Friday, September 27, 2013

LUCKY IN LOVE

But before there was war there was romance.

Lucky reminded Andreas of his promise to take him to Athena’s house and late one afternoon he found himself perched under an olive tree across from Athena’s place, waiting for her father to return home from work

Yorgo’s villa was similar to Lucky’s, except the land area was twice the size and the main house - also made out of hand-hewn yellow limestone blocks - was a bit smaller and a few years older. Several cottages were scattered around the villa, homes for Yorgo’s extended family of brother, sisters and grandparents.

Lucky was so nervous while he waited that he barely noticed the old goat trot out of the heat into the shade. After staring at him suspiciously, it sighed and thumped down beside him. The animal’s rich odor was just making itself known when the boy heard the familiar rumble of the motorbike.

Yorgo didn’t appear surprised when he saw Lucky waiting there. A dazzling smile split his big face. "Lucky, my young friend!" he cried. "Finally, you have come to see Athena!" The boy blushed. Yorgo shook his head, laughing. "My daughter has not left me in peace since the day she met you. Soon, I was going to come and fetch you myself."

Lucky studied his shoe laces. "Athena said she liked the movies… the cinema," he mumbled.

"Then you must offer to take her," Yorgo advised. He slapped Lucky on the back with a meaty hand. "Come, my young friend. I will take you to her myself."

Someone in the villa must have spotted Lucky waiting under the olive tree, because when Yorgo led him through the back door into a large kitchen the room was packed with people. Some sat around the long finely finished wooden table that took up the center of the room. Others were standing, or perched on handmade stools and chairs, that lined two walls. Women, fussing babies, old clucking grannies in black and several men in farm clothes were noisily present - welcoming Lucky as Yorgo escorted him into the kitchen.

Despite the crowd, the first person Lucky noticed was Athena - sitting in a corner on a tall, three-legged stool with a cane seat. Her brothers and sisters were gathered around the stool, teasing her without mercy. She was blushing furiously, but the moment their eyes met it was as if a lightning bolt had struck them simultaneously. Lucky couldn’t move.

Yorgo gently nudged him forward. At the same time, Athena’s grandmother - a striking woman with silver hair and rich black widow’s clothing - grabbed a small silver tray off the table and handed it to Athena. She said something in Greek to the girl, who blushed, but nodded and took the tray. The room grew silent - even the fussing babies were quiet - as Athena approached Lucky with the tray. In the center was a small white cup and saucer, filled with steaming hot Cypriot coffee. The rich fumes made Lucky feel a little dizzy, adding to his sense of unreality. Surrounding the little cup and saucer were small plates, decorated with hand-painted buds. Multi-colored honeyed treats filled each one.

In a husky voice, Athena asked, "You would like coffee, Lucky?"

"Yes, please," was his awkward reply.

There was a buzz as people repeated the exchanged words as if they were of great significance.

Lucky lifted the little cup with trembling fingers. Athena revolved the tray, offering sweets. "Thank you, Athena," Lucky said, reaching. A shock ran through him as their fingers touched.

Yorgo’s big voice boomed from behind the boy. "Lucky wants to ask you something of great importance, Athena,"

Athena’s eyes rose to meet the boy’s. They were huge and expectant. Lucky took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Well," he said, "you told me, you… uh… liked the… uh… uh… cinema."

"Oh, yes, I do!" Athena replied as if movies were the most important thing in the world.

Lucky nodded, encouraged. "So, I was sort of wondering, if uh… if uh…" Then it suddenly became difficult for him continue and his voice trailed off. He cleared his throat, pushing on. "I was thinking if maybe we could go to the cinema together sometime."

An appreciative murmur swept around the room as the words were swiftly translated and passed on.

Athena’s lips parted, teeth flashing. Little stars sparkled in her eyes. "Oh, I’d like to go with you very much!" she said, with as much passion as if he’d invited her to a palace ball.

"Good," Lucky said.

In his confusion, he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her answer so thrilled him that he was unsure how to go on. There was a long, uncomfortable silence until finally, Athena sighed and asked, "When would you like us to go?"

"Oh," Lucky said, feeling like a fool. He tried to sound casual as he said, "How about… oh, I don’t know… would Saturday night be okay?" Despite his tone, the night he’d chosen had great significance to him.

Athena glanced at her father, who gave a slight nod. Another smile lit up her face and she said, "Saturday is fine."

Lucky had checked all the times in advance at the Nicosia Municipal Theatre. He said, "I could pick you up at uh… uh… I mean… would six o’clock be okay? The movie starts at 7. That should give us enough time to get there and buy tickets and… and… well… tickets."

