Where the Bougainvillea Grows

by Gary Cleaver

  “Windsor, Ontario, not much of a place to be honest with you, but I like it”

  “Ah, I have always wanted to visit Canada, the lakes and the mountains, I have heard it is very beautiful.”

  “Well, Windsor isn’t exactly the wilderness you know, if you stand in Dieppe Park and you can throw a decent fast ball, you’ll likely as not hit a drug dealer in downtown Detroit.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh god I’m talking too fast aren’t I…tell you what Vassilli I’ll make you a deal, my mother was Greek and for the first few years of my life she spoke the language to me all the time, so my Greek isn’t bad, you speak good English, so I will speak Greek to you and can speak English to me and we can take it slow and we can correct each other as we go, how’s that?”

  “Ok, it’s a deal.”

  She turned herself in her seat so that she faced him, she touched his arm, “That’s great”

  There was a momentary pause as they both collected their thoughts.

  HE: Well, Vassilli, the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and what a fine start you have made, you forget your name, you forget her suitcase, you stutter like a schoolboy and you open the wrong door, why not go the whole way, start picking you teeth, or your nose, for the love of god pull yourself together!

  AND SHE: So this must be jet lag, you’re in a strange country for fifteen minutes and already you’re putting out like a hooker! You must have said his name twenty times so far and now you start touching the guy? Oh and while we’re on the subject Kirsty Isobel Alici Macgregor will you for Christ’s sake stop touching your HAIR!

  The road through Athens is almost sub-terranian and Vassilli found himself idiotically pointing out landmarks that could not be seen.

  “The Olympic stadium is here on the left if you lean over and look over my shoulder you can just see the top of the arches.” She couldn’t but took the opportunity to lean over anyway.

  “You say you have never been in Greece before although you are half Greek, why has it taken you so long?”

  “Oh well I suppose I never got round to it, my father was never interested and by the time I was old enough to make my own arrangements I was married and Mike certainly had no interest.”

  “You are married?”

  “Was.”

  That got the subject on to something close to both their hearts, for the next ten minutes they told each other of their bad marital experiences.

  Finally he said, “We both made mistakes, people make mistakes Kirsty, people are allowed”

  She felt a jolt like a small electric shock when he used her name for the first time, she thought he would have forgotten it straight away. They passed through a long tunnel, on the far side the country opened up, the gulf of Salamis, dark blue in the strong, late afternoon sun and in the distance the sweep of the Peloponnese Mountains.

  “So beautiful” she said quietly.

  “Yes,” he replied and tightened his grip on the steering wheel slightly.

  The road disappeared under the Mercedes’ hood and they talked on, he told her about Katsimila, he knew her family name and one of her mother’s nephews was a friend of his. She told him about Windsor and the bookstore she ran, about her brothers and their constant bickering and their fierce protective instincts when it came to their “Baby” sister.

  He approached the next subject with care, “I am sorry to hear of your mother’s death she cannot have been so old.”

  “Seventy four” she said. “She was a great lady, I miss her so much, well I say I miss her, she not that far away, she’s in the trunk.”

  “What!?”

  She laughed, it was a wonderful sound. “I’m sorry Vassilli, I mean I’ve brought some of my mothers ashes with me, her family has olive trees and I am to sprinkle some under one…of course I don’t know WHICH one.”

  He thought for a moment, “Perhaps it had better be one that is sheltered from the wind, otherwise, you know, whoosh, suddenly Mama is all over your dress.”

  She laughed again, “Vassilli you are a bad, wicked man.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder.

  After an hour they were back in Korinthos, to him it seemed like five minutes, as he pulled off the highway and on to the road into the mountains there was a silence long enough for more thoughts.

