The Siege

by Marilyn Baron

  “Don’t close your mouth, Theia.”

  “There’s an ugly space between my teeth. I was born with it. Now that I know my grandfather had that same space, I am starting to get used to it.”

  “That space drives me insane. I love that space. Open up and let me look at you.”

  “Like a dentist or a horse trader?” Theia wrinkled her nose.

  “I would prefer like a lover. I adore every part of your body. You are perfection.”

  “I hardly have any breasts. I’m too thin. Wait until you see.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “The view is breathtaking,” said Theia, suddenly sitting up and studying the particular blue of the sea and the stark white sand and the cliffs. “I can’t wait to sketch it. I wonder if my grandfather sat in this exact same place with my ya-ya, and now I am seeing what he saw, feeling what he felt.”

  “The view is breathtaking, I agree,” said Wade, his eyes focused solely on Theia. “Sketching is not what I had in mind. What are you feeling, Theia? Can you tell me?”

  Theia turned toward Wade and pushed the hat back over her face.

  “Don’t be shy.”

  Theia shrugged.

  “And don’t be dismissive. I’m serious, Theia.”

  She pulled the hat from her face but didn’t answer his question except to say, “I’m hungry.”

  “So am I, but not for food.” Wade looked searchingly into Theia’s wide eyes. He let out a breath. “You look frightened. You’re not ready. All right, we will take this slowly. I could eat something. I had the hotel pack us a nice picnic lunch. I specifically asked for baklava. You said you liked sweets, so dessert first.” He rooted around in the basket and came up with a sticky piece of baklava, which he unwrapped and fed her with his fingers. His hands were shaking.

  “Sweet,” she said, licking her lips to wipe off the taste of honey.

  “Here, let me,” Wade offered.

  She detected a fierce hunger in his eyes. He would not wait much longer before he pounced.

  He dipped his head, as the sun beat down on them, and licked the sweet, papery-thin crumbs off her mouth and then pressed his lips to hers, warmth to warmth.

  Her whole body was on fire. Now that he’d sampled her lips, she wanted more. She looked around. They were the only ones on the beach, as promised.

  “We’re completely and utterly alone here,” Wade said, reading her thoughts. “The concierge said this beach was secluded, nudism friendly, even.”

  “N-nudism friendly?”

  “Yes,” said Wade, removing his sunglasses and throwing them carelessly on the towel. “There’s not much time,” he grunted.

  “Time for what?”

  “To make you fall in love with me.”

  Theia inched away from Wade.

  “Where are you going?” asked Wade, gently picking up Theia’s bare foot to examine it, rubbing it and kissing her toes. “How’s your ankle?”

  She shivered at his touch, although the air, as well as the sand and the sun, was warm.

  “Much better.”

  “It’s healing nicely. But you’re not listening to my advice about wearing flats.” He inclined his face toward the utterly sexy, utterly unsensible, gold, strappy, heeled sandals she’d brought to the beach.

  “I thought we were going to explore Balos,” Theia said, in an effort to change the subject.

  “Too crowded for what I had in mind.”

  “And what did you have in mind?” Theia asked tentatively, rubbing her middle finger across her mouth to hide her teeth. “A little Wade in the water?”

  “Cute, but no. What I had in mind to do to you the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  “And what is that?” she whispered, her eyes fluttering dangerously.

  “You’re flirting with me, you little devil,” he said.

  Theia smiled. Her body shook in anticipation, and she inched closer to Wade.

  “Theia.” He sighed, and she nestled into him, signaling her acceptance. “Do you want me as much as I want you?”

  Theia’s heart beat madly. Her breath came in short hitches. She reached out tentatively to touch Wade’s hairy chest, rubbing his warm skin in a circular motion.

  He unfastened her bathing suit top and freed her breasts. Her nipples hardened.

  She wanted him to love her, but she could tell he needed a sign that she was ready.

  Theia sighed and pushed his head down toward her breasts.

  “Don’t stop, please,” she pleaded.

  “I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’m on fire—or else it’s the sun.”

  “Then I am on fire, too.”

