The Art of Becoming Homeless

by Sara Alexi

  ‘There’s been a bit of trouble with the internet. Of course I’ve tried. No, I understand. I take it you expect me to stay on for the meeting? Well, there’s no way of knowing if they are going to cancel again. No, I’ll keep in contact with them every day until then. Yes, no problem, OK.’

  ‘Not OK this time, I take it?’

  ‘Not OK.’ Michelle wipes her forehead on a piece of tissue she just found in her pocket. ‘I need a coffee.’

  The rich waiter Costas Voulgaris serves them, winking at Michelle.

  But Michelle feels too frustrated to even care.

  ‘First they don’t understand how such a thing could be put off—not once but twice. If they were here for even a day, they would see time is different here.’ She sounds cross. Dino chuckles.

  ‘It’s not funny. He mentioned again how the economic climate in England means everyone has to account for their job; it was a threat.’

  Dino stops laughing and leans back, crossing his ankles and sipping his coffee.

  ‘Then he lectured me for not dealing with an email he sent me. He doesn’t know I took a jolly the first weekend here, nor that I’ve been stuck here ever since with no internet and my laptop back at the hotel in Athens.’

  ‘What’s a “jolly”?’

  ‘You know, when you do something for the fun of it, not work related.’

  He nods and bites into his biscuit, licking the crumbs off his lips, distracting Michelle.

  ‘So whatever happens, I have to go back to Athens to get online.’

  ‘I thought your original plan was to go to Juliet’s in the village this next week coming?’

  ‘I was, but this postponement has scuppered that.’ She huffs and sinks in her chair.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I have to get online.’

  ‘Do you need your own computer?’

  ‘No. Oh, ah, you mean get online at Juliet’s?’ She perks up a little.

  He nods.

  ‘I don’t know. He was asking what I’d been working away at all this last week gone. I sidetracked him, but he’s right; I should have been working at something. It’s just Dolly’s death really shook me. I mean, how do I explain that to him?’ She puts on a silly voice: ‘I took the weekend off to go to an island, boss, and fell down a cliff on a donkey, bit shook up, staying on until the transport strike is over.’ She throws her head back and lets out a dry laugh. ‘It’s all beyond anyone’s imagination, let alone belief, sitting in a London office with not a donkey or an island in sight.’

  She steadies herself, takes a sip of coffee. ‘If I don’t buckle down this next week, there may not be a job to return to.’

  Dino grins. ‘So just because being stuck in a hotel in Athens with your laptop feels more grim than at Juliet’s, does that mean you will get more work done?’

  ‘Well, I might, probably would—although Juliet will be working too, so maybe not. At least I never called Juliet to cancel. I meant to but forgot.’

  ‘I told you Greece will sort things out for us.’ Dino has shut his eyes in the glare of the sun.

  ‘It’s not Greece, is it? It’s just a big mess.’

  Dino shrugs as if to say, ‘have it your own way.’

  ‘Is the strike still on?’

  He nods again, eyes still closed.

  ‘Is there any way off this island?’

  ‘We could take a water-taxi straight across to the mainland, but then there is no transport the other side.’ He shuffles up in his seat and opens his eyes to look across the water.

  ‘Hey, you want transport on the other side?’ Costas fills his tray with their used cups. Michelle’s hair swings with the speed she looks up. She had not seen him approach. ‘I’m going across; my car is parked over there. How far do you want to go?’

  ‘A village near Soros.’

  ‘Sure, I can drop you near. Come back when you are ready. Excuse me.’ He lightly trots to a group of undecided Germans. He chats easily to them in German until they make the decision to sit down.

  ‘You’re not kidding about Greece sorting things out,’ Michelle says to Dino.

  ‘I met some Greek Americans once who had come over to try and trace their ancestry. They arrived in Athens with no idea of how to begin and no idea or even where their pre-booked hotel was. So they asked the first passer-by if he knows the hotel. He said he would walk them there, and he asked if they were on holiday. They explained the purpose of their visit; he was their first cousin.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes’

  ‘I don’t believe it.’

  Dino lifts his hand, giving her the right to believe whatever she wants to believe.

