Jeffrey Siger - An Aegean Prophecy

He’d confide a past that made him less than perfect, one that encouraged rescue and, in a monastery, a shared desire for salvation. His story forged a relationship in spiritual steel. The other now ‘knew’ Zacharias’ weaknesses and understood him completely: Zacharias was a soul seeking redemption and a place in heaven through a revived life of selfless good works and prayer.

And to keep all of them believing that, he’d keep on praying.

‘These still are pretty good.’ Kouros was eating one of the spanikopita from the night before.

‘Obviously, you’re a bachelor,’ said Andreas.

‘And proud of it.’ He finished off the last bite and reached for another one.

‘Stop already, I’m getting sick watching you eat that crap.’

Kouros didn’t stop. ‘So, how did your early morning call go to the Protos?’

‘Just terrific, everything’s absolutely perfect in paradise. The answer to our question on the surprise appearance of the twentieth abbot at the Protos’ ceremony turns out to be a dead end. We’ve got a savior monk reuniting the gone-astray monastery with the flock. And I can’t even talk to that monk until Sunday morning.’

‘Sunday, why Sunday?’

‘No person or communication is allowed to enter or exit that monastery from Palm Sunday through noon on Easter Sunday.’

‘Bummer. Which monastery is it?’

‘The one Maggie and I were talking about last night.’

‘Chief, you never mentioned the name. The two of you were looking at some paper and I was falling asleep.’

Andreas shook his head and said the name.

Kouros stopped in mid-bite. ‘You’re kidding me?’

‘Why?’

‘That’s the monastery of the three missing monks. The monks we never got to interview on Patmos.’

Andreas sat up in his chair. ‘The same ones Abbot Christodoulos said left to return-’

‘Sunday night. But if what the Protos told you was true, no way they could have made it back to that monastery in time to take part in Easter Week.’

Andreas nodded his head.

‘Maybe you misunderstood what the abbot said?’

‘No way.’ Andreas paused. ‘But maybe he didn’t know that monastery’s rule and just thought that’s where they were going.’

‘Maybe, but before the abbot came to Patmos he was on Mount Athos for a half dozen years. If that monastery was as strict as the Protos said, he must have known they couldn’t have made it back to their monastery in time.’

‘Kind of makes you wonder.’ Andreas picked up a pencil, stared at it, and put it back down on his desk. ‘Let’s see what the abbot has to say for himself.’

Lila always liked time to herself and had no doubt that’s what helped keep her from going mad when, after her husband’s death, virtually every eligible man in Athens and beyond was after her. She detested all the phony posturing and hustle of the dating scene, and learned that ‘eligible’ could be a relative term to many a currently married man who saw landing Lila as a unique opportunity for ‘trading up’ the social ladder. She’d even tinkered with the idea of escaping her suitors by hiding away in a monastery for nuns. But the fates were Greek and they had their own plans for her. Or so Lila now liked to say.

At the moment, though, Lila was not alone. Her mother had stopped by and they were sitting in Lila’s kitchen having coffee. As a child, Lila would sit in her mother’s kitchen and watch her hover around the cooks, making sure everything was prepared ‘just like your father likes it.’ Even though her mother never had to cook or touch a dirty dish, she was as much an old-school Greek wife as any you’d find in the remotest mountain village: husband ruled, wife did all else — albeit, in Lila’s mother’s case, with a houseful of servants to help.

Kitchens were where Lila and her mother liked to talk when alone. They preferred the cramped intimacy of a cluttered kitchen table to the formality of china-and silver-filled dining rooms.

Lila sighed. ‘I never expected this to happen.’

Her mother glanced at Lila’s belly.

Lila stroked her tummy. ‘No, mother, not the baby, I mean this.’ She waved her hands around and over her head. ‘I didn’t even know Andreas ten months ago. Now we’re about to have a baby together.’

Her mother nodded. ‘Are you afraid?’

Lila’s lip quivered. ‘Yes. And I feel so ashamed that I am.’ She started crying.

Her mother handed her a handkerchief. ‘If you weren’t somewhat afraid it wouldn’t be natural. You’re close to the most intimate moment of a woman’s life, giving birth to a being you will love more deeply than yourself for the rest of your life.’ She reached over and stroked Lila’s hair. ‘It is a moment for great joy. And great fear. But you are blessed. Andreas is a wonderful man and will be a terrific father.’

Lila threw the handkerchief on the table. ‘But he won’t marry me. He won’t even talk about it.’

‘Why do you think that is?’

From her mother’s tone Lila could tell she had asked the question with a pretty good idea of the answer. It was her style of parenting: don’t tell, lead and elicit. ‘He’s afraid, too.’

Her mother nodded.

‘But why? He must know that I love him.’

‘Of course he does. He’s just not sure that’s enough for you.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘You come from different backgrounds. He fears you later may regret your decision, that your feelings for him now are tied into having a baby together.’

‘Are you trying to tell me you think the same way?’ There was an angry tone in Lila’s voice.

Her mother smiled. ‘One of the things I like most about Andreas is how he’s learned to deal with this confrontational streak of yours. No, I don’t think that way. Besides, it’s not my life that will be affected by second thoughts and “what ifs.”’

‘I have no such issues.’

‘Good, then don’t push things.’

‘But it’s difficult to act as if I don’t care whether or not he marries me.’

‘I know, but trust me, he’ll come around. After all, how could he resist the best person in the world?’ She stood up and kissed Lila on the forehead. ‘And the mother of his baby.’ She patted Lila’s belly. ‘Got to run.’

Lila smiled and took her mother’s hand. ‘Thanks, I love you.’

She’s right, Lila thought. I shouldn’t push. Instead, maybe I should try hitting him over the head with a frying pan until he proposes? No chance, he’d never feel it. She chuckled despite herself.

The abbot was not pleased at the surprise visit. Even less so when Andreas insisted that the procession of monks entering his office, dropping to their knees before him, crossing themselves, and kissing his hand must end, and those already seated in his office told to leave.

‘We are reviewing the plans for tomorrow morning’s Holy Thursday Ceremony of the Basin. We have very important things to discuss.’

‘So do we, but unless you want to risk washing dirty laundry in front of everyone here today, I suggest you excuse them for now.’

Andreas could see the abbot was angry, but he told his monks to leave.

‘This better be important.’

Andreas was in no mood to be politic with anyone. ‘If I were you, I’d hope it isn’t.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘Do you remember telling me that the three monks we wanted to interview had left Patmos before you had the chance to speak to them?’

‘Yes.’

‘And that they’d left by boat late Sunday night?’

The abbot hesitated slightly. ‘Yes.’

‘And that the reason they left was so that they could “be back in their monasteries in time for Easter observances”?’ Andreas emphasized the last words with quotation marks from his fingers.