The Darkest Hour

by Roberta Kagan

  We looked at each other and smiled. The mention of Ellie’s husband gave me the opportunity to ask the question about Angelos I had wanted to ask since Ellie rescued me in the forest.

  “Where is Angelos?” I poured myself some wine and filled Ellie’s cup.

  “Ah, that question,” Ellie said and went on to drink from her cup. We didn’t say anything for a few more minutes. She leaned back against the cabin wall and closed her eyes. “When the Germans attacked, the British were nowhere to be found. They were elsewhere, and it was left to our Greek army to try and keep the beasts at bay. We lost the battle.”

  “Was Angelos with the army?”

  “He was with a small band of soldiers that fell back. They didn’t surrender and kept on fighting. They had help from surrounding villagers, and I also joined in the fight. We reached Mount Olympus, but the Germans kept on coming.”

  “Was Angelos killed in battle?”

  “No.” Ellie took a sip. “That would have been better for him.”

  “Getting killed in battle is never a better option.”

  Ellie shook her head. I should have censored myself, but I can’t do that with my favorite cousin. I’ve always been honest and direct with her. I hurt her by my words.

  “Angelos wished he had died in battle, but he was captured. He had told me to run to Kozani, where the British were holding out, but the British were not at Kozani; it was a ruse to get me and the other women who were fighting with the men to safety.”

  “He truly lived up to his name.”

  “Angel by name, angel by character. Angelos was the most courageous man I have ever met. When the Germans captured them, they were sent to a POW camp. Aunty Stella and I visited him just one time. I brought him some food and stayed with him until we had to leave. My beloved died soon after, and I lost my best friend. He is with the Lord in heaven.”

  Ellie’s tears tore at my heart, and we hugged each other. The loss of Angelos robbed her of her joy. I knew they loved each other the way my parents did. That kind of love is hard to find. I was eleven years old when Ellie told me she was getting married to a young man from Thessaloniki. Ellie was seventeen and didn’t need to bother with an eleven-year-old cousin, but she came over to where I was drawing by the river. She told me all about Angelos, and he also came down to meet me. I felt special that they would do that just for me. Ellie always made me feel special.

  “Did you sit Shiva?”

  Ellie looked at me, and I wondered if I had said the wrong thing. Maybe she didn’t perform the Jewish mourning prayer. “I’m sorry, Ellie. I had forgotten you don’t worship the Jewish God.”

  “The Jewish God and the Christian God are one and the same.”

  “I thought you believed in the Goddess, like Aunty Stella.”

  Ellie smiled at me for the first time since she had started talking about Angelos. “I do that to appease the parts of our family that think I have betrayed my Orthodox faith.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “No, bigotry and stupidity never make sense. They are used to Aunty Stella’s Goddess faith now, and they think it’s harmless. God is not female, so they are amused rather than angry.”

  “Is Aunty Stella a Jew as well?”

  Ellie chortled. “My goodness, the thought of Stella being Jewish would be more than the Rabbi could handle. No, she really does believe in a Goddess. Stella is a true pagan unlike me, who just pretends to appease some in the family.”

  “No wonder they call her crazy Stella.”

  “I don’t think that’s the reason, but Stella likes the name. She told me that if I wanted the fanatical members of the family—”

  “Uncle Dion, the coward, and Grandfather Dimitri are the ones that come to mind.”

  “Yes, they were the ones more comfortable with me being a pagan than a Jew. I chose to make them believe I was a pagan. My parents and my brothers knew why I converted and accepted it.”

  “Can I ask you a question? Why do Uncle Dion and others don’t have a problem with Stella being a pagan, but they have a problem with you being a Jew?”

  “The answer to that question, Zoe, is steeped in history, bigotry, and hate. The Jews have been despised everywhere they settle. They need a country of their own, and I think that place is located in our spiritual home—the promised land.”

  “Home? You were born in Larissa. You are home.”

  Ellie took the wineskin and poured herself some more wine. I declined because I wanted to discover the answer to my question. I couldn’t do that if I had more than one cup of wine.

