The Lace Tablecloth

by Anastasia Gessa-Liveriadis

  ‘He was sneaking away without telling you? That’s not possible!’ Tasia exclaimed in amazement. ‘And then? You didn’t run after him I hope.’

  ‘I can’t explain why but I got out in the pelting rain and ran in the direction he had shown me. I lost my shoes in the thick mud but I kept on running.’

  ‘And? Did you catch up with them?’ Tasia pressed on.

  ‘Yes. I spotted a car coming up the road and when it got closer, I jumped in the middle of the road and forced it to stop.’

  ‘Was it the right car?’ Tasia seemed excited.

  ‘Yes. I saw him sitting in the passenger seat. A pretty young woman was driving. She opened up the window and her strong smell of perfume hit me. In a commanding voice she ordered me to step aside. But I pushed my head through the window and looked straight at Nick. He sat there, besides her, mute, avoiding my eyes. “I didn’t want to upset you, that’s why I was leaving that way” he eventually said. “But the way things turned out, I can now say good-bye in person.’”

  Tasia could no longer control her impatience.

  ‘What did you do? Did you spit at him in the face? Did you call him names?’

  ‘I was about ready to tell him a thing or two when the woman took over. “Look,” she said. “No one can blame you for wanting to marry a doctor. But it would be a shame for a professional person like Nick to spend the rest of his life in this miserable place. Nick is destined for a brilliant career and only I can help him achieve it. He had to get engaged to make me see I was about to lose him. Now, move to the side, and let us be on our way!” I kept on hanging onto the window, looking with disgust at that mute and servile little man, thinking how stupid I was to believe his lies. I don’t know what happened next. Maybe she pushed me and I fell, or maybe I fainted.’

  ‘And they left you out there in the rain and took off?’

  Tasia couldn’t believe it.

  ‘I don’t know. When I came around I was lying on a couch in a doctor’s room. I hadn’t met that doctor before and I was surprised to hear him say I ought to see a heart specialist.’

  ‘And did you?’ asked Tasia.

  ‘What for? I know there is nothing wrong with my heart. I had to pass a rigorous medical examination before I was accepted into midwifery. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m fine.’

  They remained lying there for a while, silent, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Every person has his secrets. Tasia felt as though she had just discovered something new. In her timidity she avoided getting close to anybody and looked at people only in terms of being good or bad, educated or uneducated, refined or crude, foreigners or Greeks. She viewed girls the same way. But in addition she looked at girls as being pure and untouched, like her, or they were lowly, fallen, immoral and rotten like a rotten apple: perhaps, the cause of all human misery and depravity. Without Eve, man would still be living in Paradise, and wouldn’t have to be indebted forever for the ancestral sin. And despite Olga’s refined and noble appearance, she had been an engaged and separated woman, a spoiled woman. Fortunately, nobody in the village knew about Olga’s disreputable past which otherwise might have tarnished her own. However, she felt flattered by Olga’s trust in divulging her secret.

  Silently, they walked fast in the stillness of the night. A full moon made visible the path they had to follow. Tasia felt the existence of an invisible wall between the two of them, leaving her confused and lonely. The sorrowful cry of a lonely nightjar further increased the melancholy of the night. They reached the first houses of the village, waved shyly to each other and took the path to their respective houses.

  T

  asia had finished high school and yet the only extracurricular book she had ever read was a small novel she had borrowed from a schoolmate. She read it in one night, mesmerised by the enchanting power of words and motivated to read every book ever written. But she had had to control her appetite since she had no money to buy books. She didn’t know anybody she could borrow from, neither were there libraries at school or anywhere else. Olga offered to lend her a book on the understanding she would read it in private. Tasia took it eagerly and with gratitude.

  ‘Kazantzakis is one of the best writers. He fires me up. He disturbs me. He expresses my thoughts. He exposes the human treachery, the weakness, the cruelty, the injustices and the hypocrisy of men of the cloth. That’s why the church is trying to have his books banned,’ Olga enthused.

