Dawn had already broken and the goats were impatient, getting on everyone's nerves. Sunlight streamed in through the door onto the table where we ate our breakfasts, unable to lift our faces towards little Mikri's grave.
'We cannot let him down. Little Mikri might be watching us this very moment. Let's remember him today.' And so, we'd send him love and warmth as we made our preparations and disguises beneath a lingering cloud of sadness.
'All set then Boss? We're with you,' those words told me they really were together, and had been since they were kids.
'With me? Why me! I'm no leader. I can't lead,' I said abruptly. They shot each other glances and busied themselves stuffing their backpacks. My sharpness showed how much this whole thing was getting to me and made it obvious I was filled with anxiety and fear.
We set off without a clue as to what we'd find in Faria but it was much more serious than we could've imagined. For the first half mile we trudged in sombre mood, the others too scared to speak in case I snapped again. I felt bad. It wasn't their fault I was jealous. It was a long time since I'd had a girlfriend, not that I'd been trying too hard, but sometimes I felt isolated when I saw couples having fun and all I could do was bury my head in a book and feel sorry for myself. After Daphne, I'd closed the door on relationships and as long as the sun shone then blinked and shone again, I thought I was satisfied. I'd live my life and be patient and remain alone and read - then Ebby gave me that lecture in the garden.
We picked our way in single-file; Alexis leading, bow-legged, and me at the back, pigeon-toed. The more we entered his wilderness home amongst these natural meadows of lushness with their chestnut and cherry trees standing guard, the more he relaxed and began shouting sudden 'whoopas' and slapping his thigh and asking questions of the goats and pointing to things that weren't even there. He made us laugh again and again. When Alessandra passed me her water I smiled my thanks, but on the verge of gloom like a naughty boy who's been forgiven with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
The gradual climb along the road through the pass soon had my tortured calves in a vice. Another hour and centaurs had one each between their teeth. We had to keep stopping for me to massage my legs which gave Alessandra plenty of opportunity to tease, although she did agree it wasn't an easy trek, 'Wait till we're going down through the gorge, it's worse than going up.'
Without local knowledge it was impossible to interpret the land and that made it so much easier to become lost - which was the most probable reason my father chose this route when they were fleeing from the fires - yet Alexis had no problem and kept our spirits up leading us through a maze of beautiful woods and dense tangled thickets along the way. There was one sobering moment when we came to a trampled clearing where stalks and weeds were flattened and the sandy soil was stained with a mess of dried blood, we fell silent and strode on without reference. Our poor animals became uneasy and strayed and seemed to sense there was danger there, but all in all they kept themselves together. Despite my aching legs I surprised myself as to how much I adapted once I found my pace,
I'd glanced at the make-over just before we left and had to admire the skill. My face, they'd painted beige to disguise my pinkening complexion, likewise my hands. Maria donated a bandana to wear beneath a large straw hat from Manolis and some authentic leggings and a smock but, I have to be honest, my boots were from Millets.
We crossed meadows threaded by rills of sparkling water and stumbled along tracks that seemed never ending, stopping every now and then on the hills and only then at my insistence. At last we came to the narrow channel between Stephanos and Faria. No more than three or four metres and, according to our guide, no more than a metre deep in fine weather. I turned to stone.
Alexis gave me a choice. 'Don't worry boss, if you want, you can wade across with us, it will barely reach your chest, or you can hold on to a goat when they begin to swim, you choose.' They were trying to keep straight faces, trying not to laugh but already I'd made up my mind. We threw our boots and bags over onto the pontoon bridge along with our hats and smocks and looked into the water. It looked back.
'Ready, boss?'
'Ready.'
'OK. One, two...' And I jumped.
'... three.'
The water was a shock. Ice on my spine. I caught my breath, Alessandra squealed like a little girl and Alexis cut through the calm water like a flashy dolphin. My wading was just about adequate to get me to the other side though I was shivering and breathless when we climbed up the narrow bank. I just threw my body down, puffing and panting onto the pebbles of Faria.
Alexis had some blankets stashed under a bush and threw us one each, 'You OK, boss? You look all in. You have to be careful, the water's not too deep but there are strong currents.'
'Thank you Alexi, thank you,' I gasped, 'but there's no need to make excuses. I'm out of condition that's all.'
'Apart from jumping to conclusions, don't you get any exercise at all?'
'Very funny, Alessandra, just give me another minute. I'll be fine.'
Alexis wasted no time and began chivvying the goats on ahead but then he turned and smiled. 'Hey Boss? You know what I think? I think, “bravo boss”.' He clucked at the goats and they followed him onto the plateau.
'Hey, boss? You know what I think?' Alessandra clucked too. 'Nice bum.'
That sheltered side of the island was an enchanted landscape of grazing-grounds and willow trees and the surest way to know such a place is through the soles of the feet. Alexis knew it from walking with Pantelis, and my father learned it from walking with his father, and so on. How many had taken that route, I wondered, and over how many years?
