Desperado Dale (Scenic Route to Paradise)

by Andrea Aarons

  Her sweater and a crochet needle lay in her lap. The sun had shifted and she was no longer in the shade. The chaise lounge she rested in was the only piece of furniture on the balcony. There was room for little else. Below, the American emerged within her view as he came from the kitchen. He stood a moment before squatting to pick up a stone. There was a cell phone in his other hand and he was speaking. Suddenly with an explosive gesture Dale threw the stone. Bethania drew her breath… This stranger, Dale from America reminded her of the stone bestowing cloaked man of her dreams.

  The mysterious truth unfolding in her dreams was linked to Dale. The stone, leather covered, she reminded herself, was the key and this American was the door… No, not the door but a doorkeeper, perhaps.

  Her conclusion was correct.

  Chapter 17 Pieces of the Puzzle

  Only Junior had returned to the deck. The Forenoon watch was his while the others remained around the table in the galley.

  Tino was scooping together a pile of shavings from his carving. His look was one of indifference but everyone had been shaken to the core by the fantastic sea encounter they had just experienced.

  Merry’s tummy fluttered. She felt absolutely giddy. Her God was an awesome God and she knew that for a fact.

  Mac had been plying the waters of the seven seas for thirty years. He had seen a kaleidoscope of strange happenings but this tsunami-UFO high drama had him wondering just what kind of God he had chosen to serve. Many a time in the last few months since he had made that choice, Mac experienced God’s divine intervention but the morning’s miraculous event was in a league all its own.

  In shock, Zeff had said nothing while the others tried to explain or describe what had happened. None of their conclusions made sense. His hand trembled as he brought the coffee mug to his pale lips.

  The galley talk ceased. Finally, Merry said, “Somehow we got caught up in a battle being fought in the heavenlies. Something here on this side – on Earth triggered the veil between the… uh, the worlds to open.” And then she added her much repeated phrase, “Wow! God is awesome!” Followed by, “Did you see how he rescued us? Wow! God is awesome!”

  Mac smiled at her exuberance but wondered once again how she would fit in with the demure women of D’Almata. Tino glanced at her uneasily before turning back to his iron wood carving and knife.

  Zeff blurted out, “You were dreaming or so you said. How can I be pulled into your dream like that? It was a nightmare! What was that song coming from your face? Please, leave me out of it! No more for me! If you don’t mind. I have problems enough.” He looked from Mac to Merry and then back to Mac.

  “Has the world gone crazy or is it just me? Be honest,” he asked.

  “Come, my friend,” Mac stood and reached for Zeff, laying his hand on the other’s shoulder. They went into the salon. Tino went above decks and Merry straightened the galley as she listened-in on her husband.

  “Honestly, I don’t think life on this planet has been this destabilized in a very long time. Zeff, what we’re experiencing is alluded to in scripture,” Mac said. He sat down adjacent to Zeff in a tan leather swivel chair. Zeff sat down heavily landing on the matching leather settee.

  “Humans are a fragile bunch compared to these heavenly creatures described in the Bible. I suppose we won’t know the whole story until God reveals it but Genesis talks of a time when the ‘sons of god’ lived among us humans and giants were born from them. You’ve heard of Goliath, right?” Mac asked. Zeff nodded as he looked around for his cigarettes. Neither Zeff nor Tino smoked below deck. Mac didn’t allow it but Zeff wanted to merely put one unlit in his mouth to calm his nerves.

  “Well, it turns out that there are lots of legends that include giants and even some artifacts have been discovered worldwide that indicate there was a super race walking the planet at one time. The most ancient of religions worship these giants,” Mac nodded to himself and looked wistfully past Zeff to the sea framed by a port window.

  The unlit cigarette jittered about his face as Zeff said with an accented quiver in his voice, “Si, but those legends are only that... stories, myths but what we saw was supernatural. The water, those aircraft and the tsunami; it cannot be possible. I took two years of physics in college and I’m telling you these things that happened – they did not happen!” He finished his statement with emphasis.

