The Necklace of Goddess Athena

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The Necklace of Goddess Athena Page 13

by Effrosyni Moschoudi


  His kite had been the only one in the sky but that had come as no surprise. As a rule, the majority of Greek children fly kites only once a year: on Lent Monday. Phevos felt sorry as he looked down at the shattered kite, thinking how sad the boy must feel. He also wondered what it had been that had driven him to choose to fly his precious, favorite kite today. Despite feeling sorry for the boy’s loss, there was a glimmer of hope in his heart as well, as he knelt down to examine his finding closely.

  It was too much of a coincidence to hear of the Olympics mascots in the morning and to find them again at his feet later the same day. Just as he was about to take the kite in his hands, he noticed a glint in the dirt under the broken, wooden frame. He picked up the kite and the messy tangles of string, setting them aside, in order to inspect closely the spot on the dirt that now sparkled in the faint afternoon sunlight.

  With his fingertips, he brushed the soil and decided that what he was looking at was a shiny yellow plaque or stone. Phevos rushed to his wheelbarrow where he kept minor tools and hurried back with a small spade. He started to dig with caution, trying to uncover the full surface of the stone without damaging it. His heart started to race when he realized its shape was a perfect rectangle. What’s more, another identical stone began from its edge, buried vertically into the ground. Soon, he concluded he was looking at steps of yellow marble, and he kept working with even more fervor now, wondering all the while where they could lead.

  Half an hour later, he heard Ksenia call his name. She’d been looking for him everywhere with a glass of orange juice in her hand.

  “Phevos! There you are! Here, I thought you might be thirsty,” she said as she approached him.

  “Ksenia! My Ksenia!” he said jolting upright. His eyes were wide with enthusiasm when he opened his arms to embrace her. Ksenia tried to salvage the drink as she laughed in his arms. He was now planting kisses all over her face.

  “Yes! I love you too, you lunatic! Careful now! Your drink!” she protested but to no avail. “What's the matter with you? I knew you shouldn’t be spending so much time in the sun!”

  Phevos stopped to gaze at her, his eyes alight with the thrill of his discovery. He took the glass from her hand and downed the drink in one go. Then, without a word, he led her to see his finding. Two steps were fully visible.

  Ksenia brought her hands to her mouth. “Oh my God! What's this?” The marble steps shone in the faint sunlight. Kneeling before them, she caressed them with two gentle fingertips. They felt cold after their long slumber in the dark confines of the soil.

  “Do you see, Ksenia? My dream was true! This must be the sign we’ve been waiting for! This is it!”

  “Wait a minute, Phevos . . . I remember this place!” Ksenia looked around her with distant eyes, as she tried to recall a faint childhood memory. Her face lit up. “Of course!” She stood and looked around her again. “The gardener’s storeroom!”

  “What storeroom?”

  “It used to be right there,” she said, pointing vaguely to the massive rock face that stood before them. “Mrs. Anna’s husband, Mr. Thimios, used it. He helped my parents with the gardening. There was this beautiful flower garden he always tended . . . Oh, how could I have forgotten all that?” She brought a hand to her brow and shook her head.

  “A flower garden? Right here?”

  “Yes! There were roses, carnations, chrysanthemums . . . I remember it now. The steps to the gardener’s storeroom were made of yellow marble. It must be these right here! But why are they buried now? I don’t understand . . .”

  Phevos let out a labored sigh. “Are you sure? There was a storeroom here? Is that all?”

  “Yes. My parents told me so. I never went in it, come to think of it. Its entrance was right there in the rock.”

  “In the rock? Are you sure?”

  “Yes. And the door had a figure on it. I think it was a bird. Yes . . . an owl! My goodness, it’s all coming back to me now!” Ksenia shook her head with disbelief. Normally, she was able to recount her childhood memories with ease. But the ones surrounding the gardener’s storeroom seemed to resist resurfacing.

  Phevos’s face lit up. “An owl, you said?” He didn’t fail to make the connection with Athena’s sacred symbol.

  “Yes. I’m sure of it! It was an owl, without a doubt.”