  “Home is not the place where you are born. Home is where your heart is. Where is home for you?”

  I was going to say Farsala, but that wasn’t right. It wasn’t Athens either, even though I wanted to go and study there. Where was my home? Ellie reached out and held my hand. I didn’t know where my heart was.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You do know. Aunty Helena told me that ever since the Australian soldiers stayed at the farm, you wanted to be around them. When you recognized Barry as being an Australian, I saw your face. Your eyes lit up like a million bright stars. You know where your heart is.”

  “I’ve never been to Australia, so how do I know that’s where I want to go?”

  “Your heart knows. I’ve never been to the Holy Land, but I know that is where I want to go. When the war is over, that is where my heart will lead me.”

  “I’m not an Australian, Ellie, and you’re not really Jewish.”

  “Oh my, this is the first time you have surprised me. My grandmother was a Jewess from Thessaloniki.”

  “I know Grandmother Elisavet came from Thessaloniki, but you are wrong about her being a Jewess. She was Michael’s godmother, and they have to be Orthodox for that.”

  “Grandmother Elisavet converted to Christianity when she married my grandfather Stavros. Being Jewish is not washed away when someone converts to another faith. I’ve always been Jewish, so have all my brothers and my mother.”

  To be honest, I was taken by surprise. I didn’t know any of it. How was it possible I didn’t know? “Are you sure?” I sure hope that didn’t sound as stupid as I thought it was. I looked up at Ellie, who was smiling.

  “Yes, I’m sure. How do you feel about the news I’m Jewish and not pagan?”

  That had to be the strangest question anyone had asked me. I was more annoyed by something else entirely, which I didn’t want to give voice to. “I don’t care.”

  “Yes, you do. You were surprised that I was not a pagan. I could see it in your eyes.”

  I sighed. “It’s not that you are a Jew. It’s because you are a Jew.”

  “Can you explain that to me?”

  “I’m surprised because I kept sending you drawings of a Goddess in the woods and you didn’t say that it was wrong in your religion to worship a Goddess! I know it’s forbidden because Father Haralambos told us about the Ten Commandments.”

  “You shall have no other gods before Me.”

  “That’s not the bad part. You shall not make idols is the second one, and I was sending you idols to worship! I drew all sorts of pagan symbols! I was drawing something detestable in your religion!” The look on Ellie’s face showed that my hands were being a little too overly dramatic, and I was quite sure even the Italians in the valley could hear me.

  Ellie stood up and pulled me towards her. “I love you, Zoe Lambros! You are unique in this world, my sister.” She almost lifted me off the ground. “I adore you for being you.”

  “Who else would I be?”

  Ellie laughed and shook her head in apparent amazement that I was me. It made me smile, but I was still worried about the drawings I had sent her.

  “What did you do with the drawings?”

  “I kept the ones of the animals, but the Goddess I gave to Stella.” Ellie reached into her satchel, and I was expecting her to take out one of the drawings of the animals. She unfolded the paper. It was one of mine, because
I had written ZL on the back in the corner and I could see my initials.

  Ellie stared at the paper for a long time before she gave it to me. I took it, and my heart skipped a beat. Staring back at me was Angelos’s smiling face. His blonde curly hair and beautiful dark blue eyes. His eyes crinkled on the edges and the smile was genuine. I adored him because he loved my favorite cousin and he was a good man. I remember drawing that when I was helping my father and Uncle Petros on the farm. I felt an overwhelming need to cry, but I didn’t want to make Ellie upset as well.

  “I keep that with me always. It’s the only picture I have of my Angelos.”

  “I can draw you some more. I will do one tonight.”

  “We need to sleep…”

  “It won’t take me long, and I know the perfect picture to draw. I remember stuff, Ellie.”

  Ellie chuckled and nodded. “You certainly have been blessed, ZoZo. I will go inside and prepare our beds.” She got up from her log and kissed me on the forehead before she went inside the cabin.