I wandered well off the track left in the grass by the other two, feeling and stroking the boulders as I passed, sometimes a long way behind but happy, whistling, and sometimes even singing in an absent-minded way; a lad again with nothing to rush home after school for, and a long time before tea.
At times the landscape seemed bleak and then I'd come upon the plane trees and they were different from the others. They had a kind of wizened delicacy like the beauty of some of the old people I'd seen in the villages. I picked up some soil and smelled it - resin and eucalyptus! My soil-collector friend would be fascinated. It was arid and gritty, mixed in with bits of flint and twigs; there was even a pistachio shell. Now who spat that out? I shoved it in my pouch with the soil.
Watching Alessandra enjoying the clouds as she strode on in front made me ignore any further nonsense from my calves and concentrate on that stepped and steady climb. When at last I caught up with the others, they were on the lip of a wide plateau of sandy rock and there, emerging from the wiry scrub, stood a tidy cluster of stubborn ruins and dry stone walls that seemed determined to stand forever.
The other two strode on, tumbling rocks and squashing sage and thyme beneath their boots whereas I had to keep stopping to take in my surroundings. Once, catching my breath, I rested my hands on my knees and looked down at my boots. A single drip of sweat dropped from my chin and exploded onto the dusty old toe cap in a tiny dark star. I was very far from the library now.
Alexis had stopped too. He was pointing to a largish, flat-topped dwelling out a little to one side of the buildings, a relic from some older way of life. Then, as if to make my hair stand on end, it took just one word, ‘Barbarossa!'
Except for its single story, the ground it covered was about the same as Pani's villa. We stepped over the threshold and through the doorway with its weathered wooden uprights and down a short, narrow passage that opened into the usual general-purpose space. Just as he'd said, above our heads in the corner, someone had made a chimney by fixing a terra-cotta jar into the corner of the ceiling and breaking away the base so the smoke could find its way outside. And on a wall in a smaller room were faded painted traces of dark fat grapes and twisting in through the window, grey old straying twists of some very lively jasmine, and even wild rosemary. I pictured food in the pot and someone, perhaps the cook from his ship, wiping down the wooden table then shaking out the cloth through the window - not realising he was scattering seeds. Almost five hundred years later we find the plants strong and wild, thriving in his kitchen garden.
There was no absolute evidence that Barbarossa had ever lived there except for a doodle on the wall of the galley kitchen and underneath someone had graffitied deep into the stone, the initials 'AB' and what may have been 1500-and something. It's true according to historical evidence Aruj Barbarossa was the eldest of two pirate brothers and they had ravaged the Mediterranean in the 16th century, but any romantic could have passed the time with such a scrawl. Nevertheless, I said nothing of my scepticism to Alexis who seemed well pleased with my scrutiny so I thanked him for allowing me to see the home of this terrible legend.
Up there on the plateau a cool wind was building and soon it was time to leave the goats to graze for a couple of days. We filled their troughs with ample grain before setting off down through the treacherous and silent gorge toward the lagoon, but not before we emptied a bottle of water and shared a bag of baklava and biscuits in the pirate's garden.
'Do you know how these tomb-raiders find a tomb?' Alessandra asked us as we crunched, 'They make a metal rod about a metre long - you can't buy them so you have to make them - they cut a slice into it like a corkscrew, which gathers the earth, so you can tell if it's tomb earth or not. Then they take the rod and go for a walk. To those who can read the land, tomb sites are visible enough: the grass may be drier, because of the empty space underneath and in winter, the snow might look different. Anyway, once they've located a potential site, they probe the ground with the metal rod until they find nothingness. This may mark the entrance, or dromos as it is known, to an underground tomb. They find it by daylight then come back at night. They don't use torches because of the authorities and they use about five men because the work is hard. They make a hole and leave it for twenty-four hours so that the atmosphere can adjust. Then it's simply a case of dig and grab!'
'Are you showing off, Alessandra?'
'I wouldn't know how. Anyway, this is common knowledge; well, common to anyone who wastes time in the Antonis. The trouble is for every vase that appears on the market, there could have been dozens more that get damaged or abandoned.'
'Madness,' Alexis spat.
The old river course was nothing more than a deep and arid notch in the landside giving no shade at all but on we crunched, stumbling over tricky stones and gradually it grew less steep but with more boulders. We sloped through the pass, from time to time tantalized by a vision of the cerulean pure wet sea, deep and gleaming in the distance. No boat in sight. How delicious our goal looked from where we paused to fan ourselves desperate for the slightest breeze. The boulders turned to rocks and it wasn't long before we were in our stride, ever dropping down and down through that slit in the land, like kids on a school trip chattering about all the nonsense in our lives, down and down toward the little chapel on the beach.
'According to legend, somewhere in this gorge is an oracle where our ancestors came and sought council or prophetic predictions as to what their future held.'