  Mac refocused on Zeff as he spoke. “Making the laws of science is God’s business. He is very orderly! We live within the parameters of these laws that God established but He does not and apparently, the spiritual realm follows a different set of laws than we do. I suppose it is like water creatures and land animals. Some things are the same but all in all, land animals cannot breathe under water and fish cannot live without a watery environment.”

  Zeff looking at Mac agreed. “Yes, it makes sense like that but I do not enjoy being a character on God’s stage. I was in a sci-fi movie!”

  Mac grinned. “I suppose with every miracle we humans want a logical explanation… It isn’t good enough that there has been a great miracle performed by a supernatural God on our behalf but we also want the formula to answer all our questions.”

  Continuing to smile, Mac said, “Zeff, you’re correct! It was like a stage! I was singing but I am not a singer, as you know by now being on this little boat with me for so many months!

  You know my friend, you should be grateful that God loves you and allowed you to be part of His plan today. I think we may have gotten swallowed up by that tsunami or vaporized by those not-so-friendly heavenly visitors… I don’t know how it would have played out but I do know that God loves you. If you had died… Where would you be right now? I’m curious about your thoughts on this because we all came very close to leaving this world behind today.”

  Thoughts of death and the fragile threshold between one heartbeat and the next had played about Zeff’s mind all morning. Dead and in hell, he had concluded more than once sitting in the galley as the others raved about the “adventure.” He was raised a Catholic! Of course I believe in hell, purgatory and all the church propaganda, he wanted to say. Instead Zeff said, “I suppose I would be drifting face down among the flotsam.”

  Astonished, Mac let out a chuckle that could be heard throughout the sloop. “If you were destined to be drowned and floating among the waves, you would have died months ago, that day we dragged you out of the Vallarta Bay!” Mac laughed again and shook his head. “You see Zeff, God has spared you. I think you must have a destiny that includes surviving supernatural battles with foes the size of giants.”

  Zeff didn’t like the sound of that prophecy. He muttered in Spanish and then he questioned in English, “How do you know so much about these giants? Did you major in mythology or something?”

  Mac sobered. The smile faded and he answered as he got up to go to his berth to pray, “The giants? I know them and they know me. The infamous ‘Twelve Gods of Renown’ are worshipped by my people on D’Almata.”

  Chapter 18 Above the Ruins

  Satisfied that Anna and her companions were not those traveling with the blond American male who cunningly made off with a small fortune, Karlo and his right hand man mounted their bikes. He realized that the unreliable boy, Guppo was not worth chastising… Not at this time, anyway. The men headed back to the city, leaving a dusty cloud in their wake. Anna and the others were not surprised when Jellybean’s ear piercing whistle brought Guppo out from the shrubbery.

  Afterward, when she and the boy had returned to the car and Anna finished speaking with Dale, she asked Guppo what he thought of the group called, New Dawn. There had been lots of talk about the faction before she left the states. Mostly from the common people of Greece, the chatter glowingly cast them in a positive light. As the national infrastructure began failing members of the New Dawn stepped in providing food, medicine and protection. There had been rumors of violence and the abuse of power too.

  Nine year old Guppo gave his viewpoint. “When I was a little boy, ever
yone liked these men. They were nice. Lately, my family tells me they are mean and I am to stay out of their way.” He didn’t appear fearful as he spoke. He said, “I didn’t see it with my own eyes but my sister told me they came to the store and took all the cigarettes and some other things without paying… That was before I went to visit. Also, the boys told me that they beat up people just for fun.” The child hadn’t made the link between the men on the café bikes being one and the same as the New Dawn agents.

  Bernie had called Guppo their tour guide but the boy knew very little of island geography that was not within a half mile of his own threshold. They stopped in the late afternoon. Anna was tired of driving on bumpy roads with the added necessity of dodging goats, bikes and fowl acting as obstacle course. Their average speed was 7 miles an hour according to Dale’s grandfather.

