Finding You

by Jo Watson

  I tried to stifle a gasp as Dimitri bent imaginary me over and his hands came down in spanking gestures. I quickly closed the door. This was horrifying. I needed to get out of here, but there was no way I was doing the walk of shame through his living room and out his front door.

  Then I looked at the window. It was small, but big enough to climb through. I could climb out and make a run for it, and deal with how to get back to my hotel later. Then I would pack my bags and get off this island as fast as humanly possible. I would never have to see Dimitri again, ever. I could forget this night and this stupid quest I had come on and just go home. I couldn’t believe I was actually considering taking Stormy’s advice. I would probably, under normal circumstances, take my mother’s advice over Stormy’s… but desperate times.

  I grabbed my bag—it felt even heavier this morning, or maybe I was just weaker from all the night’s activities—and started climbing through the window. Luckily it was round and smooth so there were no sharp corners to contend with. But it only took a few seconds to realize what a bad idea this had been, and by then it was too late.

  The window didn’t actually lead out into the street, but seemed to lead onto the retaining wall that bordered the neighbor’s property. I should have known: These houses were packed together like sardines. An ear-piercing shriek rang out and I realized I was looking directly into an old woman’s bedroom. I held my hand up indicating that she shouldn’t panic. I was friendly, I wasn’t here to rob her of her life savings, but she continued to scream. She got louder and louder. Suddenly she ran outside and turned on the hose. The water hit me with such force that it stung.

  The pelting continued for what seemed like ages. Then I heard a man’s voice, and another, and the steady stream of water stopped. I looked through the wet curtain of hair covering my face and to my horror Dimitri and his friend stood there. Another neighbor had come out to see what all the commotion was about, and at least eight more people had emerged from the house next door. How many people lived there?

  Greek was being screamed and hand gestures were being thrown around. I stared in horror at the scene that had broken out in front of me. I tried to wiggle free from the window… and that’s when I realized I was stuck. How can this moment get any worse?

  Dimitri stepped forward. “What are you doing?”

  I felt lost. Every little bit of self-respect I had, every iota of sense and sanity and any filter that had once existed… were all gone. I felt empty, and although I was now surrounded by at least ten people, I had never felt so alone in my entire life. I had nothing to lose right now. I had already lost it all. I was wet, nauseous, headachy, and way past feeling embarrassed.

  I opened my mouth and the rage tumbled out. “What the hell does it look like, Dimitri?” I yelled. “I should think it would be pretty damn obvious to everyone, wouldn’t it?” I looked pointedly at my audience.

  The people all stepped a little closer; they were gathering in droves now. They actually looked excited, foaming at the mouth as if they were watching an episode of Dr. Phil where the results of the polygraph were about to be revealed. Only this was real. This was my life and it had completely fallen apart. Ripped at the seams and exploded.

  “Why didn’t you come through the house?” His tone was soft and gentle. God, it pissed me off.

  “Why? Why?” I wailed at the top of my lungs, which seemed to cause more heads to pop out of windows and passersby to stop. “Maybe it’s because I don’t want to make the walk of shame past you and him”—I pointed an accusing finger at the man next to him—“after you so explicitly showed him how we had you-know-what last night. Which we should never, ever, never, ever, do you hear me… ever!”—I yelled that last word—“ever have done.” There was wild mania to my voice now. I had officially crossed over into the dark side and it wasn’t pretty. The look that washed over Dimitri’s face was one of shock, followed by horror and maybe even pain. Then he rushed up to me.

  “Jane. There’s nothing wrong with making love.”

  I burst out laughing hysterically—think pack of hyenas in mating season. “Make love. Make love?” I wailed at the top of my voice, which had a high-pitched, shrill quality to it. “What a load of shit! What’s with you Greeks and all this love and romance? Island of love this, and island of love that!”

  A few more roars of laughter rose up from some of the neighbors, and amused words were thrown around in Greek. He turned to the crowd and shouted at them, which only seemed to spur more laughter from the whole peanut gallery.

  “Jane, I would never tell anyone what happened between us last night.”

  “Then what was all this about?” I tried to mime the smacking hand movements that he had made this morning. More laughter rose up. Someone even clapped.

  “And you lot can all stop laughing at me!” I shot angry dagger looks at everyone, which shut some of them up.

  He looked confused for a moment or two, then, “Jane, this is the plumber, Dimitri. I was just telling him about my burst pipe last week.”

  At this, I screeched. My vocal cords felt like someone had just run sandpaper over them. “And that’s the other thing about this place… why is everyone named Dimitri? Huh? Can’t someone be named Christo, or Nic or Meze-madopolo-poulus-stuses or one of those other Greek-sounding names? But no, it has to be Dimitri so it’s impossible for me to come here and find my biological father who also happens to be, surprise, big surprise, Dimitri!”

