The Darkest Hour

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The Darkest Hour Page 46

by Roberta Kagan


  My father took my hand and walked to a nearby chair where he sat down, and I sat on his lap. I felt safe with his strong arms around me. “I have to go with Apostolos and the boys around the gorge to evade the Germans,” he said.

  “Why can’t Apostolos do it? I thought you were coming with us to the cabin.”

  “I want you and Mama to go to the cabin. Your aunty Yannoula, Stavros, and Ellie will be there too. Don’t come down from the mountain until I come to get you. Alright?”

  “You are coming back to get us, right?”

  “Yes, I will come back and get you to take you back to the farm.”

  “Alright, but why do you have to go?”

  Papa hugged me tight and told me a secret. “I know a secret way around the gorge. Do you remember the summer we went hunting and Theo caught that wild pig? That’s where we are going.”

  I looked up at my father as the gunfire and exploding artillery sounded louder and closer. I could smell the gunpowder in the air and knew that we had to leave. “You will be back, right?”

  “I will be back.”

  “You promise?” I asked and hoped he would promise me he was going to be back. I needed to hear those words. “A promise is a promise, Papa.”

  “No, I can’t promise, little one. No one can promise—”

  “But Papa—”

  “Zoe, we are going to try to stop the Germans, but you have to do your part. You have to be strong and be like Laskarina Bouboulina.”

  “She was ferocious and a hero in the war of Liberation!”

  “That’s right. You must be like Laskarina. Whatever happens, my little girl, you must be strong. You must be courageous and never let anything stop you. If I don’t make it back, your mama is going to need you.”

  I didn’t want to think about what my father just said. Of course, he was coming back. He couldn’t leave us. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “If I don’t go, my baby, how are we going to win this war? Remember the brave men and women during the Liberation? They had to go and fight for our motherland.” Papa tipped my face towards him and gazed into my eyes. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

  “Yes, this much.” I threw back my arms and tried to mimic the love he said he had for me. “I love you even bigger. Bigger than Mount Ossa!”

  “Only that much?” Papa teased and then kissed me on the cheek. “Be brave, be strong, and listen to Mama until I come back. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes, Papa, but—”

  “Shh.” Papa wrapped his strong arms around me and kissed me on the head. “Be brave.”

  I was not feeling brave. I was scared, and I didn’t want him to leave. “Yes, I will be brave,” I said although I was not honest.

  “I love you and never forget how much. I will always love you. You are my favorite daughter.”

  “I’m your only daughter,” I told him and wanted to cry and beg my father not to leave, but I couldn’t. He was going to save the Australians so they could win the war.

  “That’s why you’re my favorite,” Papa replied as he gently tapped his finger on my nose. “Now I have to get up and say goodbye to your mama. It may be a few days before I come to the cabin.”

  Papa walked away and went towards Mama, who was anxiously standing by the wagon. He put his arm around her waist and even in the darkness I could see how much they loved each other. One day when I get married, I want to be able to look at my husband the way my mama is doing. I may never find that one person to love like that, but if God is listening, that’s what I want.

  It was getting late, and we boarded the wagon. I desperately wanted to hang on to my father but knew he had a job to do. Papa led Zeus towards the road, and the other cart followed us until we got to the crossroads. Papa gave me another kiss on the cheek and kissed my mother on the lips before he walked back to the covered wagon.

  I turned in my seat to see my papa getting on board. He looked back at us as the wagon turned and made its way down the road.

  “Come back to us, Papa,” I cried out as Mama led Zeus towards Athena’s Bluff.

  Chapter 2

  April 18, 1941

  “Zoe! The last thing I need is for you to fall out of that tree!” My mother’s voice rang out from the entrance to the cabin. She had been repeating this admonition every hour. I suspected it gave her something to do other than worrying about my father.

  The war was raging in the valley, and I had hoped the Allies were beating the Germans. I looked up into the soggy sky and prayed to God he was going to be faithful to his word. One scripture my mama likes to recite is Psalm chapter 55 and verse 22: Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee: he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved. Well, time to pay up, God, and show me. I’m casting my burden on you.