  A wind worn sign, posted at a crossroads indicated a restaurant-motel was less than 250 meters up the hill. Anna looked at her gas gauge and was content that they indeed had enough to get them to the coast in the morning. Tonight she needed rest. Guppo, Dale and the others, the motorcycles and the tortuous driving had worn her out. The sun had not made its bow yet. Still by the time they made provision for the night, it would be dark.

  The motel and restaurant were part of a smallish town. At one time it may have been a tourist stop because there were stone ruins on the hillside facing the western sea. Anna didn’t ask. The owners, a family, scrambled as the rental car came to a stop in front of place. Bernie reached past Guppo to throw the car door open. He had to get out. The old man stretched and grunted to the mortification of Guppo.

  Anna went inside with Guppo at her heels and a grey terrier at Guppo’s heels. A middle aged woman with copper red hair and a younger woman – a brunette, greeted Anna while ignoring Guppo.

  They had two rooms that would be ready for guests momentarily. Would Anna like to order dinner first? She would? Wonderful!

  The brunette disappeared and Guppo could hear her yelling to her siblings to clean up the back patio.

  It was almost an hour later when the car was emptied and the family, including Guppo was seated at the back patio. The view of the northwestern tip of the island was in plain sight. The sun disappeared off to their left making the northern waters look purple. It had been a hot day but now it was cooling. Flaming tiki torches encircled the eating area.

  Bottled soda and a coffee with warm cream were brought out as requested. Anna stirred her thick coffee in its tiny cup.

  Bernie said, “We’re making headway, yes sir.” He winked at Guppo who smiled and drank his soda pop.

  Anna nodded but she had hoped to make it all the way to her cousin’s home. Instead, they had taken the back way and again, they were forced to stop for the night. Belatedly, she realized that the so-called shortcut took twice as long because the roads were in such disrepair. If she had been traveling alone, Anna would have skipped the meal, retiring to her room to have a good cry.

  Later as the night arrived in earnest bringing a wet chill, Anna and the children fell asleep but Bean took her pillow – the one she used in the car and went to Bernie’s room.

  His room had a kerosene lamp turned low. He seated Bean at a square wooden table. There were two chairs in the room so Bernie sat in the other one after closing the window shutter and setting the lamp on the window ledge.

  Bean unzipped the cushion and brought forth the journal. As she adjusted the cushion in the chair for her back, Bernie plucked the notebook up.

  Examining the several excerpts, he said, “You read it dear. You were always the better reader… go ahead.”

  “Oh, nonsense! Mr Adams, we both know you’re a natural when it comes to memorizing lines, acting and whistling. Your whistle is so clear and strong. It always was,” she responded as she adjusted her reading glasses.

  Bernie let out a quiet chuckle, “We weren’t the USO but we were an act! Weren’t we? Our performances were superb although your acting was done behind the scenes… We put our lives on the line during the war. I was so proud to be doing my bit for our country… for freedom!”

  For several minutes, they discussed their nation’s dismal future prospects; America was in ruins. Would the citizens rise above it? And also, they reminisced until the inevitable tiff broke out between them. At this point, with more force than before, Bernie said again, “You read it, dear. You were always the better reader… go ahead.”

  And because she thought he put such an ugly emphasis on the word “dear,” Bean agreed that she was the better reader. She began to read.

  Chapter 19 ...But Who Will Guard the Goat?

  As the seasons changed, Greek industriousness moved to high gear. Summer was the time of lazy living while the other seasons were filled with harvesting, canning, baking, bartering and all the rest which in turn allowed for the celebrations of summer.

  Old Bethania was the leader of the Jews who congregated at the villa. There was a synagogue in the Kerkira Jewish quarter, and the small band had visited there individually. The cultural and religious warmth that had made the Jewish section of town a magnet to wealthy Jewish tourists in the early 1900’s had cooled since the Final Solution arrived with the Nazis during WWII. Although, it had remained touristy when tourists were still coming to the island.

