by Beryl Darby
‘Come and be introduced, Phaedra.’
She smiled at the newcomers and placed her basket on the ground. ‘I hope there’s enough. There’s plenty of bread to go with it.’ She placed earthenware bowls on the ground and filled each one with meat and vegetables.
Yannis ate hungrily; wiping his bowl round with bread, and wishing there was more. ‘That was magnificent,’ he smiled at Phaedra. ‘I don’t know when I last enjoyed a meal so much.’
‘She’s a good girl,’ Kyriakos praised her. ‘She makes sure I have a proper meal each day and does her best with whatever is sent over.’
‘Where do you live?’ asked Panicos.
‘Further up the path.’
Panicos moved a little closer to her. ‘Is there anywhere to live? I mean, a proper building where you’re sheltered from the elements?’
‘Not really, most of the houses are falling down.’
‘Why don’t you repair them?’
Phaedra looked at him scornfully. ‘You haven’t seen the island yet, or the people. I’ll take you on a tour tomorrow. That will answer all your questions.’ She gathered up the bowls and replaced them in her basket. ‘Is there anything you want, Kyriakos?’
‘No, these young men can refill the water jug and settle me down for the night.’
‘How about a walk?’ suggested Spiro, ‘we ought to see how the others have fared.’
Reluctantly Yannis agreed. Despite the fact that it was still light he would have liked to curl up on a mattress and sleep. Panicos yawned hugely, and Yannis guessed he felt the same.
It was only a short walk back to where the waterspout was situated, and that also seemed to be where most people lived. The new arrivals were still clustered together in an apprehensive group and looked relieved when they saw Yannis and Spiro arrive.
‘Have you eaten?’ was the first question Yannis asked and was gratified to find that everyone had made a meal of sorts, although it was doubtful that any of them had eaten a meal as good as his.
Panicos was shaking his head and he called to Yannis to join him. ‘Talk to them, Yannis. They want to insist the occupants make room in their homes for them to shelter for the night.’
‘What am I going to say?’
‘I don’t know, but we must keep them calm or there could be real trouble. We’ve no idea how many people there are on this island or how physically strong they are. If we upset the inhabitants we could be set upon and probably wouldn’t stand a chance. You know this island, you’re the best one to speak to them.’
Yannis sighed wearily; then raised his voice. ‘Listen everyone. Listen.’ He waited until he had gained their attention. ‘We are all newcomers over here. We want to be friends with the inhabitants, but it will take time on both sides. When we arrived they thought we were criminals because of our straitjackets. We have to prove that we are no different from them, ordinary people, who just want to live as best we can. It won’t hurt any of you to sleep in the open tonight. Put on an extra pullover, you’ve all received your boxes. Tomorrow we’ll look around and see if there are any empty houses we can occupy. We need to ask permission, we’re newcomers here, we mustn’t take other people’s homes.’
The men listened in silence, grudgingly agreeing that Yannis was right, and dispersing in twos and threes to find a wall to huddle against for the night.
Yannis soon found the piece of concrete he was laying on became cold and hard. He had donned two pullovers and placed all his other spare clothes beneath him, but it seemed to make no difference. Despite being huddled against Spiro he felt chilled to the bone and thoroughly miserable. Maybe if he went for a walk he would become warmer. Stealthily he rose to his feet and stood for a while rubbing his legs to restore the circulation. Moving slowly he groped his way down the steps and tiptoed along the path. Within a short space of time the outer wall of the fortress curved inwards and the concrete gave way to dirt.
Yannis leaned against the wall and strained his eyes in the darkness. Across the bay pinpricks of light could be seen, and even as he watched they were being obliterated as the people retired to their beds.
‘I’m so sorry, Mamma.’ His hand went to the charm she had given him.
‘What are you doing?’
The voice made Yannis start. ‘Who’s there?’
‘Only me, Phaedra. What are you doing?’ she repeated.
‘I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d walk around.’