  “Ellie, why did Mama not want me to be at the farm today?”

  Ellie stopped. She didn’t turn around for a few moments. When she did, she had an odd expression on her face that I couldn’t decipher. “‘For it is not an enemy who taunts me— then I could bear it; it is not an adversary who deals insolently with me— then I could hide from him. But it is you, a man, my equal, my companion, my familiar friend.’ We are dealing with a collaborator, Zoe.”

  “In the family?”

  “Why do you ask that?”

  “Before I left, Mama and Uncle Petros behaved like I had a dream and you didn’t rescue me last night, and everyone was present.”

  Ellie’s face creased in a wry smile. “Nothing escapes your notice, does it?”

  “Well, it was odd.”

  “Yes, it is family. A betrayer with the blood of a brother on his hands.”

  “It was Angelos that was betrayed, wasn’t it?” I stood up. “Someone betrayed him? He was already at POW…what was left to betray?”

  “Angelos didn’t look like a Jew, and the Germans didn’t suspect him. He was just another soldier. When the Germans found out he was a Jew, they took him out of the POW camp and executed him.”

  I heard the words, I understood them, but they hit me as if someone had gutted me with a sharp-edged knife. I never expected to hear that someone from my family would betray one of our own. Never. We had our own Judas. I couldn’t name who it could be because it was too difficult for me to comprehend. I gazed into Ellie’s eyes, which glistened as the light hit them.

  “Who is it?”

  “Andreas.” Ellie’s voice broke, and all I could do was stare at her dumbfounded by the revelation. Her older brother’s son was the collaborator. Blood betraying blood. In my opinion, the penalty for betrayal is death. No matter who it is. I turned away from Ellie and strode quickly to the boulder and picked up my crossbow. I hadn’t taken two steps towards the path when Ellie took hold of me and lifted me off the ground.

  “Let me go!” I screamed at her and tried to get out of the tight grip she had on me.

  “No! You are not going back to the farm.”

  “I’m going to execute that son of a bitch myself.” I was enraged that someone who had been shown love and compassion by the man he betrayed was one of my family. “Let me go!”

  Ellie was a strong woman, much stronger than I was, and she dragged me into the cabin and slammed the door shut. She barred the door with her body and folded her arms. “This is not your fight.”

  “STOP SAYING THAT! You keep saying ‘it’s not your fight,’ but when will it be my fight? When do I stand up and fight?”

  “I will tell you tomorrow. You will have a mission, Zoe. I promise you will, and it will be important. Do you believe me?”

  “I want to believe you.”

  “Have I ever lied to you?”

  “No.”

  “I’m not lying to you now. What is going on at the farm is not your concern. Yes, you are enraged by this betrayal. I know how much you loved Angelos, and he loved you too. I know what honor, respect, and family mean to you. Did you ask yourself why I’m not at the farm?”

  “Why aren’t you there?”

  “My father told me not to be there. He is the head of the family. I wanted to be there, I wanted to execute the bastard who betrayed my Angelos, but I’ve been given an assignment. Good soldiers follow orders.”

  “Babysitting the infant is your assignment?”

  Ellie pushed herself off the door and came up to me. “You are not an infant. You are our secret weapon, Zoe. Everyone is given a role to play. I want you to calm down and focus.”

  “Oh, I’m focused.”

  “No, I don’t want you to focus on how to get past me and get to the farm. You are a soldier. You must follow orders.”

  “What if I don’t want to follow those orders?”

  “What would your heroine Laskarina do?”

  I took a deep breath and found myself trying to figure out if I could outrun Ellie, but her eyes never left me. “Laskarina would follow orders.”

  “Do I have your word? A promise is a promise, Zoe.”

  “You have my word.”

  “Good. We have a lot to discuss tomorrow. Let’s go to bed.”

  “No. I want to go outside and draw. I’m too angry to sleep.”

  Ellie put her arm around me and kissed me on the head. “Goodnight, and don’t sleep outside.”

