"I’m not going to tell." Eva looked over the precipice again and smiled. "I have no idea what happened to those pills. They make me very forgetful." They looked at each other and grinned. Zoe glanced at Eva for a moment and then looked away. She continued to gaze over the mountain, lost in thought or so Eva thought. It had gone very quiet; the cicadas had stopped chirping and there was a silence which unnerved Eva a little. She was startled when Zoe finally decided to speak.
"Do you really believe God has a plan?"
"Yes."
"Well, if God had a plan, why did he choose to take my mama and yours?"
"I don’t know." Eva sighed. "How do you explain us being friends?"
"We’re friends?"
"I think so. Aren’t we?"
"You want to be friends with someone who wanted to kill you?"
"You wanted to kill me. You don’t anymore...well, I hope you don’t." Eva worriedly looked at Zoe, who had a mischievous look on her face. "You don’t, do you?"
"I don’t kill friends," Zoe replied, and reached out and tweaked Eva’s chin.
Eva was completely taken by surprise by the very intimate gesture and she smiled. The only person who had ever done that before was her friend Wilhelm, who for some reason enjoyed tweaking her dimpled chin. She never understood why and now Zoe had done the same thing.
"Did I do something funny? I just find your dimple cute."
She finds my dimple cute? Oh, dear... Don’t be silly, she’s just being friendly. Don’t get excited, you’ve had friends before; she’s just being friendly; a little too friendly but there is nothing to it—she’s young and she doesn’t understand. Eva gave Zoe a very shy smile.
"You should do that more often."
"What?"
"Smile. It makes you look younger."
Is she flirting with me? Come on, Eva, stop being stupid. She’s just being friendly. "You have a very nice smile as well," she said without thinking and mentally slapped herself. Smooth, Eva. Very smooth. She’s not interested in you, so stop this right now. Stop it before you get yourself killed.
"I do?" Zoe spoke softly.
"Um...yes. When you smile, it reaches your beautiful eyes. It doesn’t make you look younger because you’re already younger...I mean...uh...you’re young and you have a lovely smile and umm..." Eva stammered to a stop and couldn’t quite believe it was her that was acting life a goofy teenager. Shut up! Will you just shut up!
"Are you alright?"
"Ye...no," Eva stammered. "Let’s go back; I think this heat is getting to me."
Zoe got up quickly from the rock and offered her hand to Eva, who took it. As she got up, Zoe put her arm around her waist. "I think the heat is getting to me too."
Oh, yes, it must be the heat. Eva quickly glanced at Zoe before they joined her guards for the trek back to the house — and back to being who they were supposed to be.
Chapter Twenty Seven
October 12, 1944
The wind picked up as Zoe walked purposely towards the cemetery. It had been a few weeks since she last visited the graves of her parents and brothers. With her newfound role as Eva’s maid and their resistance activities she couldn’t spend as much time as she wanted at the cemetery. Today was her 16th birthday. Birthdays were not celebrated these days but she wanted to spend some time with her parents.
Zoe paused outside the cemetery and made a decision. She walked towards the gate and entered. As she passed an elderly woman, she nodded and walked further in. She made her way to her parent’s gravesite and knelt beside the grave and started to pluck the weeds which had sprouted from her last visit.
"Good morning, Mama, I have some good news. It wasn’t Muller’s daughter but someone else who laughed when I was holding you as you lay dying." Zoe felt her throat tighten. She could barely say the words without the overwhelming feelings of anger and despair. She pushed those feelings aside to continue talking to her mother. "I took care of that heartless cow." Her voice caught. She blinked away the tears and, wiping at her eyes, she took a deep breath and continued. "She’s roasting in hell as we speak."
Zoe plucked some more weeds from the grave. "Good thing I didn’t kill Eva, because not only is she innocent but she’s also helping us in the Resistance." She sat there for a few minutes looking down at the weed in her hand. "She is so beautiful. She has the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. They remind me of the time we spent on Lymnos and the Aegean was so blue. When she looks at me, I sometimes forget what I’m doing."