  “Zoe! Get down from the tree!”

  “I’m watching the war, and we’re winning!”

  “Come down from there!”

  “No, I want to wait for Papa. It’s not cold.” The rain stung my face, and I shivered because I was wearing a light sweater and it was soaked. I yelled down from my perch on the highest tree I could find to climb. It was freezing cold, and the little cover the tree was giving me wasn’t enough to stop the rain from pelting me in the face. I wasn’t prepared to move until my father returned or I fell out of the tree.

  Other than it being useless protection from the weather, the tree afforded me the view of the path leading up the mountain. It also allowed me to see the battle; at least part of the fight that wasn’t covered by the trees. Explosion after explosion, gunfire echoed in the valley as the Allies battled the Germans.

  Greece has held off tyrants before. Miss. Keratsis told us that in the gorge where the Germans were now raging like mad dogs, another country tried to invade us. The King of Persia tried to beat Greece with his massive army, but we drove him back. I know my history and the Greeks are a mighty force. We will beat them.

  Since we came to Athena’s Bluff two nights ago, we had my mother’s sister, Evgenia, brought to the cabin by my cousin Stavros. Evgenia was in the hospital because of something. No one tells me anything, but it was terrible enough for her to be in the hospital. She doesn’t look well. The hospital has been evacuated, and German planes are bombing Larissa. I see them flying overhead, and they make the most awful noise. They come in so low that if I reached up, just a little, I would be able to touch them. Of course, I can’t, but if I had a gun, I could bring one of those airplanes down. They screech overhead and drop bombs into the valley and Stavros was telling me Larissa is on fire. There is no escaping these demons. I see the planes and wonder why our aircraft are not fighting them?

  “Mama! I see someone coming up the pass!” I screamed out and berated myself that I had forgotten to take my telescope from the farm. I couldn’t make out who was coming up the road. Hopefully, it wasn’t a German or else we would be in terrible trouble. I had also forgotten to take my rifle, my knife, and my bow and arrow. I was not prepared as a good soldier should have been. Laskarina Bouboulina would have been prepared. Already I have failed the first test as a soldier. I’m not going to make that same mistake again.

  I pulled back my sodden hair out of my eyes and tried to focus on the path. I had no weapon, and I couldn’t break the tree limb to use it because it was too thick. I was desperate to use something to defend Mama and Aunty Evgenia. I slapped myself on the head when I remembered that Papa stored the metal rods for the lamb spit we had on Easter in the woodshed. I scrambled down the tree, skinning my knee and shins on my way down. I was now cold, wet and bleeding, but I didn’t care. I had to get the metal rods before whoever was coming got here.

  I could barely see anything. The torrential downpour hit me in the face like a thousand mosquitoes had descended on Athena’s Bluff and found my face. I slipped and slid my way to the woodshed and almost fell on the sodden floor. I didn’t want to move, but I had to because whoever was coming up the pass was going to be here soon. I hoped that t
he rain was going to stall them long enough for me to find the rods.

  I mustered up the strength to get myself off the floor and find the rods that were stored behind the woodpile. They were a little heavy, but if I used both hands to wield them like a sword, I could use them.

  I threw open the door of the shed and raced out. The rain had not stopped, but at least I could see in front of me without thinking that I was losing my eyesight. I ran down the path, metal rod in hand, to meet the danger.

  Stavros was wearily trudging up the now slippery, mud-soaked path. He used a broken limb to keep from slipping and tried to steady himself when I ran into him at full pelt. A tree limb was the only thing that stopped us from careening down the path. I took hold of his soaking wet jacket and tried to see past him. My hair was plastered to my face and obscured my view. I pulled my bangs aside, out of my eyes and looked past Stavros to see my father.

  My father was not coming up the pass. Stavros had promised that the next time I would see him, he would have my father with him.

  “Where's Papa?”