  ‘Right, we’d better go, pay Zoe, get your bag.’ Michelle stands. Dino seems in no hurry to move.

  ‘You are back on British time, marching to the beat of London again. No hurry. Costas is here. He is not going anywhere without us.’

  ‘Yes, but we cannot keep him waiting.’

  ‘He isn’t waiting, he’s working.’

  ‘Well, I’m going.’

  Dino twists himself reluctantly out of his chair, and with a few easy strides, catches up with her.

  ‘A week’s reprieve.’ His hand hangs comfortably around her shoulders. She leans into him.

  ‘It has only deferred the problem.’ She lets her head nestle into his neck; he is only slightly taller than her.

  ‘It is not a problem. A problem is something you want to get rid of.’ He swivels his head and kisses her hair.

  Their march slows to a walk in the heat, the sea sparkling to their right, people swimming off the rocks. The walk becomes an amble.

  ‘How am I going to do it?’ Michelle asks. ‘Go back to that life, without you?’

  ‘Stay.’

  ‘Can’t. Anyway, you have to do the army. The alternative sounds untenable.’ Dino’s arm slips from her shoulders, his hand running down her arm until he finds her hand. ‘You are going to do the army, aren’t you?’

  Dino pulls his hand away and puts it in his front pocket and looks up at the sky as he walks.

  ‘Dino?’

  ‘Two years, Michelle. Well, eighteen months. How can I give that much of my life away?’

  ‘In order that you can do whatever you like with the rest.’ They turn inland towards Kyria Zoe’s. ‘That’s how the law works. We all agree to something and that makes society work. If we all don’t agree to it, we have war, anarchy. If one person does not agree but the rest do, then they have to accept the consequences set by the others.’

  ‘It’s just not right. I don’t want to learn to shoot guns.’

  ‘So you can conscientiously object. Serve your term some other way,’ Michelle says.

  ‘It is a criminal offence. There is man who has objected. They have given him a substitute service seven and a half times longer than his service would have been. He refused to do it because of its ludicrous length, so they have taken him to court again on the same charges. They try to intimidate you with prison or lengthy alternatives to make you comply.’

  ‘But that is in breach of the European Convention of Human Rights. I read it, quite recently in fact, on a legal website. The UN Commission on Human Rights Resolution 2002/45 says that states should refrain from using the legal system to force conscientious objectors to change their convictions.’

  ‘Tell the Greek government that.’

  ‘We could challenge them.’ Michelle’s sense of right and wrong bristles, her energies rise, ready for a fight.

  ‘Yeah, sure, I cannot even face my Baba and you are suggesting I stand up and fight the Greek government!’ His hand rises to his mouth, and chews on the side of his thumb.

  ‘Eighteen months is not long, Dino. Maybe you can apply to do something that does not involve guns?’

  They have reached Zoe’s.

  Zoe wishes them well, independently of each other, before waving them away.

  Dino slings his big bag over his shoulder. Michelle wishes her own life w
ere so compact.

  ‘Do you really object to the guns, or is it just that you don’t want your liberty taken away?’

  ‘I don’t want to have anything to do with guns, but it is also the liberty.’

  ‘If you really are a conscientious objector, I will fight in your corner. You won’t need to engage anyone.’

  ‘It would be a Greek court. You don’t speak Greek.’ Dino chuckles.

  ‘I mean it, Dino. I would find a way, but maybe they would give you an equivalent term in jail instead. Would that be preferable?’

  They have reached the coastal path and turn towards town. Both of them turn to see the sea view the other way, with the islands scattered to the horizon, the same view as from ‘their’ taverna. They reach for each other’s hands and their eyes meet before they walk on.

  ‘Greek jails are over-crowded and no money is spent on updating them. They are places only fit for animals. There are many bad stories. Violence rules. No, better to hold the gun than have one pointed at you.’

  ‘Interesting view,’ Michelle contemplates.

  ‘Why do we have nations anyway? It is such a primitive idea.’