  The writer’s words fell on Tasia’s mind like raindrops on thirsty soil. She was enchanted and found her emotions fluctuating. She would laugh one moment and cry the next. Her elation was followed by despair; love succeeded hate; anger lead to forgiveness. She identified fully with the humiliated and oppressed people in the novel: all those who like herself had no control of their life and destiny. She felt disgusted by the wicked and callous disregard of some to the suffering of others. She got angry with those who focused on their own importance and success, and exploited and humiliated those less fortunate.

  Although metaphorically written, the author presented in a powerful and convincing way the callous robbers of human dignity. He exposed the hypocrisy of some respected pillars of society, even institutions that used all sorts of shams to accu-mulate wealth, power and control, leaving the poor stranded and struggling to survive, with no time or energy to protest or revolt.

  In these pages Tasia recognised many of her own ideas and feelings, even those she had not yet acknowledged: concerns still in the process of maturing, and doubts, thousands of doubts. She was thrilled to realise another human being who didn’t know her had identified and presented her innermost self in an elegant and unique way.

  Fascinated and intrigued, she couldn’t put the book down, and only left her room to fill up her water jug and go to the toilet. When finally she reached the end and lifted her eyes to the window, she had no idea if it had just got dark or if it was past midnight. Her head throbbed, her body was stiff and her eyes burned. But she felt inspired and determined to do something positive: to work for the creation of a better and more humane society, for a better tomorrow, even though she felt humble and insignificant.

  Responding to an urgent call of nature Tasia tiptoed down-stairs and reached the slightly open front door. She thought someone had forgotten to close it properly and was ready to step out into the garden. Suddenly, a murmur of voices stopped her dead in her tracks. She soon recognised her mother’s voice.

  ‘I have no idea what she’s doing. Last night her lamp was on all night. Today was the same. She doesn’t show the slightest interest in anything. She doesn’t talk or ask questions. She hasn’t even noticed we’ve sold the cow to have something to eat. She’s never asked why nobody gives us work. What can I say? I’m very disappointed. I had high hopes she’d do something with all the schooling she’s had. There’s no way we can send Kostas to finish his schooling as well. I’ve reached my limit. I’m tired and very upset.’

  Through the door’s opening, Tasia could see a small luminous dot moving slowly up and down. She recognised it as a lighted cigarette her father was bringing to and from his lips.

  ‘It was all your idea,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I couldn’t make up my mind if we should let her go, but what alternative did I have? You were adamant and I couldn’t stand your quarrelling. That’s how you always are. When you get a bee in your bonnet nobody can reason with you. I can say to you ‘I told you so’, but what’s the use? We have a big problem on our hands and I have no idea how to deal with it. If she doesn’t pass, that’s it. Finis. There is no way we can keep her there for another year. We’ve done all we can and we’re finding ourselves between a rock and a hard place: an impasse. And there is nothing put aside for her dowry. All along people were right: schooling can’t replace a good dowry. Men don’t want to marry an educated woman. They’re scared of educated women as the devil is scared of incense. And let’s face it, your daughter is no longer capable of hard work.’

  ‘She keeps herself shut in her
room, can’t be bothered to talk and most of the time walks as if sleepwalking,’ her mother added.

  ‘She’s also often in the company of that midwife,’ her father said. ‘No one knows where she came from or what sort of person she is and, according to some, her past is not that honourable.’

  Tasia could not stand it any longer. Deep in shock, she climbed the stairs to her room as quietly as possible. Her parents’ words reverberated non-stop in her mind. Horrified, she felt she was slipping into a thick slime pit without any protrusion to step on — nothing to hold on to and pull herself out.

  Her parents were absolutely right. Her decent, hardworking and self-sacrificing parents! Influenced by Kazantzaki’s ideas she was ready to go out there and change the world, oblivious of the dreadful reality in front of her own eyes. She now realised that for years she had exploited her parents, sponged on them, taken advantage of their love and their generosity. She dreamed of fighting to bring about the universal principles of justice and respect for people and life. Surely there couldn’t be a bigger hypocrite than she was.

