The Flow

by Effrosyni Moschoudi

  Sofia gave a shiver as she took the letter from Loula’s hands. “It’s so humid tonight, it’s unreal.”

  “I know,” said Loula, “The cool breeze coming from the mountains sure doesn’t help.”

  “So, what does it say? Have you read it?” asked Sofia as she opened the letter and ran her eyes over the first two lines.

  “I’ll let you read it. I won’t say a thing!” replied her friend, pursing her lips. Sofia caught the hint of mystery in her voice and looked up to find her bursting to speak.

  “Tell me!” she urged her.

  Loula widened her eyes and gestured wildly in response. “No! Go on, read it! I can’t wait to see your face.”

  A short silence ensued while Sofia read quickly through Steve’s news and then, when she finally got to the last paragraph, she let out a mad squeal that was all Loula had hoped for and more.

  “Huh!” exclaimed Loula. “Korina was right after all!”

  “So, the place where The Lady asked me to meet her is actually the West Pier?”

  “It looks like it, Sofia.”

  “Regency Square . . . and Regent’s Hotel . . . How similar they sound! And just how crazy is it that the West Pier should be across from the former, and our sports pier here should be across from the latter. Is that mind-boggling or what?”

  Loula raised her brows, her eyes huge. “A lot!”

  “And King’s Road is the street that runs past the West Pier! Who would have known? It sort of proves The Lady is real, right?”

  Loula opened her mouth to speak, but then an urgent call from Sofia’s grandmother stopped her. The girls shared a little laugh and turned to go.

  Thinking that Gran was calling Sofia to come for dinner, Loula didn’t go all the way to Sofia’s yard, but instead headed straight home from the village path. Sofia waved back to her and promptly returned home. There, she found her grandparents standing side by side in the middle of the yard. This wasn’t a call for dinner, and Sofia knew instantly. They both looked ashen, as if cut from marble.

  “Yiayia? Pappou?” She looked from one to the other, her mouth gaping open. Their eyes were intense, full of fear. “What happened?”

  “Uncle Lilis just called. It’s your cousin, Dora. She’s had a road accident,” said Gran in a shaky voice, rushing to take Sofia by the shoulders.

  “Oh my God! Where? How?”

  “Let’s go inside,” urged Granddad, turning to go first. With this bleak expression on his face, he looked older than he was. Even his usual limp seemed more laboured, as if it pained him to stand.

  “Ela, Pappou,” mumbled Sofia, offering him her arm to lean on and step inside. To her surprise, he didn’t refuse the help. Inside, they all sat around the table, the frying pan at the centre. The eggs in tomato sauce were ready to eat, though now of course, none of them had the appetite for it.

  “So? What happened? How is she?” asked Sofia.

  “It’s all your uncle’s fault. She let her ride a scooter with one of her girlfriends,” burst out Granddad.

  “A scooter? Is she all right?”

  Gran threw a fiery glance at her husband. “This is not the time to point fingers. Let’s see about our Dora first. Poor, poor darling . . .”

  “Yiayia, is she okay?” Sofia asked again.

  Gran shook her head. Across the table from her, Granddad hung his head low, a hand planted firmly on his clammy forehead.

  Gran gave a laboured sigh. “It’s not good, agape mou. She hurt her head badly and has many broken bones in her body too. Neither she nor her friend were wearing a helmet.”

  “What do the doctors say?”

  “They’re doing tests and if need be, they’ll send her to the hospital in Ioannina. She’s in a coma.”

  “A coma? Oh, my God!” said Sofia, the breath catching in her throat, her insides beginning to twist and burn.

  “They were going too fast . . . too fast . . .” lamented Granddad.

  “Were they?”

  Gran sighed. “They swerved to avoid a truck overtaking from the opposite direction . . . and somehow, they got off the road and hit a wall.”

  “And the other girl? How is she?”

  “She got injured too, Sofia mou, although a lot less. Bruises, cuts and a couple of broken ribs, but at least she’s conscious.”

  “How come Dora hurt herself more?”