  Stavros did not answer me; he hung his head. His sodden hair was a mass of black curls, and he gazed at me with his black eyes. I wasn’t sure if he was crying or if it was the rain. There was no time to ask him anything because someone else was coming up the path.

  Papa was here! I could hear someone coming now that the rain had lessened. The skies were also quiet from the demonic German planes. I ran down the path, and there is a slight bend as it weaves its way up the mountain. I whooped and hollered thinking my father was around the corner.

  It wasn’t my father.

  Coming up the path were Father Haralambos and Apostolos. I rushed down the muddy trail and slipped in the mud and came to a stop only when Apostolos broke my descent. He helped me up as Father Haralambos braced himself against the tree. Undoubtedly, my father was just behind them.

  “Where is Papa?” I asked and leaned over and tried to see past the thick knot of trees and brush. “Is he bringing the wagon? We've been up here for days, and we don’t know what’s going on!”

  “Let's get out of the rain first, my child, and then we—”

  “No!” I put both hands on the cleric's black cassock and stopped him in his tracks. “Where is my father?”

  “Zoe, it's raining. As you can see, it’s not about to stop. Let us all get into the cabin so we can talk.” Apostolos tried to reason with me.

  “I want to know where my father is!”

  “Zoe, your mother is waiting to hear as well. It's not fair to make her wait longer than necessary.” Stavros tried to reason but was getting ignored by me. He did the only thing that appeared to come to mind. He picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. I was taken by surprise and yelled in outrage as they trudged up the path. The only sounds were my yelling and the howling wind.

  I braced myself against the back of the door and watched my mother being comforted by Father H. I heard the words, I understood them but didn’t want to believe them.

  Papa was dead. No, it wasn’t possible. Not my father. It can’t be right. Maybe he’s on his way, and Apostolos lost track of him. That must be it. My father was NOT dead.

  “How did you lose my father?” I asked Apostolos, who was looking at me with those sad blue eyes of his. Those eyes were looking more freakish than they usually did. He has unnaturally blue eyes, and I hated them.

  “I didn’t…”

  “You left Papa out there and didn’t go back to look for him?”

  “Zoe! That’s no way to speak to Apostolos!”

  I don’t talk back to my mama, but this time, I just had to. “Mama, Apostolos left Papa out there, with the Germans!”

  My mama was horrified. I could tell from the way she narrowed her green eyes and her brow furrowed. Usually what followed was either her slipper would come flying and hit me on the legs or I would be without my books and sketchbook. I preferred the flying sandals. I didn’t care what it was now because it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

  “Why are you still alive?” I yelled at Apostolos after listening to everything he had said. It was a pack of lies. I pushed away from the door and came up to Apostolos, who stood more than a foot taller than me. He was broad shouldered with black hair, and those light blue eyes made him seem demonic. I hated the way he was looking at me. I hated everything about him. I despised Athenians with their funny accents and looks.

  “Why aren’t you dead? There’s not a mark on you.”

  “Zoe! What did I just say?” My mother admonished me, but I took no note of her. Nor did I pay attention to my Aunt Evgenia, who was in the corner praying. Why was that woman praying? It’s too late for that!

  “Respect is earned, Mama. Apostolos is lying. Athenians lie all the time!”

  “I am not lying, Zoe…” Apostolos bent forward in what seemed to me to try to convince me he was telling the truth, but it only made me angrier.

  “The cart overturned and your father…”

  I did not wait to hear the rest of the excuse. I struck him with my open hand. Apostolos did not react, which only made me angrier. I spun around and ran to the door, opening it and then slammed it shut right behind me.

  I stood on the balcony. The rain had not subsided, but I didn’t care anymore. I made my way to the unprotected bluff that overlooked Tempi Gorge in a rage. I trembled with anger at God for taking my father.

  “I HATE YOU!” I yelled out and felt my heart being crushed at the thought my father was dead. He was really gone.

