The Gold Letter

by Lena Manta

  Chrysafenia welcomed him anxiously, afraid that something had happened, but he wore his best smile to put her at ease.

  “Smaragda is fine, Mrs. Sekeris, but I wanted to see you so that we could talk.”

  “Before you say anything else, I want to tell you how eternally grateful I am for the help you’ve given my child.”

  “Don’t even mention it. It was my pleasure to be able to help. Besides, I’m not completely unselfish,” he told her, his expression full of kindness.

  “What do you mean?” asked Chrysafenia, frowning now. “What do you want in exchange?”

  “Smaragda,” he replied, becoming suddenly serious as he began to explain. “Listen, Mrs. Sekeris, I love Smaragda. I’ve been in love with her for a long time, but knowing her feelings for the other fellow, I didn’t dare make a move. What’s more, to be honest, who was I to be worthy of her noticing me? I was poor, out of work, with émigré parents who sent me back to their homeland to see if I could make a life for myself. I won’t hide the fact that I’m getting ready to go back to them because there isn’t much future for me here.”

  Chrysafenia stood stock-still listening to him, and bolstered by her silence, he went on.

  “I know what’s going on, and I’m prepared to marry Smaragda and take responsibility for her child,” he said, delivering the coup de grâce.

  Now the woman took a deep breath.

  “Did she tell you?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Yes—well, not exactly, but from overhearing snatches of your conversation with her, I realized it, and when I pressed her a little, she confessed.”

  “And you want to marry her despite what you know?”

  “I already told you that I loved her long before this happened. What does it matter to me if she’s pregnant? She’s still Smaragda—the same girl I’m in love with. Naturally, I wish things had been different, but that’s the way it is. I’ll acknowledge the child, and I swear to you that I’ll look after it as if it were my own. Of course, there’s still my wretched financial state . . .”

  “Don’t worry about that. I have enough money of my own to support you. Perhaps, after the wedding, her father will soften a little since his honor has been preserved.”

  “Please, Mrs. Sekeris!” he interrupted her, pretending to be touched. “None of that interests me. And if I had a steady job, we wouldn’t even be discussing this now. But I’m out of work, and how could I manage things with a wife and baby . . . That’s why I came to speak to you.”

  “And Smaragda? Will she accept?”

  “I think she has no other option. I mean, since she has decided to keep the baby, she needs a father for her child and a husband. And seeing as I have your permission, I’ll talk to her today!”

  “And I’ll do the same with my husband, Mr. Karapanos—Renos, my son,” she corrected herself. “I hope everything happens as you wish!” she said, very moved, and put her arms around him.

  Nothing went as they wished, however. When Pericles asked around about his prospective son-in-law, what he learned made him furious.

  “How stupid can you females be!” Pericles shouted at his wife. “You think you can bring me around with this new bridegroom? And that hussy of a daughter of yours—how many men was she carrying on with so that she had a substitute ready? And what an arrogant fool he is! A bum who saw in you suckers a way out of his financial problems. Wherever he’s worked, they’ve fired him!”

  “That can’t be true!” she objected.

  “My information, Mrs. Sekeris, is quite precise! Do you know what they told me? The young man is riffraff! Violent, drunken, and lazy! And if he thinks I’ll accept him to cover my shame, he’s been fooled. He might marry her, but he’ll never be my son-in-law. Don’t speak to me again about this, Chrysi. And make sure you get your oldest daughter ready for her wedding. Papadakis is in a hurry.”

  Chrysafenia didn’t know what to believe. She was alone, unable to talk to anyone and get a second opinion. Her parents and her brother were very far away, trying to save a young girl from death, and she was struggling, with no help, not daring to reveal the whole truth to her husband.

  The next day, Smaragda agreed to marry Renos, and everything took its course. Chrysafenia gave her son-in-law a generous sum of money to take care of the wedding, and told Kali to give away her daughter. Later, every month, she carefully put aside what she could so that the couple could live.