  “And where is the door? You said it was in the rock. I don’t see it.”

  “It must be buried too. It must all be buried!”

  “But why, Ksenia? Who buried it and why? Please try to remember!”

  “I don’t know, Phevos! I don’t know anything about it! I was very little when the gardener used it, and I never went inside. Its door was always closed. I do remember wandering in the garden here, but it’s all changed now. Everything about this place is different.”

  “In what way?”

  “Well, there’s no flower garden here any more, to start with! And as you walked toward the door in the rock, the path used to have a rather steep downward slope. But now it’s all level from here to the rock. It’s like it’s all been buried deep down, garden and all!”

  “But why? Who would do that?”

  Ksenia shook her head.

  “Shall we ask, Mrs. Sofia?”

  Ksenia’s eyes grew huge. “What? No!”

  “But surely you can see we have no other choice! We have to find out why the door was buried. And I’m intrigued this storeroom was in the rock, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am, my love. But I don’t want us to upset her!”

  “Why would we upset her?”

  “Phevos, anything that has to do with all the losses of the past might hurt her. When her husband died, and she had that major heart attack, she nearly died!”

  “I think she’s much stronger than you think. Let’s just ask her about the steps and nothing else. We don’t have to explain why we want to know. And we can try, if we can, not to mention Mrs. Anna or her husband or your parents or anyone else whose memory might upset her.”

  “You promise?”

  “Of course, Ksenia! Come on, let’s go ask her now.”

  “Now? Are you sure?”

  “Are you serious? I can't wait another second to find out what's under there! Can you?”

  “You’re right! I can't either,” she admitted rushing down the path with him.

  “Ksenia, the answer is down there, buried in the dirt,” he said reaching for her hand.

  “Yes,” she replied as their hands locked together, “That answer will lead us to my parents and your father. And your mother too!” she added as they strode among the trees.

  “I agree, Ksenia. This storeroom must be what we’re supposed to find. Someone must have buried it to hide something!”

  “But how can Mr. Thimios be involved in all this? Do you think it was he who buried it?”

  “I don’t know, Ksenia! If my father knew your parents then maybe he knew Anna and her husband, too. Maybe, my father gave Mr. Thimios something to hide in there for him. Something that we’re now expected to find. Who knows?”

  “I’m sure the truth will be revealed to us sooner or later!”

  They came out on the street and, holding hands, rushed to Pallada, determined to find the answers.

  Chapter 12

  “Phevos! Ksenia!” cried Manos, and they both turned around. He was coming down the road on his skateboard. He swerved around a can of soda and came to a stop in front of them grinning from ear to ear.

  “Well, that’s impressive!” said Phevos patting him on the shoulder.

  “Thanks!” chirped Manos.

  “You’re aware of the cars, right?” asked Ksenia.

  “Oh, don’t worry! There are hardly any in this street! Besides, I’m off to the square to skate with my friends. No vehicles are allowed up there so you can relax!”

  “Okay Manos, I’m going to Pallada for a little while, and then I’ll come home to make dinner. See you around eight?”

  “No worries, Sis! See y
ou!” With a quick wave, Manos was off. Within seconds he’d disappeared around the corner, but the harsh, whirring sound of the wheels rolling on concrete lingered in the air a while longer.

  Ksenia clutched her chest. “My goodness, I get so nervous when I see him on that skateboard!”

  “Yes, but surely you can see how good it is that he’s out there now and not indoors on his own any more?” replied Phevos as he took her hand to resume walking to Pallada.

  “Of course! He seems so happy now . . .”

  “And did you hear, he said he’s going to the square to skate with his friends!”

  “Yes, I’ve seen them, and they seem to be good kids. He started hanging out with them during the Easter break.”

  “This is great, Ksenia!”

  “It sure is. Manos has changed a lot recently, and there’s more confidence in his manner. But I owe it also to you. Not just to those kids—”

  Phevos gave a frown. “Me? I can't take any credit for that.”

  “I disagree. You’ve helped him come out of his shell, so he could get out and find new friends who make him feel good for a change.”