‘You’d better go back and wait until the morning before you start walking around. A bit further on the path narrows and there’s a dangerous drop.’
Yannis shrugged. ‘No doubt if I’d fallen people would say it was what I deserved. It’s all my fault they’ve been sent here.’
‘And is it?’
‘I don’t know. I caused trouble, but I only wanted to make things better, not worse. I never thought they’d send us here.’ Yannis spoke miserably.
‘What’s so bad about being here? You said I’d given you the best meal you’d tasted in years, you have your belongings and you can do as you please. Go back to your friends and get some sleep.’
‘Coffee?’ Panicos pushed an enamelled mug of the hot brew into his hands.
Yannis sniffed at it. ‘Is it real coffee?’
Panicos nodded. ‘Phaedra gave it to me.’
Yannis sipped at the mug. It tasted good. ‘Is there anything to eat?’
‘There’s a bit of bread.’
Yannis dipped the bread into his coffee to soften it and munched slowly. ‘Kyriakos,’ he said finally, ‘who’s in charge of this island?’
‘How do I know? The government, I suppose.’
‘No, I mean who amongst you runs the island? Who decides how much food you have and where you live?’
‘No one. You just find somewhere and call it yours.’ Kyriakos shifted his position slightly. ‘If there’d been just one or two of you, you could have been squeezed in somewhere. As it is there are too many of you.’
‘So what can we do?’
‘Talk to Antionis.’
‘Will he be able to help?’
‘I don’t know.’ Kyriakos shut his eyes.
‘Where will I find him?’
‘Down by the water fountain.’
Yannis looked at Panicos and raised his eyebrows. ‘Shall we try to find him?’
‘Nothing to lose.’
‘Bring back some water,’ Kyriakos called after them and Panicos picked up the jug.
‘Where’s Spiro?’
‘He said he was going down to get some food. We can meet him down there.’
Yannis looked across the bay and felt a lump come to his throat as he saw people moving in the fields. They must be his family. ‘Come on,’ he said gruffly and led the way down the steps.
When they reached the domed building Spiro was sitting outside talking to Phaedra.
‘There’s no food,’ he announced. ‘Phaedra said the boats would start coming over soon.’
Yannis nodded, remembering the routine. ‘I’m glad you’re here, Phaedra. Kyriakos suggested I spoke to Antionis. He said he lived by the fountain. Can you show us his house?’
Phaedra looked at the men doubtfully. ‘It would be better if only one of you went or he might feel threatened.’
‘You go,’ said Panicos to Yannis. ‘It was your idea. I’ll stay with Spiro.’
Yannis followed Phaedra, remembering to thank her for providing him with coffee. ‘We only ever had water in the hospital. It was wonderful to smell and taste coffee again.’
‘I said you were better off here. Treat Antionis gently, won’t you? He’s an old man.’
‘Of course I will. I’m not a ruffian, despite whatever Spiro may have said about me.’
Phaedra smiled to herself. ‘He didn’t say you were a ruffian. Here we are.’ She rapped smartly on a door. ‘Antionis! One of the hospital men wants to speak to you.’
The door opened,
sightless eyes peered out into the sunshine. ‘Where is he?’
Phaedra took the old man by the arm and led him towards Yannis. ‘He’s here.’
The old man eased himself down onto the ground and Yannis squatted beside him.
‘What do you want?’
‘Kyriakos suggested I spoke to you.’ Yannis struggled for the correct words. ‘I want everyone to know that we want to be friends. All we want is a fair share of the food and somewhere to shelter.’
Antionis did not reply and Yannis began to wonder if the old man was deaf as well as blind. He began to repeat himself. ‘We want to be friends…’
Antionis held up his mutilated hand. ‘I heard you the first time.’
Yannis fell silent and waited for the man to speak.
‘You will have food, when food is sent to us. There is usually sufficient, unless the weather is too bad for the boats to land. Shelter is different. There’s very little shelter. We are sick, very sick. You’re all much fitter than we are. If you want shelter you must make your own.’