  Wade kissed her, and he couldn’t stop kissing her. It was a miracle. They came together in a passionate embrace. Then he traced his fingers down her body and inside her bathing suit bottom. She arched her back.

  “You’re so soft.”

  Her body thrashed.

  He kissed her again, for a long time, until she lost control.

  “Come here, sweetheart.” He slid her body under his and traced kisses all along and down her stomach, increasing the pressure and rhythm of his fingers.

  Her lips were swollen, and she opened her legs, indicating she was ready for him.

  He moved inside her with swift strokes. Then he wrapped his hands around her bottom and hammered into her. “You’re so tight.”

  “T-this is my f-first time,” Theia stuttered. She reached out to touch him between her legs to indicate her pleasure.

  “Theia?” he shouted hoarsely. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “I might have to kill you if you do.”

  He relaxed and continued thrusting in and out, firm but gentle.

  Theia climaxed.

  “Oh, God,” yelled Wade, and they went over the edge together. For a long time neither of them spoke.

  “Wow,” breathed Theia. “Just wow.”

  Wade sat up and looked at Theia. “You liked it?”

  “It was nice.”

  “Nice, like tea time is nice?”

  “Well, yes, soothing and relaxing. Theia time.”

  “I suppose next time I want to make love to you, I can say, “Would you like some tea?”

  When she lay in his arms afterwards, she smiled and said, “Why do men in the movies always say, ‘Oh, God,’ after they make love?”

  Wade laughed. “We say it in real life, too. Maybe because we’re so close to heaven. This place is paradise, and so are you.” He wrapped his arms around Theia and whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me this was your first time? You really haven’t slept with anyone before?”

  “I was waiting for the right one.”

  “Am I the right one?”

  “No, you’re completely wrong.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “The man I am going to marry will be Greek, and Jewish.”

  “Well, sometimes we don’t get what we want, but we get what we need.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Just so you know,” Wade stated, “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Theia sat up and fastened her bathing suit top. She wasn’t ready for this conversation.

  “Suddenly, I’m starving. What else do you have in that basket?”

  “Sandwiches, wine, a Greek salad, of course, and some more baklava for my insatiable goddess.”

  “I’m not insatiable,” Theia protested.

  “Then you put on a pretty good act. Let’s go swimming, and then we’ll eat.”

  “That’s a great idea. This beach is amazing. I can’t wait to get into the water.”

  “And I can’t wait to get you into the water,” Wade teased.

  “Why is that?”

  “If I keep you in the ocean, fighting the waves, then baking out in the sun all day, your body all warm and drowsy, you’ll be too exhausted to put up a fight when I want to make love to you again in our air-conditioned hotel room on crisp, clean, white sheets.”

  Theia laughed. “You plann
ed this all out.”

  “Is my plan beginning to work?”

  “I think so.” Theia felt relaxed and satiated. She was definitely loosening up.

  Wade grabbed Theia’s hand, and they ran down the sandy beach and splashed into the water, laughing like children.

  Drying off on the shore after their swim, they shared a delicious lunch. Theia was so full she didn’t think she could move an inch.

  “The driver will be back soon, so we’d better start packing up,” said Wade. “Tomorrow we’ll take the ferry to Balos Beach. Then I’ll have to share you publicly.”

  “Not just yet. Let’s play, ‘If I were to die tomorrow,’ ” suggested Theia when they were both cocooned in their towels.

  “How does that morbid little game work?”

  “If I were to die tomorrow, I’d like to see one of my grandfather’s paintings first.”

  Wade paused. “And if I were to die tomorrow, I would like to know what it feels like to make love to Theia again?”

  “Yes, like that.” Theia nodded.

  “Like this?” Wade covered Theia’s body and placed a soft kiss on her warm lips.

  “Mmmm,” she murmured, responding to his kiss. “Exactly like this.”

  “I like this game,” Wade said.

  Theia sat up and disentangled her body from Wade’s. “But it’s just a game. It’s not reality. I am anxious to get to New York to inquire about my grandfather’s paintings. I’m afraid I have to cut our trip short.”

