Across from us, Karl slowly stood up and ceremoniously emptied the last dregs of wine into the trench in libation. A respectful silence descended; Karl rarely spoke, preferring to let his work do the talking. His natural reserve meant that relations between us were rather formal and strictly professional. He spoke in clear, concise Greek, tinted with a rounded accent. “All the latest discoveries lead me to one conclusion. When we complete excavations at this site, everything we have believed so far may radically change. At this very moment, we may be standing on one of the most mysterious and important temples of the ancient world. It is very likely that Samothrace will be recognized as one of the chief religious sites of Ancient Greece. It is too early to say, of course, but I share my thoughts with you based on these finds. I could be jumping to conclusions, but I think we are on the brink of unearthing one of the most ancient religions in the history of mankind.”
Zoe was drinking in every word. I was moved—impressed, but impatient for the two of us to be alone together, to talk freely. Karl gave a brief outline of how work would proceed in the coming days, and then it was finally time to leave for some well-earned rest, after what had been, at least for me, one of the most intense days since my arrival on Samothrace.
I still had to find a place for Zoe to spend the night, and I wondered how my mother would react if I returned home with a woman who was a complete stranger. I immediately rejected that plan, certain of her displeasure, and tried to think of an alternative. When everyone started to leave, Zoe leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Can we stay here a little longer?”
“Yes, of course,” I replied, and motioned to Elizabeth to go ahead without us. She gave me look of stunned surprise, but left without a word.
I suggested that the worker who would be standing guard go rest for as long as we were there, and he gladly agreed. I was savoring every moment of our meeting, without giving any thought to what was right or wrong, what propriety dictated or what would follow. Ten minutes later, we were all alone. She sat back down on the blanket, looking at the trench. I put out most of the candles and torches. A couple of lanterns gave enough light, aided by the bright moon that bathed us in its silvery light.
The sea breeze blowing inland chilled the air, and she gladly accepted the blanket I placed around her shoulders. She touched my hand in silent thanks and our eyes locked in an intense gaze once again. I sat beside her, enjoying the evening’s stillness. Dozens of crickets provided a musical accompaniment to this peaceful, enchanted evening. In the distance, a startled owl pierced the darkness with an eerie screech like an old witch.
Zoe took my hand and tugged at me to sit down beside her. She then stretched out on the blanket, gently pulling me along. As soon as her head touched the ground, she turned to face the sky. I followed her gaze, watching the faint twinkle of the stars glimmer around the moon. My heart beat loudly in my chest and I desperately tried to think of a way to break into conversation.
She stretched her arms, playing a game of cat and mouse with the moon, chasing it between her fingers. As if sensing my sudden shyness, she spoke first. “Andreas, do you mind if we say nothing about the past tonight? I promise you we will talk about everything tomorrow, but I want to leave the past buried tonight.”
I was so happy to just have her beside me on this most beautiful of nights that all I could do was give her hand a firm squeeze to show my acquiescence. We let our eyes wander across the heavenly expanse above, as if searching for the star that governed our fates. The sea breeze, stroking us with its briny chill, carried the voices of the others who had already drifted some distance away.
Emboldened by the touch of her fingers stroking my palm, I spoke up, careful not to allude to anything in the past. “I want to apologize about what happened at lunchtime. I was just taking a stroll when I ran into you, but instead of hiding, I just stood there, staring …”
“The sun was behind you so I could not see your face; you were just a shadow. You don’t need to apologize for something that wasn’t your fault. Anyway, you almost killed yourself up there.” I heard her stifle a laugh at the memory of my clumsy fall, before steadying her voice. “I heard all the shouting and I got such a fright that I ran off to find my friends. I had no idea who you were or what you were doing there. I’ve been through a lot …” She stopped talking abruptly, and her mood became somber.
I felt her squeeze my hand during the silence that followed. I did not know how to handle any of this. I had so many questions, so much I wanted to know, that I did not know where to start. Taking no time to think before speaking, I blurted out, “From the moment I first met you, I’ve been hoping we’d meet again someday. Not a day has gone by that I did not think of you, wishing our paths would cross. Deep inside me I felt—I believed—that you had managed to survive that nightmare. But tell me, what brought you here?”
She turned to look at me. I did the same, and we found ourselves facing each other in the dim candlelight. The lanterns casting their feeble light behind me flickered like two hopeful sparks in her eyes.
“My father is from Maronia, and I have spent the past few months living in my family’s home, trying to repair it. I am all alone; my parents have passed away, and I only have a couple of relatives who are helping me out. We lived in Naousa before the war, then Thessaloniki. I speak French, so I was asked to accompany some foreigners, first to Alexandroupolis and then here. I overheard them talking about a Frenchman, who left Samothrace with a statue he took to France, but I did not fully understand, not until I heard the full story. They seemed to feel ashamed about it, and maybe that’s why they chose not to visit the archaeological site. They were on their way to Istanbul and stopped over to see the full moon. We spent last night in the forest, and it was a very special experience for everyone. They weren’t exactly pleased when I abandoned them. But I could not help it.”