  I slapped my hand on the windowsill to try to give vent to the feelings that were overwhelming me. “I hate it here. I hate Greece. I hate all your stupid dipping sauces and potted plants and your bougainvillea and I hate your coffee and I’m allergic to cats by the way! And most of all, I hate myself for coming here. How did I think I was ever going to find him? I mean, all I know is that his name is Dimitri and twenty-five years ago he was a tour guide sailing the fucking seas, or whatever else he did. That’s all. That’s it. I don’t even know which island he’s on! My biological ‘mother,’ Phoebe, who wants nothing to do with me I might add, didn’t bother telling me that little piece of info and I only discovered yesterday that there are two hundred and twenty-seven inhabited islands. Let that sink in, people.” I turned to the crowd, who all seemed transfixed (this had become a full-blown dramatic monologue). “I would need a lifetime to look on every island for him.”

  I hung my head in silence. There was a sense of anticipation buzzing in the air; everyone was hanging on my every word, and I knew they were waiting for more. Waiting to watch the train wreck crash and burn even harder, and I didn’t care that I was giving them what they wanted.

  “And then there’s stupid me. Who comes here and does the exact same thing her biological mother did. And I vowed I would never be anything like her, ever. I don’t want to be anything like the woman who gave me away because I meant nothing to her.” My voice caught in my throat. “And now I’ll never meet my father—and I’ll never find out where I come from or where I belong. I’ll never know who the hell I really fucking am and that’s why I’m climbing out of your window, Dimitri!” My awareness of the crowd disappeared and an internal silence fell over me. I could hear a whisper of the most painful loss I’ve ever experienced in my life.

  “I just want to go home. Please. I just want to go home and forget that any of this happened.” When I looked up again, everyone’s faces had changed. They were looking at me with a mixture of sympathy and shock. A few were muttering to one another in Greek and nodding.

  Then the old woman stepped closer. “Perhaps,” she said in very broken English, “the man you are looking for you cannot find, until you find yourself.”

  I gazed down at this little woman who had gone all Deepak Chopra on me. “What does that even mean?” I said to her. But deep down, I knew. There was something in that statement that cut me to my core and resonated with something deep inside.

  “Jane.” Dimitri spoke softly, as the audience had started to clear. “Just come down from there.
”

  “I can’t.” I was defeated.

  “Yes, you can!”

  “No, you don’t understand. I’m stuck.”

  He walked over and studied me. God, this couldn’t get any more humiliating if I were naked.

  Dimitri smiled at me, a soft, sweet smile that just made me want to cry, if I knew how to. “The strap of your bag is hooked on the window clasp. Let me help you.” His hand shot up and he wiggled the bag free. He pulled it toward himself and as he did, something slipped out.

  I watched in slow-motion horror as Dimitri’s cardboard head gracefully flew out of the bag and wafted down to the ground, where it elegantly landed by his feet.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I sat in the back of the cab that Dimitri had called for me. I was still damp from the hosing I’d received but at least he’d been kind enough to not acknowledge his cardboard head. He’d helped me out of the window and ushered me inside. He’d then tried to sit me down, calm me, feed me, pacify me, and tell me to stay.

  But all I wanted to do was get home and resume the life I’d created for myself. I needed to stop asking myself all these stupid existential questions about who I was and where I came from and just accept that I was Jane Smith. Twenty-five, half Greek, adopted dentist who still felt like a foreigner in her own family. People had it so much worse than me and here I was complaining. After fetching my bags from my hotel and checking out, I walked into the airport in a weird ghostly state. I soon ascertained that the only flight back home was the next day and it was full. The best they could do was put me on standby and see what happened. The reservationist was positive, though. “So many people decide not to go home. They fall in love with Greece, or a man, and they stay.” She’d winked at me. Clearly she didn’t know who I was.

  For a split second I thought about going back out there and booking myself into a hotel, but it was clear by now that Greece and I did not agree with each other. I didn’t want to be in Greece, and airports are considered neutral territory anyway—neither here nor there. At least I wasn’t in Greece when I stood inside this building.

  I spent the next few hours walking aimlessly up and down the international terminal. My phone beeped again with more birthday messages from my family. I ignored them all. I just wanted to forget that I had even been born. It wasn’t even dark outside yet, but I was exhausted. I’d do what those people stranded in airports for days because of some freak snowstorm do—make myself a little nest on the chairs and settle in. I rolled up one of my shirts and used it for a pillow as I stretched out across three rather uncomfortable seats. I pulled my phone out.

  WHATSAPP GROUP: Jane goes to Greece

  Jane: I’m coming home.

  Annie: What? Why?

  Val: So soon?

  Jane: This thing just hasn’t worked out. You were right. It’s impossible to find my father.

  Annie: I’m so sorry.

  Lilly: And what happened to the guy?

  Jane: Long story.

  Lilly: Let us know when you’re home and we’ll come over. XX

  Val: I’ll bring the wine.

  Stormy: U musn:t comes home ! YoU nnot finished there yetr

  Jane: What the hell does that even mean?

  Stormy: just don;t gET on that plane. STay there

  Jane: Not going to happen!!!!

  I put my phone back into my bag, closed my eyes, and felt the pain wash over me. I’d wanted to find my father more than anything in the world. Finding him was the last hope I had of finding myself. Without him I was doomed to a life of never knowing. Floating nebulously from one concept of myself to another, not quite Jane, but not quite Tracy, either. Not really Greek, but not really a South African… just nobody. A nameless, faceless ghost of a person.

