by Kahn, Denise
That same day, King George of the Hellenes, his family, and several Ministers who had been evacuated from Athens to Crete, were evacuated once more. They left the island and headed toward Egypt as well. Thanks to the explosion and the pursuit of the politicians and Royals, the crew of the little boat had a better chance of passing undetected.
The next two days were calm. They weren’t bothered by any patrols, the weather was good and the old little boat kept grinding along, yet it was nerve wracking.
“How far to Alexandria?” Aleko asked the Captain.
“One more night. Tomorrow we should be there. Hopefully her heart will hold up for one last journey.”
“Captain,” Nico said, “look at the sky. Are we getting bad wheather?”
The fisherman nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. Tell everybody to tie everything down, we’re getting a meltemi, an Aegean storm,” he said, swearing under his breath. The men swiftly followed the orders and then waited.
True to his prediction, the darkness of the night descended on them very quickly, and then the sky let its ominous black clouds explode over them. They churned up the wind and made the little boat dance uncontrollably. The waves became bigger, smashed into them and made them bounce around as if they were in an abandoned dinghy. The captain held on to the wheel with every muscle in his body, barely controlling the boat. Another wave hit them head on so hard that it smashed the glass of the bridge in front of him. The windshield exploded into pieces. Nico screamed as he witnessed the seaman go down with a large triangular shard sticking out of his throat. He yelled for the doctor and ran to the small wheelhouse. They arrived together and found the captain on the floor. Nico watched the doctor who was trying to stop the bleeding. He grimaced back at Nico. The prognosis was not good. Nico grabbed the wheel and held it as best he could. He followed the compass and prayed as he never had before. The doctor looked up at him. He shook his head. Nico swore. The fisherman was dead.
The men held on through the long hours of the night. They were constantly thrown in every direction possible, whipped by an invisible giant hand that kept punishing them, battering them over and over incessantly. Nico thought this would be his last moments. He kept forcing himself to think that they would survive, that they wouldn’t let their country or their families down, that they would succeed. They must succeed! He kept repeating to himself again and again. They had a responsibility to fulfill, and by God, he swore, nothing would stop them. He said prayers to all the Gods, all the Saints he could remember. He dug deep into his memory to remember all the deities from all the books he had read. He prayed to Kali and Vishnu, to Buddha and Quan Yin, to Allah and Mohammed and even to Athena, Apollo and Poseidon—especially Poseidon.
By morning the storm subsided and the men were amazed they were still afloat and in one piece. Nico smiled and looked at the baby-blue sky and thanked all the Masters he had prayed to. For one who was not the most religious of humans Nico thought that he had done pretty well. The little boat was still afloat and wheezing along, perhaps in a final sacrifice for the master who had perished.
They gave their compatriot a burial at sea and a few hours later they entered into the port of Alexandria. They were exhausted, hungry, badly battered, yet grateful to be alive. No one bothered them. They had seen the black flag.
♫
CHAPTER 30
Rebeka quietly slipped out of bed. She did not want to wake Melina. She quickly dressed, went downstairs to the kitchen, drank a glass of water and looked out the window. The thorny bush was standing at attention, another ally in this insane war, an ally that had saved her life more than once. It was the first time since arriving at the Malandros household that Rebeka wasn’t somebody’s shadow. She never took a step without one of the family by her side. It was as if she didn’t exist after her parents’ deportation. The Malandros had been good to her, even more than that, they had put their lives on the line, time and time again, but it was time to move on and she knew it wasn’t safe for any of them for much longer. The Germans were constantly looking for Nico and that damned SS Major had taken a liking to Melina and would appear seemingly out of nowhere, and Rebeka was constantly diving through the kitchen window. She smiled, though, remembering how furious her friend had been at the prospect of him courting her. He even sent a basket of fruit and Melina was ready to throw it away. “Who does he think he is, that pompous, mean, disgusting, torturing Nazi!” She had yelled. Her mother stopped her at the last minute and convinced her that even though her German had sent it, it would be a shame if the last rodents in Athens had a feast. The family ate it hungrily, but Melina never touched a morsel.
Rebeka’s fear became greater by the day, and she didn’t want to put the family in grave danger any more than necessary. It would only be a matter of time, she was sure, before they found out about her. They would deport her on those dreadful trains that took them into the horizons of hell and the family who had kept her safe for so many months would be executed on the spot for harboring a Jew.
She looked at the loaf of bread that lay on the kitchen counter. Her mouth watered. Times were really hard now. Food was practically non-existent, but the family always had a little something to keep them alive. This bread probably came from a barter, a trade for a beautiful antique or an exquisite piece of jewelry. She looked around and noticed how bare the house had become. They had sold off most of their possessions for a little oil, a few olives, anything that would sustain them. They had been so wealthy, one of the leading Athenian families and now they had nothing. No, Rebeka thought, they still had each other and the immense love for one another—that could never be taken away, and even in these difficult times the Malandros were gracious and noble. Rebeka did not take any of the bread, instead she brought her fingers to her lips, kissed them and touched the loaf. She took a knife and wrote three letters in the crust: TYR. May you keep this family alive and safe and Mister Nico too, wherever he is, Rebeka prayed. She jumped when Monsieur Chat rubbed himself against her leg. She picked him up and hugged him. “Thanks for keeping me company all this time, and thank you for keeping my feet warm at night,” she whispered to the cat. “Now go back to Melina and keep her warm.” He caressed her with his head and purred as if understanding. She put him down and watched him disappear up the stairs to Melina’s room. “I’m pretty sure you can understand me, Monsieur Chat, so please tell the family and especially Melina, how grateful I am and how much I love them. Maybe one day I’ll be back.”