  “Dora was driving at the time, that’s why.” Gran’s voice came out croaky, thick with regret. “Her friend told the doctors Dora insisted to have a go riding it, and in the end she let her, even though she doesn’t hold a licence. That’s when it happened. When they were propelled forward, the girl on the back had Dora to land on in a way, but your cousin had nothing but the wall to break her fall.”

  ***

  The evening unfolded in the same fashion: with upset, worry and constant phone calls from the hospital. Dora’s parents kept phoning to keep them all up-to-date. At least, young Nana had been spared from all that, having been sent to sleep over at a friend’s house.

  When the phone rang the fourth time that evening, the news had gotten worse.

  “Aunt, she has a serious hematoma,” Uncle Lilis told Gran. “The doctors fear the worst now. They say that unless she wakes up soon, it might mean she could lose her mobility all together, and even her life itself.” His voice trailed off and in the background, Gran heard Aunt Rini crying with sobs.

  Gran’s voice came out in a whisper. “Pray. That’s what we’re doing here, too.”

  “Thank you . . .” His voice wavered.

  “Hang on a minute. Your uncle wants to talk to you.”

  Granddad Stefanos took the receiver and cleared his throat. He drew a shallow breath and tipped his chin. Sofia saw his eyes then. This was the first time she had ever seen her granddad cry. Inside, within a split second, her heart burst and then shattered into smithereens.

  “Nephew, don’t lose faith. I am too old to come and visit you tonight, but I’m there with you now in spirit, you know that.”

  A sob escaped from Uncle Lilis’s lips. “The doctors say to be ready for all eventualities.” His voice trembled, and he gave a deep sigh that echoed heavy across the line, severe and unstoppable, like a mighty force of nature.

  “If this is the case, then I will be there early tomorrow morning with your aunt and Sofia. I’ll make sure to ask my boys to come over too. In times like these, a family must stick together.”

  “Thank you, Uncle. Thank you. You’ve always been like a father to me.”

  “And I always will be. Courage! We’ll see you tomorrow. But until then, if there’s any news, don’t hesitate to call us.” Granddad unglued his eyes from the far wall and cast his pained gaze at his grief-stricken wife, then at his equally distraught granddaughter. “I don’t think anyone will get much sleep under this roof tonight.”

  When he put the receiver down, Granddad turned to his wife. “Can you call both our sons for me please? I need them both here. We’ve always handled our tragedies together as a family. If tomorrow brings a new one for us, I want to make sure we’re all here together to meet it.”

  Chapter 35

  At first light the next morning, Uncle Yiannis arrived at the village square in his car to drive his parents and niece to town. As soon as they got to the hospital, they sought directions to the emergency ward. There, Sofia was the first one to notice her aunt and uncle sitting in the corridor, huddled up limply against each other. On the bench next to Uncle Lilis, stood a half-empty plastic cup of stale coffee. He had lost interest in it hours earlier.

  “You’re here! Thank you so much,” burst Aunt Rini, tears welling up in her eyes, as she took turns with her husband to hug their family members. They all sat back down numbly and for a few moments, their focus was to get Granddad to sit as comfortably as possible on the hard bench.

  “Don’t mind me,” said Granddad, waving all attention away from himself. “Tell us the latest. How is our Dora?”

  The mention of the gi
rl’s name, caused her mother to cry softly again. Her husband put an arm around her and squeezed her against him. He’d been a tower of strength for her all these hours. It hadn’t taken many words, but his warm embrace as he sat with her at their daughter’s bedside all night, had made this terrible ordeal bearable.

  “We last saw the doctor about an hour ago. Her condition is stable, but they’re doing some new tests now. She’s still in a coma,” said Uncle Lilis, shaking his head forlornly.

  “May St Spyridon help her!” piped up Gran, crossing herself, causing everyone to bend their heads down for a few moments, both in reverence and silent prayer.

  Time passed slowly in the ward, as the family waited. Just before midday, having taken an early morning flight, Sofia’s father, Antonis, arrived at the ward to meet them.

  “Antoni mou!” burst out Gran when she saw him coming down the corridor, holding a small gym back in one hand. It had been two years since she’d last seen him. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she held him.

