The Necklace of Goddess Athena

by Effrosyni Moschoudi

  Ksenia shook her head. “We have no other family. But we had Mrs. Anna in the house at the time. She took care of us during the first few weeks before Mrs. Sofia took over in raising us.”

  “Who is Mrs. Anna?” asked Phevos.

  “A very kind lady who used to live upstairs,” answered Manos. Over the years, he had learned from his sister all the sparse details that she remembered from those days.

  “Yes, she was indeed a lovely lady, who used to rent the upstairs rooms at the time.”

  “What? Your bedroom upstairs, you mean?” asked Daphne.

  “There was a second bedroom also, which is a storeroom now. There’s also a small bathroom up there,” Ksenia explained.

  “And she lived on her own?” asked Phevos.

  “She used to live up there with her husband at some point. According to Mrs. Sofia they were close friends with my parents. I don’t recall any of that, but I do remember her after she was widowed.”

  “Her husband died?” asked Phevos.

  “Yes. Poor Mrs. Anna! She had such an aura of sadness about her! She didn’t smile often, but her heart was full of love. I still remember how she held me in her arms to comfort me as I cried when our parents were gone. She had such a good heart! I don’t remember her husband, but I have the impression she loved him dearly. She seemed lost without him. I think the short time she spent taking care of Manos and me was good for her. It helped her put aside her own loss for a while. When Mrs. Sofia moved in to take care of us, Mrs. Anna went away to make a new life for herself. That’s what Mrs. Sofia explained to us. She said she needed to move on and leave the pain behind. She’d lost her husband recently, and all these tragic incidents in our house had become too much for her to bear.

  “Oh, how terrible! Imagine fostering two children while mourning for your husband and worrying over two friends as well!” burst out Daphne.

  “She sounds like a wonderful person. Where does she live now?” asked Phevos.

  “All I know is that she moved out of Athens. I haven't seen her ever since she left,” replied Ksenia.

  “It’s so strange about your parents! Just like my mother I guess . . . How do people disappear like that? Didn’t Mrs. Anna or Mrs. Sofia know anything to tell you?”

  “My parents vanished without a trace. Neither of the women who took care of us ever passed on any information. Mrs. Sofia wasn’t even here at the time. She was in Corfu at her sister’s, who was terminally ill. I expect that if Mrs. Anna knew anything about their disappearance she would have said. On the contrary, she never spoke about it. It must have been too painful for her.”

  Their high spirits had dampened because of the discussion, and Ksenia jumped to her feet, determined to do something quick to shift the mood. She got out a board game, one of Manos’s favorites, and they all welcomed the chance to have some fun. Soon enough, the sitting room filled with shrieks of joy and playful banter. When they had enough, Phevos and Ksenia engaged in excited conversation about the work required at the orchard.

  Manos was leaning on Daphne, who had a tender arm wrapped around him. They were seated on the couch, leafing through a photo album Manos produced from a drawer at the bottom of the china cabinet. They were photos of Ksenia and Manos as well as Mrs. Sofia from the recent years when they were under her care.

  When she turned another page, Daphne gasped, causing the others to whip their heads around. Her eyes were open wide at the sight of a single photo. Dazed, she turned her head, her eyes seeking Phevos. She looked ashen, as if she’d seen a ghost.

  “What is it, Daphne? Are you all right?” asked Phevos putting an arm around her. Her eyes were burning like fire in the pale desert of her face. She looked so frail, as if she were about to faint.

  Manos and Ksenia jumped to their feet and stared, their expressions mystified. Finally, Ksenia stood before Daphne and picked up the photo album from her lap. She’d noticed the way Daphne had glanced at a specific photo, her expression horrified, her mouth gaping open.

  “Daphne, what is it? Talk to me!” Phevos demanded. Daphne gave him another helpless look.

  “Is it this photo?” Ksenia asked as she pointed to it. It was a photo of a couple in their thirties. Ksenia held her breath as she waited for Daphne’s response.

  “Yes . . .” Daphne whispered. “Who . . . who are they?”