She took one last look at the house that had been her haven for so many months and disappeared into the night.
Rebeka cautiously walked through dark alleys and stayed very close to the walls of the houses. Her stomach twisted into knots and she sometimes forgot to breath. She could feel the bile creeping up into her throat from the fear. Every sound felt like a dagger and she imagined a thousand eyes watching her. As careful as she was trying to be, she never saw the arm that grabbed her from inside a doorway and the hand that covered her mouth. The fear bulged out of her eyes, her legs turned to jelly and her heart stopped. She tried to scream, but the hand muffled any of her attempts.
“Be quiet! I’m not going to hurt you,” the man whispered defensively. She looked at him. He was young and strong, with big brown eyes and a thick mustache. “You won’t scream?” He asked her. Rebeka shook her head and he carefully removed his hand from her mouth. She stared at him. “What are you doing out here? Don’t you know there’s a curfew?” Rebeka didn’t answer. “Are you Jewish?”
“I’m Greek,” she answered.
“I’m Costas,” he said. “Come with me, you’ll be safe.” Rebeka just stood there, not really knowing what to do. “Trust me, really,” he said, gently giving her his hand. She did, and hand in hand they made their way out of Athens and to a camp outside the city.
The people at the camp saw Costa and welcomed him with open arms, and Rebeka too. They sat around a campfire and then her eyes flew open. They were roasting a lamb and the sweet, smoky
smell almost made her faint. Bread, olives, cheese and fruit were everywhere. She hadn’t seen so much food for a very long time. She remembered Valentina’s wonderful elegant fish dinner. That had been her last sumptuous repast. This one was just as glorious, just very rustic. Tears glided down her cheeks. How she wished she could take some of it back to the Malandros in Athens.
“Come! Sit and eat! You look awfully thin,” a burly man said, beckoning her to the fire. “It is not always we have an abundance of food like this. You chose a perfect night to bring a friend, Costa. Come now, sit down you two,” he coaxed them. “But remember, eat slowly or your body will rebel against you,” he said boisterously. They even had wine.
Rebeka was introduced to some of the fighters and leaders of the Greek Resistance.
♫
CHAPTER 31
Nico sat at a little café, sipped coffee, nibbled away at a pastry and watched the hospital. A drop of sweat slid down his back. Was there really an Ali, Sela’s childhood friend whose stories he remembered her talking about? Was he still a doctor? Was he even alive? Had Nico brought them through hell trying to get to Alexandria? And was it just a crazy idea and a foolish last hope? He mulled over his apprehensions when a half hour later, a tall, older, distinguished Arab man walked out. Nico’s heart skipped a beat. There he was! He did exist and was very much alive.
He left the café and followed him for several blocks. When he turned into a small alley he grabbed the man from behind, covered his mouth and held him. “Don’t make a sound, I am not here to hurt you. I am a friend.” Still covering the man’s mouth Nico let him slowly turn around and then removed his hand. The two faced each other without speaking but their eyes were questioning. Nico spoke first: “I am Nicolaos Malandros.”
The man gasped. “Valentina’s husband?”
Nico grinned. “And you are definitely Doctor Ali. I recognized you from the photo on Sela’s piano.”
“That I am. How are they? How is Sela?” Nico immediately detected the softness in Ali’s eyes at the mention of his mother-in-law.
“When I left them they were fine and Sela was her usual spitfire self.”
Ali laughed. “I don’t doubt that a bit. But tell me, what is going on? Why are you here and why in the name of Allah do you smell like death?”
“It’s quite a story. Is there someplace safe we can talk?”
“Yes, follow me.” They came upon the old Vidalis mansion. Ali still lived there, still loved it, and always remembered every sentimental moment. The villa was as beautiful as ever. “Come around the back and meet me in the tool shed.” Nico nodded and watched the street as Ali went into his home. A few minutes later Nico joined him.
“Here, I brought you some bread and figs, that’s all I could find,” Ali said, handing him the food.
“In addition to being a great doctor, you must be somewhat psychic. Thank you.”
Ali grinned. “I don’t know about any of that, but logically you must be hungry.”
“Starving…”
“Tell me, how is my beautiful Goddaughter?”
“Ah, my little nightingale. Oh, Ali, she is the best. She is the smile in my heart and more beautiful with each passing day. She is the most incredible woman I know…”
Ali laughed. “I’m almost sorry I asked.”
“I’m sorry, I got carried away. I miss her so very much.”
“Don’t apologize. It is wonderful to see a man so in love.”