  The thought of looking her parents in the eye filled her with shame and guilt. She found the idea of living with them under the same roof intolerable. They had seen through her, they knew what a selfish and useless parasite she was. She was an unbearable load and a bitter disappointment to them. She was such a dreamboat and only now had she become aware of it. Oh, why was she here? Why was she ever born at all?

  No! There was no way she could face her parents in the morning. She had to go, leave the house early before they got up. But she couldn’t go just like that and upset them even more.

  I’m going to Ptolemais to wait for the exam results due on Thursday morning. I’ll stay in Helen’s house. I’ll be back on Friday.

  She wrote on a piece of paper and left it lying outside their closed door. Then she left.

  Morning was just breaking. The faint stars were just visible in the milky sky. The morning coolness was soothing. A dog crossed her path slowly, looked at her and lazily wagged its tail. The crowing roosters competed with each other. A cuckoo’s calling echoed from afar.

  She stood on the wooden bridge and looked at the diminished clear water of the river gurgling over boulders and pebbles, considering what to do next. It was far too early to start walking to Ptolemais alone. But she couldn’t stay on the bridge waiting for the sun to rise. People were bound to talk. She took a few steps and, at the crossroad, she turned automatically left and found herself in front of Olga’s house. She hesitated for a short while and then knocked discretely at Olga’s window.

  ‘For pity’s sake, what has happened to you?’ Olga asked, alarmed when she opened the window and found Tasia standing there. ‘What are you doing out here so early in the morning? Are you okay? Is everybody okay? You look as if you have seen a ghost! Wait, I’ll open the front door.’

  Olga opened the door, barefooted. She was wearing a dainty low-cut nightie and her hair was loose over her back and shoulders. She greeted Tasia warmly, let her into her room and had her sit at the foot of her bed. But Olga’s warmth didn’t make Tasia feel any less abandoned and cut off from the rest of the world. She thought that by some unfortunate accident of fate or trickery she was born to the wrong family, at the wrong time and on the wrong planet.

  She watched Olga light up the gas stove and make coffee.

  ‘Come on, then. Tell me. What’s the problem?’ Olga repeated as she passed her the cup and sat beside her.

  Tasia remained mute for a while, trying to control the tears streaming down her cheeks.

  ‘I’m the scum of the earth,’ she finally mumbled. ‘Even my parents can’t stand me. I overheard them talk about me last night and only then I realised what a heavy burden and disappointment I’ve been to them. I’m so ashamed. I don’t think I can face them again. I’m full of disgust and self-loathing.’

  ‘Come, come! You’re putting a very dramatic slant on things. It’s natural for you to get upset hearing your parents saying something negative about you. But don’t forget, whatever they did for you was their decision. They decided to send you to high school. I’m not suggesting you ought to forget their efforts and their sacrifices, but it’s the nature of parents to love unconditionally, that is, to give without expecting anything in return.’

  She put her arms around the sobbing Tasia, to comfort her.

  ‘Believe me, you’re neither scum nor a parasite. You’re passing through a crucial stage in your life, waiting for the exam results, worrying about your future. Don’t you think you should be kinder to yourself?’

  She gave Tasia a handkerchief to wipe her tears.

  ‘I’ve passed through that stage and I understand you. The only difference was that I didn’t have to consider my parents’ feelings. Now, keep your chin up and let’s see how we can deal with your predicament.’

  She got up and paced up and down the room. Then she turned to Tasia.

  ‘When do you expect the results to be out?’

  ‘On Thursday.’

  ‘Fine. My program for today is to visit the village of Alpha, the first village to the right on the way to Ptolemais. You’re coming with me. Soon as I finish there, we’ll go together to Ptolemais. I hope we’d find somewhere to stay overnight.’

  ‘We’ll stay at Helen’s house,’ interrupted Tasia.