  “Theia,” Wade protested. “You’re not even giving us a chance. You’re running hot and cold. One minute you’re in my arms, making love to me. The next, you want to hop away like a frightened rabbit. What are you afraid of?”

  Theia lowered her eyes. “Of losing control.”

  “You’re a strong woman. The odds of that happening are slim.”

  “I don’t know,” Theia said. “I think it’s already happening.”

  Wade lifted Theia’s chin and stared into her soul. “I need more time, Theia.”

  “I can’t give that to you. I think our time together is done.”

  Chapter Eight

  In the end, Wade convinced Theia to give him one more day.

  “I’m desperate to see the Palace at Knossos,” Wade said the next morning. “The site of the Minotaur legend.”

  “You’re desperate?”

  As a matter of fact, he was. Desperate to spend more time with Theia. He didn’t care what they did or where they went as long as he could be with her. One more day to convince her they should be together permanently.

  “I’m appealing to your Greek side.”

  “My Greek side is the only side I have.”

  “How can we leave Crete without seeing the ancient Palace at Knossos?” Wade reasoned. He handed Theia a pamphlet.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “The hotel office. There’s a five-hour tour where we can discover the delights of the ancient Palace of Knossos. Listen to this.” He grabbed the pamphlet back and began reading, his voice rising an octave.

  “ ‘Follow in the footsteps of long-ago Minoan kings on this five-hour Knossos Crete tour. Travel by air-conditioned coach to the archaeological site of the Minoan Palace of Knossos, and tour the remains dating to the second century BC. Explore what were the royal quarters, storerooms, and Central Court of the palace, the power base of Europe’s first civilization; and hear about the mythical Minotaur that roamed a labyrinth here as your guide explains the site’s history. Finish with free time for lunch and a coach tour of Crete’s capital, Heraklion.’

  “There’s an expert guide,” Wade added, in an attempt to strengthen his case. “It says we can learn about Greek mythology and Minoan culture while walking through the Central Court, and discover sites like the Throne Room and Grand Staircase on the palace tour.

  “ ‘We begin our experience with a pickup from our Crete hotel,’ ” read Wade, sounding like some game show host announcing the prizes hiding behind Door Number One. “ ‘Hop inside your coach and enjoy the scenic ride to Knossos, the world-famous site of a Minoan Palace that was later abandoned. On arrival, hop out of your coach and pay the entrance fee to the archaeological site.’ ”

  “Pay the entrance fee?” Theia scowled. “That’s not included in the price of the tour? That doesn’t seem right.”

  “I will pay our entrance fee.” Wade continued his reading. “ ‘Then, head inside to explore the buildings and ruins, many of them partially reconstructed by British archaeologist Sir Arthur Evans in the early 1900s. Follow your guide around the excavations and learn how the palace served as the ceremonial and administrative hub of Crete’s Minoan culture, considered to be Europe’s oldest civilization. Inspect the once-lavish royal quarters, treasuries, and storerooms, and admire the restored frescoes that depict long-ago scenes of Minoan life. See the Central Court, Grand Staircase, and Throne Room, and as you stroll, hear about the mysterious Greek legends associated with the palace, including the strange myth of the Minotaur—the half-man, half-bull said to have been imprisoned by King Minos within a labyrinth at the palace. After your tour, return to your coach and continue into Heraklion for a panoramic sightseeing tour and free time for lunch (own expense).’ ”

  “Own expense? What kind of a cut-rate tour is this?”

  “At my expense,” Wade corrected. “This day is all on me. But listen, there’s more. ‘Pass top Heraklion attractions such as Koules Venetian Fortress, Lions Square, and the Church of St. Titos as your guide recounts historical anecdotes about the city and its time under Venetian rule between the thirteenth and seventeenth centuries. With your sightseeing over, your tour ends with a hotel drop-off.’ And, oh, I almost forgot. The man at the front desk said it included a tour of a winery/olive oil store and time in Heraklion to walk around, eat lunch—at my expense, of course, as previously stated—and go to the Archaeological Museum. How does that sound?”

  Theia shook her head. “Wade, I’m supposed to be at the airport this afternoon.”

  “Well, you’ll just have to change your flight, because I already bought our tickets.”

