by Sewell, Ron
She dried her hair, closed her eyes and reflected on long-ago. An image filled her mind before coming into focus: the face of her mother, smiling and serene. She had returned to her childhood, awakening memories of her loss.
Maria wiped her eyes and dressed. In a whisper, she said, “He’s a good man, mama, and takes care of me.”
“Maria, who are you talking to?”
“My mama. I usually talk to her when I visit her grave.”
“Do you miss her?”
“I never really knew her. Every now and then I feel close and need to say something.”
“We’d better make a move.”
Chapter Seventeen
Bear stared out of the kitchen window. The wind from the mountains splattered the constant rain against the glass. With the huge lunch prepared by Elini over, he became bored. The wet weather made the thought of a walk out of the question. Instead, he sat at the end of the table playing clock patience with a dog-eared pack of playing cards.
The main door opened and he lifted his head. With water from his coat dripping onto the floor, Maria’s brother Takis entered. “My friend, where is Petros?”
“I’m not sure. He went to see the bishop with your sister and afterwards to Police for lunch.”
Takis laughed. “You mean Polis. Forget those two. I doubt if they’ll be back tonight. Knowing my sister, she’ll have other thoughts.” He paused. “Bear, I’ve an idea which might help us get the icons out of Varosha.”
Elini produced two steaming cups of coffee. “Takis, if you walk into my house again with muddy boots, you will scrub my floor.”
“Aunt Elini, forgive me.”
“I forgave you the day you were born to my sister.”
Bear sipped his coffee and waited for her to leave.
“Takis, are you telling me there’s another way?”
“Yes. My friend Alexis and I have never mentioned our secret to anyone. You must promise not to tell.”
He raised his right hand. “Scout’s honour. Where is this place?”
“Come, I will take you.”
Bear grabbed his anorak from a hook beside the door. “Aunt Elini, I’m going out with Takis for a few hours.”
“Be careful.”
Takis drove for an hour and a half in the pouring rain moving from good roads to the paved driveway of Alexis Epiphaniou’s estate.
Bear stared through the windscreen at a large rambling house surrounded by manicured lawns. “Where are we?”
“It’s the house of my friend Alexis. I’ve spoken to him. He agreed that you may enter the tunnel.”
The rain had stopped and the sky in the west showed a glimmer of light.
“Come, let’s go.”
The two men walked across the grass, their feet leaving two rows of neat impressions. Bear followed Takis towards a well.
Takis pointed. “There is the way into Famagusta and the way out.”
Bear was impressed with the possibility. “Safer and easier. Come on, let’s take a gander.”
“What is a gander?”
“A shufti, look-see.”
“Ah, I understand.” His head disappeared beneath the parapet. Bear lowered himself and waited while Takis started the generator. When the lights came on he couldn’t believe the length of the tunnel.
“Holy shit, how far does this go?”
“A long way.”
Bear turned. “And that way?”
“Not far, about two hundred metres. It’s collapsed so we haven’t bothered clearing the rubbish. Follow me. It’s safe.”
They went along the tunnel chatting until reaching the sump. With open mouth Bear stared at a metal bridge and the statues supporting the roof.
“Where to now?”
“This way,” said Takis, as he strolled across the sump. He stopped at the bottom of steep steps. “I think this might be the way.” With bear following, he climbed until they reached the blockage.
“This doesn’t make any sense, Takis. Why this way?”
“You’d think this was a dead end, but come close and tell me what are you aware of?”
With a bewildered expression, Bear positioned himself next to the rocks. He shifted his hand across the debris, stopped, changed direction, stopped and returned to the beginning. “An air current.”
Takis laughed. “When the wind blows from the east, it’s strong. To find out what’s on the other side we must remove this,” he said.
“Why are we standing here doing nothing? This could be a link to the outside world,” said Bear. “We’ll need a large crowbar though, to dislodge these boulders.”
“I have one. I’ll go find it and another lamp.”
Bear pushed and pulled at the rocks. None moved. Takis returned and they began the slow, painstaking work. They discovered their thoughts were incorrect. The debris went on and on, the draught did not change. After levering a huge stone from its position both men stood in disbelief. An opening the size of a man’s fist appeared. A gentle breeze of fresh air wafted over them.
Takis shone his torch through but the beam was weak. “We need more lights up here. Torches are well and good for clearing.”
Bear nodded. “Good idea. I’ll keep at it.”
Takis vanished, his footsteps echoing in the dark as he descended.
Bear stood back and studied the boulders. One appeared to be the key. He slammed the crow into the crack, heaved, grunted and levered the stone. “Move, you bastard,” he shouted. He altered the position of his feet, took a firmer stance, and breathed deeply. By using his strength and good leverage the bar bowed. The rock shifted with a grinding sound, slid and bounced away into the dark. Bear fell back against the wall. The debris groaned and creaked, and pebbles rattled past him. “Shit,” he shouted moments before flinging himself flat onto the stairs nearest the wall and shielding his head with his arms. An avalanche of debris tumbled across him, slashing and smashing. Thick dust filled the air making breathing painful. His fingers clung to the steps as his head spun.
