Desperado Dale (Scenic Route to Paradise)

by Andrea Aarons

  Dale was mesmerized by their graphic historic sketch. As a child, he had seen the prison camp numerical tattoos on several elderly Jews while living in Cape Town, South Africa. Many Jews settled there after World War II. He had visited the excellent holocaust museum there – many times.

  Sam was up making tea. At the table, looking at the woman in awe, Dale asked in a reverent whisper, “And you? You must have been very young. What happened afterward?”

  Bethania reach across the table top to place her empty bowl on top of Dale’s dish. She said, “I was young but I remember. Don’t misunderstand. Many Jews escaped. There was a deliberate scheme arranged to funnel the Jews from mainland Europe through these islands and then on to safety... Many went on to Israel. I did not live on Kerkyra then... No, I came back to these islands some years later. I lived south of here. The Jews there all survived. We had a very shrewd governor. He and his good friend finagled with the Germans until we all escaped.” She laughed her soft laugh once more.

  Sam said, “It’s true. No one mentions what happened but the Jews of Zakynthos were saved by the compassion and wits of just two men.” He set down hot tea in front of Dale and Bethania before picking up the dinner dishes.

  Nodding, Bethania said, “We were close to our brethren who lived here. I had many family members in this community. Some left but many stayed on hoping that we would be overlooked. We humans rarely learn from history, eh?”

  With eyes downcast as if examining his tea, Dale asked, “What happened? How did two men save all of you who were still here on the islands when the Nazis showed up?”

  As she continued to rock her head up and down reassuringly, Bethania said, “The Germans arrived in 1943 and they appointed Lucas Karrer as mayor. It wasn’t long before they demanded a list of all the Jews living on Zakynthos... Ah, the Germans enjoy their lists; so methodical. Anyway, the church sent a wire imploring Hitler to leave us... the Jews alone. I suppose a sort of house arrest was being put forward. I’m not sure but nothing came of it. In the meantime, the local bishop, Dimitrious bribed the German commander. He ignored us for awhile but the inevitable time arrived when he demanded again the list with our names on it.” Listening intently but with eyes averted, Dale blew on his tea. Sam had sat again with his own cup of tea and some papers before him. The dogs were stretching as if preparing for a long walk. Bethania sipped her brew loudly.

  She said, “Ne, we were so grateful for the support given us by the gentiles of Zakynthos. The delay they caused was enough for all of us to escape. There was hiding and tunnels and a boat. Yes! I remember. It was cold and I felt so important carrying my little portmanteau.” The small dog Dale called Toto, began to whine at the kitchen door. Dale thought Sam was going to let the little fellow out, as he pushed from the table and headed toward the back of the kitchen.

  Dale’s third surprise occurred as Bethania finished her rendition and pony-dog hurried after Sam. “You might wonder whether or not those orderly Nazis received their demanded list. Well, they did all right.” She chuckled quietly, triumphantly as the door was opened and three men and a young woman piled in before Sam shut it quickly behind them. Bethania said, “Ne, the mayor gave the commander the list of names and there were just two on it; Mayor Karrer’s name and the bishop’s.”

  Chapter 11 Potato Soup

  “Bean dear, Grandpa Bernie got the map but what was that note the woman from the Inn gave you?” asked Anna. The rental car wound down the hill and stopped for a gaggle of geese being escorted along the dirt drive by two barefoot boys. After a moment, Anna eased the vehicle forward. There was some shouting as she continued down the hill but she saw in the rearview mirror only the tiny figure of a child waving wildly. Window down, Anna waved a farewell to one small boy and his geese.

  In the meantime, Grandpa Adams was replying to Bean’s answer which Anna had missed as she concentrated on skirting without injury, the geese and the children.

  “Sylvia gave you a recipe?” They had all had a bowl of warmed soup and bread with soft cheese the evening before.

  “Yes. I was so hungry last night when we arrived and her husband... What’s-his-name served us that potato soup. I’m going to include it in my heirloom cookbook,” Bean responded with a sniff. “Besides, Anna is Greek and I think we should have a few Greek dishes in my book to honor her.”

