The Rush Cutter's Legacy

by Sara Alexi

  'Vasso, you are a kind-hearted woman. Spiros has chosen someone like his mama and I am proud of him.'

  'Well, I think I have my answer as to whether I can call this little one Theodoris. But I warn you, Spiros said he was going to use this as a way to ask you about his papous. He knows there is something so you might want to think what you intend telling him.'

  'What shall I tell him, Vasso? What would you do?' The white showed all around his irises, one fist grinding into his other palm, his legs twitching.

  'I cannot tell you that, Stamatis. I have no idea what I would say. I suspect if he knew about this, what little relationship he has with Argyro would just sink to nothing. He would lose any respect he has for her.'

  'And for me.' Stamatis hung his head.

  'The difference is he loves you.'

  Chapter 33

  'How’s your day going?' Spiros returned late one morning to check on Vasso and the little one. He cooed and admired the baby all over again, checking tiny hands and feet, watching his expressions, growing anxious when he cried and looking relieved when he peacefully fed.

  'You know what, Spiro? I never knew my baba. He was not a great man by all I’ve heard, but his baba, my papous, was as soft and as kind a man as you could hope to meet. He supported Mama through my baba's absences before he died, so I have heard. He took her side in arguments, Mama has told me. You know, I think I would like to name our boy after him.'

  'What was his name?'

  'Thanasis. Do you like it? Although’ – she chattered on quickly – ‘I’m aware there was a boy at school called Thanasis, and because of his love of donkeys he was always called Donkey Boy, but there is no reason why the two should be linked. I mean, we are here on Orino Island, anyway, not in my village…' She knew she was talking too much but she wanted it to seem that her thoughts about the name were genuine and she wanted to make the point, inside herself at least, that her choice had good reason and had nothing to do with Spiro’s papous.

  'Thanasis?' He looked at the baby, who was watching the tree outside as it waved against the blue sky. 'It suits him.'

  'So we’re agreed?' She felt she was being cunning and she did not like the feeling at all. She wanted no secrets, so she reminded herself that her secret was for Spiro’s and for Stamati’s sake and she held her tongue.

  The baby, still known as ‘Baby’, grew quickly, and soon it was time for the priest to baptise him. Vasso’s mama and Stella made the visit to the island again for this great celebration, arriving on the Friday and leaving on the Sunday, and fussing over Thanasis, as he was officially known from then on, all weekend. Argyro had insisted on buying the christening clothes and, after his immersion in oil and water, she took him from Vasso and dried him gently, and dressed him in the lace finery. When she handed him back he was crying in his heavy, starched uniform. It was clear to Vasso that he was uncomfortable and overly hot but it would be an affront to Argyro to remove the garments. Stella, on the other hand, had no such reserve and she removed the frilled collar from his smock, handing it back to Argyro, who seemed too shocked to say anything. Outside the church, Stella continued to peel away layers, handing each in turn to Argyro, who appeared to have met her match. Stamatis drank wine, in moderation, and sat slumped in a chair repeating the name Thanasis over and over again to himself. Hearing it on his lips, Vasso began to love the name as she loved the child and it no longer felt important that she had a secret with Stamatis.

  Up to this point, Spiros had tried not to pressure her to return to work, but shortly after the baptism he came home one day after a long shift, exhausted.

  'I’m not sure how much longer I can stand her. All these promises of letting me order the produce, of putting the place in my name… I no longer believe her. I’m just a wage earner and all the skills I have are making the profit for her, that grumbling, argumentative old hag.'

  'Keep your voice down! You’ll wake Thanasis.' Vasso sat behind him on the bed and rubbed his shoulders.

  'Do you think you could come back to work for at least one shift a day, Vasso? Just so I can have some peace and gain some perspective?'

  'My poor Spiros. Is she really so bad? You said she had quietened down.'

  'Have you forgotten what she is like? And she is ruder to Baba than ever. I swear she’s been worse to him since Thanasis arrived. Sometimes I feel I’m on the brink of slapping her!'