  I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and became aware of a soft voice. I must have fallen asleep.

  “Jane?”

  I opened my eyes and through the strands of hair hanging in my eyes, Dimitri’s face came into focus. He gave me a small smile, and I felt his fingertips push a strand of wayward hair out of my face. He dropped down to the floor and sat cross-legged in front of me. I didn’t move; instead I lay there looking at him sideways.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to ask you to stay,” he said, looking straight into my eyes. It didn’t look like he was joking.

  “That’s not going to happen. I’m going home.”

  “Just hear me out. I’ve got a proposition for you.”

  This vaguely piqued my interest and I sat up in my chair, crossing my legs under me. I wondered what kind of proposition this guy could have for me after everything that had happened between us.

  “I called a private investigator,” he said. At those words I sat up straight. Why the fuck didn’t I think of that?

  “And?” I asked anxiously.

  “He thinks he can help find your father.”

  Excitement bubbled in my veins and I almost shot out of my seat, but then as fast as it bubbled, it diffused. “It’s too late. This was such a stupid thing to do. I need to stop looking for answers I’ll never find and just get on with the life I have.”

  “Jane, you came here for a reason. Don’t leave without trying one more time. Please.”

  “How does the investigator think he’s going to find him anyway? I have nothing to go on other than his name and what he did.”

  “Well…” Dimitri paused for a moment and looked around. “He said something about looking at flight manifests from that time and seeing if he could find a South African flight with someone called Phoebe on it. Then he said something about cross-referencing that with a list of travel agencies from that time on that island… anyway, he said he thought it could be done. Not definitely, but possibly.”

  “Possibly?” I tried to hold them back and rein them in, but my excitement levels skyrocketed. Would I really be able to find him? I looked over at Dimitri and could see there was more. “So what are you proposing?”

  “Stay for a few days while the investigator searches for him and come with me on a tour of the islands. Let me show you Greece, Jane. Let me show you how beautiful this place is and let me show you what it means to be Greek and—”

  “No.” I crossed my arms crossed my chest. “I’d rather sit here for a few days than go back out there… with you.”

  Dimitri got up off the floor and sat next to me. “I’m really sorry about what happened last night. I shouldn’t have let it go that far.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes, I am. But it was just so hard to stop…” He briefly looked at me and then broke eye contact again.

  “It was?” I asked.

  He nodded. “I’d thought about it so many times since meeting you, and then when you asked me to and… but I shouldn’t have.”

  “So you regret it all? I see.” I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice, which embarrassed me to no end.

  “No! I don’t regret what happened. Just how it happened.”

  I shrugged. “I suppose. I wasn’t really myself last night.” A long silence kicked in and we sat side by side saying nothing to each other for the longest time until eventually Dimitri broke it.

  “Jane, let me show you around. Let me be your tour guide. You came here looking for something; let me help you find it. What happened last night won’t happen again. I promise.”

  “And you really think this investigator can find my father?” I couldn’t believe I was seriously considering his proposal. But I was.

  “If there’s one person that can, it’s him.”

  I nodded slowly. My head was swimming with all this new information and with his proposal. I was also thinking about Stormy’s words, “don’t get on that plane.” And a part of me didn’t want to. But then again, look what had happened last time I’d listened to her.

  “So what is your daily rate then?” I asked.

  “My what?” This question seemed to throw him.

  “If this is going to be a profes
sional relationship, I want to know how much you cost?” I pulled my wallet out of my bag and opened it. I only had fifty euros.

  He shrugged. “Leave that for now, we can talk about it later.”

  I shook my head. “You are providing me with a service, so I’m going to pay you.”

  He sighed and looked into my wallet. “Fifty euros is fine.” He held his hand out reluctantly, and I placed the money in his palm. Somehow paying him made me feel better about what I was about to do. I was hiring a professional tour guide for the duration of my stay in Greece. Simple. Clean.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled halfheartedly as he shoved the note in his pocket. “Now come. Do you really want to spend your birthday in an airport?”

  “How did you know?” I asked.

  “I saw your birth date on your passport.”

  “Oh. That.”

  “Come. I want to show you something.” He stood up and looked at me expectantly.

  “What?”

  “Trust me.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  We drove for ages in total silence. It felt awkward in the small space together, especially given that inconvenient little thing about us having sex with each other last night. I was desperately trying not to think about it, but every time his hand shot out to change a gear I wanted to either grab it and put it on my leg, or slap it away for daring to be so close to me. Dimitri finally stopped driving and pulled into a large and busy parking lot.

  “This is the town of Oia, and you haven’t lived until you’ve seen the sunset here.”

  We climbed out of the car and started walking, slowly. I looked around; more of those quaint little cave houses were dug into the steep slope of the town. We turned and walked down a narrow cobbled street. Oia was very much like Fira, with white cobblestones and whitewashed houses. Everything had that warm white glow but for the splash of a blue gate, or a hanging basket of bright-red flowers and bougainvillea.