  Anna, her mind at ease with no one in sight on the narrow dirt road before them, replied. “Grandma Bean, you are so thoughtful. I love the Greek potato soups! My cousin will make us a pot no doubt when we arrive.”

  She relished potato soup although her parents never made the popular dish. Her father remembered months on end after World War II when Greece was experiencing deprivations due to crop failures and their civil war. As a boy, many times his mother and older sisters would put stones – smooth rocks that resembled potatoes into the boiling gruel and then, serving it as a meal for the family. The memory of the counterfeit soup of his youth kept Anna’s family in America from ever making Greek potato soup. Compared to the watery rock stew served during the Greek Civil War, the tasty and hearty soups of modern Greece were a savory feast even with the difficulties that had overtaken the nationals as of late. It appeared to Anna that most Europeans were hungry but no one was starving... Not yet.

  Bean read the handwritten recipe out loud.

  Kerkyra Potato Soup

  6 medium potatoes - grated (red potatoes are nice)

  2 medium onions or leeks, chopped

  6 cups stock (chicken or vegetable)

  2 or 3 cups mushrooms, cleaned & sliced

  1 - 2 tbsp olive oil

  dried parsley

  salt and pepper

  First, chop the onions. Next, heat the oil with the dried parsley and some pepper. When you smell the parsley add in the onions stirring to coat - let them cook for about two minutes then add the potatoes a little at time while you continue to stir. Let the potatoes cook (keep an eye on them and stir regularly) when the potatoes and onions are soft but not browned add the stock (this is usually after five to ten minutes). Let the soup simmer until the stock is more substantial and bit thick on the back of a spoon.

  Finally, about 15 to 20 minutes before serving add the mushrooms. Sprinkle parsley on top and serve.

  As Bean concluded her instructions for the making of potato soup, she tilted her head back against the passenger seat headrest and began to snore.

  Chapter 12 Life Saviors

  A carpet of water was propelling the Serendipity at breakneck speed toward an oceanic cliff that arose several miles to the west and north. The sensation was similar to riding an escalator or the walking sidewalks at the airport, only much faster.

  Merry didn’t have the leisure to study the event. Her brain was screaming at her feet, hands and eyes. Slow motion... I’m moving in slow motion! Forcing her face away from the horizon, she looked to Mac and made her legs obey. Out of the corner of her eye, Merry caught Junior moving to cross her path. She thrust out a life jacket as he approached. Without missing a beat he grabbed it, continuing across the deck toward his goal.

  Turning from Mac after thrusting a vest before him, Merry noticed shadows crisscrossing the deck. A strange longing to look up to see perhaps several wide-winged albatrosses overtook her but she resisted the impulse. Ahead of her was Zeff and Tino pulling and pushing frantically on the mainsail. Mac wanted no sail in case there was a freak wind accompanying the approaching tsunami. Already the sloop was moving at 40 knots or more along with the rushing water being drawn toward the enormous wave.

  Not only did Merry sense she was moving frustratingly slow, as if through gelatin, semi-gelled but there was an absence of sound. Mac’s lips had been moving when she gave him his life vest. The wind rustled the sails as they sped west and yet, Merry heard nothing. Her mouth was open and she seemed to be speaking or even, yelling but her words emptied into a void. When she left the jackets with Tino and Zeff, Merry began to pray as she headed for Mac’s side. To her amazement, h
er prayer came forth crystal clear. Her voice had an authoritative tone not unlike the operatic singer in an Italian opera. She loved to sing! Smiling widely, she continued her sing-song praying. Mac and Junior hesitated in their concentration on the wall of water growing high before them, to glance back at her.

  Instantly, Merry stood by her husband. A shift, and now the sky and the water moved exceptionally slow but not Merry. Turning forward, Mac once again confronted the water giant and then he began praying too. Large fleeting shadows continued darting across the deck. Merry shifted her gaze to Junior. He was praying; his face skyward. She looked up.

  Merry’s song like prayer faltered but a moment. Above them, maybe a mile or more were dozens of foreign looking aircraft. If Merry didn’t know better, she would have guessed that an alien air battle was taking place. The guesstimation didn’t firm up in her mind. Instead, Merry decided quite confidently that she was indeed dreaming.