  HE: Ask her, go on ask her out, what’s the worst that can happen?” Me, go out with a cab driver, are you crazy?” yes that would be pretty bad, but you would get over it, let’s be honest she isn’t going to produce a gun and shoot you! Yes, but if she says no I will want to shoot myself

  AND SHE: If he asks me out, I’ll definitely say yes

  They drove south through the towns and villages along the coast, Kechries, Almyria and Loutra Elenis, then up the steep, winding hills toward Corfos, they told each other about their families in more detail, they talked about the things that mattered to them and their beliefs, they talked about everything but the thing they wanted to talk about the most. Before he knew it Vassilli was pulling the car to a halt outside the Artemis hotel, he unloaded the suitcase and wheeled it up to the front steps, Alex Karamis took it inside, they turned and faced each other, there was time for a final brief thought.

  HE: ASK HER! Sweet mother of god, SAY SOMETHING! This is your last chance, “How about dinner tomorrow night?” there, that wouldn’t be so hard!

  AND SHE: Would it be too much if I said something? Too forward? Rude maybe? Oh Christ what am I thinking?

  “Goodbye, Vassilli, thank you so much, it’s been a great introduction to the country.”

  “You’re very welcome, it has been my pleasure.”

  She walked into the hotel, he got back in the car and drove away, after two hundred metres he stopped and stared out through the screen, with a violence that was quite unlike him he slammed the flat of his hands against the wheel, “Idiot Idiot IDIOT! What is wrong with you? Why don’t you just walk out there into the sea and drown yourself?” he rammed the Mercedes into gear and drove home.

  At the same time Alex and Kirsty arrived outside her room, she tipped him five Euros and went in, she dumped the suitcase on the bed and went over to the dressing table, she looked at herself in the mirror.

  “OK Kirsty that’s it, you are now officially a basket case, when you get back to Windsor they can lock you in a padded room and throw the key into lake St Clair.” She placed her hands flat on top of her head. “Wait a moment” she frowned, then smiled and then laughed out loud. “It can be right! Thanks to my stupidity it can still turn out alright! Oh Kirsty you are such a wonderful klutz.” Though exhausted and mildly dizzy with jet lag she managed to dance around the room for a while.

  Vassilli walked into his living room, he went over to his small desk and opened a drawer, he took out a framed photograph. It was the only he had left of him and Julia on their wedding day, smiling, happy, the best still in front of them, he looked at the picture for a long time, was that it? Was that the reason he could not speak? He had come home and she was gone, did that mean that as far as he was concerned all women would do the same? Make him love them only to destroy him? He put the picture back and sat down heavily in his chair, it was no good, he needed to lie down, he got up and headed for the bedroom, in the doorway he froze, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and opened it, he stared at the contents for a moment and then smiled. She had forgotten to pay him.

  Fotia Se Dassos

  3:17 pm

  For Stephan and Francoise Leoni it had been a wonderful two weeks since their wedding on September 14th; they had flown from Zurich to Athens, hired a jeep and toured the Peloponnese for a week, the second week they had spent swimming and tanning on the beautiful island of Poros. On their last day they had broken their journey back to the airport to picnic in the countryside, the jeep was parked in a copse of pine trees just off the highway. They lay together on a blanket, the remains of their lunch spread around them, Stephan lit a cigarette and propped himself up on one elbow, he looked up at the scudd
ing clouds, it was a shame that the weather had marred their last day he thought, though still very warm it was overcast and windy. But it was not all bad, the wind through the pines made a gentle roar that was somehow soothing.

  Francoise looked at her watch, “Come my slobbish husband, you have made enough mess here, it is time we made a move, check in is at five thirty and we have to return little Milly first.”

  Milly was the pet name she had given the jeep, he found this more than a little creepy but did not tell her so. She began tidying up around him, she produced a plastic bag and carefully placed all of their trash inside it then dumped the bag in the back of the car. He smiled as he watched her, she was a real eco freak, one of the many things he loved about her, after a few moments he decided he really should do something to help, he stood and folded the blanket. She was now standing beside Milly with her hands on her slim hips.

  “Come ON Stephan.”

