A Life In A Moment

by Livos, Stefanos

  A Life In A Moment

  Stefanos Livos

  A Life In A Moment

  Stefanos Livos

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2013

  Translated by Dimitris Thanasoulas

  Edited by Lisa Roberts Carter

  Table of contents

  The secret, 1-6

  Early years, 7-16

  Betrayed, 17-22

  Never look back, 23-27

  Starting over, 28-38

  A missed apology, 39-41

  Dead friendship, 42-49

  Unfading love, 50-57

  A message from the writer

  1

  No matter how long this narration may take, in reality it only lasts a moment...

  No secret can remain hidden for ever. Silently and patiently, it waits in the dark. It lets you build your life, carefully stacking the bricks one by one, and then it appears. It deals its blow and everything crumbles. That's why it remains intact and incorruptible in time, waiting for its ultimate destiny to be revealed. Just like my family secret.

  I grew up without parents. I knew nothing as to their whereabouts or what had become of them. Only one person knew the secret, Aunt Urania. She brought me up. She was the one who became a mother, just like Uncle Haralambos, her husband, who became a father, and Natalia, her daughter, who turned from cousin to sister.

  For a good eighteen years, she managed to hide the secret. It wasn’t that difficult, after all. What with her mute smile whenever I asked her, and my wearied resignation at some point, darkness thickened and the secret drifted away into its depth. Still, there would be a day when it fulfilled its goal.

  During the first years, her acquiescent eyes and her enigmatic smile always baffled me, and I yearned for her to open up to me. But she would just smile and leave. She wouldn’t breathe a word. As I grew older, I resolved to give up on my truth-hunt. I sat under the tree of silence, fully aware that in its shade lurked the secret of my past.

  It was because of that secret I was estranged from the very family that had raised me. That was my own secret. I would never confess such a thing to them.

  We lived in the centre of our small town, on the second floor of a privately owned block of flats. On the first floor was an apartment my aunt intended for Natalia as her dowry, but until then she rented it, while the ground floor was host to the family business: a restaurant called Horizons.

  It was small, but as it was one of the oldest and most famous in town, it was enough for us to make a decent living. Aunt Urania was the cook, with Uncle Haralambos at the helm. Natalia and I were spared the trouble of helping in any way. My aunt claimed that the best years of our lives were still ahead of us, when we could work and be productive. The truth is she didn’t have much confidence in our abilities. Resigned to this, I never insisted.

  I spent most of my time reading. Not on school subjects though. I was far from being a good student. Still, I had read almost the entire body of classic literature. While the other children played on the squares, Greek and English writers alike kept company with me — Papadiamantis, Karkavitsas, Verne, Dickens and Wilde. The only woman granted admission to our circle was Jane Austen. I would take them all to the house by the sea, the one I would inherit when I came of age.

  It was the paternal home of my aunt and my mother; quite remote, situated on the outskirts of the town. It was two-storey, boasting a wooden attic, which I used as a reading room in gloomy, wet weather. Through its window, on my left-hand side, I could see the town in the distance, while a few miles to my right, I could see the lighthouse — my companion when night fell. How often we engaged in conversation... I would ramble on about my own affairs, and, after listening silently for ten seconds, it would send me three white flashes to signal agreement.

  When days were warm, I would sit outside on the veranda — a spacious one, marble columned, with a beautiful view of the sea. If you leaned over the railing, you could see the sea beneath; so close that, if you stretched out your hand, you could caress the foam of the small waves, which had slowly worn away the massive rocks the house perched upon. The veranda soon became my best friend, as it was the only place where I didn’t feel estranged.

  Having exhausted the classics, I began to replace them with real people; people my own age, who may not have been around the world in eighty days, or were totally ignorant of Pip and Dorian Gray, but played football, hide-and-seek and chase. A few years later, having gained our parents’ permission to cover the distance on our bicycles, we would gather on the veranda and talk, play and, at the same time, grow up.

  As we grew up, I began to realise that the games we played in our childhood would also be acted out in adulthood, albeit in different ways. So, in hide-and-seek, we no longer searched for a hideout, but for our hidden feelings and thoughts. In the game of chase, we wouldn’t run to evade capture, but to escape our problems and ourselves.

  Such were the games we would later play with Michalis, Thanos and Natalia. The two boys had grown up together, though I only met them towards the end of primary school when I changed classes — my desk next to theirs. Every morning we talked incessantly, hanging our gossip as if to dry like linen on the line, trying to hide it from the teacher, who lay in ambush like a wicked laundry thief.

  Natalia was the Jane Austen of the company. A year our junior, she was our protégé, and, in return for our protection, she would give us advice about other girls. Natalia was a wild animal only time could tame, but though she seemed to be a tiger, inside her there was something of the cat’s wise charm. That’s why her advice was always right.

  It was Natalia who became my advisor when Ellie arrived in our lives. Only Thanos had known her before, as their parents were friends. They were moving to our town thanks to her father’s transfer — as a bank manager — and, eventually, they would rent the flat on our first floor.

  I was fifteen, and that was the first time it had ever dawned on me that nothing in life is random.