‘Make our own!’ Yannis was horrified. ‘How can we?’
‘When I had my sight I saw many houses that just needed to be cleared of rubble and strengthened. They won’t have disappeared.’
‘How long have you been here?’
‘Who knows? When the world goes dark about you day and night become as one. Time no longer means anything any more.’ Antionis fell silent and Yannis wondered if he was asleep. Quietly he rose to go. As he did so Antionis’s hand reached out and clawed at his trousers. ‘You will rebuild. Promise me.’
‘I don’t know. I can’t…’
‘Promise me.’
‘How can I?’
‘Promise.’
‘I promise’ Yannis crossed himself as he said the words, hoping his vow would not be held against him at a later date.
Yannis looked for Phaedra, but she had disappeared. He walked slowly along the concrete path to the quay where he had left Panicos and Spiro. He would have to talk to them.
‘Well?’ Panicos looked at him eagerly.
Yannis shook his head. ‘Antionis said we would have to build our own shelters. He said there were plenty of places that just needed repairing and cleaning up.’
‘Can he take us to them?’ asked Spiro eagerly.
‘He’s blind,’ said Yannis simply.
‘How long has he been blind?’
‘I don’t know; he doesn’t seem to know.’
‘So these buildings that he says can be repaired may no longer be standing! Who else could we ask?’
‘Why don’t we go and look?’ suggested Spiro.
‘Phaedra was going to show us the island today.’ Yannis looked round, hoping to see her. ‘Shouldn’t we wait for her?’
‘Why? I doubt that we’ll get lost.’
‘Let’s walk up to Kyriakos; we need to take him the water. She may be with him,’ suggested Yannis hopefully.
There was no sign of Phaedra so the three men continued up the path until it petered out to become a dirt track. Yannis did not mention that he had already explored that far. A projection of cliff appeared to bar their way, but as they reached it they looked down a steep, rocky bank that led to a catwalk, littered with stones and rocks. Yannis shuddered. No wonder Phaedra had been concerned. Had he fallen down there in the darkness he could well have ended up with broken bones. The path continued, a narrow track with sheer rock rising above them and also falling down to the sea below. There was nowhere that would be suitable to build and no signs that anyone had ever attempted to do so. The path curved again and as they rounded it Spiro stopped in surprise.
‘Well, who would have thought there would be a church round here.’
Set back into the hill, the path once more concreted and widening considerably, the church looked sad and neglected.
‘I’d like to go in. Will you wait for me?’
Without waiting for their answer Yannis walked to the door, which yielded under his touch, and he found himself in the bare interior. Leaving the door open he walked to where the altar would have been placed and fell on his knees. His jumbled thoughts could hardly have been described as prayers, but as he left he felt vaguely comforted and at ease. He smiled at his companions.
‘Shall we continue?’
The path became steeper and they passed a house, the roof had gone and most of the walls. ‘Built for the view!’ observed Panicos, as they looked out across the open sea and back to the bay, clearly visible on the mainland were the villages of Elounda, Olous and Plaka.
Yannis looked away. He did not wish to be continually reminded how close his home was. ‘What’s up there?’ He pointed to some steps, broken and overgrown with weeds, which led up to the outer wall of the fortress.
Silently they climbed upwards, passing heaps of rubble, the way becoming steeper once the steps petered out until they were climbing over slabs of granite rock to reach the heart of the fortress. A final large, slippery block brought them to the foot of a wall, far too high for them to climb. Cautiously Yannis edged his way forward until he saw a small opening and they were able to file through and stand on level ground. Around them the walls rose, almost undamaged over the years, but no vestige of a roof. Passing through an arch they looked on to the catwalk, which could be reached by a short flight of steep, stone steps. Beneath the walk itself were the shallow archways that had originally held the canons.
‘May as well go back.’ Panicos felt disheartened. He had hoped that part of the old fortress would be habitable. ‘You wouldn’t get much shelter up here.’