I felt tongue-tied all over again. She spoke as if we were old friends, picking up a conversation where we had left off. She was exquisite. I remembered well how beautiful she was, but it had been a beauty tempered by the terror of that day.
“I can’t describe how happy I am that you decided to stay, Zoe. Even if you had left, I would have come to find you. I don’t believe fate brought us together on a whim …”
“On a night like this …” She pointed to the moon.
“On a night like this …” I repeated, following the motion, mesmerized.
I felt as if I were caught in a dream, lying between the injured Winged Victory and the woman who had left a searing mark on my heart. I so wanted to lean against her and kiss those red lips, but my skin froze at the thought she might get angry with me for daring to get closer than she would allow.
I had never been with a woman. I had never felt the warm flesh of a woman’s body. The few, snatched kisses of my past seemed like insignificant pebbles flung in the vast ocean of my desire to feel what I had heard other men brag about. I never considered paying for a night of passion, although it was a prospect that had presented itself often. I would rather take a vow of celibacy rather than pay for love.
Our intertwined fingers did not part for a second. Hot desire swept through my body like an iron bar held to the flames, which only grows hotter and hotter if you do not pull away your hand. That was the flame I felt burning inside me, that I tried to tame to no avail.
A flurry of feet stamping the ground startled me. I dropped her hand clumsily as I jumped up. Vasilis arrived, panting, and called out my name in a voice filled with terror. His wild-eyed look filled me with foreboding.
“Come quickly … fire … your house is on fire … Run!” he shouted, gesticulating wildly. I turned and looked in the direction of our house. An icy fear gripped my heart at the sight of the faint reddish glow glimmering over the ridge.
My throat constricted at the thought of my mother. Vasilis tugged at my sleeve, begging me to hurry. Alarmed, Zoe was now standing beside me.
“Stay here. I’ll be back …” I said, and wa
lked off.
I heard her footsteps behind us. “I’ll come with you,” she declared, and fell in step with us.
The moonlight was our ally, lighting our steps as we hurried along the path to my house. As we came nearer, cries of despair mingled with the smell of burning wood, foretelling a disaster I did not want to imagine. It was not long before the house came into full view. It had surrendered to the large, flaming tongues that hungrily consumed it, and belched out dark clouds of smoke. Shadow figures moved in the grey haze, carrying water buckets that only seemed to cool down the flames for a moment.
I looked for my mother among those gathered, crying out her name. Calliope, my sister, fell into my arms, screaming that our mother was trapped inside.
The front door appeared through the flames, a tiny opening just wide enough for me to dash inside and save the woman who had given me life. I ran toward it without thinking, with no sense of the terrible danger. With a piercing cry, my sister flung herself at me, knotting her arms around my waist. Vasilis snatched the back of my shirt, pulling me back, and Zoe, in tandem with the other two, stood before me, spreading her arms to block my path.
I struggled to escape their grasp, to launch myself into the flames. Like a chained beast, I tried to break my human bonds, but more and more people gathered around me, forming a tight circle that trapped me at its center while the nightmare that held my mother in its burning bosom relentlessly consumed her.
A roar of despair surged into the night air from the depths of my being, and I felt the hot flames melt my vocal cords as I sank to my knees, any strength left inside me a pile of ashes. The tears dried in my eyes before they could even roll down my cheeks. The flames kept getting higher. I desperately looked to the heavens, and through the curtain of tears that filled my eyes, saw a blurry moon …
Only a few mourners remained at the cemetery. Zoe was one of them, dressed in dark clothes she had borrowed from one of the women in the village. I, too, had borrowed a black suit from the woman’s husband. The wind had risen, whipping up the surface of the sea to match the storm raging inside me.
It was late afternoon by now, and most had returned to their chores after the service. Almost everyone had stared at Zoe in puzzlement, trying to understand who she was and what business she had to be there with me. My nostrils were still filled with the acrid smoke the fire had released all through the night. Everyone had advised me to keep away once it died out, but I made it clear that I wanted to be with them when they entered the charred ruins to look for my mother. I did not want her found by a stranger. I had wept and mourned all through the night, so that when we found her remains, all I could feel was horror, but also an inexplicable sense of release.
The entire archaeological mission had attended the service. They all stood numb, the women comforting my sister, who softly lamented the woman who had brought her into the world. Vasilis took care of all the arrangements that I should have been making. He did not leave my side for a moment, always keeping a watchful eye over me. When the last of the mourners turned down the path leading to the cemetery gates, Zoe wordlessly moved close beside me, patiently waiting for me to turn and follow them.
We had buried her beside my father, so they could keep each other company in the land they had now reached. My mother had taken good care of his grave, keeping it neat and tidy, and would visit him every day, telling him how much she missed him. I found comfort in the thought that they were together again.
I looked at the freshly dug earth that now covered her, and wondered how it was possible for my mother to be there one moment and gone the next, taking everything we could no longer share with her. I was filled with guilt about everything I had not found time to do for her, everything I had not managed to tell her or show her.
Most of all, I felt guilty about the time I had not spent with her since my return to the island. I had dedicated myself to the excavations, and she had dedicated herself to me, always there, always patient, never complaining, compassionate, making sure I wanted for nothing.