Zoe smiled, and despite no one being around, she felt shy about saying these words aloud, words that had been in her mind for the last few months. "And she’s tall, nearly gives me a neck pain from looking up at her so I have her sit down to talk. That way I can look at her eyes. Remember how I said I didn’t like tall boys? I don’t think that applies to girls," Zoe admitted and hoped that her mother wasn’t disappointed with her. It had been the first time she had said aloud the reason she didn’t like any of the boys that offered to marry her—it wasn’t because they were not nice but because they were not the right gender. "She’s not like the other girls in the village, Mama, she’s different. I hope you’re not upset with me. I’ve tried not to think about her but it’s a little difficult when—um..." She stopped talking and blushed. "Maybe you don’t need to know the other part," she added and gently brushed her hand over the cross on her mother’s grave.
"I’m sixteen today. Didn’t think I would live to see fourteen but here I am. The Allies have landed in Normandy. I didn’t know where that was but Eva showed me on a map. That’s her name. Eva Theresa Muller. Isn’t that a beautiful name? I’m not sure why she has two names but Germans are funny. Eva says that the war is going badly for the Germans and we may soon see an end to it." Zoe watched the sky lighten and the sun begin to make its ascent.
"I have so much to tell you about what is going on in the village…"
***
Father Haralambos made his way down the street deep in thought. The war was still raging but the Allies had landed in Normandy in June, and that was good news. There had also been hopes of a quick end to the war, but it was now October and the hopes had evaporated. However, his job of smuggling people out of Larissa and Greece had met with some success over the past year with Zoe working with Eva. The Resistance had kept up pressure against the Germans throughout the long hot summer, frustrating the enemy.
What pleased Father Haralambos even more was the friendship that had grown between Eva and Zoe. Even though he saw a positive change when Zoe began as Eva’s maid, there had been a major difference since July. The two collaborated on getting the identity papers to him even though on occasion they came close to being caught with the forged paperwork. They weren’t caught though, and the work continued. He also noticed Eva was less depressed and more confident. She was smiling more. He was certain that Zoe’s friendship was responsible. They are both stubborn, but God, over time, worked a miracle!
Eva had been a revelation, beautiful and softly spoken. She was so much like her mother. Father Haralambos wished he could turn back time and just elope with Daphne, as she had wanted, but he had been the proper ass and gone to ask her father for her hand.
Petros Mitsos was a war hero and the big man in Larissa. Father Haralambos couldn’t just leave with Mitsos’ daughter. Your first mistake, you idiot, he admonished himself. Mitsos was justifiably angry to find his daughter pregnant and outraged when he found out who her lover was. Father Haralambos wondered how he ever managed to stay alive through the tumult. He kept his sanity with the help of a German priest he had met in Athens, where he had fled to get away from gossip. Father Johan listened to him for hours and guided him through the mess he had created for himself.
"Ah, ancient history, old man," Father Haralambos muttered. Daphne had done a great job in raising Eva, and he was grateful to God for listening to his prayers. "Something has to go right," he added. He looked up into the bright early morning sun and squinted. He had a lot to do in churc
h today and he was determined to get an early start. He rounded the corner to the small alleyway leading to the back entrance of the church, his mind on the matters of the day.
"Father."
Father Haralambos was startled at the sound of a voice coming from behind him. He turned and saw a man in his mid-twenties standing there, smiling at him. Father Haralambos embraced him and ruffled his dark hair.
Athanasios Klaras’ brown eyes shone with joy.
"Thanasi, my boy, so good to see you! What are you doing here?" Father Haralambos inquired.
"I was homesick," Thanasi replied with a grin.
"Have you eaten anything?"
Thanasi shook his head.
"Well, then, we have to remedy that. Come, we will go to my home and have some breakfast and we can talk."