“Yes, she truly is my life, Ali. If anything ever happened to her…”
“Don’t be silly, she’s is smart, that one.”
“That she is,” Nico said and sighed, “that she is. And what about your family?”
“My wife died two years ago, a bad heart you know. I have two wonderful sons. One of them, Gibril, is a doctor and works at the hospital with me. The other is in development who at this moment is in the desert, with some old Bedouin friends.” Ali thought back to the first time he was introduced to Badr and his sick wife. “He tries to make their lives a little easier and modern. If you ask me, that’s an impossible task. And what about Sela?” Ali asked, almost nonchalantly. He had been dying to find out. He would never forget his first and only true love.
“Oh, little Mozart is fine. Still plays the piano night and day and the wisest grand lady I know.”
“Did she ever marry again?” Ali asked apprehensively.
“Heavens no, that one is much too independent and loves her life just the way it is. I think she is just happy being by her family and of course she has her music.”
“And the Song vase?”
“Still with us, and majestically standing on the piano surrounded by photos and Sela’s playing.”
“Good. That’s the way it should be. Sela, the music and the vase must always be one. Now, tell me what brings you here and why do you smell like the morgue in my hospital.”
By dawn they had devised a plan.
“I will meet you at the port with the truck. Be ready,” Ali said.
“We will be.”
They left the villa and took off in different directions. Ali headed to the hospital and Nico went back to the boat. He told the group of the plan. Aleko was skeptical. “Can we trust them?” He asked.
“As much as we can trust anybody in this war. Besides, what choice do we have?” Nico answered.
“Alright.” He looked at the others. They nodded in agreement.
Less than an hour later Ali drove up to the boat in the port. Three men emerged from the truck. Aleko whistled in bewilderment at the vehicle. “Now, that’s a sight to behold.” The others looked at the mortuary truck. It was very dark green, almost black, sported a red crescent and the hospital logo on all sides. It was a mean, ominous and repulsive looking vehicle that reeked of death.
“That’s a monster baby!” Nico said.
“Even I would think twice about stopping that thing,” the Greek doctor said.
“Doctor,” Nico said, let me introduce you to Doctor Ali.” The men shook hands.
Ali, in turn, introduced his own team. “This is Doctor Gibril, who is also my son, and Doctor Mohammed, my assistant.” They introduced themselves and then Ali placed a sign in front of the truck so that they wouldn’t be disturbed—it held a warning that the boat was contaminated with disease.
Gibril went into the truck and brought out a medical smock and fresh bandanas for each of them. The decomposition was brutal. The bodies had to either be buried immediately or burned. The men were having a difficult time with the smell. It was so intense that they kept inhaling smelling salts. They put on the medical coats, wrapped the cloths around their faces and started removing the bodies. One by one they were placed in body bags provided by Ali and lifted into the truck.
Two German soldiers, who were patrolling the port, came a little too close for Aleko’s comfort. He watched them carefully, his hand on the knife handle in his belt. They came closer still, but when the stench hit them they stopped, and when they saw the dead bodies they started gagging. They turned away, covering their mouths and nose. Aleko took his hand off of the knife. The others, who had been watching, sighed with relief and continued their morbid task.
“Alright, we are finished. Let’s go,” Ali said. He turned to his assistant. “Mohammed, take over at the hospital, Gibril will come with me. We leave right now.”
“But Doctor…” Mohammed stammered. Running the hospital was an overwhelming task. It seemed that patients, of all nationalities, were continuously pouring in to get healed, especially war wounded.
“With a name like yours, you can only succeed. You’ll be fine.” Nico said.
Doctor Mohammed forgot his problems for a moment and shook Nico’s hand. He embraced Ali and Gibril. “Allah be with you, with all of you.”
“And you, my friend,” Ali answered.
The truck rambled out of Alexandria at dusk and headed south into the sandy wilderness. Gibril drove, Ali and Nico sat next to him. They watched the peach and
lilac sky become purple and then the blackness of the desert night fell upon them. The men were grateful for the cover.
Two hours out of the city they stopped. Aleko, the teacher, and the doctor jumped out from the back of the truck. The men in the front cab did the same. They stretched and drank some water.
“Where exactly are we?” Aleko asked the teacher.
“Do you have your map?” Ali said, taking another swallow of water. Aleko nodded and handed it to him. Ali looked at it for a moment and then motioned to the spot where they were with his flashlight. “There is an oasis about ten miles east of here and a Coptic church right next to it.
“This is as good a place as any. Let’s bury them here,” the teacher said, and then his eyes grew very big as he saw the coordinates on the map. That’s absolutely amazing! He thought.
The men went to the back of the truck and came out with shovels. They took off their medical coats and threw them into the front cab. They dug for hours and when the hole was big enough they brought the cadavers out of the truck and laid them in their final resting place. Just before dawn Aleko brought the last body bag and opened it up. He took out the radio, gave it to the teacher and waited. The teacher looked at the map one more time and turned on the wireless. He reached for the little codebook and sent a garbled message. When he finished he gave the radio back to Aleko. The engineer took his rifle and with the butt broke the transmitting machine and threw it in the grave. They covered everything up.