  ‘Don’t tell me you are not proud to be Greek, because I won’t believe you.’ Dino lets go of her hand to change shoulders with his heavy bag. ‘Besides, I’m sure if someone came and threatened your mama when she was alive, just because she was Greek, you would defend her.’

  ‘Of course, but I would defend her if it was for her money or anything else.’

  ‘But you had the Turks here for four hundred years, would you not have defended the Greek way of life, the Greek traditions?’

  ‘I would have defended the right to have the Greek way of life. I would have defended liberty, not all things Greek.’ Dino changes the bag back to his other shoulder again and takes up her hand.

  ‘But you will not go to prison to defend that right?’ Michelle asks.

  ‘Who does that benefit? I would suffer in jail, the tax payer suffers to keep me there. It makes no sense.’

  ‘So by your own rules it is better to do your military service?’

  He tries to shrug but the bag is too heavy, it begins to slide off his shoulder, he lets go of Michelle’s hand quickly to catch it.

  ‘What’s in there anyway, Dino, the kitchen sink?’

  ‘Clothes mostly, and some mementoes that I keep with me, some books.’

  ‘I wish my life fitted into one bag.’

  ‘Right now it fits into even less than that; all you have is what you stand up in.’

  Michelle checks her money belt for her wallet, passport, and toothbrush; the three things that survived the donkey ride. She looks over to the sea. Somewhere at the bottom is her little rucksack with her guidebook. It seems like weeks ago since that day.

  The harbour comes into view. Her desire to see Juliet, talk things over with her, just to spend time, no longer seems as urgent as it had when she arrived. She still has no answers to her self-made trap in London, but somehow a contentment has settled inside her. Trusting in life, perhaps?

  Looking up to the convent she smiles. ‘Dino, how did Adonis know where to find you when you were up the stream bed?’

  Dino walks on, almost as if he hasn’t heard her. She waits.

  ‘It was where we had our picnic, the day I went with the goat herder and the goats.’

  ‘Oh. I am sorry.’

  ‘Adonis knows I go there to think, to talk to her, ask her views.’

  Loss through death has never touched Michelle’s life directly; she has no idea what to say.

  ‘You know if we go to the village you will have to face your father. It’s not big enough to avoid him.’

  He nods.

  ‘Will you be OK with that?’

  ‘It’s on my list: face Baba, decide what to do about the army, marry Michelle.’

  ‘What? Ha, ha ha, very funny!’ She swallows hard, plucks her tongue off the roof of her mouth and tries to breathe, slowing her pace to steady herself. The hairs on the back of her neck are standing on end and she is grinning.

  ‘I am serious.’ He drops his bag and turns to her. ‘Marry me?’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Dino, and pick your bag up or we will be late.’ Her hand strokes across her stomach, soothing its back flips. Her heartbeat throbs in her temple, in her chest. Her breathing has increased and there is a rushing in her ears. Blinking helps to restore her focus.

  Picking his bag up, he straightens. ‘I am serious.’ His voice cracks, full of emotion.

  Michelle glances sideways at him. He cannot be serious, but are those tears in his eyes?

  Foremost in her mind is his age, so young to make such a commitment.

  ‘I’ll tell you what, ask me again in six months’ time and I will take you seriously.’ She hopes this will soften her direct blow. She laughs, tries to make light of it. He smiles in response, and she pecks him on the cheek to show him that her feelings have not changed.

  ‘Isn’t that Costas standing there? Look, the guy with a bag by his feet. Come on.’ Michelle increases her speed. Dino continues his steady pace.

  ‘You act like you can’t wait to get off the island, back to the village.’

  Chapter 20

  She might as well have just punched him in the stomach. So tactless, but he had caught her so off guard. She could never in a million years have seen that coming. What do you say to such things? She is not at a stage in her life when she can offer a spontaneous response; everything these days needs consideration, find the implications, the resulting ripples. But marriage!

  Dino pulls his t-shirt straight from under the bag on his shoulder. It was not a real response, because she was surprised, but no more than he was. If he had known he was going to say such a thing he would ... well, he is not sure what he would have done differently, but perhaps not tag it onto the end of a sentence like that. Bought a ring maybe, gone down on one knee, done it properly. Now she thinks he isn’t serious. Well, he said it, so it must have come from some deep desire?