  “I haven't done anything, Ksenia. It was just the right time for him, that’s all. And he’s such a nice young man you can't help but like him anyway. As for those horrid bullies, I’m glad they let him be in the end. I don’t see them around here any more . . . How are things in school nowadays?”

  “Well, I guess they’re fine! Perhaps Manos just broke away from the vicious circle. They used to sense his weakness and hurt him. The more they did, the weaker he got and so on. But once he found strength and confidence in himself, they left him alone, just like that.”

  “It makes sense, Ksenia . . . I do believe it’s the way you see yourself that determines the type of people you’ll attract in life. Be it friends or anything else.”

  Ksenia nodded and squeezed Phevos’s hand in hers, her tender eyes meeting his own, as they neared the marble steps of Pallada.

  Daphne stood behind the reception desk smiling at a young American couple. In the two months she’d been working there, she’d found it easy to learn basic English; her solid knowledge of Latin had helped her a lot along the way.

  Mrs. Sofia was at reception too, dusting the bookcase shelves. The afternoon had been quiet in Pallada. Ksenia had helped in the morning with room preparations for new arrivals. These days, the two young girls took care of all the hard work, leaving to Mrs. Sofia the easier tasks, such as dusting and reception duty. Any kind of exertion caused the old woman to pant. Osteoporosis had chiseled her frail body to a stance that seemed like an eternal bow to the relentless passage of time.

  “Mrs. Sofia!” Ksenia and Phevos said in unison.

  Mrs. Sofia turned, her face beamimg. “Hello, my darlings!”

  “We have something to ask you,” said Ksenia.

  “Anything your little hearts desire. Just let me sit down for a bit. Come sit here with me.” She sat on the old couch and beckoned.

  “Mrs. Sofia, I found some marble steps as I dug around the orchard,” said Phevos when he and Ksenia sat on either side of her.

  “Steps? What steps, psyche mou?”

  “I remember those steps,” interrupted Ksenia, “They’re made of yellow marble. I think they belong to the old gardener’s storeroom.”

  Mrs. Sofia’s face darkened, and she raised her eyes to stare into the distance.

  “Ksenia says there used to be a storeroom in the rock face at the far end of the property. Is that right?” Phevos tried to sound nonchalant. The old lady’s growing distress was evident, but he couldn’t afford to falter in the least.

  “Yes, that’s right,” Mrs. Sofia said in a trembling voice. “But the man who used it was very odd!” She gave a deep sigh. “He didn’t let anyone enter that damned hole of Satan, God forgive me! The door was always shut.”

  “Do you mean Mrs. Anna’s husband?” asked Ksenia.

  “Yes.”

  “I do remember that the door was always shut. But why would you speak that way about him?”

  “Psyche mou, don’t ask. Just forget about it. No one should remember this wretched place! Now you go and do the right thing and bury those steps again, you hear? They don’t deserve the light of day. That place is cursed!” she shrieked shaking a wrinkly finger. Her bottom lip was quivering now, and Ksenia panicked to see her that way.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Daphne as she approached. The guests had just left, and she was concerned to find them all looking so distressed.

  Mrs. Sofia beckoned Daphne with an urgent hand. “Come here my girl and talk to them, please! You’re a sensible girl, they’ll listen to you! Please tell them to bury those steps before another disaster occurs!”

  Before Daphne could voice her perplexity, Phevos and Ksenia explained to her what they’d found. The young girl’s face lit up, but then she managed to contain herself as not to squeal with excitement. She exchanged mute stares with the other two, certain that Mrs. Sofia knew a lot. They were all mystified by what they’d heard already, but their first priority was to calm the old lady down.

  Mrs. Sofia was clutching her chest with one hand, trembling with distress. Ksenia put her arms around her making soothing sounds while Daphne rushed to the back, returning moments later with a glass of water.

  “Come now, Mrs. Sofia, it’s okay . . .” Daphne rubbed the old lady’s back to soothe her as she drank from the glass.

  “Don’t worry now . . . We just wanted to know if I remembered correctly about the storeroom, that’s all!” said Ksenia.