  The music that she, Mac and Junior were making together with their loud melodious prayers was angelic. She didn’t want the dream to quit! Singing, praying and looking aloft she felt Mac’s hand on her arm.

  Oh, no! If Mac wakes me up now I won’t get to see how this great adventure ends. Our music will stop!

  Evidently, she didn’t wake up. Merry pulled her eyes from the battle above and looked over the bow toward the mountainous wave with a churning mist above and its wide shadow before. Comprehending that it was a dream and God, Himself seemed to be present speaking through her as she sang and prayed, fear was absent. Merry sensed only God’s presence and Mac to her right as he harmonized with Junior.

  Oceanic mountain peaks were uncovered by the tsunami suction. Fish, large fish and small could be seen swimming crazily just beneath the water about their boat. Exploding from the ocean current, a seashell covered peak appeared to rise up near them as they sped on but in reality, seawater was being sucked up into the oncoming wave revealing the normally submerged world. Still fearless, Merry was in awe of the detail she saw... The widening black shadow of the monster wave was racing to meet them. Never had she dreamed so lucidly!

  Everything is color! I can feel the wind on my face...

  Mac’s hand continued firmly on her arm. The prayer coming from him drew her attention. He was rebuking the wave! How could he? Hadn’t God set everything in motion; the stars and the heavens, the earth and the sea?

  Understanding their words – her words, Merry realized the three prayer warriors were singing and praying and reprimanding together.

  The sun would soon set behind the rising cliff of water as the Serendipity drew near the dark ocean face that stretched before the wave as shadow. At the edge of her mind, Merry was conscious of an increasing din coming from the sky but now the sound grew noisy and fiery debris tumbled down into the gloom in front of them, extinguished when the flame hit the water.

  When the bow touched the shadow of the tsunami and it seemed all would be momentarily lost (if it hadn’t been a dream, was Merry’s thought) the chaotic scene before them stopped. The landscape was like a photo snapshot catching the action. The wall of water, the shadow making the ocean black before them and the massive peaks poking out from the seabed with foamy streams pouring forth like waterfalls, went absolutely still. One meteorite-like UFO was frozen in view where it had hit a protruding rocky peak and deflected off toward the water; the flame, the smoke seemed a camera still shot. Nothing moved but the breath of their voices. Heavenly sounding voices rising and dropping like a divine choir led by an invisible master choir director.

  Instantly, the picture before them including the humongous wave opened like a zipper. The sun burst through, shining from the other side as the sloop continued forward into the still panorama. They rode on a crest of an independent mound of sunny water passing the silent, still black shadow of death and then, between the walls of the tsunami!

  Mouth gaping, Merry watched as the bisected wave allowed them through. She shifted her gaze for a mere moment to see Junior’s expression. Hands gripping tight the handrail before him, Junior had his head thrown back and was singing like a drunken sailor... a holy sailor filled with the new wine. She almost wanted to wake up so she could tell Junior of what she had seen of him in her dream but she resisted.

  Looking to Mac, his hand on her arm and a smiling song coming from his lips, Merry then turned again to the valley they were traversing. It was like Moses and the children of Israel crossing the Red Sea with the waters held up on either side of the escaping group. Not remembering that the words were found in the Book of Micah chapter six, Merry thought of God’s reminder to His people of old:

  I brought you up from the land of Egypt, I redeemed you from the house of bondage; and I sent before you Moses, Aaron, and Miriam.

  After Israel was delivered, the King of Egypt and his army were destroyed by the imploding waters. A thought erupted in her mind and she turned quickly toward the rear of the sloop. Zeff and Tino were hugging one another like frightened and naughty brothers who had been caught stealing cookies. Beyond the stern, the ocean churned purple and frothed and boiled. Everything was in motion again! The sky, a backdrop of pale blue with red-orange fireballs cascading from the flitting ships made a surreal scene. As Merry watched mesmerized by the violent picture off the stern, an ominous group of aircraft broke away from the high and heated battle. As one, a dozen or more dropped down heading for the breach in the tsunami wall even as a distinctively different squadron pressed in behind them in chase. The approaching aircraft were much larger than she had originally supposed. As they swooped lower, Merry had the impression that the Serendipity was their targeted goal. A spasm of apprehension knotted in her stomach.