  “I HATE YOU, GOD! I HATE YOU! YOU PROMISED! A PROMISE IS A PROMISE!” I screamed and knew it was useless because God didn’t care. I sank to my knees and wept for my papa and what was to become of all of us. God had abandoned us. Everything was hurting.

  Chapter 3

  “Can I come in?”

  I heard Father Haralambos’ voice from inside the woodshed. I was angry with everyone, and I didn’t want to see that Athenian fool, but I was cold and wet. My stubbornness won out, and I had ended up in the woodshed.

  The wind was howling outside, and I could feel the cold under my feet. I felt sorry for the priest. It wasn’t his fault that God lied. I beckoned inside. If I weren’t angry, I would have laughed—his robes were plastered to him, and his kalimavkion was also soaked, and the water had dripped down his face. I didn’t laugh because there was no laughter in me. He was just a man who was soaking wet. Father H took a seat on a pile of logs.

  “The tears of God are washing over our country, Zoe.”

  “What’s he crying about? He’s the one who broke his promise, and my papa is dead. You promised me that God was on our side.”

  “He is on our side.”

  “You’re lying! The enemy is at our door! Is that being on our side? Papa died because he believed God was on our side!”

  “Your papa still lives. He is in heaven with God…”

  “I don’t want him in heaven! I want him here, with us. I don’t want him to be with Michael, Thieri, and Theo! I want him HERE!” I screamed at the priest, who withstood all my anger and his demeanor never changed. Instead, he got up from the woodpile and came to sit next to me.

  “Zoe…”

  “You lied to me.”

  “I didn’t lie to you. I said God was on our side and He is. Do you remember all the lessons you have heard in church about striving for good and God will reward you?”

  “That’s not going to happen now.”

  “It will happen. Our world is on fire, and the demons are walking the earth. Do you remember that God said that the devil will be walking about like a roaring lion? That’s what he is doing now. When a wild beast is loose, people die.”

  “Why doesn’t God kill the German and Italian pigs? Why doesn’t he send a bolt of lightning and set them on fire? I would have done that.”

  “Our job, little one, is to resist the invaders like our forefathers did so many years ago. God will avenge the fallen, but we have to do our part.”


  “I’ll take a gun and shoot them all.”

  “Your job, my child, is to help your mama through this difficult time. Then, after forty days, you can join the Resistance.”

  “I will fight them, Father. I will.”

  “I know you will, but for now, your mama needs you to be strong. Can you do that? God would want you to do that.”

  “I don’t care what God wants.”

  “What about doing it for your mama? She needs you, and I need you to be strong. Can you do that?”

  “Yes. Papa told me to be brave like Laskarina Bouboulina, and I will be brave.”

  “That’s my Zoe. There will be tough times ahead. Tough times, but we must be brave, and we will fight them off.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know, but God will show us the way, and we will follow.”

  “What if God doesn’t show us the way?”

  “He will. I have faith in Him, and He will guide us.”

  “I don’t have faith, Father H. If I don’t have faith in God, what happens?”

  “Oh, my child, don’t worry. I have more than enough faith for the both of us. Together we will overcome this.”

  “I hope you are right.”

  “I’m right. God will see us through this darkness.”

  I didn’t believe God was going to answer our prayers, although Father H thought so, but he is a priest, so that made sense to him. God lied to me, and as far as I am concerned, he’s dead to me. I do not believe in God. He lied about my brothers, and he lied about my father. I now have to kill as many Germans as I can before I join them. I will avenge their deaths.

  Chapter 4

  July 5, 1942

  “No. Don’t.”

  I wanted to ignore Mama’s plea for me not to hurl the nearest rock at the Italian soldiers. I glanced up at my mother, and the stubbornness died on my lips. She looked so tired. I heard her when she cried at night when she thought I was asleep. I wasn’t asleep but plotting how to avenge my father’s death. That’s when I was not hungry. I never used to think of food all the time before the war. Now that’s all I think about other than wanting to kill the maggots that have invaded my home. It’s hot, and I’m hungry.

 

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