  “You what?”

  “I thought, What self-respecting Greek could visit Crete and not see the Palace at Knossos?”

  “Wade.” Theia placed her hands on her hips in an intractable stance. “You’re not playing fair. Do you mean to tell me you’d rather traipse around in the hot sun all day?”

  “No. I’d rather spend the day in bed making love to you in our air-conditioned hotel room,” Wade said. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “So you’ll do it?”

  “Did you really buy the tickets already?”

  Wade pulled an envelope out of his pocket and produced them.

  “One more day,” Theia agreed. “But that’s it.”

  Wade picked her up and twirled her around.

  “You won’t be sorry.”

  “I already am.” Theia laughed.

  “You admit you want to see this place.”

  “I do, but I also want to spend one more day with you.”

  Wade beamed and kissed Theia on the lips. She tasted like mint toothpaste. He would forever associate the taste of mint with Theia.

  “Okay, then let’s get ready, because it’s almost pick-up time. We’d better eat something before we go. I’m sure breakfast is not included in this ‘cut-rate tour,’ as you call it. I just hope the bus doesn’t break down.”

  ****

  The bus did break down, and they had to be picked up by another bus, an hour later. When they finally got to the Palace, hot, sticky, tired, and thirsty, Wade frowned.

  “It certainly is ancient. It’s just a bunch of rubble.”

  “Wade Bingham, use your imagination,” Theia chided, enthralled. “Think what it must have been like. There, you can actually see the Minotaur up there on that wall. You see his horns?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Stop sulkin
g. Try to enjoy yourself. I love this. I’m going to sketch it when we get back to the hotel.”

  “How can I enjoy myself when I know this is the last day we’re going to be together? We may never see each other again.”

  “Who knows what fate has in store for us? If we’re meant to see each other again, then it will happen.” Theia took Wade’s hand. “Let’s just enjoy this day together.”

  Chapter Nine

  Theia felt the urge to paint something powerful and important to commemorate the sinking of the Tanais, something on the size and scale of Picasso’s Guernica, an enormous mural-sized oil painting on canvas that measured about eleven feet tall and twenty-five feet wide, painted for the 1937 World’s Fair in Paris.

  She rejected Picasso’s stark monochrome palette of black, white and gray, a matte house paint with the least possible gloss, rendered with the immediacy of a black-and-white photograph to depict the horror, misery, and devastation of the carpet bombing that destroyed Guernica. A German guidebook had called Picasso’s mural, featuring a gored horse, a bull, a dismembered soldier, a grieving woman, and smoke and flames, a “hodgepodge of body parts. A nightmarish scene of chaos.”

  Picasso didn’t witness Guernica firsthand. He never set foot in the country while painting it. In fact, after he painted the masterpiece, he never returned to Spain. He didn’t go to work on the piece until May 1, 1937, three weeks before the exhibit was scheduled to open, and he finished it in just over a month, on June 4, 1937, after only thirty-five days of work. Theia would need more time than that.

  Like Picasso, Theia hadn’t experienced the horror of the sinking of the Tanais firsthand. No matter, the destruction was etched in her brain and trapped in her dreams. The pain and the loss were palpable.

  At night, Theia was haunted by the thought that her grandfather and the other Jews from his birthplace had perished at sea. What had her grandfather’s final moments looked like? If she were to paint them, they would be dark, black, devoid of light and hope. She imagined how frightened the passengers must have been, trapped in the ship’s hold, body stashed against body, no room to breathe, before they were bombarded and drowned in a mass grave. Gasping for breath, their lives choked off, flailing in the ocean, surrounded by the inky, murky darkness of the sea. Children blown from their mothers’ arms. Lovers and newlyweds torn apart. Or maybe they had perished instantly, with no time to say their goodbyes. Maybe they didn’t even know their fate. But Theo knew what was in store for the group at the end of the journey. Death. He had seen it in France. Did he warn them? Did he have some plan in mind to save them? Either way was too horrifying to contemplate. She imagined her grandfather’s last thought had been with Eleni and their child. A child he’d never live to see. Were his final thoughts regret that he didn’t accompany her to America? She would never know.