  It was still early when they took the road to the village of Alpha. The weather signs predicted a scorcher of a day. It was the wheat-harvesting season and the families were out in the fields, the men ripping with scythes and sickles and the women and children doing the gathering. Big wheat stacks were brought close to the threshing floors.

  Sleepless and emotionally drained, Tasia followed Olga in a mindless way till they reached the tee intersection leading to the village of Alpha. where a few years back she had seen George for the last time. Ever since, she could feel her heart racing each time she passed this intersection. She stopped suddenly, unable to take another step.

  ‘Well, what is it now? Why did you stop?’ Olga called back to her when she realised Tasia wasn’t following.

  But Tasia didn’t answer. She turned around and went and sat at the same spot where two years earlier she had waited for George. Mystified, Olga came back and sat next to her.

  ‘Don’t you feel well?’ she asked with concern.

  ‘No. I’m fine. But I can’t go to that village. You go,’ she replied, obviously agitated.

  ‘But why? What’s come over you suddenly?’

  ‘Nothing! Nothing! You go. I’m tired. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to go anywhere.’

  Tasia was being obstinate.

  ‘Okay. But I can’t leave you here alone. You’ll come with me to the village and I’ll find you somewhere to sit until I finish. Then we’ll come back here to take the three-thirty bus to Ptolamais. I’m sorry but I can’t change my program. People are waiting for me.’

  Tasia got up and dutifully followed Olga while her mind kept busy creating fantastic scenarios, like meeting George. The moment they reached the first houses, these dreams changed to absolute convictions. Yes, today she was going to meet George since she was at the verge of entering a new stage in her life. By a strange twist of fate she had to come to this village today, to reconnect with the man of her life. Destiny worked in mysterious ways, steering the life of each individual to a predetermined plan. Destiny, not free will, determined the fate of each person on this planet.

  The small mud-brick houses were baking in the scorching sun, frames of drying tobacco leant against their walls. The dirt streets were narrow and full of potholes. The village seemed deserted. The strong smell of tobacco reminded Tasia of familiar scenes: people sitting cross-legged on the ground at some shaded corner in their yard or inside the house, needling tobacco leaves onto strings, and placing them on frames out in the sun to dry.

  As they turned a corner that was exactly what they saw: a whole family sitting under the shade of a big plain tree, proces
sing the freshly cut tobacco leaves. As the two girls approached they lowered their voices, studying them carefully.

  ‘Good morning,’ Olga greeted them. ‘How are you keeping? Well?’ And before receiving an answer she asked, ‘Is the coffee shop open?’

  ‘Good morning,’ they answered in unison, while an old man rolled over onto all fours, and managed to get up on his feet.

  What a cheek, thought Tasia, making the old man drop his work to make her coffee. What a cheek! Only then she noticed a faded sign with the word Cafenion above the door.

  ‘The coffee shop is always open. Only the customers are missing,’ said the old man wiping his hands on the legs of his trousers that were stiff and shiny like leather from the sap of the plant.

  ‘I’ve seen you before. I know you from somewhere,’ he said, looking at Olga.

  ‘Oh, Dad! Don’t you remember? She’s the government midwife and has been through here several times,’ a young woman said.

  ‘My cousin, Despina, wants to see you. She is expecting her first baby and is very young and shy. She doesn’t want to see anybody else except you. Her house is on the first street to the right, the third from the corner.’

  She was speaking as a person who knew what her cousin was going through evidenced by the sleeping baby on a rug next to her.

  ‘After I drink my coffee and a glass of cold water I’ll go and see your Mayor,’ Olga said studying her watch. ‘He has promised to find a place for me to see all my patients instead of my having to run all over the village. When I come back to fetch my assistant, the first person I’ll go to see will be your cousin.’

  ‘Stay and have a rest here,’ she advised Tasia. ‘In two minutes I’ll be back.’ She turned to the others. ‘ I’m leaving Tasia, my assistant, here,’ she said and then left.