My heart had been smashed into a thousand pieces. I had learned in the most brutal way that death can catch you unawares, snatching your loved ones in the blink of an eye, so you never know when you are seeing someone for the last time. You might not even have time to say goodbye. The future is so uncertain; it turns suddenly into the past, and everything you never found the time to say will haunt your nights forever. A gaping “Why?” was now etched inside me.
Vasilis approached me silently, waiting for my instructions. He was sleep deprived like the rest of us, his eyes red with tears and smoke. A small wound beside his missing ear testified to his losing battle against the flames. I asked him to go get some rest, and as soon as he had moved some distance away, I turned to Zoe. In an hour, a boat would be leaving for Alexandroupolis, and she had told me that she would be making the crossing at the end of the funeral.
She stepped closer and looked at me. A black shawl was tied around her long hair, and she stood as still as a statue, as if waiting for me to determine what she should do.
“Don’t go yet,” I beseeched her in a shaky voice.
I remembered her eyes so well. Their image had been so firmly imprinted in my mind from the moment I first saw her. I knew that, no matter what happened next, it would be a memory to last a lifetime. One last tear ran down my cheek, and she wiped it away with her handkerchief. She then moved it to her face and dried her eyes.
“When tears unite, souls become one,” she said, wrapping her arms around me like a mother shielding a child. Her body snuggled against mine and calmed me down, soaking up the pain and sorrow.
The hope that she might stay a while gave me strength. “Will you stay?” I asked her, wanting to make sure that was what she meant.
“For as long as you want.” She gently stroked my cheek.
Hope surged inside me. “You’ll stay with Calliope. I’ll ask her; I’m sure she won’t mind.”
“And you?” she asked, seeming more concerned for me than for herself.
“I’ll find a place to stay, don’t worry about that,” I replied, and wondered whether I had optimistically miscalculated how welcoming my sister would actually be toward Zoe. I turned one last time to look at the grave, and then followed her to the exit with a heavy heart.
I had been trying to figure out how our house could have burned down so quickly that my mother did not have a chance to get out. Some supposed that she must have had a heart attack while she was cooking. Everything had turned to ash, and only a couple of the walls remained, tarry, smoke-smudged reminders of the house that had once stood there. There was no way of finding out how the fire had begun.
We silently walked up the narrow path until we caught up with Calliope and her husband. They gave us a questioning look as we approached. Calliope asked to speak to me alone, so her husband and Zoe kept walking, giving us some space. I had a sense I would not like what I was about to hear. Sadly, I was right.
Night was rapidly descending when we found shelter at Elizabeth’s house. My sister had refused to accommodate us, saying that she would not let a woman who slept in the forest, whose reputation no one could vouch for, cross her threshold. She even went so far as to inform me that her husband had threatened to kick her out of the house if she dared bring that woman into their home.
I did not say a word. Such was the turmoil raging inside me that a bitter argument was sure to follow if I opened my mouth. I thought it better to leave without saying a word and seek shelter at Elizabeth’s house.
Without asking any questions, Elizabeth readily agreed to accommodate me in the basement, and gave Zoe a bedroom across from hers on the first floor. I chose not to tell Zoe about my sister’s decision; instead, I lied and said that it would be better if we stayed with Elizabeth, whose house was roomier, and that we would be more comfortable there.
Although I am sure Zoe understood what had really happened, she did not comment, and followed me, saying she did not care where she sta
yed. I was displeased at my sister’s behavior; angry. Under the weight of our shared grief for our mother, however, I opted to let things cool down. My colleagues had wanted to suspend excavations at the Sanctuary the following day in a gesture of compassion, but I asked them to carry on as normal. I firmly believed that life must go on no matter what, and I did not want my sorrow affecting anyone else.
Suddenly, we heard a soft knock on the wooden front door. I nodded that I would get it while Elizabeth and Zoe made the spare beds. I opened the door without asking who it was, and came face to face with Vasilis, who stood frozen on the spot. For a few, brief seconds I had forgotten what had happened; seeing Vasilis at the door, I broke down in tears once again. I realized that from now on, for the rest of my life, I would think back to the moment he told me the house was on fire every time I saw him.
He gave me a bundled up sheet, stuffed with clothes. For me, he said, now that my belongings were gone. I did not know how to thank him, and I hugged him in gratitude. He was not used to people being demonstrative; with a hasty goodnight, he left as silently as he had arrived. The two women came to join me, and we all stepped out into the courtyard.
Elizabeth was the first to break the prolonged silence. “It’s time for you to rest. You have had a shock, Andreas. You need to rest.” She turned to leave, perhaps wanting to give us some time alone.
“Is someone guarding the statue at the Sanctuary?” I asked.
Elizabeth nodded, and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Everything is taken care of, don’t worry. Goodnight.” She walked inside and closed the door behind her. Silence descended on the courtyard once again.
“Elizabeth is right,” Zoe said. “We all need to rest. Try not to think anymore. Try to sleep. It will help you. Tomorrow, a different life begins for you. I’ve lost both my parents; I understand what you are going through.” She tiptoed close to me and reached up to brush her lips against my cheek. I turned my head and kissed her lips.
Dominion of the Moon Page 7