The noised dimmed and a fog killed the light.
“Bear, Bear are you all right?” He heard the words as a cool sensation covered his face.
“Bear, say something.”
Bear cranked open his eyes and in the gloom saw Takis.
“Thank Christ, you’re alive. Why didn’t you wait? Stay still while I examine the gashes on your head.”
Bear coughed, cleared his throat, spat a chunk of phlegm and dust to the floor. “That’s better.” He blew through his nostrils ridding himself of more rubbish. “Helps when you can breathe.”
“The noise and rush of filth rolling from the stairs scared the hell out of me.”
“It didn’t do much for my sense of humour. Give me the cloth and a hand.” He wiped his face and blew his nose before discarding the rag.
With caution, they clambered up the rock-strewn stairway. Bear shone the beam from a halogen lamp and stared through a dressed stone opening.
“Takis, we’re going no further until we have better lighting.”
They descended and between them dragged lights and cables to the opening. With the entrance clear, Bear switched on a floodlight. The white glare determined a cube-shaped space hewn from the sandstone. Two walls had three niches cut into them. In every other way it was empty.
“The air’s fresh,” said Bear.
They wandered into the room, the lights casting murky shadows.
“Another doorway,” said Takis.
Holding the lamp high above his head, Bear walked towards the opening. In front of him narrow passages led away in a jumble of directions. “We stay out of there until we install lighting and discover a way back. That’s a catacomb or labyrinth. Very dangerous to the naive.”
They retraced their steps to find when they reached the surface that sunset had come and gone.
“What do we do now, Bear?”
“Your idea of the tunnels giving us an easier escape route is fine, providing we can find a way.
Be careful, Takis, never go into a maze on your own.”
* * *
Maria drew the truck drew up to Aunt Elini’s and stopped.
“Mama and Bear. Do you know where they are, Aunt Elini?” Maria asked.
“Bear disappeared an hour ago with your brother Takis. That man never stops eating but I like him. And your mama is out visiting.”
Seduced by the fragrant smell of fresh coffee, Petros sat at the table while Maria cuddled and made a fuss of Alysa.
Petros’s mouth opened wide when Bear entered. “What the hell happened to you?”
Maria frowned. “Please mind your language in front of Alysa.”
The two men looked at Maria.
“I’ve found another way into Varosha.”
“What,” said Petros. “You can’t be serious.”
Bear explained about the tunnels and what he and Takis had uncovered.
“We’ll need to check it out but it has possibilities.”
“Tomorrow, first thing we’ll go and speak with this man Alexis.”
* * *
Washed and changed, Bear sat at the kitchen table while Elini dabbed antiseptic on the multitude of abrasions on his hands and face. “Doubt if you’ll win a beauty contest for a while.”
“Not much chance of that without the cuts and bruises.”
“Jocelyn might say different.”
Bear nodded as if approving Elini’s comment. “Maybe so, but she’s biased.”
Elini’s power over her house radiated from the kitchen. From here she governed, many said, with an iron fist in a velvet glove. Every time Bear flinched, she chuckled.
“Supper’s nearly ready and if I understand men you’ll be much better after a glass or two of brandy. I’ve finished. Don’t touch.”
The meal over, Elini rested in her chair to watch television. She translated the news for Bear.
The picture changed to the Kouris Dam, the largest of the Cyprus reservoirs. The glamorous blonde-haired presenter appeared concerned as she informed the viewers that in two months nearly half a metre of rain had fallen. It showed the spillway full of water tumbling towards the flowing river. A reporter on the scene remarked on the constant downpour and the problems with overflowing dams. The camera operator zoomed in on the run off from the dam, which flowed along an overgrown riverbed. Where the river passed under a road bridge the build-up of debris forced it to find another route across open fields.
“That’s not news. Take a peek out of the window,” said Bear. “It’s rained every day since we arrived.”
“Be quiet,” said Elini. “This is important for our island.”
The newscast went on to show rivers fed by the melting snow in spring and other streams with their banks overflowing.
“Our island always needs water,” said Elini again. “The crops will have plenty next year.”
“There appears to be a problem with the dam,” said Bear.
The screen displayed images of men in bright yellow raincoats, and a JCB placing wire mesh containers filled with small rocks on top of the earthworks. The newscaster reported that a ministry spokesperson had stated that these works were of a precautionary nature and the Riparian Drain Pipe was now fully open. This will reduce the water level,” he said. The news went on to show the horror of landslides in Turkey and flooding in the Nile Delta.
Chapter Eighteen
Takis dashed into Alexis Epiphaniou’s main office, shaking the rain from his coat.
Alexis stopped writing and raised his head. “Good morning, Takis. What brings you here?”
Takis sat in the metal-framed chair. In a calm voice, he described the new tunnels and handed over a rough map.
“You say you found an empty room. Why didn’t you investigate further?”
“What? Without the proper equipment to mark our return, no way. I’ve been told stories of people getting lost in similar places.”
Alexis snorted. “You young people have no sense of adventure. This afternoon I’ll go myself. Come with me if you want.”