  She dressed her daughter as a bride and tried to hold back her tears for the dreams she’d had of Smaragda’s wedding day back when she was first born, none of which had come true. When she saw her in the plain white dress with flowers in her hair and tears in her eyes, she embraced her, and with all the strength of her soul, she begged God to let her daughter be happy. She prayed that Renos would be a worthy husband to the beautiful spirit her daughter carried within her. They all left together for the small church they’d chosen for the wedding.

  While they were exchanging wedding wreaths, Pericles received Simos at his house. The young man charged in, and his former prospective father-in-law noticed that his eyes were dull with drink.

  “Mr. Sekeris, I want to see Smaragda!” he shouted. “I must speak to her and explain!”

  “Why don’t you explain to me first,” Pericles said, holding back his anger, “because when I went to your father’s house, he didn’t give me a clear answer. Were you or weren’t you with another woman in that apartment? Did she or didn’t she catch you in the act?”

  “I don’t love anyone else, Mr. Sekeris! I only love Smaragda, and I want to marry her! Nothing else matters. Please, let me speak to her!”

  “Young man, you’re too late! As we speak, Smaragda is getting married,” Pericles answered with an unpleasant smile.

  “Impossible! It’s ridiculous, a lie like that!”

  “You can go to the little church of Ayios Yorgos and see for yourself. What did you think? That she was waiting for you? The replacement was ready. Leave my house now because my patience has its limits!” Pericles said, raising his voice, but it wasn’t necessary.

  Opposite him, Simos looked as if he’d been shot. He left, staggering, and when he was alone, Pericles felt slightly satisfied. The larger satisfaction, the more unholy one, which he didn’t dare confess to himself, had to do with his wife. Vassilis and Chrysafenia wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing their children unite.

  Hecuba’s wedding took place, but it gave Chrysafenia no joy beyond the relief of getting the girl out of the house. She sent a letter to her parents in Switzerland, telling them instead about the good child, Smaragda, who’d found her Prince Charming. When Chrysafenia read the letter again before putting it in the envelope, it seemed ridiculous to her, but she could hardly go into the whole story when they were at the bedside of their sick grandchild. After a while, Melpo showed signs of recovery, and Chrysafenia’s brother was able to return and attend to his work. His manner was strange; he didn’t seem to believe her, whatever she said.

  “And who is this young man who married my niece in such a hurry?” Nestor said skeptically.

  “What can I tell you now? A young man who was in their circle. From what he told me, he loved her,” Chrysafenia explained, trying to look cheerful. “Do you remember Persa? He’s her cousin.”

  “And what work does he do?”

  “He’s looking for work, the poor fellow,” she said, trying to excuse him. “His parents are emigrants—they live in Germany. Besides, I haven’t told you the best part! Your niece is going to make me a grandmother soon. She’s pregnant!”

  Nestor sat up straighter, and set about cross-examining her. He was particularly concerned with his brother-in-law’s behavior. If Smaragda had married a good man, why did Pericles remain so unfeeling? Chrysafenia tried to blame it on his rigid character, but Nestor left unconvinced.

  Chrysafenia wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Instead of calming her, the months that passed, bringing the birth of the baby closer, made her more anxious.
Pericles’s words about their son-in-law came back into her mind again and again. Renos had made no effort to find work, but he had begun to drop hints about the money she gave them, saying it seemed meager. He persuaded her to talk to her husband and tell him to give them what they were entitled to. Chrysafenia searched her daughter’s expression to see how she was, but Smaragda lowered her eyes.

  Chrysafenia managed to see her grandchild and learn that the child shared her name shortly before she and her son were killed in a car crash. She had given him the wheel that cursed day. A sudden turn, a pedestrian who stepped out abruptly, and everything was over. Chrysafenia Sekeris and Stelios died almost instantaneously, and her last thought was for the daughter she was leaving almost alone. Renos was left with a wife and child to take care of without the help of his mother-in-law, and without fear of anything or anyone. The mask fell . . .