  2

  She was a tall, slender girl with long, black, straight hair. Her eyes were black, too, and the glance emerging from their depth was expressive and inquisitive. Elegant and charming, she stole my heart from the word go.

  «So, let’s go see the flat», said my aunt and stood bolt upright, after she had offered them coffee and biscuits made by Natalia.

  We all followed her to the first floor. She unlocked and we stepped into a sunny flat that had nothing to do with the other filthy flats in town, as Ellie’s mother said. We opened all the windows and cool, fresh air filled the room.

  While the two women were viewing the rooms, Natalia, Ellie and I stood in the hall, trying to break the ice. Then, no sooner had we uttered a word when Aunt’s voice interrupted us.

  «Natalia, can you, please, go upstairs to fetch the measuring tape?»

  Natalia looked at us somewhat apologetically and went upstairs.

  Ellie eyed me uncomfortably.

  «It’s measuring time...»

  When I signalled incomprehension, she continued:

  «We’ve got a huge fridge and she wants to make sure it can fit in the kitchen. She’s already rejected three flats because there wasn’t enough room.»

  I smiled and, both finding nothing to contribute to the discussion, we stuck fast in the bitter honey of embarrassment.

  «You know, Thanos has praised everyone here, but he thinks the world of you. I think he admires you, more than anyone else.»

  I smiled but, once again, I said nothing. There were thousands of things I could say, but not even one sprang from my mouth. I avoided — and I still do — thinking what a wet blanket she must have taken me for.

  «Anyway, even if we don’t rent the flat, I need new friends no
w that we’re moving in town, so I guess we’ll be in touch quite often.»

  I didn’t know if she was expecting an answer, but I didn’t return one. All she got were a few furtive glances and two awkward smiles. I was generous, God forbid!

  Fortunately, Natalia didn’t take long to appear. She passed by, measuring tape in hand, and came back to us two minutes later to announce the good news.

  «If I’m not mistaken, you’re going to rent the flat.»

  «Oh, it seems there’s room for the fridge», Ellie joked smilingly.

  I responded to her joke, but Natalia gave us a look of incomprehension, until I put her in the picture.

  We were all taken aback when the fridge arrived. It was really huge, a closet equipped with a cooling mechanism. It was a wedding present for her parents from Ellie’s uncle. It was a sixteen-year-old fridge, but ran like clockwork. It had become a family member as it accommodated a whole month’s bulk of bread. They just couldn’t part with it.

  To gauge its size, each of us in turn climbed inside, with the exception of Thanos, who was obviously scared, but artfully claimed we were all too old for such nonsense.

  Armed with the certainty that time affords, I dare now say that I owe the whole journey of my life to that fridge…

  3

  As days went by, I began to realise I was infatuated with Ellie. It was the first time I had ever felt this way. I know I was clumsy by nature, but she was gorgeous and such a delight. Sparks flew everywhere.

  When she met Michalis, I couldn’t help but be jealous. I knew he had a way with girls. No matter what Dickens had told me about Estella, or Jane Austen about Elisabeth, I didn’t feel strong enough to claim Ellie’s castle. Imagining I’d been born a loser, I gave up from the start.

  The first time we were all together, at the house by the sea, and Michalis offered to show her around, I sat paralysed, facing her puzzled look. Jealousy mixed with shame and diluted with drops of cowardliness. No matter how bitter the mixture became, I swallowed it.

  What’s coming will come, and we’ll meet it when it does, I thought. I survived on this one thought alone.

  Thankfully, I would see her quite often, as she came up to our flat and sat in Natalia’s room for hours on end. While the two friends chatted, and though I knew she was there, I always pretended to be surprised to see her. More often than not, they would ask me to stay with them, which I always did, except for the times when I acted tough, pretending to be busy. It was then that we got to know each other better. It was then that I noticed our eyes locked much too often with each other’s.

  One day, needing to return a book to the library, I found myself at the counter before the sombre Head Librarian. I had given him the book I was returning, along with my library card, and he looked over the lending registry, without uttering a single word.

  Observing him, I couldn’t keep myself from laughing. His movements were slow, a snail’s pace, as though he wanted to fill the empty time he had to spend in there. He wouldn’t go straight to the date written on the lending card. He began by minutely checking the records of the previous fifteen days, moving his finger down one line a minute, until he reached the correct date. Then, he opened up his drawer, took out a pen, slowly jotted down what he had to, put the pen back in the drawer, shut it, cast an eye over what he’d written — lest he find a terrible mistake — and when he had ascertained that he’d averted the destruction of the world, he gave me back the card.

  I barely restrained myself from laughter, when he looked at me through his thick shortsighted glasses and fluttered his eyes, which were ready to flee.

  «We are okay.»

  I am, but I wouldn’t bet you are, I thought. I took back my ID and went in search of another book, despite knowing that registering a new one would be even more time-consuming, since he had to record both its title and the borrower’s name.

  First, I walked past the Classic Literature section, bypassed the Historical Novels, and stopped before the Recent Editions.

  Leafing through the only book that caught my eye, I heard a voice whispering to me.