Takis hesitated. “Sorry, Alexis, but I have other matters to attend to. In a few days I’ll be free.”
“No matter. I’m old enough to take care of myself. I’ve been into those tunnels a thousand times.”
“Please be careful.” Takis left, knowing Alexis would enter the maze at the top of the stairs.
* * *
Nitsa picked up the telephone and dialled her favourite number. “Pavlo’s Electrics – can I help you?”
“I need to see you right away,” said Nitsa. “It’s of the utmost importance.”
“Can’t it wait? I’m busy.”
“If you’re that busy, I’ll find someone else to make me happy.”
Pavlo let out a deep sigh. “Nitsa, I’ll arrive in an hour. What’s the problem?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here.” The line went dead.
Pavlo drove along the sea front in Paphos complaining to himself on the subject of women in general. The sky, cloaked in a mass of storm clouds, threatened more rain. Those tourists wandering along the road in their raincoats looked dismal. Pavlo chuckled to himself. “That’ll teach the bishops to pray for rain.”
Another violent squall swept across the harbour, dumping its deluge and forcing everyone to run for cover. It lasted for a mere ten minutes but it turned streets into rivers of dirty brown water.
Pavlo parked his van a short distance away from the bishop’s house. He wandered to the back and rapped on the door. It remained closed so he banged hard, twice.
He stared up at the sky; another cloudburst was imminent. Nitsa opened the door at the same time the downpour began.
“What’s the rush,” said Pavlo. “I’ve customers waiting.”
“Forget your penny-pinching customers,” said Nitsa as she dragged him into the hall. “This is our chance to get our hands on real money. Remember the icons the bishop hid? Well, he has arranged for a man to retrieve them. We’d be fools not to benefit from this.”
The bishop walked into the kitchen. “Nitsa, do we have a problem?”
“The sink is blocked. Pavlo is here to fix it.”
“I’m off to Nicosia to visit the Archbishop. Do not make dinner.”
“Very well. I’ll pay his bill out of the housekeeping.”
The two said nothing but waited until the bishop’s car drove away.
“So what happens now?”
“Tomorrow we drive to the north, tell the authorities and collect a reward.”
“How much do you think they’ll pay?”
“Enough. We can get away and start a new life.”
Pavlo started to edge Nitsa towards the large wooden table in the centre of the kitchen.
“Careful, Pavlo.”
Her backside touched the edge of the table and her dress tightened across her thighs. “Don’t say a word. Your eyes tell me what you want.”
“It’s the thought of the money.”
Pavlo lifted her onto the table and kissed her, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth. She squirmed as it sent multiple waves of sensual stimulation through her body.
With his free hand, he lifted her dress and removed her white panties. She lay back, wrapped her legs tight around him, and waited for the pleasure, the pain. With muted moans, she shut her eyes and listened to his groans grow in intensity.
* * *
When Zena returned from visiting other relations, she found Elini staring at the television
“Shush,” said Elini.
Zena sat next to her. The picture showed men and JCBs working in the pouring rain attempting to dislodge a tree. An orange-coated official pushed the gathering of film crews and journalists back. The camera zoomed in on what appeared to be a tree with water surging around and over it.
“From local records,” said the reporter, “the British army constructed this recharge dam one hundred years ago. Unused and overgrown it became neglected.”
The reporter fell silent. Water no
w lapped the top of the wire cages and cascaded over the tree forming a waterfall of huge proportions. The reservoir had expanded its boundaries past its design parameters. The men with the JCBs backed away from the side of the spillway nearest the earthworks as they washed away. Dark cloud covered the sky as another cloudburst wreaked havoc on the sodden land.
The picture faded and returned, but everyone’s eyes focused on the downstream slope. The spillway, in part blocked, had become the run off. Water swirled and cut into the bank removing large slabs of red earth. With every passing minute the situation deteriorated. The camera swung towards two men dressed in army fatigues. They approached the dam but then retreated. A few minutes later they returned carrying a container, and with caution edged their way to where the tree blocked the spillway. One man slipped, fell into the torrent and disappeared. The other withdrew to his vehicle and raised the alarm.
“This is boring,” said Zena. She glanced at the kitchen clock. “Fancy a cup of tea, Aunt Elini?”
Elini nodded, not taking her eyes off the screen.
The drama continued. The unfortunate workman who had fallen into the spillway, escaped serious injury. Luckily for him the force of the water washed him onto the muddy bank. The man dragged himself out, stood and staggered back to his truck.
One of the wire mesh cages appeared to float and topple over the front of the dam. A wall of dark water surged through the opening, dragging the other cages with it. The weakened earthworks surrendered to the pummelling, and large chunks of debris joined the conflict.
The volume of water became an uninhibited chain saw cutting and destroying everything in its path. A spiral of wild, dark liquid rose into the air combining with its partner the rain, before it tumbled with a thunderous roar into the river bed.
Elini watched in awe as the scene returned to the television studio where a team of experts were assessing the damage. The general opinion appeared to be that although a natural flood plain, the locale being scarcely populated, minimal damage would result.
* * *