***
In deference to Father Haralambos’ age, Thanasi walked slowly through the back alleys, avoiding the early morning patrols. He smiled at the man he loved as his father. Since his own parents had died when he was a young boy, Father Haralambos had lovingly filled the void. He had spent many a summer’s day talking to Father Haralambos and playing backgammon. In more recent times, when he found the war too hard to bear, he would close his eyes and remember those treasured moments—summer days at the river and water fights with the other orphaned boys. Father Haralambos had run the local orphanage and made it a point that the young boys learned to play, read the Bible, and be honest, upstanding members of the school.
Thanasi was brought out of his musings when Father Haralambos stopped at a small house. He opened the door and led him into a sparsely furnished room—two rickety old chairs stood against a wooden table. A large crucifix, the only decoration in the room, hung on the wall.
"It’s not much, but what is mine is yours," Father Haralambos offered.
"I have missed you so much. I can’t believe I’ve been away for so long," Thanasi said, and gave the priest another hug.
"I’ve missed you too. I long for the days when I was just a priest and my only worry was how to break up water fights between you and Giorgos!" Father Haralambos laughed.
"How is that old goat? I must go and see him and Samia."
Father Haralambos frowned. "We lost Giorgos."
Thanasi sighed and glanced up at the large crucifix. "A good man."
"We also lost Kiriakos, Antonios, and Stavros. They are at peace now. The village has been hit hard. It’s been a long three and a half years of occupation, but especially the last two years since you left. God only knows what our future will be." Father Haralambos he took out some cheese and bread and started to heat some water for tea. "So, how have you been?"
"I’ve seen better days. We’ve had some successes and a lot of losses...too many losses. We also have another problem—the British don’t want to help us. Churchill wants the King back and I say, to Hell with the King!"
"Communism isn’t the answer, my son."
"What is, Father? If we have British support, we can unite everyone and form a strong Resistance. Like the French have done. We can do it, but no one wants to sit down. Everyone is thinking about the end of the war instead of thinking about the present. We can’t form a government at the end of the war if we are all dead." Thanasi picked up the cup of tea Father Haralambos had put in front of him and took a sip. "Our government can’t organize a street parade, let alone this war. The King is happy and we are dying. Mark my words, Father, there will be a civil war in Greece after the krauts have been defeated. We stop one war and we begin another." His words were followed by a big sigh.
"Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that."
"There will be a civil war in Greece. It is a certainty."
"A civil war?" Father Haralambos repeated. "So that’s the answer? More Greeks dying."
"I don’t know what the answer is. We get rid of the Germans and then what? We get the King back? That loser? He sits there waiting for us to do all the dirty work."
"And the answer is Communism?"
"I don’t know, but the monarchy hasn’t worked. Maybe Communism will work. But we have a more pressing problem. I was in Thessaloniki last week. A trainload of supplies and Germans are on a train that will be crossing the Gorgopotamos gorge and it will also be carrying human cargo."
"That railway line has been bombed so many times. Didn’t the lads blow…" Father Haralambos stopped in mid-sentence and frowned. "Human cargo?"
"Jews. They are treated like cattle and sent to their deaths. Remember those boxcars we used to send sheep in?"
Father Haralambos nodded.
"They put those poor souls in boxcars and they go to their deaths...like sheep."
"That’s what camps are for? The ones that the Germans are using out of town?"
"Yes."
Father Haralambos stared at the man in shock. "That’s inhuman. But wasn’t the line recently destroyed?"
"They blew it up and the Germans rebuilt it. We’ve played this game now quite a few times. We’re going to blow up the line and the train."
"The train? You can’t do that — all those people!"
"We have to destroy that line and the train. Either way, lives are going to be lost. But if we destroy the railway, we send a clear message to those monsters that we will not submit! We have to fight them in any way we can, regardless of the risk. What is life under Hitler’s regime anyway?"
"What about those poor souls?"
Thanasi looked at the priest. "Those people are already dead. They’re alive now, but Hitler himself has ordered their deaths. What are you suggesting? That we don’t act? We don’t try and stop them? If we allow this train to pass, then they will be using this method to transport troops who will murder thousands of our brothers and sisters. Didn’t you tell me that it’s a sin not to act when you can help a brother in need?"
