by C. Gockel
She nodded, waiting, as the bird hovered over the deck.
“One, two, three!” Hector cried, and the bird released them.
Their hands fell apart as they landed on the deck. Her hip and shoulder hit hard against the boat. She forgot to roll. She hadn’t thought it mattered, but now she was in pain.
Hector looked down at her, where she lay sprawled on the back of the boat. “Are you okay?”
Gertie closed her eyes. Everything hurt. This must be where the hangover would begin.
She blinked to find herself in Hector’s arms as he maneuvered down the steps below deck and through the narrow hallway to their cabin. Except for the heat from his body, she was colder now than she’d been in the sea, and she shivered uncontrollably. Hector opened the door of their cabin and laid her down on his bottom bunk. He helped her from her wet clothes and wrapped her tightly in the blankets. She was so sleepy, tired, and dazed, that she went through the motions, only partially aware.
Then he climbed out of his own wet clothes, slipped on dry ones, and crawled in beside her. He held her in his arms, and whispered, “Try to get some sleep. I’ll explain everything tomorrow.”
Her body rejoiced at the warmth and coziness enfolding it, so she did as Hector said and closed her eyes. Behind her lids, she saw the big, beautiful, white crane flying across the dark night.
7
The Island of Crete
“Gertie?” someone murmured near Gertie’s ear.
She blinked, opened her eyes, and looked up. This was not the same place she had gone to sleep the night before. She felt beneath her pillow for her e-reader and phone, and came up empty. Her arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders only to find no clothes between them and the rest of her.
“Where are my clothes?”
Clinging to the covers, which surrounded her like a burrito, she turned in the bed to see Hector lying beside her. Her hip, shoulder, and head hurt, but the sight of him beside her made adrenaline surge through her body, numbing it. What she had taken for a hallucination last night must have been, in part, real. Obviously a giant bird hadn’t swooped down and lifted her and Hector from the sea, but maybe they had made out. He had removed her clothes. Had he also drugged her?
“They’re still wet,” he said.
“Why are they wet?” she demanded. “And what did you do?”
She moved as far away from him in the bed as possible, clutching the covers around her otherwise naked body.
“Will you both be quiet?” Nikita said from her top bunk. “It’s not time to get up yet.”
“Don’t you remember?” Hector whispered.
“Did you drug me?” She made no attempt to keep her voice down. Anger flared through her.
His jaw dropped open and he flinched.
Klaus lifted his sleepy head from his pillow, just two feet away. “What’s going on over there?”
“Hector?” Gertie said. “Can you explain?”
His mouth hung open for a few more seconds before he said, “I thought we had a beautiful night together, but I guess I was wrong.”
He climbed from the bed and went to the closet to use the toilet.
Klaus stared at Gertie. “What happened?”
She shrugged as heat flooded to her face. “I honestly don’t know.”
“You don’t make sense,” Klaus said, falling back on his pillow.
“I think he drugged me,” she whispered.
Klaus laughed. “Hector would never do such a thing.”
“Could you hand me my bag? It’s on the foot of my bed.”
Klaus reluctantly crawled from his bunk just as Hector was returning from the toilet. The cabin grew silent as the two boys stood beside one another between the beds. Gertie thought they were exchanging looks, maybe even whispers, but she couldn’t see their faces to know for sure. Klaus handed over her bag as Hector climbed into a pair of jeans. Babá knocked on the door and told everyone to wake up.
“We go first to Lion Square for Bhougatsa and coffee,” Babá said through the door.
Gertie spent the day ignoring Hector as best as she could without being too noticeable to the rest of the family. She didn’t want to ruin everyone else’s fun after all the trouble they had gone to, and she certainly didn’t want Nikita to know what may or may not have happened.
Only one thing was perfectly clear to Gertie: she had awakened in Hector’s bed without a stitch of clothes on her body.
The city of Heraklion was not what she had expected, and not what she had hoped to see. Except for the fountains, it looked just like any other modern city with its congested streets and busy sidewalks. Babá took them from one restaurant to another, bragging about the food, how it was the best and the freshest in the world. He also bought several bottles of local olive oil, honey, and some spices he said you couldn’t get anywhere else.
Mamá wanted them to see some of the museums, which were even more boring than the restaurants. It wasn’t until they took a cab to the palace ruins of Knossos that Gertie perked up.
She already knew the stories of King Minos and the Minotaur, of Daedalus and the labyrinth. She also knew the story of Icarus, who flew too close to the sun, melting the wax holding together the wings built for him by his father before falling into the sea to his death.
It was amazing to stand among the ruins of all those old stories and imagine the characters and their lives. The legends had to be based on some truth, after all.
Hector seemed to notice her change of mood, and when she was standing alone, gazing at a painting of a bull, he came up behind her and said, “Pretty incredible, huh?”
She nodded without looking at him, the awkward feelings returning with his presence.
“Knossos is the oldest city of Europe,” he said. “We’re standing on the foundation of modern civilization.”
She wished she could forget about what had happened, so she could turn and smile and say how surreal it all was, but she couldn’t trust him anymore. She felt betrayed.