  Through the window Vasso could see the closed shutters of Argyro’s bedroom. Thanasis must be a daily reminder to her of her situation. She had neither a child not a loving, close relationship. Apart from anything else, she must feel so very alone.

  'Don't be too harsh, Spiro.'

  'Harsh? You are calling me harsh? Vasso, I can't stand it any more and you accuse me of being harsh.'

  'Shh, my love.'

  'Come Vasso, do the evening shift, when he is asleep. Argyro can watch him when he sleeps.'

  She looked at their sleeping child for a while, listening to his breathing, thinking.

  'Okay, I will try an evening shift to see how it goes, but Thanasis comes with me – and Argyro – stays – at – home.' She pronounced the last four words individually to make her point.

  'And you call me harsh?' He allowed his shoulders to relax, and there was a teasing tone in his voice. 'So, can we try it tomorrow?' The energy in his voice showed his enthusiasm.

  'Sure, why not.' And she leaned over his shoulder to kiss him.

  Taking Thanasis to the taverna did not seem to be a problem. He slept most of the evening and needed very little attention, and so it was agreed that she would go in every other night. Soon she was working every night, and still the arrangement worked well. But as the weeks turned to months the child slept less and he was determined to crawl everywhere he could and put everything he could find into his mouth. At first, Vasso put a blanket down for him so his little knees would not be scuffed on the flagged floor, but he soon pushed past the limits of the softness. Then he became faster and Vasso found she could hardly turn her back to wash a plate without him getting to the taverna door or picking something off the floor and cramming it in his mouth.

  ‘No, dangerous!’ Vasso heard Argyro say, and she turned to find her mother-in-law taking a butter knife from his tiny, tight grip. Spiros, typically, was oblivious as he worked away behind the grill and Stamatis was out serving people, and for once Vasso felt grateful for Argyro’s presence. But then Argyro opened her mouth and the feeling died away. ‘If you cannot keep him safe he should not be here,’ she snapped, and before Vasso could answer Argyro was walking away muttering, with the child in her arms.

  Vasso became ever more vigilant but she began to doubt herself when Argyro saved little Thanasis a second time after he found a piece of broken glass, and a third time when she found him playing with a mousetrap. Although the mousetrap was not set, and therefore unlikely to harm his little fingers, it was what made Vasso suspicious, because the traps were always by the back door in the courtyard, a place Thanasis could not go. She mentioned her concern to Spiros one evening but he dismissed her claims as paranoid, kissed her on the top of her head and went off to shower.

  The customers, of course, loved Thanasis and they passed him from one to another, pinching his cheeks, encouraging him to walk. So, although Vasso was still haunted by her concerns about his safety and distrust of Argyro, she delighted in watching her son flourish from all the positive attention he got when she was at work, and she held herself in check, sharing her concerns with no one.

  Then he discovered the area behind the counter where his baba worked. The flames of the stove mesmerised him, and his little hands grabbed for the knives that flashed as his baba chopped rapidly. These implements were razor sharp, unlike the earlier butter knife, and soon what had been a case of keeping an eye on him became a continuous nervous exercise and the possibility of serious harm coming to him became ever greater as he grew. The incidents of the knife, the broken glass and the mousetrap faded into insignificance be
side the harm that could come to him if he went behind the grill.

  Of course, the inevitable happened, one day when everybody was distracted for a second. The fat spat. Thanasis shrieked. Stamati’s tray crashed to the floor outside as he came running. Vasso dropped a glass in the sink, leaving the smashed pieces as she leapt to the child's side. Spiros left the chicken to burn as he crouched down to grab his son. But the first person to reach him was Argyro, her arm around him, pulling him into her chest, rocking him, making soothing noises. She did not let him go when Vasso reached him, nor when Spiro’s hand was on her shoulder.

  'Argyro, let us see, let us see how he is hurt.' Stamatis tried to separate them. 'Argyro!' he insisted and reluctantly she made a space between her chest and the child, but not enough for anyone to see what had happened.

  'I think it must have been the fat spitting. Argyro we need to run cool water on it, please let us see.' But still the woman held fast.