  It’s only a dream! She reminded herself but the fear remained. The foremost flying objects looked a lot like pterodactyls as Merry remembered from illustrative books and movies. The aircraft following seemed to herd the mechanical pre-historic look-a-likes into the watery chasm formed by the unzipped tsunami. There were two more waves coming behind the first colossal one and these were halved as well. The sloop had ridden through all three without trouble. However, as the enormous strange crafts came tearing through the valley opening in the great waves aiming for the Serendipity, the heaped up sea walls collapsed swallowing the entire airborne troop within a half a mile from where Merry and Mac stood.

  The singing trio went silent at this fantastic deliverance.

  All was startlingly quiet except the slosh of water against the boat and the muffled rumble of the motor.

  And then, Junior’s solemn voice, “...The sea returned to normal beneath the morning light. They tried to flee, but the Lord drowned them in the sea. The water covered the path and the chariots and horsemen. And of all the army of Pharaoh that chased after Israel through the sea, not one remained alive. God’s people were delivered and the waters had been walled up on either side of them.”

  The sailboat rocked wildly from side to side but the scene behind them was changed. All was calm. There were no pursuing aircraft. The mountaintops that had been protruding from the receding waters were nowhere to be seen. The water was not purple and frothy but a grey-green with a mild swell and white caps, here and there. There were no tsunamis racing for the North African shore. No aircraft in formation...

  A myriad of gulls and a lone albatross circled less than a mile behind them.

  Merry had been holding her breath as she gripped Mac’s upper arm. Her head began to swim. With Mac’s strong hand continuing to hold her forearm, he helped her as she sat abruptly in the captain’s chair. Closing her eyes, she was overcome with fatigue. She heard Mac shuffling about and then as the sun was blocked, she realized he had erected the sunshade canopy. Dozing off for a minute or more, Merry shot her eyes open. Mac was gone. Looking over her shoulder, Junior was not standing where he had been. She faced the stern but even Zeff and Tino were no where in view.

  Down below in the galley, the men were seated about the table. When Merry came through, they quit speaki
ng and in the pause, an excited Merry said, “Junior! I had the craziest dream and you were in it!” Mac shook his head but Junior turned to look at her.

  “For reals! Come above decks and I’ll tell you all about it… Grab those chips. I’m hungry,” she told him.

  Mac interrupted her plans by saying, “He’ll be up as soon as you take your life vest off and stow it along with the others... Step lively, my dear. Step lively.”

  Chapter 13 Stowaway

  Anna took the hairpin right as per Dale’s grandfather’s instruction. He was reading from Sylvia-the-Innkeeper’s map. Gwyneth had fallen asleep. Bean was awake but quiet as she took notes for her memorable family cookbook; at least, as a great-grandmother she intended it to be unforgettably famous.

  The morning was young and Anna thought best and with clarity early in the day. She began to rethink the events of the last few days and then also, the last few months when their travel progressed slowly, almost to a standstill in France. Nothing she had prepped for as a youngster or educated adult, mother or Christian had readied her for the unprecedented situation she found herself in. The stability Anna longed for had been left back in their row home in Philadelphia, along with the unmade bed.

  Ah! I was come back to the unmade bed...

  The morning that they had flown out to London, Anna’s alarm didn’t go off. But that hadn’t unsettled her… No. Her sister had come over the night before and taken the refrigerator items home with her including the half and half, but even so Anna could live without cream in her morning java if necessary. She had argued with Dale and Gwyneth was fussy with a slight fever and yet, these memories held no regret in Anna’s mind.

  Knowing it was unreasonable and borderline obsessive, Anna continued to fret over leaving the bed in disarray.

  The eldest of five siblings, at eight years old Anna was the first to learn her chores and to understand the importance of routine. Her parents, both first generation Greeks were frugal people of order and consistency. Making her bed every morning was the first step in stabilizing her day. She couldn’t remember a morning in the past two decades when she had not made the bed before launching into the day.