No Forgiveness

by Helen Nickolson

  They bundled her on their donkey and walked alongside her to visit a doctor in Kymi, only about five miles away but that day it felt like forever. They had heard enough about cases of rabies to suspect that Sophia was infected, but they didn’t dare breathe the word rabies out loud. They knew that rabies would be a sure and painful death, and they prayed for a miracle.

  The doctor could do nothing for Sophia. He wasn’t sure that she had rabies and hoped that she was experiencing a bad case of the flu. The doctor was aware of a vaccine that had been developed by Louis Pasteur and Emile Roux in the late 19th century, but it was not available in the mountain villages. He doubted that it was available even in Athens, and, if she had rabies, it was too late to administer any vaccine successfully.

  His sorrow for them was immense, especially knowing that he wouldn’t be able to comfort them. He didn’t dare give them any hope and recommended that they talk with the village priest. They cried upon hearing this and his eyes watered in sympathy. To lose such a pretty young daughter was a shame! To lose anyone to rabies was a crime he thought, knowing fully well of the pain and misery that rabies brought with it.

  Shortly after they returned home with Sophia, her symptoms worsened. She couldn’t sleep, fidgeted and was restless. Sometimes she didn’t know where she was. She looked at her family in distrust and sometimes hallucinated, screaming out at the demons that possessed her. During her final days she had hydrophobia and panicked whenever anyone mentioned water. She was so thirsty but couldn’t bear the thought of water. They saw her producing more and more saliva and felt her pain when she had agonizing contractions in her throat. They would never be able to forget her tortured cries and her anguish, but they could do nothing for her other than wait for the blessed relief of death, which took place nine days after the first signs of rabies had shown up.

  It was a dark day for the family when they saw that she had drawn her last breath, but they were gratified that she would finally have peace. If the Church had allowed, they would have killed her to shorten her pain, but they knew that wasn’t an option. They had gone as far as to discuss shortening her life with the priest and he had warned against such action.

  “You cannot do that,” he had admonished. “Taking a life is strictly prohibited by the Sixth Commandment which states, ‘You shall not kill’ (Exodus 20:13). I sense and feel your suffering as well as your daughter’s. God feels it too and has incredible compassion for you although you may find that hard to believe at this moment. Have faith in God and know that Sophia will be with Him in heaven shortly.”

  So, they buried her and cried, and the entire village cried with them.

  Even after a year had passed, Vasili wasn’t the same man he had been before Sophia’s death. He tried to console his wife, the two remaining daughters, and his two sons, but couldn’t console himself. Of course, he understood that a lot of time would need to pass before he would again find joy. That was true for all of them.

  One early Saturday morning, he decided it was time to cultivate the little acre plot they had on the hill high above the Church. He had meant to work on this plot for some time and just never got around to it. It was such a steep climb that he rarely went up there and dreaded carrying heavy tools all that way on his back.

  “Vasili,” he said to himself. “We have this land and it’s a shame you’ve been too lazy to do something with it. Others would be grateful to have this piece and you need to stop making excuses. Just think, you can clear the area today and plant something next week. Maybe some fruit trees would be good. If you put in different varieties, Maria could store the fruit in a cool spot and we would have it through-out the winter. Some pear trees would be excellent and bring a smile to Maria’s lips.”

  He had talked himself into going through the undesirable task and prepared to leave the house. As usual, he embraced Maria and nuzzled her throat. Their love-making had been sparse ever since Sophia’s death. They regularly cuddled during the night and hugged often during the day, but everything had changed in their lives and they weren’t ready to get back to their steady sexual intercourse. They knew that they would find each other fully again and were willing to be patient. The love that had brought them together was perhaps stronger than ever. Spiritually, they were more bonded than they had ever been.

  He also kissed his daughters and sons affectionately and told them to behave themselves and help their mother with the chores. They nodded in agreement as his words went in one ear and immediately passed through the other. In chorus, they all chanted, “Yes, Baba.” He always said the same thing, so they patted him on the head tenderly. What a loving man he was they thought. They were so lucky to have him as a father!

  He sweated as he climbed up the steep hill and, at the top, he sat down to drink some water. He cautiously went to the edge, saw the Church below, and made his cross. Vasili took a deep, determined breath to encourage himself into starting what had to be done and inexplicably found himself hurtling through the air. In the few seconds he had before crashing to the ground, he thought of his family and said, “I love you all with my entire heart and soul.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Katerina and Michael continued their affair throughout the summer. They couldn’t get enough of each other. The day Ophelia gave birth to a big, healthy boy, Katerina and Michael were in their little leafy home in the north field. She had arrived early in the morning and had brought a basket with food for lunch. Michael rarely went home for lunch any longer.

  He had gotten there at daybreak, had put in several hours of hard work, but knew instantly when she arrived. He felt her presence like a streak of lightning through his body. He looked up from the field and saw her ducking through the leafy exterior. He had only a half hour’s more work to do to finish the little stretch he was working on and hurried as much as possible with the anticipation of making love to her.