  “I don’t understand, Daphne! Who are you talking about? Please, let me see, Ksenia!” Phevos asked and Ksenia handed him the album at once.

  “This is an old photo of my parents!” burst out Ksenia. “Have you seen them? Please tell me if you have!” She placed her hands over Daphne’s trembling hands. Phevos’s eyes rose from the page and met Daphne’s with a gaze that now resembled hers. When they turned to look at Ksenia together, their mute, horrified stares told her that the answer to her question was yes. Their expressions also made her worry that the news was not good.

  Manos clung to his sister and they stood there motionless, two siblings staring at the other two, who sat there sharing the same shocking realization and the same feeling of utter inadequacy to put it into words. Phevos was deep in thought, trying to make sense of it all. Daphne had already guessed the truth, and she gave him a faint smile as if trying to speed up his tormented thinking.

  “Phevos, please talk to me! This is about our parents, for God’s sake!” Ksenia exclaimed as Manos clung to her, absorbing her own distress. Phevos reached out and held her hand, urging her to come sit next to him with Manos. They all sat on the couch again, clinging to each other like worry beads in the playful hands of destiny.

  “Calm down now . . .” Phevos patted them both on their backs. “I think it’s all good news. I just don’t know how to start, that’s all . . . I’ve no idea how you’ll receive what I’m about to tell you, but unless I speak the whole truth, Daphne and I will never know what to do from here any more than you will in your own quest to reunite with your parents.”

  “Destiny plays impossible games with people sometimes,” Daphne interrupted, “But in the end, it always turns out it’s all been engineered with infinite wisdom. I don’t believe in coincidences. It’s not coincidence that brought us to your home!”

  “Please tell us what you know! Don’t leave us guessing any longer. I’m fearing the worst!” Ksenia begged while Manos clung to her, as if for dear life. His eyes had grown enormous. Daphne looked at him with compassion.

  “Don’t worry, it will all be all right,” she promised.

  “Do you know my parents?” Manos dared ask Daphne to receive a reassuring nod.

  Ksenia gasped. “Are they alive? Are they okay?”

  “Yes, they are!” said Phevos.

  “Oh, thank God! But where are they? Why don’t they come home to us?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  Daphne shook her head, compassion coloring her face. “It’s not that simple.”

  Phevos started to speak. He held his sister’s hand, and put an arm around Ksenia and Manos too, as he shared with them the feeling of mystification that had just set his faith free to grow bigger than ever before. He commenced by telling them first the total truth of his reality.

  This revelation left Ksenia and Manos dumbfounded. How could they believe that Phevos and Daphne were time travelers from ancient Greece? How was it possible their parents, Kimon and Eleni, had been living in antiquity with them and their father Efimios? How did they get there? How is it even possible to travel in time? But why would Phevos and Daphne lie?

  Ksenia and Manos listened carefully, but their rational minds kept rejecting everything they heard including the absurd story about Efimios traveling back and forth in time to serve Goddess Athena and her city, by using a secret cave in the Acropolis hill. They stared back in bewilderment at Phevos and Daphne, but before they could voice their doubts, undisputable proof followed.

  Phevos and Daphne told them details about their parents that they couldn’t have possibly guessed. How could they know about Eleni’s love to sing all day or to
draw seascapes depicting quaint fishing villages and mermaids with long wavy hair? They spoke about Kimon, who loved his carpentry tools and was a keen handyman, jumping at the chance to mend anything that broke around the house. They even knew about his affinity for animals that led him to save strays from the streets, nurturing them with extreme care and tenderness until he found them a safe home.

  But the most astonishing proof came when Daphne, sensing the strong resistance of their doubts, stood up, paced to the middle of the room and broke into song. It was a beautiful lullaby that echoed in the room as Daphne’s tears rolled down her face. It was the same song Phevos had sung to her on their first day in Pallada, and it was the one Ksenia knew well from her mother. Eleni had sung this song to all four of them when they were still small in their beds. It was Eleni’s favorite lullaby that her grandmother had brought with her along with her family heirlooms when she’d fled from her homeland in Asia Minor back in 1922.

