Athora, page 14
* * *
On the drive to the Chora, I saw the damage caused by the storm during the night. Cut cables, uprooted trees, collapsed dry walls and flooded fields… If those were just a warning, I did not want to contemplate what would happen next.
I already sensed an invisible threat in the air. Black clouds seemed to be scudding toward Athora from all four corners of the horizon, locked in a deadly race to reach the island.
I wondered what Gabriel was up to, but there was no way of contacting him other than driving to his hotel and finding him. I chased that thought away.
As soon as I reached the square, I saw Stelios by the church, gesticulating wildly to a group of people who had once again gathered there. “Hello Fotini, good morning,” he said, still frowning as he left the group and walked toward me.
“Good morning,” I replied and pulled him further away to a more secluded spot, where we wouldn’t be overheard. “Have you received the weather warning?”
“Our only contact with the outside world is through military radio. That’s how we are communicating too,” he said holding up a portable two-way radio. “We got a warning at dawn that the weather would worsen tonight. That’s what I was trying to tell them over there, that they should take precautions, but they won’t listen.”
“I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I was warned that it will get a lot worse. Maybe you should make an announcement for people to gather at the shelter, or find a safe place to hide. We have a good, solid cellar but most people, especially the foreigners staying in bungalows, should lock up their houses and go there.”
Petros looked at me, puzzled. “Are you saying that we should declare a state of emergency? The mayor and most of the council are in Psara, for the local authority conference. A small unit of around ten soldiers is stationed in Pera Mera, so, for now, all authority lies with the chief of police.”
“Let’s move somewhere quiet where you can radio him so I can speak to him. We haven’t got much time.”
Without another word, we moved to a clearing and, once he got through, I reported more or less everything Professor Marcus had said, citing sources in the US. He revealed that a new message had just been radioed to them, confirming that as of this evening the weather would turn very nasty. He agreed that we should encourage all those who did not have a safe place to stay to come to the shelter, but felt that an official announcement would only spread panic.
We decided to all meet at the Chora around 11.00 am, to coordinate our efforts: civilians, army, and the port authorities. I then asked him whether there was any news about the murder, but I understood that under the present circumstances the murder was no longer a priority. The only thing that troubled me was that Father George’s killer was circulating freely among us.
It wasn’t long before people started to fill the square. Phone lines and the internet were still down, and the only means of contact with the outside world were walkie-talkies. Some people had managed to pick up some news on the radio—and they were all disheartening. Skyros, Chios, and Andros had been devastated by the intense weather. Many were missing and feared dead.
Following our conversation, the chief of police decided some measures had to be put in place. He announced that the shelter would open for all those who wished to stay there for the duration of the storm. A generator would be installed at the shelter, as reports of power outages were coming in from various small villages around the island.
While he gave instructions for the transportation of provisions there, I saw Gabriel arrive. He waved hello from afar, but I couldn’t go greet him until the end of the briefing.
Many of those gathered were foreigners who had moved to the island in the past decade, choosing Athora as their home and hoping for a peaceful retirement. Here was nature, now, upsetting those best-laid plans.
An agitated woman in her sixties kept saying that her partner had gone missing during the storm. The couple lived in a villa by the road leading to Pera Mera. From her words, I gathered that they had met on the island and been living together these past few years. She had looked for him everywhere, she said, and now she was getting worried. A small search party quickly formed to go help her search for the missing man. I feared that he would be our first casualty.
An hour later, Stelios returned running to the square. He had been ordered by the chief to make a tour of the island and report on the damage. “There’s been a large landslide further up the mountain,” he said, out of breath.
I felt caught in a disaster movie. Sophie’s house was on that slope, I realized with a start. “I know the way there well,” I said. “We should head out there and see if she needs help.” I felt a lot of sympathy for the strange woman after the incident with Lukas. More than likely, the potion she had given him had saved his life.
Gabriel, making his way through the crowd, walked up to me. “I want to help.”
Stelios heard him and nodded his acceptance, then shouted for volunteers to step forward. A group of men left to help the woman search for her missing partner. Others dispersed to go home or stayed to help organize the shelter.
I kept looking up at the sky, where the clouds seemed to be mounting their ambush on the small island of Athora.
Stelios gestured to another man to come help Gabriel and me. It was someone I had never seen before.
“I’m Carlo,” he said in English, holding my hand a second longer than necessary, as if he wanted me to notice him. I pulled it back with a smile, paying no heed to the gesture.
“Let’s go!” Stelios shouted, walking fast to the police jeep.
The two men sat in the back seat and, after introducing themselves, fell silent for the rest of the journey.
Driving past the supermarket, we balked at the scenes that greeted us. Like a pack of angry animals, people had lunged on a container of bottled water, pulling at the plastic wrapping to get to the bottles and shouting at each other. Some seemed ready to start exchanging punches; others exited the store with trolleys filled to the brim or hastily flung their shopping into their cars.