  In an attempt to find a solution to his financial problems, he dared, two months after the deaths that had struck his father-in-law’s house, to call on Pericles Sekeris and ask him for his daughter and granddaughter’s legal rights. He expected to find a man destroyed by grief, and therefore vulnerable, but instead he found a wild beast. As soon as Pericles heard his request, he charged forward and would have struck him had Fotini and Kali not intervened. With a great effort they managed to rein in his fury.

  “Get out of my house!” he roared loudly at the stunned Renos. “If you thought I’d pity you, you made a mistake. I don’t have a daughter called Smaragda. She died! Do you understand? Go drown yourself and the slut you took up with! Leave! Get lost!”

  Renos turned around and raced out of the house, while behind him Pericles was still shouting. He’d played and lost! He’d imagined the wealth of Sekeris in his hands, and now he was stuck with the man’s penniless daughter and her baby.

  CHAPTER 16

  Kypseli, 2016

  After Kali’s revelations, Melpo guided me into the house, and Karim ran to help us when he saw what a state we were in. I didn’t even remember leaving the retirement home. The woman had finished her story and found two women standing like statues in front of her, breathless, white with shock. I faintly remembered her bringing us a little water and a dessert we didn’t touch. Then my mind dimmed as all the things I’d found out refused to fit in my brain.

  We sat in the office. This little place had become a refuge—a crucible for confession and memories. But now we didn’t even have the courage to speak. Karim didn’t know what to do to bring us around and resorted to the obvious: sweets and coffee. Mechanically, we both took our first sip at the same time and lit cigarettes. I didn’t even realize I was crying until sobs shook my whole body. Melpo, sitting beside me, held my hand tightly.

  “Cry, sweetheart,” she advised me. “You have every reason.”

  “I don’t want to cry!” I shouted, but in vain; it was impossible to stop. “I want to go and beat Hecuba to death. I want to trample her. She destroyed so many lives. Like a domino that didn’t leave a single piece standing. Simos and my mother would have lived happily together, and I—”

  This time, together with the sobs, came a howl. It came from deep inside me and let my wounds bleed. But there was something else, a very small relief. At least that rapist monster wasn’t my father. What happened was still sick, naturally, but the same blood didn’t flow in our veins.

  “I’m the daughter of Simos Kouyoumdzis,” I said out of nowhere. “After all these generations, a Kantardzis woman is also a Kouyoumdzis.”

  “What are you going to do now, Fenia?” my forever practical aunt asked me.

  “I don’t know. Do you have any suggestions? Where is Simos today?”

  “That shouldn’t be difficult to find out.”

  “Yes, it’s what comes after that’s difficult.”

  Unconsciously, I touched the necklace at my throat. I turned to my aunt inquiringly.

  “Melpo, tell me the truth: How did this necklace come into your hands?”

  “When his sister, your grandmother Chrysafenia, was killed, my father came here and collected some of her personal belongings to keep as mementos. The gold letter was among them. I suspect that was the day the final rift was created between the two families. He gave it to me before he died. OK? You solved another of your mysteries. Today we learned so much that I don’t know if it was good for us. I’m still shaking. And I wonder at you! You got your composure back so quickly that I’m worried.”

  “What do you suggest, that I cry for days about something that can’t be changed?”

  “That would be more natural.”

  “My sweet, dear Melpo,” I began affectionately, “I’m not a young girl. I’ve seen and lived through a lot. At this moment, as much as I’d like to go and beat up my aunt, inside me there is a sense of relief. What I suffered wasn’t done to me by my father, but a stranger. I feel—I feel”—I searched for the word—“I feel lighter, Melpo! Mrs. Kali took my worst burden away from me. And I also feel numb. My whole life has been turned upside down. I’m the daughter of a person and not a beast. I was always afraid of his blood in my veins, and now I’m simply somebody else. Today’s revelations were like a transfusion.”

  “And now that you know, shall we find your real father? You can restore your mother’s memory. She didn’t betray him, she didn’t have a substitute ready—she thought she had to protect his child with this marriage. My poor Smaragda.” A tear rolled from Melpo’s eye.

  What happened next, my good aunt didn’t expect. I got up so suddenly that Tiger was startled, and with a long yowl he leaped and hid behind the armchair.

