask.
“I’ll help you.”
“You? But if you could help me, why didn’t you help yourself all these years?” Polyxeni burst out, then bit her tongue.
“Because I didn’t have your beauty or your talent! And what’s more, recently I’ve acquired an admirer.”
“An admirer? What sort of admirer?”
“The sort that will help me in my plans for you.”
“If you think that I’m ready to sleep in anyone’s bed . . .”
“No, silly girl! I’m not trying to be a pimp. I want to help you.”
“And what would you gain from that? Why are you so concerned with my success?”
“Whatever happens will happen with a view toward profit, young lady. I’m talking about work. So calm down!”
“Sorry, that’s not what it sounded like.”
“You’re my golden opportunity to stop knocking about in the countryside. I’m looking to make money off of you and your work. But you must be prepared to work hard and do what I tell you. I don’t mean anything funny. Who you put in your bed is your own bus
iness.”
The sunset came, quieting their conversation as it bathed the horizon in crimson. Somewhere among the fiery clouds, Polyxeni saw herself dressed in beautiful clothes on large stages, performing important plays in front of well-dressed people. The setting sun seemed to her, at that moment, like a crown destined for her head. These were the dreams she’d had when she left home; they were the only reason she had hurt her mother so much. She knew very well that after she’d left, Theodora had shed enough tears to make a second river next to the one that already ran beside the house.
When the sun had fully disappeared from the vault of the sky, Martha began collecting her things. The two women walked back to the hotel in silence. Polyxeni didn’t dare to ask anything else, but questions were pounding at her brain. How would all the things Martha promised come true? How would the two of them set out and when?
That evening it took all of Polyxeni’s self-control to play her part correctly. Afterward, she tossed and turned all night, sleepless in her bed, and the next morning she had no desire for her regular walk. She found the group sitting in the spring sunshine drinking coffee, but Martha wasn’t there. Polyxeni listened patiently for quite a long time to the mindless conversations before she dared to ask Thomas, who was sitting next to her, “Thomas, where’s Martha?”
“She left really early,” the fat man answered. “She told us she’d be gone all day but back in time for the performance.”
“Where was she going? Didn’t she tell you?”
“I think I heard something about going to see someone in Patras, but I’m not sure. Why are you suddenly so interested in Martha?” Thomas wasn’t used to having the “countess” addressing him or anyone else.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I just didn’t see her and I was surprised.”
Her heart was beating hard now. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Certainly it wasn’t a coincidence. Martha must have gone to see her admirer. The one who would help her.
Martha got up from the bed unconcerned by her nakedness. She put a robe around her shoulders in a leisurely fashion, then lit a cigarette. Stathis watched her until she caught his eye and smiled.
“What are you looking at?” she asked.
“I’m not just looking—I’m enjoying the sight. You’re a very beautiful woman, Martha!”
“Yes, for my age, I’m well preserved!”
“For your age? Huh, I didn’t expect to hear something like that from you.”
“And why not? I know exactly what I am and how old I am. Come, enough of this laziness. Get up, I’m dying for a coffee!”
They sat on the verandah of the hotel to drink their coffee. After the first sip, Martha lit another cigarette, then turned to Stathis.
“So, will you help me with the plan I told you about?” she asked.
“About the girl, you mean?”
“Yes, about her. Without you, I can’t do anything, and an opportunity like this shouldn’t be missed.”
Stathis looked at her carefully for a while. “Why so much trouble for an unknown girl?” he asked.
“I thought I’d told you. Xenia is my ticket to leave the traveling theater.”
“You have another ticket, except you won’t accept it. We’ve been together for a year. I’ve asked you at least five times to be my wife and you keep refusing without giving me a valid excuse.”
“Stathis, do you know how old I am?”
“Do you think I don’t know? The very first moment you met me you were careful to tell me without my having to ask.”
“Do you think, then, that at nearly forty I want to make a move that might be another mistake?”
“Why would it be a mistake? I love you. I’ve told you that every way I can. For a year now I’ve been going all over Greece following the Pagonis troupe just to steal a few hours with you here and there. What more do I have to do to show you that I love you?”
“Why do we have to start this conversation again? I asked you to help me with Xenia. You told me that if I wanted, you could help me find work in a theater in Athens. So if you can, I’d like you to do that for Xenia.”
“And what will you gain out of all this?”
“I’ll take a percentage on the work I get for her. From what you’ve told me, Athens has begun making heaps of films. The girl’s got talent, I’m telling you. I don’t want to see her end up like I have, traveling endlessly and performing only in backwater towns and cafés. She’ll save herself, and me too!”
“And what will I get out of this?”
“I don’t understand. Don’t you want money too?”
“I want you.”
“But you have me.”