  Vasso gripped Argyro’s forearm and physically pulled it away from Thanasis. Finally Argyro relented and Vasso pushed her to one side.

  It was only a small burn but it was enough. Vasso scooped him into her arms and was away out of the taverna before anyone could stop her.

  'Let her go, Spiro. The boy is not badly hurt. Let them be together.' Stamati’s final words came with a flash of warning to Argyro.

  Flames leapt from the grill, the smoke billowing up to the roof.

  'The chicken!' Spiros screamed and he ran to save the flaming mess.

  Chapter 34

  'Why are you home so early?' Vasso asked.

  'I burnt the chicken,' Spiros growled.

  'How do you mean?'

  'I mean I burnt the food!' he pulled off his shirt.

  'You never burn food.’

  'Well, today I burnt the food.' He peered at Thanasis, who lay on his back, arms outstretched, fast asleep.

  'He's fine,' Vasso assured him. 'So how come you burnt the food?'

  'Him,' he said, an accusing finger pointed at Thanasis. 'I burnt the chicken when he was hurt, and with the rest of what I have cooked I could not have done a worse job because my mind was on him, because you are not looking after him.' He went through to the tiny bathroom. The water hissed from the shower head. He would not be able to hear her now so Vasso said nothing. She waited till he came back in with a towel around his waist, his hair wet.

  'Are you saying it is Thanasi’s fault?' She would not have Thanasis accused of something that was clearly Spiro’s oversight. 'If you had kept your eye on him…'

  'So I have to cook and mind the child now?' He made no effort to keep his voice lowered, which inflamed Vasso even more.

  'Keep your voice down!' But her voice was as loud as his. Her heart beat fast and anger surged up though her chest and she felt ready to explode. It felt like she was alone in caring for Thanasis, and yet she must go into the taverna and work as she had always done, to make Spiro’s life easier. Not only that but, as she recalled the incidents with the mousetrap, the knife and the broken glass, the more she wondered about Argyro. Could it be possible that the woman would put her son in harm’s way in order to prove that Vasso was a bad mama? And Spiros would hear none of it! He wanted everything peaceful, smooth and easy, so he could concentrate on his work. Well, if she was the only person looking out for Thanasis she would do it on her own terms and that would not be at the taverna. Spiros would have to work with Argyro.

  'You keep your voice down. You are quick to tell me!’ Spiros retorted.

  ‘Shhhh.' Vasso tried not to retaliate.

  'To hell with your shhh. If you had done your job of minding him back in the taverna tonight’s food would not be ruined.'

  'I am sure it was not ruined.' Vasso looked up at Spiros as he stood over her. She lay on the bed, her head on her hand as she rested on one elbow, half curled around Thanasis, trying her best to stay relaxed.

  'You cannot have him at the taverna any more.’ He did not seem to care that he would wake Thanasis with the volume of his voice. ‘He must stay here, and Argyro will look after him.’ His anger only increased as he spoke and Vasso felt adrenaline course through her in response. ‘I have a kitchen to run, that is my priority. I will not debate this point.' By the end of his speech he was more furious than she had ever seen him, and Vasso wondered if Argyro had added fuel to this fire. But, whatever had happened, she was not going to be told what to do with Thanasis. Not even by her husband.

  'So it is only you who decides, is it? So your kitchen is more important than our son? Did I not say this before we were married? You should never have married me, Spiro, if you are always going to put your work first.'

  'Of course I put my work first! How else am I going to provide for you?'

  'That is a good excuse, but the truth is that your cooking has always come first, and everything is just used as an excuse to hide that fact.'

  'You used to be supportive of my cooking. I will not be moved on this point, Vasso. Thanasis does not come into the taverna any more, and nor does Argyro. She can stay at home and look after him.'

  ‘So now you are telling me, not discussing things with me? Well, I do not work like that, Spiro. If you wanted someone meek, you should have married someone weak.'

  'You pretended to be sweet when I married you.'

  That hit Vasso hard. How dare he!