  Everyone took turns to hug and kiss him, and when he sat down feeling rather overwhelmed, his father put out a hand and patted his son’s. “Thank you for coming, Antonis. It means a lot to me.”

  “Of course, Father. Let’s hope our Dora pulls through and soon. I pray to God that she does,” he replied, then flung out his other arm to put it around his daughter’s shoulders. Sofia returned his silent gaze and gave a numb little smile, her mind tortured by fears of the worst possible conclusion. As if guessing, her father caressed her hair then. “Chin up,” he said. “Our Dora is strong. She’ll be fine, you’ll see. She’ll wake up soon.”

  “How’s Mum?” answered Sofia, eager to change the subject and to engage in conversation. Her mind felt heavy and dark. As time progressed, she’d found she could handle her own intimidating thoughts less and less.

  “She’s fine, agape mou. I called her from the airport when I landed. She sends her love to you all.”

  Another hour passed, and a nurse came out to invite them inside Dora’s room, two at a time. Although it was very upsetting, they all felt a bit comforted to be able to see her. There was still no advancement, no change.

  By late afternoon, Rini and Lilis started to prompt Sofia’s grandparents to take a taxi home with their granddaughter.

  “Really, there’s no need to stay here, Uncle. If there’s any news, we’ll make sure to call you,” said Lilis, but Grandad shook his head.

  “Please, Uncle, go home and rest,” pressed Rini. “Yiannis, you have your restaurant to run. And you, Antonis, you should go too. You’ve flown from Athens for us today. We’re so grateful. But please, go get some rest. You could always come back tomorrow, if you like.”

  “And what about you? You need to go home and rest too,” said Gran. “You’ve been here since last night. Let us stay here tonight, or at least, some of us, and you go home and sleep.”

  Lilis and Rini shook their heads in unison. “No. My daughter will open her eyes soon. I know it. And I want to be here when she does,” said Rini, placing a hand on her own chest.

  In the end, having succumbed to everyone’s insistence, Sofia’s grandparents took a taxi home with the promise to return the following morning. Sofia stayed behind with her father and Uncle Yiannis, to keep company to Dora’s parents till the evening. And so they did, trying to keep their minds occupied with idle talk. Lilis, Antonis and Yiannis would take turns in buying coffee, refreshments and the odd snack, and all of them would try the best they could to keep their spirits high and their hopes up, somehow.

  It seems that in times like these, faith in the divine is what truly keeps one sane. Luckily, the hospital chapel was a stone’s throw away. By nightfall, Sofia and her aunt had visited it together three times to light a candle and to say a silent prayer. The ward grew darker as the light outside began to fade. Gradually, all over the hospital and out in the parking lot, lights began to flicker and come on, one after another.

  It was around eight p.m. when Lilis’s insides started to tug and burn from a multitude of coffees on an empty stomach. Giving in to his wife’s insistence, the two of them headed to the cafeteria to try to get some food down. Sofia sat on the bench in the corridor with her father and uncle, leafing through a teenage magazine she’d bought earlier that day from a nearby kiosk. She was so tired, all she could do by then is look idly at the glossy pictures. Reading any text was out of the question at this hour. Not only due to her eyes straining, but also because her weary mind wouldn’t even begin to register it.

  “You know, I cannot believe this is happening,” burst out Uncle Yiannis as soon as Dora’s parents had left, causing Sofia and her father to whip their heads around, startled. Their eyes were sunk in their sockets, all energy drained out of them. With their blood pressure down from exhaustion, they looked at him for a few moments in a detached way, as if they were two ghosts, both lost to the world, facing an intruding mortal, who had dared interrupt their well-earned rest.

  “Let’s hope our Dora wakes soon,” said Antonis, tight-lipped, looking away again, but inside he was cringing. He didn’t like the tone of voice his brother had just used. He was only too aware of Yiannis’s occasional dramatic outbursts and desperately hoped he wasn’t about to witness one of those again. One of the benefits of living in Athens was that he didn’t have to put up with his antics any more. Well, except for those his brother still managed now and then with his phone calls to Athens.

  “No, you don’t understand what I mean,” said Yiannis.