  Daphne had guessed Ksenia and Manos would also know it and she was right. The tears that rolled down Ksenia’s face signaled to Daphne that all doubt had finally vanished from her mind. And indeed, Ksenia rushed to Daphne and hugged her, breaking into sobs.

  Manos and Phevos approached them, and they all huddled together, their hearts united as one heart that ached at the sound of that forlorn melody. It took them a long while to bring themselves round, and once they did, they spent hours discussing their two worlds, trying to make sense of everything. The truth about what had happened to Kimon and Eleni was still a shattered puzzle that lay at their feet in a messy heap, still missing quite a few pieces. Yet, solving the puzzle was going to be simply a matter of time. They could tell that their destinies were entwined, somehow. In their united efforts to solve the mystery behind Kimon and Eleni, they were going to make progress with finding Phevos’s mother too.

  Chapter 11

  Two weeks had passed since that fateful Sunday afternoon. All four of them met as often as they could now, trying to make sense of things, consoling each other that the truth was just around the corner. Phevos and Daphne were still perplexed about it all. How could Kimon and Eleni be Ksenia and Manos’s parents? How had they wound up far back in time with them? It was obvious their father Efimios knew where they truly belonged. Why had none of them spoken about it? And why hadn’t their father helped them come back? What about Phevos’s mother disappearing the same year? Did she belong to this world too? And if they all had to go back in time, why did she choose to stay behind?

  These questions tortured Phevos more than all the others because he had this cloud in his head where his childhood memories once were. Thinking of Kimon and Eleni now, he realized how they must have suffered in silence all these years, separated from their children and the world they belonged in.

  Ksenia and Manos had their own unanswered questions. Had their parents chosen to be separated from them? They couldn’t accept this possibility so they focused on the thought they were made to leave, that something terrible had forced them to go. But even so, why had they remained silent about it, never mentioning their children to Phevos and Daphne? Still, despite all these questions, new hope had nestled in their hearts that, somehow, they could bring their parents back.

  Phevos had shown them the precious necklace he hid under his shirt. He told them how it had once allowed his father to travel back and forth in time, but this was not possible any more. Somehow, Phevos and Daphne had come here, but not through Athena’s cave, and so, Phevos had no idea how to use the necklace to go back. He didn’t even know where the cave was and, from what he knew, Efimios had seen to it that it couldn’t be used for time travel again.

  Although he had told his children many stories about his travels, Efimios had never disclosed the exact location of the cave or the reason why he had destroyed it eleven years earlier. All four of them had the burning desire to solve this big mystery and, after a lot of thought, decided to follow the only lead that they had. Mrs. Anna was the only adult in the house when Kimon and Eleni vanished. Perhaps she remembered vital details that could give them a clue. Perhaps she knew more than she had admitted to back then. They had nothing to lose, so they tried to find old contacts of hers that could be lying around the house in notebooks or old diaries. Ksenia searched all drawers and cabinets and found nothing, but then she remembered Mrs. Sofia was in contact with Mrs. Anna for a while after she had left.

  She didn’t want to ask her in case she raised suspicion, so she searched behind the reception desk in Pallada and rummaged through all the old address and phone books that Mrs. Sofia kept year after year with names of old acquaintances and guests. In one of these books, Ksenia found an entry with the name ‘Anna’ on it. There was no surname, but next to it, the word ‘Sounio’ had been handwritten and then crossed out. On top of it, Mrs. Sofia had added with her scrawly handwriting the word ‘Anavyssos’ and had also replaced the old telephone number with a new one.

  Ksenia put the book in her shoulder bag and left Pallada, rushing home to make the phone call in privacy. As soon as she had seen the entry, she remembered Mrs. Sofia once mentioned Mrs. Anna had moved to Sounio. On her way home, she made a short stop to tell Phevos what she’d found, assuring him this had to be the right Anna they were after.

  But alas! To her dismay, it proved to be a wrong number. The person who answered said no one called Anna lived there. Now, they had no more leads to find her. They didn’t know her last name and after all these years, she could be living anywhere.