“Not like this. I want you to be my wife.”
“The same thing again! Why do you insist? Aren’t we fine as we are?”
“No, Martha. We’re not. I want you beside me all the time. I want to wake up in the morning and see your face. I want us to sleep together, to hold you in my arms. I want to go around with you, not for us to run and hide away in some hotel. I know that you weren’t lucky in your relationships in the past. I understand your fears, but you must know what sort of man I am.”
“I can’t disagree with you, but what will your circle of friends say? Have you thought about that? You’re rich; a man of forty like you can marry a younger woman who will give him children.”
“I’m not interested in children, and as for my circle, I don’t care what they think. If they don’t like my choice, they can go to hell. We’ll make our own circle. As for this girl you’re hung up on helping, I know that when something catches hold of your brain, it doesn’t let go. So I’ll help you. I’ll move heaven and earth and I’ll promote her. We’ll make her a star of the highest order. On one condition, though.”
“What sort of condition?”
“As soon as your protégé is standing on her own two feet, you’ll give it all up and marry me. Otherwise I won’t do anything at all.”
“That’s extortion,” Martha said accusingly.
“I don’t disagree, but there’s no other way with someone like you. Do you accept or not?”
Martha put out her cigarette and stood up. Stathis watched her every movement. When she went inside and headed for their room he followed her.
“You’re certain you’ll succeed, otherwise you wouldn’t have made such a condition,” she said.
“Exactly! In six months, the girl will have a career in her hands, and you’ll be my wife. Agreed?”
Martha arrived back in Kyparissia just ten minutes before the performance began and found the whole troupe in a panic over her absence.
“I’d like to kill you for what you did, but I don’t have time now!” Lambros shouted at her as they were getting dressed. Martha stuck her tongue out at him playfully.
When the performance began, she managed to say to Polyxeni, “Do your best tonight, Xenia.”
With Martha’s words in her ears, the girl got up on stage and acted her part exceptionally well, raising a storm of applause. Stathis, who had come back with Martha to see the show, was impressed. Martha was right, after all. The girl was very beautiful. With a little care from specialists, she’d be dazzling, and her acting could stand up in any professional theater company, and in any large role. If she was photogenic, as he suspected, film directors would worship her.
Right after the performance, Martha brought Polyxeni to the table where Stathis was waiting.
“Xenia, I want you to meet my good friend. Mr. Stathis Syrigos came to see you tonight. Stathis, Miss Xenia Olympiou.”
Polyxeni was overwhelmed. She hadn’t imagined that Martha would act with such lightning speed. “How do you do?” she said as she extended her hand, and then sat down opposite him.
The couple immediately started making plans regarding Polyxeni’s future. But she didn’t quite understand everything they were saying, so she decided to intervene.
“Mr.—” she began.
Stathis cut her off. “It’s better if we start
with first names,” he said. “We’ll be working together and I can’t deal with formality when I’m working with people.”
“All right, but there’s still a problem,” Polyxeni went on.
“What problem?”
“I’ve been listening to you talking about things that I don’t completely understand. But I do understand one thing: you’ll need money to do this and I . . .”
Stathis interrupted her again. “And who said anything to you about money? Listen to me carefully, Xenia. We’re gambling on you—we’re investing. Do you understand?”
“No.”
“To us you are a business venture, and in a business that is starting out, you must put money in if you want to take more out later. Now do you understand?”
“More or less.”
“You’ll understand better as it goes along. For now, all you have to do is trust us and do what we tell you.”
“I want to be clear. I told Martha already, I don’t want to . . .”
This time Martha intervened. “Don’t be afraid. When Stathis tells you to do whatever we tell you, it will have nothing to do with your morals.”
“Of course that’s right,” Stathis hurried to reassure her. “We won’t interfere at all in your personal life, so long as it doesn’t harm your career. When you become famous, you’ll choose who you want beside you.”
“So, shall we move ahead?” Martha asked.
“In order to move ahead, you’ll need to tell Pagonis that you’ll be gone in fifteen days. Both of you,” Stathis said.
“So soon?” asked Polyxeni. “I mean, he won’t be able to . . .”
Stathis stopped her again. “If you want to get ahead in this business, Xenia, you’ll need to leave your feelings behind sometimes. Now, we have a lot of work to do, and we don’t have time to waste.”
Two months later, Polyxeni felt as if she had found herself at the center of a cyclone that threatened to break her to pieces. Everything around her happened with astonishing speed. Every night she fell into bed exhausted and despite her efforts to put some order into her thoughts and write down the things that had happened that day, or count the new faces she had met, sleep came before she could manage to even form a picture in her tired brain. The Pagonis troupe, which she’d been traveling with such a short time ago, was already a dim memory.