  “Let’s go!” I called out.

  “Where, my child?”

  “To Ermou Street. Isn’t that where the Kouyoumdzis family jewelry store is?”

  “Fenia, have you gone mad? It’s nighttime. It’ll be closed.”

  “That’s exactly why I want to go. Are you coming, or should I go by myself?” I was already at the door.

  Of course I wouldn’t have gone if there had been the slightest chance of finding someone at the store. I didn’t even know if the business still existed. Karim, who had come to call us for dinner, was afraid.

  “Madam!” he shouted. “Where are you going? What happened?”

  “Food later, Karim,” I said hurriedly, dragging Melpo by the hand.

  I was in a great hurry. Fortunately we found a taxi immediately, and the roads weren’t busy. It was a very hot summer, and the Athenians had been driven away. I asked the taxi driver to let us off at Syntagma Square, and arm in arm, Melpo and I marched down the central street of Athens. The shops were closed, but their windows were lit up, and everywhere there were signs advertising tempting sales. At each intersection, the bars were full of people. The scorching breath of day had given way to the cool of night. Candles on the tables cast a happy glow on smiling faces, and some couples exchanged kisses in the half-light. I quickened my step as my eyes scanned the street, and suddenly I stopped. In front of us, all lit up and very elegant, was the window of a jewelry store. Over the storefront was a sign. On it, ornately written, was the name KOUYOUMDZIS, and below it in smaller letters, SINCE 1955. With cowardly footsteps, as if I was doing something wrong, I approached and peered through the metal grating that protected the plate-glass windows. In the display cases were a few pieces of jewelry, certainly nothing of great value, since the valuable ones would be stored safely inside the store. I tried to imagine my father working here. Perhaps he was with his children.

  I felt Melpo’s tender hand on my shoulder.

  “All right now?” she asked. “Have you calmed down? Let’s go, and I’ll buy you a drink so we can relax.”

  The way I felt, it would have been impossible to go home anyway. We telephoned her husband, who arrived at a café a little later to keep us company. Melpo caught him up on what we had learned, and my uncle had to take a large gulp of the whiskey he had been sipping.

  “Now I’ve heard everything!” he exclaimed.

 
; “Do you understand what evil my witch of a cousin did?” Melpo burst out.

  “Excuse me, but your uncle wasn’t far behind! Stubborn and nasty. Pericles was always like that!” Paschalis responded. “He threw his child out and disowned her because she went against him. What if he’d found out about the pregnancy?”

  “He would have killed her.”

  “What a shame!” he murmured sadly and ordered another drink. “If everyone had just spoken honestly—forgive me for saying so, but your aunt Chrysafenia was also at fault, Melpo.”

  “There were a lot of mistakes,” his wife agreed. “Some were out of evil, and some were out of an attempt to do good. My poor aunt thought she was doing the best she could for her child.”

  “If she’d done the simplest thing, maybe all the rest would have worked out,” I joined in. “If she’d gone to find Vassilis herself—”

  “We’re making a fundamental mistake,” Paschalis interrupted. “We’re judging what happened from today’s point of view. Chrysafenia was raised to believe that a woman doesn’t have a say. And her husband certainly agreed—wasn’t Pericles a supporter of the junta? Let’s not forget their slogan was ‘Fatherland, religion, family.’ Whoever deviated from the virtuous path was thrown into the gorge on Mount Taygetus, like the Spartans did with unwanted children. These days, a child born out of wedlock doesn’t provoke disgust in anyone, or even surprise. Then, it was different. And by today’s standards, Simos, the poor fellow, was just a boy. Their reactions may seem excessive now, but at the time the actions took place, they were completely normal. The question is, what now? What will you do, Fenia?”

  “What do you suggest?” I asked him.

  “The only logical thing. Go and find your father and tell him who you are. He has the right to know he has a child by Smaragda.”

  “What’ll come of that?”

  “You’ll find out.”

  “Why should he believe me and not think I’m lying to try and take over his fortune?”