  He tossed away his cigarette and then performed his favourite trick of vaulting over the closed door, landing neatly behind the steering wheel, he was now inside the car while she was still outside.

  “Well come on then darling we do not have all day!”

  She climbed in and tweaked his ear.

  “OW!”

  “That’s for being cheeky.”

  As they pulled out on to the highway she rested her head on his shoulder, he half turned and kissed her forehead, thus distracted they both failed to register the turning they passed leading off to the right, nor did they notice the small blue and white sign which read, Katsimila 5km. They made it to the airport with time to spare, flew back to Switzerland and by midnight were making love in their own little house in Regensdorf, a short drive from Zurich. At that time it was eleven pm in Greece and Stephan’s carelessly thrown cigarette was threatening every life in a village he had never heard of.

  The wind blew dust against the kitchen window making a brittle, ticking sound; Panniotta Koutalidas stood beside the sink looking over her enormous belly at the puddle spreading slowly between her feet, she found the mobile phone in the pocket of her robe and thumbed in a stored number. The tone from the other end went on and on, Panniotta drummed the fingers of her free hand on the drainer in front of her, finally there was a click and an answering voice.

  “Hello” the voice said adding unnecessarily. “This is Christina Karamis”

  Panniotta cleared her throat, “Hello Christina, it’s Yota, I wonder if you could drop by some time this afternoon, I think my waters have just broken.” Twenty four and as yet childless, Panniotta was seriously impressed by the calm in her own voice.

  Christina Karamis placed the phone back on the bar top and went to collect her things, she was also calm, she had been Katsimila’s midwife for more than thirty five years and had long ago forgotten the exact number of new arrivals she had helped on their way, it was certainly near the two hundred mark, possibly past that. On her way out she met George in the foyer.

  “I have to go my dear, another day, another new life.”

  George nodded. “This will be little Yota’s first won’t it? So you will be gone for the rest of the day I expect.”

  Christina looked around the empty bar, “Yes, but I don’t think I shall be needed around here, do you?”

  He smiled and kissed her cheek, “No I suppose not, but I will have to go out back occasionally to check on young Giannakopoulos”

  Christina was on her way out, calling over her shoulder. “He knows his business, I just wish he wouldn’t make quite so much noise.”

  When she had gone George went out to the rear of the building, the Artemis was about to get more, much needed parking space and construction would begin as soon as the land had been cleared and levelled. Dimitris Giannakopoulos was achieving this with his monstrous yellow JCB digger truck, George waved him to a stop and called up to the cab.

  “How much longer Jimmy?”

  Giannakopoulos shrugged, “An hour or so, go back to your brandy George, the work will be finished today, no worries.”

  George went back inside, as he passed the bottom of the main stairway the beautiful Canadian lady who had checked in the previous evening was making her way down, she was the Hotel’s only guest, living proof that the season was over.

  “Not really a good day for the beach” she said. “I think I’ll take a walk before dinner.”

  George directed her to the prettiest walk he knew, heading south along the coast toward what he had recently come to know as “Turtle beach”, she thanked him and left.

  Christo Alexiou was in his olive grove re-arranging the irrigation pipes that wound around the trees nearest his small house when Dimitris Lambakis arrived in his black 4x4, Christo waved to him and they met at the wall that separated the two groves.

  “Good afternoon, Dimitri. I should have put these pipes to one side by now, if it doesn’t rain soon my water bills will outstrip my profits.”

  “Yes it could be a bad year, I don’t know about you but I cannot remember such a dry finish to the summer.” They were having to raise their voices to combat the wind.

  4:29 pm

  The bush was on fire, as the cigarette stub burned it had fallen on to a large sheet of newspaper which had been there for over a month, it was tinder dry and the strong breeze did the rest; it also whipped away the smoke making the fire almost invisible to passers by on the highway. Now, after an hour, the blaze was gaining strength, soon it reached the lower branches of the nearest pine tree, within ten minutes the whole copse was alight.