There was a low hissing sound and Athena’s eyes turned abruptly to one side. Lucky followed her gaze and he saw Athena’s grandmother - forbidding in her black dress and regal head crowned with white. The woman whispered something in Greek that Lucky couldn’t understand. Even so, he assumed the worst. An adult was about to spoil all his plans. Wasn’t it always so?

His heart sinking like a ship in stormy seas, he blurted: "Tell her Saturday is my birthday."

Athena translated his request. The old woman smiled and said something to Athena. The girl said to Lucky, "She said congratulations. And asks how old you will be."

"Thirteen," Lucky said. Then, inspired he repeated his answer in Greek - he knew all the numbers by then. "Eemay dega-treeah hronon," he said.

The grandmother’s smile broadened. "Hronia pola, Lucky," she said, dipping her head slightly.

Lucky knew that phrase was a traditional Greek birthday toast, meaning - "Many years more."

"Efharistoh, Ya-Yah," he replied with enthusiasm. "Ya-yah" was the word for grandmother. Lucky had heard it used in polite conversation when addressing elderly women of respect. So he assumed that it was appropriate here.

The whole room exploded with laughter. The family was delighted he’d been going to so much trouble to learn their language. And calling the grandmother "ya-yah" had been the perfect thing to do.

Lucky said, "Does that mean you can go, then?"

Athena hesitated and Lucky started getting worried again. Then, she asked, "Can you take my Ya-Yah also?" Lucky frowned. This was an odd twist. Athena misinterpreted his frown and blushed. "We are more formal in Cyprus than in America," she said. Then, turning redder still, "A girl cannot be alone with a boy at night - unless she’… she’s…"

The light suddenly dawned for Lucky. "A chaperone?" he asked. "You must have a chaperone?" Athena nodded, embarrassed. Lucky grinned, then turned and bowed low before the old woman. "It would be my pleasure, Yah-Yah," he said as formally as he could.

Now it was the grandmother’s turn to blush and the whole room rang with laughter. Lucky had passed the test.
*****
Soon came the fateful night. He wore his best suit and used newly won skills to tire an Windsor knot. His mother and Brosina fussed over him, then in a blur he was at Athena’s house and she was a thing of beauty in blue velvet, with lace at the bodice and kid-leather gloves. The whole family fussed, pictures were taken and they were swept into Nikos’s waiting taxi, washed and polished for the occasion.

And then everything slowed down and the young couple sat there silently, each wondering what the other was thinking, as the taxi purred along the dark, silent highway toward the distant lights of Nicosia. Nikos switched on the radio and a popular romantic Greek ballad sounded softly:

Ena felakia eena lego, boli leego.
Theo felakia eena lego, del-ah-boh.
Tria felakia eena lego, boli leego.
Tho-se-mu tesira - ella tha-su-doah!

Lucky relaxed. He knew the song well. Thea, Brosina’s young assistant, sang it all the time. Loosely translated, the words meant: "One kiss is so little, so little. Two kisses are just as little. Three kisses are so little, so little. But give me four - then come closer and we shall see."

Near the song’s end, Athena’s gloved hand closed on Lucky’s and she whisper/sang: "Ena feelakia, eena leego, boli leego…"

Lucky suddenly found it hard to breathe. Then he gasped as Nikos shot the cab through the middle of dense, bicycle bell-ringing, car-honking traffic and Nicosia was all around them, full of the exotic sights, sounds and smells of the ancient city. The taxi swept up before the theater - joining a line of others cabs dropping people off. It was an elegant building - three stories high with white Greek-style columns and tasteful decorations.

Nikos leaped from cab and grandly handed out Athena’s Ya-Yah and then Athena, herself. At that moment Lucky’s hotel-bred instincts came to his rescue. As he climbed out he pulled himself together and quietly slipped Nikos a few shillings to entertain himself while he was waiting. He leaned close to whisper: "Please, Nikos, would it be too much trouble for you to help me with the tickets?" At the same time he slipped Nikos a few more shillings.

Nikos chuckled and whispered: "I will say that the great American gentleman, Mister Lucky, is about to honor them with his presence."

With that Nikos raced up to the box office and pounded on the side door until someone opened it. A hurried conversation ensued. A tip was passed. Lucky saw a young woman glance curiously over at him, nod, then turn to consult with Nikos. Lucky’s was fully alert now. All his faculties were returned to him - in spades. Growing bolder by the minute, he offered one arm first to the older woman and the other to Athena. And then, quite grandly, he led them toward the box office, his steps growing lighter, his posture straighter with every step he took.

At the box office a young, very pretty assistant manager, swept them past a marveling crowd. Ya-Yah’s eyes were burning with delight and Athena had a smile of supreme satisfaction and she shook out her dark hair, the perfume washing over Lucky, and squeezed his arm.