  'Since then I have had to put up with you and Argyro arguing,' she countered, her head off her hand now as she sat up, the adrenaline coursing through her in waves. 'And when Thanasis gets burnt you blame your shortcomings on our son.' Her hands made fists, the baby stirred. 'Sometimes I wonder if Argyro is not just an excuse for your single-minded bad temper. Someone to blame if things go wrong.' She knew she was being unreasonable but she wanted to hurt him for even suggesting she had tricked him into marriage. Spiros was no more bad-tempered than his baba by nature. Single-minded perhaps, selfish even, but not bad-tempered. But poor Thanasis could have been badly hurt and Spiros did not seem to feel that this was the most important point. It felt terrifying, as if, out of nowhere, her marriage had become a mistake. Her whole world suddenly seemed like it was on an unsure footing. But lashing out at the person she loved most was not an answer, and as quickly as her anger had erupted she repented.

  'Sorry.' She quickly retracted her words. But he was pulling back on his trousers and, grabbing a T-shirt, he left, the door slamming, but not shutting, behind him. Thanasis awoke and began to cry.

  Vasso burst into tears and condemned herself for every word she had said as she lifted her charge and began to rock him back to sleep. Outside, below the window, Spiro’s footsteps rang out as he marched across the courtyard, his boots heavy against the flags.

  ‘Spiro!' Argyro’s voice rose from the direction of the main house.

  'What do you want?' Spiros spat.

  'A solution.' Argyro sounded calm, calculating.

  Sniffing hard to stop herself crying, and rocking Thanasis quite roughly, which he sometimes seemed to like, she waited to hear Spiro’s reply.

  He made none.

  'I have a solution,' Argyro said, and Vasso heard the door of Stamati’s and Argyro's house open. Then came the sound of papers being shuffled, presumably on the kitchen table. 'These are the legal papers to the taverna.'

  Vasso moved to the window. What was Argyro plotting? She hoped for once this was something good, something positive, but more likely it was just some new way Argyro had found of wielding her power. The open door threw a rectangle of orange light across the courtyard. The distance was short, but from one storey up she could not see them now they were inside. She put the now-sleeping Thanasis back on the bed and leaned out of the window.

  'I have been to a lawyer,' Argyro said with authority. 'These papers put the taverna into your name, if we sign – here and here.' Vasso hand covered her mouth, stopping her sharp intake of breath. The papers rustled. What was Argyro up to? Did Stamatis know? Why would she give over the taverna to Spiros? She could imagine S
piros reading the papers, checking them over, trying to make out if they were real, what they were really about.

  'No catch,' Spiro’s stepmother said. Vasso did not believe her.

  'Please do not do anything rash just because we have argued, Spiro,' she muttered to herself, willing him to stay calm.

  'In return I want two things.' Ah – here it came. With Argyro there was never something for nothing. This would be the catch and Spiros would come storming out, calling her names, another argument. She braced herself, looked back at Thanasis to see if he was sleeping soundly. All this arguing around him could not be healthy.

  'Name them.' Spiro’s voice sounded cautious but ready for a fight. Vasso was so sick of the loud words, the tension, the accusations thrown from Argyro to, it seemed, any member of her family who was close enough, that she willed this to really be a solution.

  'Stamatis keeps his job, always,' Argyro stated, and waited for Spiros to say something.

  'Why would I not want him working?' Spiros sounded puzzled.

  'And…'

  The leaves of the grapevine that grew up the side of Stamati’s house rustled on the slight breeze and Vasso leaned even further out of the window so as not to miss what was being said.

  'The child is mine to bring up.'

  Vasso wondered if she had misheard. She replayed the sounds in her head. Was she mistaken?

  'If you sign here… and here… than I become his official warden.'

  Every muscle and fibre in Vasso stiffened and the familiar swirling of the world that preceded her faints made her pull her head in from the window so she could grip the back of a chair. She must compose herself, go down and support Spiros. His anger would know no bounds. Might he even become violent? No. That was not who he was. But she must go to him, support him, show their solidarity.