'Did it work?' I asked.
'Well, sometimes it did, depending on how it was interpreted. Anyway, people gave it their trust.'
'Have you ever looked for it, Alexi?'
'Oh, I don't have to look. I know where it is.' And he stopped, 'It's right here.' He was pointing to a trickle of muddy water leaking from between two boulders into a mossy puddle moistening the roots of a self-conscious adolescent pine tree.
'Doesn't look much, does it?' I sniffed.
'Hey, have some respect. I'm serious. If you want to get some help you have to be respectful. This is just to show you where it is - in case you ever need it.'
During the rest of our holy procession we spoke very little and saw not a living thing except for an ominous pair of vultures circling high in the slow blue sky and being the juiciest things around, we began to feel rather exposed.
'Do you think they'll draw attention to us if anyone's scouting about?' Alessandra took the words right out of my mouth.
'Don't worry. There's nothing unusual about vultures scouring the land for prey. They'd ignore them.' said Alexis.
And then, just where our view was hidden by the biggest boulder of all, the track grew less steep. It followed the base of a plug that might well have blocked our way had it fallen a little more toward the wall. At eye level, through a well-worn avenue between some old twisted trees, we could see the flat of a beach and we knew we had arrived. At last our glorious trek was over. My hands stroked the old, old stones bordering the ruins of the basilica of Agia Melina and by climbing on one at my feet I was able to look over the walls at the proud white marble columns still upright in the grounds. We stopped to drink water and Alexis was already taking his boots off and pouring sand and pebbles out, cursing and sweating in the dust. Our pace quickened for the final thrust and so we raced, slipping and sliding through scattered sun-bleached tree bark, fragments of branches and odd pieces of driftwood that littered the stony ground until we were close enough to resist it no longer. Whooping and laughing, we fell into the pure rare richness of that little lagoon.
I rolled onto my stomach, allowing the water to wash and revive me, pulling myself forward over the pebbles like a lizard, sliding down into the water past the boulders, keeping as near to the bottom as I could and then turning, and looking skyward through sparkling shafts of sunlight beaming through my open fingers. My skin looked brown and lifeless. I wanted fish to lie in my opened palm, but of course they never would. Sun's rays picked out tiny flecks of plankton and algae, planets in timeless space, and then the sound of my body breathing was the only sound. I floated in the comfort of this smooth, luminous primeval liquid, looking at the patterns and the shifting net of sunlight underneath, and the sand way down below, ecstatic in the thrill of being aware of simple existence in a universe without change. I was home, safe, floating in the womb of my mamma and I was me - a part of it all. All the terror and the rest could wait.
With renewed strength, we scrambled back up the beach like apprenticed Argonauts and lay on the shingle in our saturated rags laughing and choking and drowning in the fresh air. Then as if from nowhere, above us floated a cloud of tiny, mad, dusty blue butterflies flirting and fluttering over the sand to entertain us. It was surreal and we lay still and watched in wonder at them billowing and flopping above and about us till they wafted out of sight.
Alexis stood and bowed low, 'Thank you. Thank you little friends, for the pines over there, the stones, the clear water and the dear fresh air. We promise to take care of your dreamy beach,' and we sprinkled a round of applause. 'You know boss, the butterflies make me think about our Mikri. Maybe they came to carry away his spirit, away to play. Bad Mercouri is asking for trouble. To take a life like that, it diminishes us all. We're all responsible. Some people think we can kill whatever we want.'
'I know. It's been on my mind too. Listen everyone, maybe we should keep our voices low, just in case,' I said at last.
'You're right, although I don't think they're here today. I checked with Nikos and the yacht is moored at Dorini undergoing overhaul and restocking supplies. He's angry because they're disturbing the kalamari and the fish.' Aless raised her eyebrows, 'He thinks they're preparing for a jaunt.'
'Nikos thinks they are sailing to Turkey and will be gone for a few days. It's a pity we don't know for definite.'
'Well, usually when they come here, they come at dawn and go at dark, or stay at night and leave before first light. You know their boat is strong, they disregard the weather.'
'Tomorrow is supposed to be calm so they won't call in here on their way out, will they?' asked Alessandra.
'Well, they might, but why should they? No, the earliest they turn around will be three days.' Alexis suggested. 'Three days. I bet that's when the Etesian comes and no one sails. But one thing is sure - it won't stop that damn boat.'
With a fire crackling happily to itself, we sat down for some of Alexis' cooking.
'This is rather tasty, Alexi. You're quite a cook.'
Alexis investigated his dish with a finger. 'I know. I think it might be porridge. It's made from some goat food and their milk. I'm glad it's not too sour.'
But Alessandra was not so sure. 'What are the crunchy black shiny bits?'
'Crunchy black shiny bits? What crunchy black shiny bits?' He cleaned his empty plate in some sand, 'Crunchy black shiny bits. Bah.'