  She was waiting for him and got up to greet him, encircling his waist and raising her lips for the lingering kiss she knew he would give her. “Would you like to eat first,” she asked, “or would you prefer to have more a taste of me?”

  “My taste for you takes priority. You’re what I want and need more than I’ll ever need food. Let me kiss those lips and neck a little longer and then I’ll do much, much more.”

  She felt faint as he continued his kisses down her body and pulled up her dress to take off her panties. She had left the panties off purposely and sensed his excitement when he realized there was nothing to take off. He instantly harden-ed against her.

  “Ah, this is how I like it,” he murmured and worked his finger into her, driving harder every time he re-entered until she trembled, groaned, screamed, and came with his name on her lips.

  He quickly took off his own clothes and picked her up so that her legs encircled him. With her clothes still on, he thrust himself into her. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and held on as she felt him hard and big inside of her.

  She cried his name out over and over and moaned with pleasure. “I love and need you Michael. We were meant to be together. We are bound together.”

  “I love you too Katerina. I’ve never wanted anyone else and I think I’ll die if I can’t have you. I must have you. I need you every day and every…”

  Before he could finish his sentence, they suddenly heard a voice from a distance shouting Michael’s name. One the neighbors was looking for Michael to tell him he needed to go home. Ophelia had just had the baby and everyone from the neighborhood was looking for him.

  Michael hurriedly threw his clothes on and jumped out of the shelter. ‘What is it Kyria Koula? Is there an emergency that has brought you here in this state? Your face is too rosy as if you’ve exerted yourself too much.”

  “Oh, Michael. Everyone is looking for you to tell you that you are now a father. Ophelia just had a boy and is asking for you. She had an easy delivery so there is nothing to be concerned about, and the baby is healthy and yelling like a heathen. He already resembles yo
u and will make you proud.”

  “I will be right behind you,” he told her. “There’s something I need to get first, but I will hurry home immediately. Perhaps you should splash your face with water before you return. Here, I have this cup and I’ll fill it so that you can also have a drink to refresh yourself. Thank you for coming Kyria Koula! I’m very excited at the news and can’t wait to see my son!”

  As soon as Kyria Koula turned and left he went back to where Katerina waited. She had overheard the conversation and felt a sudden emptiness. He wasn’t really hers regardless of the love they had for each other. He had other obligations and would need to fulfill those commitments. After all, his wife was Ophelia.

  She looked at him and stiffly said, “Yes, I know you have to go. Congratulations on your son. I hope he will bring you happiness.”

  She didn’t see him for a week after that. She missed him terribly and felt wretched. She wanted to touch him so badly, to have him touch her. She wondered if he would put her aside now and concentrate on his life with Ophelia. No, how could he? How could he touch Ophelia after what they had experienced together? She cried out his name repeatedly and could have sworn that she heard her name in return.

  “I must be losing my sanity. I must be having hallucinations. I hear Michael as if he’s standing next to me, but I don’t think he’ll be with me again. That was a close call we had with Kyria Koula and he might be scared that we’ll be caught,” she spoke out loud, and, realizing that she had spoken audibly, was sure that she had lost her stability.

  During that week without contact from Michael, she went daily to visit her mother and hear about the baby. She knew that the right thing would be for her to visit Ophelia and the baby, but she couldn’t bring herself to go to the house. She didn’t want to see Ophelia in the bed she shared with Michael. Her mother told her that they were going to name the baby Alexander after Michael’s father and that they would have the baptism in late September after Ophelia had received the forty-day birth-blessing from the priest.

  Kyria Maria hinted that Ophelia was considering asking Katerina to be the baby’s godmother. She had been surprised that Ophelia had voiced such a desire and had gently tried to dissuade her.

  “Ophelia,” she had said. “You might want to consider someone from Michael’s side of the family. This has been a tough year for Katerina and she’s struggling with her faith in God. She might not be the right person at this time, but, hopefully, she’ll be in a position to baptize your next child.”

  Upon hearing that Ophelia was considering her as a godmother, Katerina backed away and clutched her hands. “No, I would never want to be the godmother. I know this is my nephew, but a godmother has special responsibilities that I don’t see myself able to perform. I am definitely not interested in being responsible for the child’s spiritual upbringing. Besides, after all that has happened between Ophelia and me, I don’t understand how she would even consider this. I trust her so little that I can’t help but think she has some evil intent.”

  “That’s what I thought although I don’t think there is any evil intent here. But, I understand that you don’t want to go to their house and only hope you’ll attend the baptism in September.”

  Katerina finished her visit and left somewhat muddled. She had a lot on her mind as she walked home. Her mind whirled like a hurricane in all directions as she thought of the baby and the baptism, of Ophelia, and especially of Michael. She was so busy thinking of him that she didn’t realize who it was when he stopped her.

  “It seems that you don’t pay attention to your surroundings when you walk,” he observed. “This is the second time I have met you walking in a trance. You should be careful not to stumble over a rock or step into a hole.”