Stelios slammed on the brakes and stepped outside. Everyone ignored him, as if he were invisible. He started shouting at the top of his voice. Only then did he seem to catch their reluctant attention, along with annoyed looks. He was telling them to calm down. While he tried to restore some order, I saw Petros and Kimon leave the supermarket, each pushing a trolley loaded with food and other supplies. Realizing who it was that had spread the panic, I felt annoyed with myself for speaking in front of Petros and believing he would keep his mouth shut. It was now evident that peace was hanging by a thread and things could easily get out of control.
Stelios returned a few minutes later. We made our way up the mountain. My eyes met Gabriel’s in the rearview mirror, but he was silent and only spoke when spoken to. I could detect some sadness in the way he looked at me and I wanted to ask him what the matter was, but I didn’t get a chance. We met many obstacles along the way and had to stop often to clear the fallen rocks or large branches we could not circumvent.
Stelios would stop and warn everyone we crossed of the coming storm. On a deserted part of the drive, we saw a man coming toward us from the opposite direction.
“Where do you think you are going?” Stelios asked him sternly, in English, once we were near. I realized he knew the man.
“I was trying to get to the Chora, but I think I’m lost,” the man replied.
Stelios thought about it for a moment and then gestured at the man to get inside the car, telling him he was coming with us to help. Even though it sounded like an abrupt order, the stranger readily agreed and squeezed in at the back with the other two. “Hi, I’m Azim. Can anyone tell me what’s happening?” he anxiously asked.
I gave him a quick update on the situation and then turned to look ahead. In the distance, the clouds had become one with the sea, as if some hungry vortex was sucking them down to the depths.
We had left the main road and followed a dirt path until it came to an abrupt stop. Removing a coil of rope from the trunk, we started to walk along the narrow path that led to Sophie’s house.
I soon realized that it would be impossible for us to reach the house this way. Large rocks blocked the road ahead. We would have to climb up to the peak and, hopefully, manage to make our way down the other side, circling the rocks blocking our way.
Everyone agreed. Stelios, looking in the direction of the house, called out Sophie’s name a couple of times hoping for a response. Unfortunately, the only reply was the echo of his voice.
I described the route we should take, and Carlo led the way with the assurance of an experienced hiker. I followed, Gabriel walked behind me, and the other two came last. I could hear them talk about Azim being summoned to the police station, but the wind scattered most of their words out of my hearing range.
We paused to catch our breath and drink some water.
“Will you tell us why you are here?” Stelios asked Azim in an accusatory tone. “If you have a French passport why did you come to Greece with the refugees?”
Azim gave us a despairing look. With a deep sigh, he began to tell his story. “I’m engaged to a girl from Turkey. Her father has been accused of being a conspirator in the coup. They arrested him and now the police are looking for us, saying we are collaborators. My fiancée managed to get to France with a fake passport, but I was trapped in the country, so I tried to cross to Greece with my compatriots from Syria. All I want is to get to France and be with her.” He wiped a tear from his cheek.
“But they won’t stop looking for you. You should have told the authorities all of this when you arrived,” Stelios commented, all stern and official.
“And get deported to Turkey, where, as we all know, justice will prevail,” he said sarcastically. “You’ve heard how they treat prisoners, right?”
I thought this was neither the time nor the place for this and said so, looking at Stelios intently. He seemed to doubt Azim’s story. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was harboring some kind of prejudice. I felt moved by the way Azim spoke about his fiancée and about how impatient he was to be with her.
We didn’t stop for long. We kept climbing, the peak coming into sight. Sophie’s house was not too far from there. Pera Mera was visible across the small channel separating the island, as was a part of the bridge in the distance.
The higher up we climbed, the more I felt the sky get nearer, weigh down heavier, with every passing minute. Out of breath, we reached the highest point, where Sophie had carved the rock: a wide open eye with a smaller eye in its iris, as if gestating it. There had been an uproar when she had done that. People had wanted to tear it down, but no one had dared to actually do it. Thus the peculiar monument remained, watching the island like a vigilant guard.
Down the other side of the peak, the mountain looked like it had been raked over by a set of giant claws. Large rocks had shifted and tumbled down. The path was no longer there. We picked our way down carefully among the boulders, estimating the direction of the house.
The landscape was completely different and the ground, though solid rock, seemed to have subsided after the torrential rain and wind. Even the Anemotafia—the wind tombs—lay scattered in pieces, dotted remnants showing where they had once stood. They must have been swept down into the cliff. If the legend was true, the winds had now been unleashed to bring destruction on earth. Maybe that had already happened, I wryly thought looking at the destruction around me.
I stopped at a point I assumed was the small plateau in front of the house and carefully peered at the heap of rocks before me. Between two enormous boulders, I could just about make out the corner of a window. It would be hard to access and it would take a very long time to move the rocks. As for anyone exiting the house, that would be impossible.
Stelios gave me one end of the rope to hold and started to climb over the rocks. A boulder had stopped horizontally, leaving an opening like a magic gate. I told him to wait until I had a sturdy grip on the rope. Almost immediately, Carlo, Gabriel, and Azim came near me, helping me hold the counterweight as Stelios started to climb down through the opening.