  I nodded and made my way out of the cabin. I looked back and wondered how Ellie coped with the realization the man she loved had been betrayed by her nephew. A gentle breeze rustled the trees and flipped open my sketchbook. I wasn’t going to create just one drawing. I was going to draw so many, Ellie would need a whole satchel to hold them.

  Chapter 13

  I lay in bed looking up at the ceiling. It was still dark, and the wind rattled the shutters. A tree branch was sliding back and forth against the cabin, and it only made me angrier. I had little sleep—my thoughts on Angelos and the traitor consumed me. I vowed I would never utter that contemptable bastard’s name again. The previous night my art reflected my mood, and I threw away the pieces that I had drawn of the traitor with his head cut off. Accidentally, I also threw away my favorite pencil, much to my disgust. I don’t do my best work when I’m angry, and I certainly can’t do it without my pencil. I eventually focused enough to draw my favorite memory of Angelos and Ellie on their wedding day using the other pencil in my pack. It’s a cruel God that rips apart that kind of love. A brutal, angry God that I have come to despise.

  Ellie’s faith in God is still active. I don’t understand how or why. The Jewish God is different from the Christian God. While I was muttering to myself and throwing things, Ellie had been up and waited until I came inside so she could sleep. When I finally entered the cabin, I found that Ellie had given me the bed and she had set a flokati rug for herself on the floor. Once we were both settled, she bolted the door shut. Her gun lay near her head, and if required, she would be up and ready. Not that anyone would be walking up the path in the middle of the night, and if they did, they would be blown asunder.

  I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t sleep. Ellie started to pray, and I wondered why she bothered. I didn’t ask her.

  The morning was the same, and nothing had changed overnight. Another day of this horrific war. What horrors would it bring? Would we be alive to see the sunset? I never used to be so melancholy, but the longer this war dragged on, the worse I got.

  Reluctantly, I got out of bed and opened the shutters. It was a gray, drab morning. A dense fog shrouded the horizon. The weather matched my mood. The smell of impending rain used to make me sigh with contentment because it would mean lazy days where I could draw. Now it just makes me angry because I would have to slog through the mud puddles that would fill my shoes. I can’t stand the sound of mud squishing between my toes. I watched Ellie from the window and felt stupid for even thinking how much I hat
ed muck. She has lost her beloved husband, and not once have I heard her complain. She asked God for strength to endure. There’s a special place in heaven for people like Elisavet.

  I watched her sitting on the edge of the lookout, her feet dangling over the side. How long had she been out there? I decided that I needed some company before I became a crotchety old woman. Ellie turned when she heard the door open and smiled at me.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “I kept dreaming about killing the traitor.”

  “The traitor is already dead.”

  “If they buried him in the grove, I’m going to unbury him and haul his carcass across the valley and up this mountain.”

  Ellie must have found that amusing because I could see she was trying valiantly not to laugh. The corners of her mouth twitched.

  “I’m serious, Elisavet!”

  “Oh, I know you are, because you used my full name and you had your serious face on.”

  We looked at each other and smiled. I could never stay angry with anything when Ellie was around. I had missed her so much.

  “I have this mental image of you hauling the traitor’s fat body all the way up Athena’s Bluff, and it’s amusing.”

  “I would do it, and have you wondered why, while everyone is starving and looking like skeletons, this gargantuan oaf was fat? Who stays fat in a famine?”

  “I haven’t spent any time thinking why he was fat. I’m curious, what would you do once you got him up here?”

  “Chop his head off, set fire to him, and throw him off the mountain.”

  “Would that ease your grief?”

  I paused for a moment and shook my head. “He doesn’t deserve to be buried on Lambros sacred ground.”

  “A cemetery is not sacred ground, Zoe.”

  “It is to me. Heroes are buried there. He doesn’t deserve to be buried with heroes. He deserves to be eaten by dogs.”

  "Doesn’t do any good. My angel is still dead.”

  I sat down and joined her on the edge of the lookout. “God is cruel.” I didn’t mean to blurt that out, but it came out of my mouth, and there was nothing I could do about it.