Jeffrey Siger - An Aegean Prophecy

Kouros turned his head away from the naked bodies. He concentrated on the rocky hills, bright blue sky, and his chief’s anger. By the time Andreas finished, Kouros was sitting up, shaking his fist, and yelling, ‘Miserable bastards, I’d like to show them what I’d do to that cocksucker Zacharias if he were in my hands.’

Kouros watched a nearby couple grab their clothes and hurry away from him. ‘I understand why you’re angry, Chief, but what can we do about it?’

‘Wish I knew. Well, think about it, and if anything comes to you let me know.’

‘Why don’t you run it past our friend?’ Kouros paused. ‘Mr T.’

‘Mr T?’

Kouros heard a laugh.

‘I get it. I see we’re back to Marathon-style communication. Okay, will do. Enjoy the rest of your holiday. Bye.’

Kouros let out a deep breath and looked around. The sun was almost down. He’d better get back to the apartment and take a nap. Tonight would be a late one. He intended to get plastered. Miserable bureaucrats, they’re everywhere.

‘You just missed your mother.’ Lila was sitting next to the window in her study looking out toward the Acropolis.

Andreas stood in the doorway, staring at her: a Madonna at the window, framed in an illuminated Parthenon against a jet-black sky. ‘How is she?’ Andreas blew her a kiss.

She did not turn. ‘Still as lovely a person as I’ve ever known.’

‘She feels the same about you.’

‘I know.’ She looked at him. ‘She’s all excited about the baby.’ He nodded. ‘How’s the little bugger doing?’

Lila stroked her belly. ‘Fine.’ She looked back out the window.

Andreas grabbed a chair, pulled it up next to her, and sat down. He reached for her hand. She let him take it. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Perfect. Just perfect.’

In Andreas’ experience with women, that generally meant just the opposite. ‘Are you nervous?’

‘No.’

‘Sad?’

Lila gestured no.

‘Then what is it, kukla? I know something is bothering you.’

She turned her eyes toward him; tears were welling up. ‘Disappointed.’

He felt the knife.

‘Why don’t you love me enough to want to marry me?’ Her lower lip was quivering.

He felt the twist. He shook his head. ‘Not now, please. This isn’t the time. You’re not thinking clearly.’

‘I’m not thinking clearly? Andreas Kaldis, even your mother knows how fucked-up your thinking is on this.’

That was not the sort of language he was used to hearing from Lila. And to have his mother brought into this ‘You just don’t get it, do you?’

‘Maybe I’m just too hung up on this Patmos monk’s murder.’

Lila shook her head violently. ‘No, no, no. There will always be something, some reason, some excuse to fall back on. You, my love, are afraid. Purely and simply afraid.’

‘Of what?’

‘You tell me.’

Andreas paused. ‘Okay.’ He paused again. ‘We’ve too little in common. You know that. It could never work out. You’d be miserable if you had to live your life with me as your husband.’

Lila smiled. ‘Great, you finally said it.’

‘That makes you happy?’

She squeezed his hand. ‘Yes, because until you are willing to talk about it, we can’t work it out.’

‘We can’t “work it out.” It is what it is.’

‘No, this is the only thing that “is what it is.”’ Lila pointed to her belly. ‘The rest is illusion.’

‘Be realistic. Our backgrounds, everything about us is different. What kind of a life could we have together? It would frustrate you to no end.’

Lila smiled again. ‘Owning things, attending gala events, receiving honors, or solving big cases is not life. Those are just landmarks along the way. A life is made up of everyday, simple moments. Like making love in the morning in a bed filled with crumbs from your sloppy toast-eating habits, laughing together at the pigeons in the park who pounced on your souvlaki after you put it down to tie my shoelace when I couldn’t bend over.’ She paused. ‘Your being there when I needed you most, night after night, holding my hand, not knowing if I’d ever come out of my coma.’ She squeezed his hand and placed it on her belly. ‘And sharing moments like this. That’s what a life is. The hard part is finding someone to share those moments with who loves and cares for you as much as I do you.’

He turned away.

‘Andreas. It’s okay to cry.’

‘Haven’t in years.’

‘I know, your mother told me.’ She paused. ‘Don’t worry, we don’t have to talk about this now. I just wanted you to know how I felt.’

Andreas swallowed. Amazing, and I thought she’d be the one who couldn’t handle this conversation now. I guess imminent motherhood toughens you. I have a lot to learn.

Lila stood up and kissed him on the cheek. ‘You have a lot to learn, my love.’

Kouros ate dinner at his favorite place on Mykonos, a little taverna on Megali Ammos beach within walking distance of the old town. Great people, great food, a terrific view, and perhaps the best prices on Mykonos — a particularly important consideration for a cop treating his buddy to dinner for letting him crash at his apartment.

Now it was many hours and what seemed a thousand bars later. His buddy had gone home, leaving Kouros alone at what he called the ‘hottest’ spot on Mykonos. The place was around the corner from Mykonos’ town hall, thirty feet from the edge of the sea, and faced the nearby island of Tinos. Kouros was on a barstool a few feet away from a pair of open French doors, relying on a breeze off the sea to keep him from falling asleep on the spot. The bartender was a nice guy. Kept pouring him water every time he asked for vodka. It wasn’t a ripoff, because he knew Kouros was a cop and wouldn’t take his money anyway. It was an act of kindness that preserved Kouros’ macho image at the same time as it protected his liver.

The guy next to him started to talk. ‘This place stays open in the winter, gets a mostly Mykonian crowd. Now it’s mixed, part Mykonian, part tourist. Later in the season it’s mixed in a different way. Gays and straights, mainly gays in August.’

Why is he telling me all this? Kouros took another sip of his drink and swung around on his stool to look across the bay toward Tinos.

‘Delos is beautiful, isn’t it? So spiritual. You can catch a boat for it over there.’ He pointed off to the right. ‘In the morning.’

Obviously, the guy had no idea who Kouros was or that the Holy Island of Delos wasn’t where he was looking. Kouros gave the guy a ‘please stop bothering me’ stare. He was afraid if he said something it would be ‘Fuck off.’ No reason to start something.

The guy didn’t take the hint. ‘You know, I come to Mykonos to get away from all the pressures of my life as a Greek living high in London.’ He launched into a story about his business, his corrupt partners, what he’d done for revenge, and a host of other things he probably wouldn’t even think of telling his pillow. But now he was drunk at four-thirty in the morning in a bar on Mykonos. If Kouros were interested, he probably could get the guy to confess his deepest, most secret fears. That’s just the way it was here; everything seemed so unreal that people talked as if their words held no consequences.

But Kouros wasn’t interested, so he tuned the guy out, stared off into the distance, and tried to concentrate on how to nail Zacharias.

‘So, what do you do my friend?’ The guy smiled and put his hand on Kouros’ thigh. In the not-too-distant past, that move would have resulted in a certain loss of fingers.

Kouros returned the smile, reached into his shirt for his ID, stuck it in the man’s face, and said, ‘I’m a cop charged with investigating special crimes that come to my attention.’