  Antonis, looking the other way and pretending to gaze at the descending darkness beyond the window pane, visibly flinched but said nothing.

  “Antonis, you won’t believe what Lilis told me in confidence earlier,” Yiannis pressed then, causing his brother to finally turn to face him, his brow deeply creased with apprehension.

  “Do I even want to know? Because frankly, Yiannis, unless this is relevant to our Dora and her dire situation, I am just too tired for idle gossip.”

  “Gossip? It’s anything but gossip!” said Yiannis, looking appalled. He cast a tender glance at Sofia then, and pointed at her before speaking again. “You have a daughter the same age! You ought to know what Lilis did. God forbid, you don’t want to be in his shoes, ever.”

  “For God’s sake, Yiannis. Just say it, if it means you’ll leave me in peace afterwards.” He shook a finger at him and gritted his teeth. “Don’t try my patience. Not today. I’ve been up since four a.m., our niece is in there fighting for her life, and I am in no mood for one of your lectures on proper parenting.”

  Sofia watched, her jaw slack. She’d never heard her father talk to her uncle like that before. He’d always been so polite with him and so patient. Then again, she didn’t remember seeing her father so emotionally drained before. Sofia watched the two brothers as her father waited, agitation colouring his expression more and more brightly with every passing second, while Yiannis eyed him back with an expression of self-righteousness, suddenly unsure if this was the right time or not to relay what he’d been told. In the end, he shrugged his shoulders and heaved a long sigh.

  “I guess I cannot judge. I have no children like you or Lilis.” He shook his head wistfully. “Not that I didn’t want a family. It just didn’t happen for me.”

  “Yiannis, I am sorry,” said Antonis in the end, letting out a long exhalation. “I am just tired. I didn’t mean to—”

  Yiannis raised a hand. “No, it’s okay, Antonis. You don’t have to. I know I may intrude sometimes, but I assure you, I mean well. There’s no badness in me, as you know.”

  Antonis gave a little smile and finally relaxed. He sat back on the bench, resting his head against the wall. “So tell me, what was it that Lilis said?”

  “Oh, Yiannis . . . He made a terrible mistake. And now, look at what happened.”

  “What on earth did he do?”

  “He was too embarrassed to admit it openly, but he confided in me, Antonis. You see, Dora wasn’t out with a gir
lfriend as he told you all; she was out with a boy. She was on a date . . . You know, with a boyfriend . . .” Yiannis rolled his eyes as he uttered the last word, as if it were something unheard of.

  Antonis knitted his brows. “A boyfriend?”

  “Yes. Believe it or not, Dora had told her parents about the boy, and they knew him and everything. I mean, the girl is what? Twenty? And they trust her to go out with a boy on a motorbike!”

  Antonis bowed his head and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. “Oh, I don’t know. Let’s not judge, Yiannis . . .” This was so wrong a subject for someone so tired and he knew it.

  “But don’t you see? Deep down, they both know they shouldn’t have let her go out riding a bike with some guy. Can you just imagine their guilt right now? Lilis was distraught when he confided in me earlier, and he said as much. I mean, they didn’t even dare tell you, did they? They said it was a girl that Dora had the accident with.”

  “Yiannis, I wish you’d stop. This is not the right time to pass judgement.” His voice came out calm, but it was firm too.

  “Brother, I am sorry if I gave you the wrong idea,” Yiannis said, raising his hands, palms facing upwards. “I’m not judging. I’m merely stating this major mistake on their part. All I’m saying is this could have been so easily avoided. You know how much I love Lilis, Dora, and everyone. Our Sofia, especially,” he added, casting a tender gaze at the young girl again.

  Once more, as he often did, his look lingered upon her a tad longer than was customary. Once again, it made her skin crawl. As soon as he averted his eyes, Sofia visibly flinched. What is wrong with him?

  “The wrong idea?” replied Antonis, raising his voice. “You’re clearly judging! Have you no shame? Our poor niece is in a coma in there for God’s sake! And you’re here airing your self-righteous views on me again! Aren’t you tired? Aren’t you done yet intervening in every way you can, for all these years?”