  A handful of those taken away to Auschwitz and some who escaped beforehand, returned after the war. Greece was not a welcoming place in those post-war years and so, most of the remnant Jews of the Ionian Isles left for greener pastures. It was only recently a contingent of young professional Jews had arrived and were living and working in the capital. Bethania had heard promising rumors about these young people but she knew none of them personally. She didn’t know of any of the originals, those from the pre-World War II days who were still living on the islands. She was the last.

  Originally, she had taken Sam under her spiritual wing while he had given her a place to stay. Bethania already had a little house only 3 kilometers south. According to Sam, it was too far and he wanted to make her comfortable because she was old and she was wise and she was Jewish like his own grandmother.

  Sam’s lifestyle had been somewhat of an embarrassment to his family even in this modern age of decadence. When it crossed his mind to offer Bethania a room in the vast villa, Sam was being pressed by guilt. Being both Greek and Jew, the double duty remorse pushed him to the invitation and she accepted gladly. Afterward, Sam never regretted including Bethania into his household. She was industrious and besides, the villa owner never visited.

  Sam was celibate but he hadn’t always been and his ex was Jewish too. When vandals defaced some of the historic buildings in the Jewish quarter, the Jews on the island took notice. One evening a week later, a local lawyer with an obviously Judaic surname was severely beaten as he walked from his office toward home.

  Several ready-to-retire Kerkyrian Jews decided to cut their losses by leaving for Israel. Their gentile friends reassured them that they were safe on the island while Israel, on the other hand was daily threatened on every side... “Israel is surrounded and at war... Stay!” But like salmon swimming to return, Jews sensed the pull of their motherland to which they must respond. The anti-Semitism was only the last argument failing to keep them away. Nowhere was safe for the Jews and yet, Israel seemed the safest and who knew but their God might intervene on their behalf.

  Every Jew felt the salmon like tug including Bethania. Still, she tarried. In the meanwhile, young Jews began to rally about her. Not the new professionals in Kerkira the capital who had recently resettled on the isle but a rag-tag group of outcasts. Sometimes there would be as many as twenty Jews and none over the age of 30 congregated at the villa. She had never seen such a mixed-up bunch of people, especially Jewish people in all her 80 plus years. They were a creative, smart crowd; fearful and immoral as if raised by a troop of monkeys. Each one without exception had a dysfunctional moral compass. The old woman connected their amoral behavior to the missing generation of old wise p
eople.

  So many adults and elderly Jews killed during the last war! The elderly Jewess ruminated. Their wisdom and prophetic insight; their perseverance and knowledge to survive, gone without the full fruition passed on to the children and grandchildren.

  Bethania never had children...

  ‘Sing, O barren, You who have not borne! Break forth into singing, and cry aloud, You who have not labored with child! For more are the children of the desolate than the children of the married woman," says the LORD.’

  Making the promise her own, the old woman had quoted that scripture many a time but lately she wondered at the original intent or true meaning. After all, it was a futuristic promise described by the Jewish prophet Isaiah and yet, the Jews or rather Israel was counted as the wife of God. Who then was this barren woman? Bethania sensed that her many complaints and questions regarding the eternal God would be answered... eventually.

  It had been three days since, Sam and Dale had decided on a plan to travel north to the mountainous area of Avliotes. Sam would take goods to trade and then leave Dale in Evangelos before returning.

  The western shore of Kerkyra had not only lovely beaches but also, vineyards, orchards and rare dyes that came from shells collected several times a year when storms washed them ashore. Although a smallish island, Kerkyra’s native specialities were regionally distinct. In the far past, seasonally the islanders ventured to barter their region’s wares and to trade for what they lacked locally. Goods smuggled in from Italy and D’Almata were often found in the larger coastal towns of northern Kerkyra, including the inland Avliotes. Besides the plethora of olive groves, lumber and distinctive cheeses - all local products that their southern brethren sought after when traveling the mountain roads north, Avliotes’ specialty was their secret extraction method which produced a coveted olive oil.