  They continue to walk along towards Costas, Dino lost in his thoughts.

  What would marrying her really mean? It wouldn’t change anything; she still has her life in London, and he still has to either return to London, if they will let him out of the country, or do the army if he stays. There, that is it! If she is married to him she has to wait whilst he does his service, be there when he is released, visit him on the free weekends, and the weeks of home leave, she will be there for him.

  ‘Hey, there you are. Deep in thought, Dino? Nothing wrong, I hope.’ Costas greets Dino with a firm hand on his shoulder and Michelle with a smile and a glint in his eye.

  Dino tries to snap out of his thoughts, but they linger heavily in his mind.

  ‘I just remembered something, I’ll be five minutes,’ and off Costas trots back across the flagstones, between tables, under the canvas shade into his café.

  ‘Have you said goodbye to Adonis?’ Michelle asks.

  ‘No, I’ll go now.’ He sets off, taking Michelle by the hand.

  Round the corner from the harbour, the café is open. Mellow music drifts out onto the street, the outside tables are full. Adonis surveys the sea of customers, alert for a beckoning raised hand.

  ‘Hey file, pos paei?’ Adonis says in his mother tongue. It is easy to forget that Michelle doesn’t understand, so Dino returns the greeting in the same language.

  ‘I’m going up to the village, face my Baba.’ He stuffs his hands in his front pockets.

  Adonis’ own hand is quickly on his friend’s shoulder, supporting, encouraging. ‘Oh, my friend, I wish I could be there with you. Maybe it won’t be as harsh as you are expecting?’

  Dino swallows and just looks at his friend.

  ‘There is no greater fear than fear itself.’ Adonis smiles, his hand slips back to his side. ‘She going with you?’

  ‘Yes.’ He hesitates. What would Adonis say if he knew he had just proposed to her? Would he laugh, would
he warn him off, would he give his blessing?

  ‘I think underneath her judgemental attitude, her heart is good. Someone like you will only improve her.’ He smiles.

  Dino senses that Michelle knows she is being talked about. He lets go of her hand and puts his arm around her.

  ‘Good luck then,’ Adonis says in English.

  The water taxi takes twenty minutes to get them to the mainland, and Costas’ car looks abandoned, covered with dust, next to the tiny jetty. Opening the doors lets the heat from inside force its way out, making each of them step back. There is a biro on the dashboard that has bent with the heat, and a bottle of water on the back seat which is too hot to touch.

  Costas insists Michelle, being the lady, sit in the front, and it is not long before a gentle rhythmic breathing is heard from Dino in the back, which is fine as Costas is intelligent, amusing company. They talk on many subjects until Michelle begins to recognise the roads, and finally they are just outside the village.

  ‘Can you drop us here? I would love to walk into the village, take it slowly, remind myself of everything.’

  ‘Sure, but be sure to stay in touch, come visit, or if I come to London I would like to take you to a West End show.’ He grins. Michelle feels she has found a friend.

  Dino wakes with a start and is disorientated until he looks around him as he climbs out of the air-conditioned car into the full blaze of the sun.

  ‘It’s not as hot here as the island, is it?’ Michelle comments.

  ‘It is all stone and paved streets on Orino. There is nowhere for the heat to be absorbed. Here there are the orange groves.’ She can hear a tension in his voice. For him, coming here is not a happy prospect; for her, she cannot wait to see Juliet.

  The lane narrows; it is pitted, the tarmac non-existent in places, buildings nestled into the landscape ahead. As they near the village, Michelle recognises things: the school on a corner, the railing around it, each upright painted a different colour; a curve in the road, then a long, straight street with well-tended gardens in front of traditional houses on either side. Blue shutters, crumbling greying whitewash. An old-fashioned garage. Michelle remembers it from the petrol pumps: they look like a poster for nineteen-fifties America, block tops and tapering bases. Looking ahead she recognises the square. Walking slowly, soaking it all in, she feels very different about Greece, about herself, compared with the last time she visited.