  Ksenia suggested to the others not to ask Mrs. Sofia any questions about Anna or about their parents’ disappearance and everyone agreed. The old lady had a weak heart since an episode after her husband’s death years ago, so they didn’t want to distress her by forcing her to remember the sadness of that period. In effect, they had to give up on locating Mrs. Anna.

  Ksenia surrendered to the defeat with a sense of deep sadness. But Phevos didn’t let her or the others lose hope. He reminded them they still had another lead that rested on the end of his shovel as he worked hard in the orchard evening after evening. There was something hidden inside the earth there. He knew it by now with certainty. As he focused on his effort to plant new life, to level the rough paths and to tend to the trees, as their branches billowed full of blossom in the spring air, Phevos awaited the disclosure of the next sign.

  He was besotted with the memory of the stranger in his dream, who had asked him to trade his necklace for that magic wand. The stranger had urged him to find a shovel, and the day after that dream, he was offered the chance to tend to the orchard. Only a fool would have taken this prophetic dream as a mere coincidence.

  On May 1st, the orchard was ready to host the festive lunch they had decided to enjoy together in their garden, surrounded by sweet-smelling flowerbeds and trellises draped with fleshy leaves and tiny, bright-colored flowers. Phevos had worked very hard. For weeks he’d been planting and trimming, digging and watering. As promised, Manos had helped, handing him tools and pots and helping him cut open the sacks of earth and fertilizer.

  Both the girls had assisted too, watering and planting flowers. When the day came to sit around their garden table on the grass, they all had a feeling of satisfaction for the result of their efforts. Mrs. Sofia had been invited to lunch too and had assisted Ksenia in the preparation of delicious dishes. As soon as everyone sat around the table, Ksenia surprised them all when she produced some flowers out of a bag. She handed two flimsy daisy chains to Mrs. Sofia and Daphne and then placed a third one around her neck. She’d threaded the flowers with a needle. Making these was a ritual she followed on May 1st every year, as it was something her mother used to do for her when she was little. To include Phevos and Manos somehow, she’d picked carnations for them, which she pinned on their shirts before announcing the commencement of their little feast.

  A couple of days later, Phevos visited the orchard again in the afternoon after work. He was walking along the main path to the back end of the property, abs
entmindedly whistling a tune that had stuck in his head after listening to it on the radio that morning. It had been a warm sunny Saturday, and the neighborhood children had played in the streets all day. As the sun lowered itself onto the golden cradle of the horizon, the echo of their happy voices began to fade in the fragrant air.

  Manos had been passing by the fruit store all day, up and down the street, on his brand new skateboard that Phevos and Daphne had given him a couple of weeks earlier as an Easter present. They all loved to see Manos on a skateboard again. He still enjoyed his computer games, but he now played in the street more often than he did indoors. Ksenia was very proud of him these days as he’d recently made new friends, who had made a big difference in his life.

  Phevos reached the end of the orchard. The clearing of grass and wildflowers before him reached up to the rocky border of the imposing Acropolis hill. As Daphne had concluded, this is where they first found themselves when they entered this new world. For that reason, there was something about this spot that attracted Phevos more than any other in the orchard. He’d spent a lot of time there on his own, examining every blade of grass on the ground in silent contemplation, wondering if it had any secrets to reveal.

  Perhaps this is why his attention was immediately drawn to what he found there. It seemed so out of place, so peculiar, worthy of closer inspection. A kite lay shattered on the ground. It had bright orange and blue colors, and he recognized it at once. He had first seen it that morning hovering over the rooftops across from the shop, and he’d found the figures on it peculiar. Mr. Giorgis explained they were Phevos and Athena, the mascots of the Athens Olympics 2004, and teased him, commenting that Phevos on the kite was far better looking than him, even though he was wearing a skirt.

  Mr. Giorgis also told Phevos he knew the teenage boy who flew this kite. He had it since the Olympics and seldom flew it these days, as it was one of his favorites; a precious souvenir from his early childhood. Mr. Giorgis explained the boy had a large collection of kites he made himself and that he loved to fly them as a hobby.