  «Can I help you?»

  «Ellie!» I exclaimed. «What are you doing here?»

  «Well, since I laze about all day until school term begins, I thought I’d drop by to get a book», she answered under her breath.

  I glimpsed the title of the book in her hands. In Sky’s Embrace. The author’s name was unfamiliar to me. «Have you heard any good reviews about it?»

  «No, but I like the title.»

  «Hmm, don’t set great store by nice titles. They use them as a lure to entrap you. The same holds for good-looking covers.»

  «So, I’m in a trap?»

  «Most probably.»

  On the one hand, she was smiling and on the other, she was looking at the book, wondering what she should do. In the end, she decided to keep it. «That spares me the trouble of putting it back on the shelf. I don’t even remember where it was.»

  «OK then. But, just to know, once you’ve met the man in charge here, you’ll regret not putting it back.»

  «Why’s that?»

  I spoke no more and led her to the bespectacled man.

  After filling in her card, she handed it to him along with the book. He raised his eyes, dragged them all the way to Ellie, moved his hand — which had been hanging aloft — grabbed the lending registry, opened it, leafed through it page by page till he found the correct one, opened the drawer, took up his pen and began writing. He then put the pen back in the drawer, shut it, took the book — extending his hand to Ellie — and tortured me once again by staring at me with his big, fly-like eyes.

  «Are you going to borrow another book?» he asked me.

  «No, I’ve been invited to dinner tonight and I don’t want to miss it», I replied, certain he wouldn’t fathom my irony.

  «You can keep the book for a fortnight.»

  «Yes, I know. Some other time. Thank you», I responded and ran towards the exit with Ellie.

  As soon as we got out the building, we collapsed in stitches. We agreed to borrow books on a regular basis, though we wouldn’t read them, simply to revel in that man’s one-act play.

  We strolled around town talking, as we followed the route leading to its greatest attractions. We discussed many topics: her life before moving to town, her previous school, and the friends she had left behind, Thanos, Michalis, the family that was raising me, the house by the sea and so many other things that I couldn’t retain them in my memory. After all, while she was speaking, I was engrossed more in her beauty rather than her words.

  I may have been wet behind the ears — most of my experiences being limited to various authors’ artful descriptions — but I could see there was something between us. A special kind of chemistry, which was undeniably mutual.

  «I’m having such a great time with you», I suddenly heard myself saying.

  She didn’t say anything in return. She simply embraced me.

  I wondered if the moment was powerful enough for a kiss. I weighed up the situation, but finally hesitated. My fiery thought reduced to ashes in my mind, like a cigarette dying in a hiss of water.

  Our embrace didn’t last long. After all, all beautiful moments should last only for a moment, so their spark may not exhaust itself, as Ellie would later tell me.

  After parting, we sat on a bench overlooking the sea. Though we were side by side, silence divided us.

  «You haven’t talked to me about your parents. Where are they?» she asked hesitantly. Seeing the clouds forming over my face, she rushed to open up a patch of sunshine. «If you want to tell me, of course...»

  I gave her an acquiescent look.

  «Well, I don’t have anything specific to tell you. Your guess is as good as mine.»

  «What do you mean?»

  She knew what I meant; she was putting on an act. She would confess as much later on. She had asked Natalia the same question. However, the answer she had received — about the secret t
hat only Aunt Urania knew — had seemed so unbelievable that she resolved to ask me as well.

  «Do you miss them?»

  «Miss them? Not really... I don’t know if you can miss two people you never met. What I miss is the truth about what became of them. If I knew they were alive, I would look for them. If I knew they were dead, I would light a candle. Yet, my aunt won’t tell me a single thing.»

  «And the only thing you have from them is the house by the sea?»

  «And a bank account where my aunt deposits money into each month. It’s for my future, she says.»

  «Why don’t you go and live in that house?»

  «On my own? I can’t. Not until I finish school. But when I turn eighteen, I’ll definitely do it. I’ve set my heart on it», I said, brooking no other comments.

  We were still seated on the bench, looking at the ships. There must have been twenty of them moored in port that day. Dozens of dockers and boats went to and fro, anchors dipped in and out, and seagulls squawked as if they were overseeing the whole operation.

  «I wonder how many voyages those ships have made...,» she said.

  I nodded my head to show I shared the same thought. «It’s crossed my mind to become a captain. You go on many voyages, you get to explore other civilisations, you meet people who have strange and amazing stories to tell... Unless Karkavitsas was wrong in his descriptions of the seafaring life.»

  That was always my fear, that perhaps books would lead me astray, teaching me about a life that didn’t match reality.

  «And I could be working in a consulate in a distant port, where you would come to have your passport sealed. And, after you sailed away, I would count the weeks till your ship sailed into view again.»

  The attraction I’d felt before was still there, in flesh and bone. I could see it before my eyes, like a chemical reaction causing combustion in a test tube.

  We came closer to each other and I felt her wild heartbeat. Or was it mine? Or could it be that our hearts had fused and now beat as one? It didn’t take us long to touch each other’s lips and taste our first kiss, a taste that left me drunk.