Yannis looked around. ‘Is there no way out from here? The Turks and Venetians wouldn’t have scrambled up the way we came to man the guns.’
‘The only way out would have been over there.’ Spiro pointed to a fallen archway and a tangle of masonry that barred their way.
‘Back we go then.’ Yannis began to negotiate the slippery granite to regain the path and ended up by sliding down. He held out his hand. ‘I don’t recommend that! It was painful. Come down as far as you can, then hold on to me.’
They retraced their steps and regained the main path, following it down to a small beach, sheltered on both sides by the wall of the fortress. Turning right they entered a tunnel and immediately began to choke at the smell that rose to their nostrils. Their eyes became accustomed to the gloom and they were able to step over and around the worst of the debris. Once outside they drew deep breaths of fresh air.
‘I will never, ever, shelter in that place, however desperate I might be,’ vowed Spiro.
They had exited into the little square where the water fountain was situated and looked at each other with sinking hearts.
‘So!’ Panicos let out his breath. ‘That is the extent of the island. No other water, no buildings, no shelter of any kind. Now we know why they live huddled together in that collection of ruins.’
‘There must be some other houses. We just haven’t found them,’ said Yannis stubbornly.
Spiro took a long drink from the water fountain. ‘I’m exhausted,’ he admitted. ‘All the exercise I’ve had in the last few years has been walking around the hospital ward. I’m going back to Kyriakos to have a sleep.’
‘Maybe some food has arrived,’ suggested Yannis hopefully. ‘I’m hungry.’
‘We’ll call in on the way.’
They made their way back to the storeroom and helped themselves to a variety of foods, eating as they walked back towards Kyriakos. Yannis tried to ask him about the buildings Antionis had mentioned, but Kyriakos only grunted and said ‘Ask Alecos’ before closing his eyes more firmly against the mid-day sun. Resigned, Yannis settled himself down to sleep along with his friends, forced to admit that his legs ached from the unaccustomed exercise.
He was unable to settle, the rhythmical breathing of the others annoyed him, rather than soothed and he finally gave up the attempt. He looked for the water jug, and found it w
as empty. He would have to walk to the fountain for a drink. Silently he left them and walked between the sleeping men and women who lined the path to the square. He slaked his thirst and wondered what to do, maybe if he went for a swim from the small beach it would ease his aching legs and he would be able to sleep.
Taking a deep breath he picked his way carefully through the gloom of the tunnel until he stood again in bright sunlight looking at the sea. The idea of a swim no longer seemed so attractive and he turned to the left, taking the path that led to the deserted church and pushed open the rickety door.
How long he spent on his knees with his hands clasped he did not know. The word ‘rebuild’ was hammering in his head, becoming Antionis’s voice saying, ‘You can rebuild’ and getting louder and stronger each time it was said. Involuntarily Yannis put his hands over his ears and shouted. ‘No!’
The voice seemed to answer more strongly than ever. ‘You can rebuild.’
‘I can’t! I can’t!’ Yannis rose and stumbled back out into the sunshine. He almost ran up the slight incline, only stopping and drawing his breath when the path narrowed dangerously. He walked more leisurely to the promontory and as he rounded it the village of Plaka came into view. The sight made a lump come into his throat and he looked around desperately. His experience in the church had unnerved him completely and he had no wish to return in that direction. He looked upwards. Just above his head the rock shelved. Placing his foot in a niche he pulled himself up and looked in surprise. Stretching out before him was a path, very narrow, which twisted and turned out of his sight between the scrub and bushes that clung precariously to the rock.
Cautiously Yannis moved forwards, climbing steadily, until the path suddenly widened into a flat rock and he was on the summit of the island. Below him stretched the Venetian fortress and many ruined buildings. He turned to face the open sea and watched the sunlight dancing on the ripples, trying hard to empty his head of the thoughts that were plaguing him. His legs were trembling with the unaccustomed exertion and he lay down on the hot rock and folded his hands beneath his head.