Gabriel wrapped his arms around my waist as we pulled on the rope. We exchanged a look. The scene at the festival in Ikaria flashed before my eyes, as did our evening phone call. Carlo cast us a questioning glance and I felt awkward at the thought that he might suspect something was going on between us.
I hurriedly turned to look through the small crack at Stelios, who was trying to see how he could get closer to the house buried behind the rocks and the loose soil. I prayed that Sophie had been able to hide, that she hadn’t been wandering outside the house at the time of the landslide.
I carefully listened for any sounds of life. The silence was strange—this spot usually teamed with birds and wild goats.
A knock on the wooden door and the hollow sound of her voice confirmed that she was inside the house. We all heaved a sigh of relief. Stelios asked us to be quiet so he could talk to her. I asked the three strong men to hold the rope and started my climb, without any great difficulty.
I descended toward Stelios, who was perched against an opening trying to figure out a way to get to the door and get Sophie out. I froze when I heard a rumble and looked up, terrified, fearing another landslide. Thankfully, it was just a gust of wind. As soon as it had blown over, I kept moving and reached my friend. Disappointed, Stelios told me he could not see a way to get her out without the right equipment.
I tried to look for a way, but he was right. Even if all five of us worked together, I wasn’t certain we could shift all the rocks that blocked the front of her house.
I called out her name and her steady response showed that she was calm. Before I had a chance to explain how things were, the same rumble rang out. The worried cries of the three men standing above us made us run to the crack between the rocks and look outside.
A waterspout had suddenly appeared and was sailing down the channel like a ghost ship, raising a column of water up into the clouds. The strong wind rocked the rope, nearly flinging the other against the rocks as they struggled to keep their balance. Luckily, it died down quickly and the funnel vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
It was now clear we could not stay here long, but how could we possibly abandon the poor woman in there?
As soon as all was quiet again, I told her there was not much we could do, but we were all determined to give it our best shot.
I asked for two of them to come down and a third man to stay up for safety. Gabriel came down first, followed by Carlo. Stelios looked at Azim, who had wound the rope around a protrusion on one of the rocks and was pulling at the other end using his body as a counterweight. He didn’t seem pleased that we had left the refugee on his own and grumbled something between gritted teeth.
We started moving the rocks as quickly as we could. We had to be careful how we shifted them. One faulty move and the whole pile could come crashing down on us.
We worked for a while with our bare hands, as no one had thought to bring the gloves from the jeep. Covered in mud, we only paused to hear Sophie tell us she could finally see us through a crack in the window. Stelios declared that there wasn’t enough time to free her today, we would have to leave soon. Gabriel disagreed and said we had to try a little longer. I was impressed by his stance. Sophie was a complete stranger to him and he was acting as one would for a good friend. Carlo followed the exchange without saying a word.
Suddenly it went dark as if someone had switched off the sun. Surprised by the sudden change I looked up and to my horror did not see Azim at his post. When the others realized it too, they dashed to my side. “Damn it,” Stelios shouted.
As if she could detect our frustration, Sophie urged us to leave. She had enough food and water for a few days and maybe it was better to return to the Chora and come back for her when things were calmer.
To leave, though, we would need a sturdy rope. I tugged on the rope lightly to test it and felt no resistance at the other end. I felt it sag and pulled my hand away sharply, as if I had just been stung. Azim had wound it around the rock but hadn’t tied it and now the rope was unraveling and could fall down toward us at any moment, trapping us outside Sophie’s house.
Stelios’ curse pierced the air, so loud I was sure it could be heard all the way to Pera Mera. We saw Aziz appear at the opening gesticulating wildly that we should get up in a hurry. I couldn’t make out his words but I could tell something was terribly wrong.
I asked him to secure the rope and told the others to start climbing. Stelios climbed up first, eager to give Azim a tongue-lashing. Carlo offered his place but I said he should go ahead. Soon enough he was out too. Now they all three stood with their backs half-turned turned, looking in the opposite direction.
“You go ahead,” Gabriel said, gently touching my hand.
Even though I did not want to leave him last, the look in his eyes and my curiosity at the strange posture of the other three won. I started to climb up. I thought I heard Gabriel say something to Sophie behind me, possibly trying to keep her spirits up, and then he gripped the rope and started to climb up as I pulled myself through the opening. I turned and started to pull on the rope to speed up his ascent. Soon, he was standing beside me.
I wanted to ask him what he had told Sophie but the shouts from the other three, who were already forging their way up the mountain, forced us to hurry up behind them. I did not even have time to look in the direction they had been staring at.
Panting, we caught up with them at the peak by the carved stone, trying to stay upright against the blustery wind that was trying to knock us off our feet. I wondered why they had stopped and walked up to them. What I saw coming in from the east turned my blood to ice.
* * *
Over at Pera Mera, a group led by the chief of police hastily walked down the alley that led to the caldera.
A man in visible distress took long strides trying to keep up with the chief, all the time waving his arms wildly as he tried to describe what he had found on the rocks.