  “Yes, yes,” she nodded still not realizing it was Michael. “I just have too much on my mind and am acting rather foolishly.”

  “Katerina, look at me. I’m Michael. You’re so oblivious that you don’t even recognize me.” He shook her lightly to get her attention. “I’ve had you on my mind all week and couldn’t decide how to best get in touch with you. I can’t just forget you Katerina. Please come to see me tomorrow. I can’t live without you. Seeing you here makes me ache to touch you. You are my first love and my last. You are my heart, my eyes, and my soul! God help me but I can’t do without you.”

  With those words, she knew she didn’t stand a chance. The following day she went to the north field and continued going there through October until it became too cold and rainy and the foliage couldn’t protect them from the elements any longer. But Michael had prepared for that eventuality and had worked on the little shepherd’s hut in the west field that had been there for years. He reinforced the walls and roof and strung a rod from one wall to the other in the middle of the hut. On the rod, he placed a thick curtain which effectively cut the room in half. Furthermore, he dug a small basement large enough to hold a couple of bodies and covered the area with boards. He brought in a little bunk and mattress, some sheets and blankets, a little table and two chairs. He thoroughly cleaned the small shepherd’s hut and placed a lock on the inside of the door. It was nothing fancy but it was fit for human habitation on at least a temporary basis.

  One warm and clear day in October, he took Katerina there to show her what he had done. She was relieved that she could continue to see him but was curious about the curtain dividing the room in the middle. He explained that it was just in case they had another close call with someone stopping by to look for him. Of course, he would try to head off anyone before opening the door, but he wanted more of a guarantee that no one would see her there. The small basement could be used to hide her if necessary.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  October was very drizzly and cloudy that year. Usually, October was a pleasant month with temperatures around seventy degrees Fahrenheit. The rainfall had started sooner than expected and there were only a few beautiful, clear days that month. The weather didn’t bother Katerina or Michael. They lived in their own, insulated little world and had enough warmth between them to warm up the island. November was also wetter than usual and didn’t have many days of sunshine.

  Katerina had stopped paying more than cursory attention to Giorgo and his family. She barely noticed them when they were around and didn’t think of them when they weren’t. So, the afternoon she heard the church bells ringing, she knew that someone had died but had no idea who it might be. There were a lot of older people in the village, and, while she might feel sad that someone was taken away, she was also glad that that person, if sick and elderly, would no longer have to suffer.

  She had been out picking greens, horta, to boil for dinner and heard the death knell of the bells from a distance. The bells rang slowly and somberly letting everyone know that a parishioner had passed away.

  When she arrived at home, she saw that a large gathering of the villagers was outside her house. She quickly ran to Kyria Sotyria who lived nearby to ask what had happened.

  Kyria Sotyria looked confrontationally at her and conveyed, “A great tragedy took place today. Giorgo and his parents went out to catch some fish this morning and they didn’t come back alive. The rain came up fiercely for a short time and capsized the boat. They weren’t very far out on the Aegean, but the storm was too strong for them to hold out against it. The saddest part of this is that they had become good Christians such a short time ago and would have provided much more to friends and fellow villagers if they had been allowed to live. But, God is great and knows what’s best. Of course, the good thing is that they had made room for God in their hearts and lives and now will have the opportunity to be united with Him.”

  Katerina was stunned! She was even more astounded when she grasped what the date was. It was November 29, 1920, just a year and a day since she had placed a curse on Giorgo. The curse had been for only one year, and if Giorgo was to be affected by it, he would have had to die by yesterday at the latest. Although she wouldn’t have felt unbearably guilty if Giorg
o had died because of the curse, still, she did have a sense of relief that she had had nothing to do with his death.

  She inquired, “Is Giorgo’s family inside the house washing and clothing the bodies? I imagine they are and that Father Kosta is in there with them.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what’s going on. They’ve been here for a few hours, so Father Kosta is probably at the point of sprinkling holy water on all four sides of the caskets so that the bodies may be placed inside. He’ll soon begin the prayer service for the dead. They’ll leave the bodies here until it’s time for the funeral service at the Church. With three bodies, it’s good that it is winter and they won’t decay too much in the three days until the funeral.”

  Three days later, Katerina saw the bodies transported to the Church. Everyone came to the house and formed a procession line, led by a deacon holding the cross. Father Kosta, chanting the Trisagion hymn, walked in front of the coffin with his censer, which was filled with lit incense, lightly swinging. The incense permeated the dense November air and lent even more sobriety to the procession.

  The coffins, taken into the Church feet first, were opened at the Church. A bowl of koliva—boiled wheat sweetened with sugar, honey, raisins or other dry fruit —was placed close to the head of each coffin and a lit candle was put on top of the bowls. This koliva is offered to all after the service in remembrance of the Lord's words: "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." (John 12:24 RSV). The candle on the koliva dish symbolized the cyclical nature of life and the sweetness of Heaven. Lit candles which were distributed to everyone and remained lit throughout the funeral service.