  “That’s right, we were just curious,” said Phevos shrugging his shoulders.

  Mrs. Sofia gave a heavy sigh. “My children, please try to understand! People have perished because of that damned storeroom! I never went in there but I know in my soul that it’s evil! I wasn’t even here when it happened. I was in Corfu then, visiting my dying sister.”

  Ksenia’s eyes widened. “Are you referring to the disappearance of my parents?”

  “Yes, psyche mou! This is what I’m talking about.”

  “Are you saying the storeroom had something to do with their vanishing?” asked Phevos.

  “All I know is poor Anna believed that! She couldn’t bear to see it after they were gone. She confessed to me she thought it was cursed. Even though the police went in there to search and found nothing, she still believed it had something to do with the vanishing. This is why in the end she decided to bury its entrance in the rock, to make it disappear from the face of the earth. To stop this from happening again.”

  Ksenia gasped. “Mrs. Anna buried the storeroom?”

  “Yes, my love! She brought some workers, who came with trucks full of soil.”

  “So is this why it’s now level? Ksenia said there used to be a downward slope toward the rock face.”

  “Yes, Phevos. They leveled it all out. She wanted it to be perfectly hidden, deprived of the light of day. It wasn’t enough to her to just bolt the door shut forever. She said she didn’t want any chance of it being visited again. Even the flower garden got buried under tons and tons of soil.”

  “I remember the garden,” said Ksenia. “I used to wander around there a lot when I was little. I can't believe I had forgotten all about that until today. Mom always put me to bed after lunch in the summer, but I used to escape to visit that garden while she had her midday siesta. I remember hopping from one flowerbed to another pretending I had wings and that I was a fairy—”

  “I remember that too well!” Mrs. Sofia chortled and sat back on the couch. “You were one fanciful little girl! You used to beg your mother to dress you in a flimsy nylon nightdress of hers. It was light blue with velvety little bows on the front. Do you remember it?”

  “Yes,” replied Ksenia in a whisper. She’d just recalled that memory without effort, and yet it felt surreal as if she’d claimed it from the misty fragments of a distant dream. “It felt so light and soft on my skin,” she continued, “And I pretend
ed it was my fairy dress made of pure silk. Mom used to tie the straps up in knots on top of my shoulders to make the nightdress fit better on me, but it was still too long, and I had to lift the hem as I walked. Such a vivid memory! I can't believe I just remembered! I loved that garden! Mr. Thimios must have been quite the gardener . . .”

  “Oh my sweetheart, you remember well. Your mother always knew where to find you in the afternoon after her siesta. You were always there wandering barefoot, sniffing the flowers and sitting on the grass pretending to have long conversations with the ants! What a cute little fairy you were too!” Mrs. Sofia gave a little laugh and pinched Ksenia’s cheek. “Although there’s one thing where your memory doesn’t serve you well, if I may say so!”

  “Really? What’s that?”

  “Well, his name wasn’t Thimios and that’s for sure!”

  Ksenia knitted her brows. “It wasn’t?”

  “What was it?” asked Daphne and Phevos in unison.

  “Oh, in the name of St Spyridon! I can't remember what I had for breakfast! Surely you don’t expect me to remember that man’s name, do you now?”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter. I was too little back then; perhaps I confused his name with someone else’s. He must have been a good man, though. I have the impression Mrs. Anna loved him very much.”

  Mrs. Sofia twisted her lips. “He was all right . . . albeit odd. But I’ll hand him that, he sure was a great gardener.”

  “Fancy the storeroom being in the rock, though!” burst out Phevos.

  “Well, Ksenia’s parents let him use it for storing his tools. That room in the rock has always been used for storage from what I know. Ever since the time of your great-grandfather, my Ksenia!”

  “Mrs. Sofia, please don’t get upset again, but I just think this is very strange,” said Daphne, who had kept quiet all this time, contemplating the facts.

  “What is strange, my sweet?”

  “Well, if this storeroom has been used for so many years, how come it only caused one disaster and not more? How did it even come about that it was cursed as you said? That it was even related to the disappearance of Ksenia’s parents?”

 

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