“I have a family connection to this place,” Hector continued. “My family shares the same bloodline with Daedalus, the person credited for designing…”
“I know who Daedalus was,” she interrupted.
“Look,” he began. “I don’t understand why you’re angry with me, or why you would think I would drug you.”
She struggled with whether she should admit everything she had imagined to the person who may have caused it. “I had a strange vision last night. Like a hallucination. I must have ingested something. I thought maybe you…”
His face paled. Then the muscles in his jaws flexed, like he was holding something back. “No. I didn’t.”
Before she had a chance to ask how she had ended up in his bed, he walked away without another word.
Later, while she was following the maze of the ruins and imagining the Minotaur and Ariadne and Theseus, and also the seven boys and girls sent from Athens every year to be eaten by the Minotaur, Nikita came up behind her.
“Hey, Gertie. Are you doing okay?”
She waited for Nikita to catch up to her. “I’m fine.”
They traced the maze of the ruins together in silence until Nikita asked, “Are we overwhelming you with all this sightseeing? You must be tired.”
“I’m fine,” she said again.
“You seem quieter today.”
“I had strange dreams last night and couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh.”
They walked along in silence again, and then, almost as though she couldn’t help herself, Nikita asked, “What kind of strange dreams? Of vampires?”
Gertie decided to tell her what she’d imagined—except for the parts about making out with Hector and waking up in his bed. She had expected Nikita to laugh and agree with how bizarre it sounded, but, instead, Nikita’s mouth hung open like a Labrador retriever’s.
“Did you say a giant crane?” Nikita asked.
“Pretty weird, right?” Gertie kept walking along the path, about to ov
ertake another group of tourists.
Nikita stopped and grabbed Gertie’s arm. “Wait.”
Gertie searched Nikita’s face. “What?”
Nikita waited for a few other tourists to pass them by, and then she said, “Never mind. You’re right. That was a bizarre dream.”
Gertie was suspicious now that Nikita wasn’t being upfront with her. She glanced warily at her new friend wondering just how much she could trust her. A sick feeling in her stomach made her wish she was back home, where at least she knew what to expect from day to day.
Before they caught up with the others in their group, Gertie asked, “Why is Hector embarrassed to talk about the day he was born?”
“I’m not embarrassed,” he said from behind her.
She nearly jumped out of her shoes. She had no idea he had been there.
Turning to look at him, she said, “I thought you said you were.”
“No, Nikita did,” he clarified. “She was just saying that to make things easier. I don’t like to tell my story to just anyone, and not because it’s embarrassing. In fact, it’s the opposite of embarrassing. But it’s a secret. And I only share it with people I trust.”
He brushed past them and caught up with Klaus and the rest of the Angelis family.
Gertie glanced at Nikita, whose face had turned pink.
“What did you say to Hector to make him so angry?” Nikita whispered.
Tears stung Gertie’s eyes. “I just want to go home.”
8
Lost in the City
The ferry ride home was miserable for Gertie. Everyone went straight to bed, worn out from the sightseeing, but Gertie couldn’t fall asleep. To make matters worse, both her phone and her e-reader were dead, and there was no place in the cabin to charge them.
So she lay there thinking of all the things she could say to her parents to get them to let her come home.
By the time they reached the apartment, Gertie could no longer keep her eyes open, so she went to her bed to sleep. It didn’t seem like much time had passed when she felt someone nudge her awake.
“Gertoula.” Mamá sat on the edge of the bed and patted Gertie’s leg. “Did we wear you out, koreetsi mou?”
Gertie sat up and leaned against the metal head board. “I’m okay. I just couldn’t sleep on the ferry.”
Mamá caressed Gertie’s hair in a way Gertie’s own mother never had. “You are such a pretty girl. I hope you are happy with us. You seemed sad yesterday in Crete.”
“I’m a little homesick,” Gertie said, which wasn’t exactly a lie.
Mamá threw her arms around Gertie. “I am sorry, koreetsi mou. Have you spoken to your parents today?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Maybe you should call them.” She pulled back from the hug and cupped Gertie’s cheeks. “Maybe hearing your mother’s voice will cheer you up, yes?”
Gertie doubted that, but she nodded. “I could also use some fresh air.” She really just wanted to be alone with her thoughts. “May I go for a walk?”
“Of course you may. Nikita and Klaus would love to show you around after you eat.”
“I meant alone, so I can think.”
Mamá frowned. “I understand. Yes, of course. But you won’t go far? And you won’t get lost?”
Gertie brought out her phone. “I have Google Maps.”
“Google what?” Mamá looked perplexed.
“My phone will show me the way home.” She had plugged it in as soon as they had returned from Crete, and it was fully charged.
“Okay, koreetsi mou, but you must promise to return home before dark. I love my city, and am very proud of its history, but I would wish for no one to walk the streets alone at night.”
Gertie nodded. “I promise.”
“Eat something first, yes?”
Gertie followed Mamá into the kitchen where the rest of the Angelis family were already sitting around the table, crammed close together. Mamá insisted that Gertie take her chair.