"Don’t quote my own sermons back at me."
"Is it a sin not to act?"
"There must be another way. Can’t we bomb just the line, or liberate the train?"
"I wish we could. We don’t have enough men to liberate the train. If we do that, the Germans will just start shooting and the prisoners will be killed. A few may get away but—"
"Isn’t it better to let the few get away than to kill everyone?"
"Get away to where? The whole country is overrun by Germans. Where do they go? They are destined to die. The Fates have already snipped their lives short."
"You are playing God."
"If I could find a way to stop the train, I would do it in a heartbeat. We have to bomb that train. There is no other way. What do you suggest we do?"
"I don’t know the solution to this particular problem. I don’t have the wisdom of Solomon. I don’t have the answers and I don’t know what to do. If we blow up the train, how many people will be punished and killed because of it? You know they will kill fifty Greeks for every German life lost... and those poor souls—"
"If we do nothing, those on the train are destined to die," Thanasi said, looking at the distressed cleric. "As I said, I wish there was a way to liberate that train, but there isn’t. We have to blow it up."
"We’ve been trying to get some of them out of the country," Father Haralambos said quietly.
"How? How are you getting new identity papers?"
"We have help from the inside."
"Well, that works for one or two families at a time, not for hundreds of people." Thanasi looked across at Father Haralambos. "Do I know him, this person from the inside?"
The priest smiled. "Major Muller has been doing it for us. He just doesn’t know it."
More questions were left unasked, as there was a knock on the door. Thanasi quickly hid in the adjoining room as Father Haralambos went for the door.
***
"Father, why aren’t you in church?" Zoe asked as she entered and sat down, not bothering to ask permission.
"You were going to church?"
"No. I was passing by and I saw the church closed. I came to see if you wer
e alright." Zoe looked around and noticed the two plates and cups. "Did I interrupt anything?"
"Do you want a cup of tea?" Father Haralambos asked as he held up the teapot.
"You’re not answering my question."
"One day, Zoe, your inquisitive nature is going to get you in trouble."
"That’s what Eva says." Zoe giggled. "So are you—"
The other door slowly opened and Thanasi stepped across the threshold with his gun in his hand. Zoe’s eyes widened and she leapt to her feet. "Ares!"
Father Haralambos looked at Zoe with a frown. "The god of war? You’re reading about those pagan gods far too much."
"No, Father, not that Ares—that Ares." Zoe pointed to Thanasi.
"What are you talking about, my dear child? This is my friend Thanasi."
Thanasi laughed. "Ah, the Nazis know me as Ares Velouchiotis."
"You chose to name yourself after the god of war?"
"Nice touch, don’t you think?" Thanasi chuckled. "I knew those stories on mythology you used to read to me would come in handy one day!"
"I think it’s great," Zoe chimed in as she stared at the man she considered to be a true war hero. His exploits were legendary among the local Resistance groups and made him a man wanted by the Nazis. Father Haralambos frowned at Zoe.
"Oh, Father, stop looking at me like that. We need heroes and if he calls himself Ares, why not?"
"Ares was a blood-thirsty god—"
"I hate to break this to you, but Ares never existed, remember?" Zoe said with a chuckle.
Father Haralambos ignored Zoe’s last comment. He glanced at Thanasi, who had a grin on his face and was enjoying their banter. "How did you recognize him?"
"I saw a poster of him in Captain Reinhardt’s office when he interviewed me for the job, but I also remember seeing him around before he left town to fight with the Resistance," Zoe said as she continued to look at the Resistance leader. "The poster doesn’t come close." She realized what she had said and began to blush.
"Did you know about that?" Father Haralambos asked Thanasi.
"They have a very old sketch of me. I wouldn’t worry. The Nazis love me...problem is, I don’t love them," Thanasi said with a smile and a wink at Zoe.
In The Blood Of The Greeks (Intertwined Souls Series Book 1) Page 21