  Vassillis Arvantis was returning from Korinthos where he had deposited an English couple at the train station, as he approached home excitement was rising within him, this evening he would go to the hotel for his money and he would ask Kirsty to dinner, this time there would be no mistake, no hesitation. He decided to take the north road into the village, it was slower and more torturous but he always enjoyed the views and he had no other work to occupy him before the evening. His casual change in route made him the first person to see the fire. He had travelled less than half a kilometre south from the highway when he saw the smoke off to his right; he stopped the car. It now covered an area of two thousand square metres, he could see that it was moving south rapidly, driven by the wind, everything in its path was dry; everything in its path would burn. Vassillis reached in through the window and snatched up his phone from the dash, he called Christos Mariopoulos. The firefighter answered at the second ring, Vassillis gave him brief details and then the phone went dead, Mariopoulos was on his way. Vassillis got back into the Mercedes and drove quickly down into Katsimila, he didn’t know how bad the fire was going to be but one thought was uppermost in his mind, he had to find her.

  Mariopoulos arrived at the scene ten minutes later, he had called his two part time assistants on the way and they were only three minutes behind him, it didn’t take them long to realise the seriousness of the situation, in its current direction of spread and its rate the fire would eventually block both the roads that served the village making escape impossible, if the wind continued from the north the village itself was in no immediate danger, but Mariopoulos and his crew knew that winds could change direction in moments. Costas instructed the others to start at the front of the blaze and try to slow its progress, then he started to make calls for help.

  Vassillis arrived back in town at the same moment as Dimitris Lambakis, he told him what he had seen.

  “I suppose we should tell the Mayor.”

  Lambakis laughed “As usual luck is on Alex’s side, he is in Athens until Wednesday, so Vassilli it is down to us, we must go around and tell everybody, advise them to leave. It will be wise not to take chances, this fire could not be in a worse place.” They went in opposite directions telling everyone they saw, some did not take them seriously but most made provisions to get out as fast as they could, however it was ten minutes after six before the first cars left. By the time Vassillis reached the Artemis, the job of informing the residents of Katsimil
a of the approaching danger was no longer needed, the fire could clearly be seen all over town. He found George in the bar, the old man held up his hands.

  “Alright Vassilli I have seen it, I take it everyone is being advised to evacuate!” Vassilli nodded, “Very good, tell them not to rush, we don’t need the roads blocked with accidents.”

  “George, where is the Canadian lady I brought in yesterday?”

  “She went for a walk, don’t worry I will make sure someone takes her out.”

  “I was hoping to do that myself, George, but I think it may have to wait.”

  Giannakopoulos was almost home when he met Dimitris Stamos driving the big breakdown truck in the opposite direction. Stamos told him about the fire, Giannakopoulos looked up, the smoke was trailing over the village and out to sea, he slapped the JCB back into gear and headed for the scrub at the back of town. Stamos went home and packed his wife and children into the family car, he told her to drive up to Ligourio, a safe distance away, then he got back up into the truck, he was quite certain there would be work for them both before the night was out.

  Sofia Hadjadakis was walking briskly toward the end of her street, she was hoping to meet up with Anna Cristidis so they could leave together in Anna’s old Yugo car. As she reached the corner she heard a harsh guttural cry from above, she knew it was coming from the Koutalidas house, she also knew that Yota was heavily pregnant. She went quickly through the door and up the short flight of steps, in the bedroom she found Yota and Christina.

  “Hello Sofia, as you can see Yota and I are quite busy at the moment, but we are doing just fine, aren’t we my dear?”

  Yota smiled weakly, then grimaced. Sofia took Christina aside and told her about the emergency.

  “We must leave Christina, we must all go now!”

  Christina went to the sink and washed her hands with slow rhythmic movements. “You go Sofia, Yota cannot be moved, she is almost fully dilated and the baby could be here very soon.”