“I like to stand,” Mamá said, holding her plate up to her chin.
Although the spices were different from what Gertie was used to, the pork, rice, and vegetables were delicious. She dipped the flat bread into the olive oil and wiped her plate clean. This made Mamá and Babá very happy.
When they had finished eating, Mamá announced, “Nikita and Klaus will help me with the dishes. Gertie wants to go for a walk alone. She’s not used to such a big family. Am I right, Gertoula?”
Gertie nodded with a smile.
“I don’t blame you,” Klaus said. “I try to get away as often as possible, too.”
Mamá slapped Klaus with her dish towel and everyone laughed. Gertie could tell Klaus hadn’t meant what he had said.
“Be back before dark,” Mamá said again. “In thirty minutes, please.”
“And avoid Omonoia Square,” Babá added.
“That’s where the tramps like to hang out,” Nikita explained.
“Just stay on this side of Kapodistriou,” Klaus called from the kitchen sink.
She knew the direction of the square, because they had passed it on the way to the Parthenon. It didn’t seem at all like the kind of place where tramps would hang out after dark. Tall skyscrapers, bustling streets, and a lovely pedestrian walkway at its center seemed way too open to the public for tramps wanting to take advantage of tourists.
And the square hadn’t actually been a square. It was a semicircle. As they had driven past, Hector had said something about the “Omonoia Hexagon.” And when Gertie had said it was not a hexagon, he had said he’d show her what he meant someday.
She supposed that day would never come since they were no longer speaking to one another.
In spite of everything, Gertie was glad to be out of the apartment and on her own as she followed the sidewalk along the busy street. It wasn’t as hot as it had been in the morning, and there was a nice breeze. As she passed people on the sidewalk, most of them smiled at her. A few even said, “Yasou,” which she knew meant, “Hello.” She wasn’t used to this. People didn’t do that on the streets of New York City.
When she reached one of the main roads, she turned left, in the opposite direction of the square—or whatever shape people called it.
Although it wasn’t cool out, she wished she had her gray puffer coat, because whenever she wore it, she felt like her grandma was with her. It had been the last gift her grandmother had given her before she had passed away.
She prayed to her grandma in silence as she walked the streets, fighting the tears wanting to flow from her eyes. Mamá had said to call her mother, but Gertie was still upset with her parents for making her come to Greece. She spoke to her grandma instead.
It wasn’t long before her mind wandered to Hector and what she had imagined with him in the sea. It had been an amazing dream—the best of her life. Why couldn’t Hector be honest with her about what had really happened? All of them—even Nikita—were keeping secrets from her, and (unless by some miracle her parents allowed her to go home) she was determined to uncover them.
When she reached a corner and prepared to cross the street, she was shocked to see Omonoia Square in front of her. She stopped and looked up at the tall buildings, turning around in all directions. Hadn’t she gone the opposite way? Now she was totally confused. She pulled her phone from her pocket and clicked on Google Maps. An error message popped up in the screen.
“Oh, no!” she muttered beneath her breath.
She tried to open Google Maps again, but received the same error message.
Well, at least she could retrace her steps. She turned around and headed in the same direction she had come. After two blocks, though, nothing looked familiar. She pivoted and went back the other way.
When she reached Omonoia Square again, she took out her phone and called Nikita. The call went straight to voice mail.
She texted: “Help. I’m lost. At Omonoia Square.”
She walked up and down the pedestrian path
as she waited for Nikita to answer her text. Meanwhile, dusk had fallen.
Just great.
The square was still bustling with people. In fact, more of them emerged from the underground subway and strolled along the sidewalks and streets, where fewer cars drove by. Gertie thought she could see the acropolis in the fading light. If so, she really had been turned around.
She headed in the opposite direction of the acropolis in what she thought must be the way back to Nikita’s apartment, when a woman stepped in her way and asked, “Are you lost?”
The woman’s blonde hair fell to her shoulders. She smelled bad and wore very outdated clothing, but her face was young and beautiful.
“No, ma’am,” Gertie said.
“I was watching you,” the woman said. “I believe you are lost. May I help you find your way? Elate mazi moy.”
Another beautiful woman, taller and thinner than the first with short black hair and darker skin, came up beside them. “Na sas bohthhsw?”
Gertie shook her head. “I don’t speak Greek.”
A third woman came from around the corner. She wore a long scarf over her head. She was also beautiful, but not as young as the other two. “Let me help her. It’s my turn to help.”
A group of men shouted from the center of the square.
“Ela thou!” they hollered. “Trexa!”
“Prosexe!” said another.
She peered over the shoulders of the women surrounding her to see a group—some standing, some sitting—on the pavement in the center of the pedestrian path of the square.
“Here!” one voice rang out in English. “Over here!”
They looked like a group of homeless people, so why were they calling out to her? Was she so obviously rich?
“Don’t listen to them,” one of the women said. “Come with us, darling girl.”
“We’ll share,” the tallest one said.
“Look into my eyes,” said the one with the scarf.
Her phone buzzed. With a shaky hand, she pulled it from her pocket. The text from Nikita read, “Get to the center of the square NOW!!!”