The assistant manager turned them over to the chief usher. Lucky slipped him several coins and the man straightened like a soldier called to formal attention by his beloved general. Athena and her grandmother murmured in surprise as the usher led them not to the ground floor seating, but straight to the wide, richly carpeted stairway that spiraled to the higher level where the box seats were.

Lucky had reserved the best booth in the house, which had cost him nearly two dollars, American. A small door led into the booth - which was in the exact center of the theater, offering a perfect view. The usher opened it, revealing several thickly-upholstered chairs with serving tables sitting next to each one. In front was a small sofa, just big enough for two. Athena’s grandmother whispered something to the usher and he nodded - seating the couple on the sofa and the grandmother in the back so they could have privacy, but still be under her watchful eye. A menu was presented. Lucky coolly ordered a small pitcher of white wine for Ya-Yah, two frosted colas for himself and Athena and three little trays of delicacies to munch on during the film.

This time he slipped the usher a few cigarettes to assure continued attentive service. The man beamed, bowed low, then hurried away to do Lucky’s bidding. Soon he returned with a tray of drink and food. He also brought two small vases with freshly cut flowers for Athena and her grandmother. Lucky paid the bill and made sure to tip him again. The usher thanked Lucky profusely then indicated a little buzzer set in the wall next to Lucky. It was to call for service should he require anything else.

Bold and confident as he’d been while arranging things, Lucky still couldn’t overcome his shyness with Athena.. The romantic atmosphere of the theater only added to his difficulties. It looked like a grand opera house, instead of a movie hall, with heavy red brocade curtains and gilded decorations. The booths on the balcony level hung above a large, unruly crowd. Hawkers of peanuts and drinks strolled up and down the aisles shouting their wares as if they were in a ballpark, instead of a theater. Lucky wracked his brains, trying to think of what to say. Then, once again, he felt Athena’s hand slip into his. This time she’d removed her glove and the sensation of her bare hand touching his was thrilling.

She leaned close and whispered, "It is your birthday, is it not?"

Lucky nodded. "Yes," he said. Then, the shyness lessened and he grinned. He waved his free hand, taking in the theater. "Thanks for coming to my party."

Athena laughed. "I have a gift for you," she said. Then, with a teasing smile that nearly stopped Lucky’s heart, she added, "But you must wait until after the film." And she gave his hand a squeeze.

Then lights dimmed, the audience noise diminished and there was a swell of music. Lucky and Athena turned just in time to see the curtains part and the white screen glow into magical life. The film Lucky had chosen was "The Man In The Eiffel Tower," starring Charles Laughton and Franchot Tone. The film had been dubbed into French, but the whole bottom of the screen was filled with subtitles. They were stacked in this order: Greek, Turkish, Italian, Spanish, German and at the very bottom, English. That made it easy for Lucky to find his own language and follow the dialogue.

As the film played on, Athena snuggled up to him and the closeness of her body and her perfume made him feel as if he’d been enveloped in a fantasy world as magical as the story playing before his eyes. He even dared to put an arm around her. She not only didn’t object, but snuggled closer still, holding his hand with both of hers. Her grandmother hissed a warning, but it was as if it came a far away dream that did not involve him. He had vague awareness of Athena pulling away for a brief moment and turning to confront her grandmother with a retort. Then she tucked herself back under his arm. And there was no further hissing.

Then, too soon, came the exciting conclusion: The canny thief and killer, Franchot Tone, cornered and fleeing up the Eiffel Tower. The equally canny policeman, Charles Laughton, in close pursuit. For the rest of his life, Lucky would never forget the penultimate scene when Tone arrived at the restaurant at the top, which overlooked all of Paris.

As the scene played out, he whispered to Athena, "I was in that restaurant a few months ago."

His comment was rewarded with a stealthy kiss on his cheek - one that her grandmother wouldn’t notice. Athena’s warm, perfumed breath filled him until he thought he would burst.

Then came the big moment: Tone, pulling out a huge sheaf of bills - his stolen loot - ordered champagne and caviar sandwiches. He insisted that the waiter direct the chef to make the caviar thick and the toasted bread thin and fresh. As for champagne, he said it must be the best the restaurant had to offer. While this last meal was being delivered he set fire to a ten thousand franc note to light a fine cigar. Then he calmly sipped his champagne, enjoying his sandwiches, as well as his cigar. And all the while Laughton tightened the noose. To Lucky it was a rebellious act of such elegance, such disdain for the hard fast rules of this old world, that it made him want to jump into the scene and share Tone’s tragic fate.

Then the film was over, the music playing, credits rolling on the screen. But the lights were still low. Athena pulled Lucky’s head down below the top of the seat. She whispered: "Thank you for the party." And kissed him full on the mouth. The kiss lasted for many long seconds and it was deep and rich and sweet. All the while, Ya-yah hissed and hissed and hissed. But neither one of them paid her any mind. Holding that kiss as long as possible. Then the lights came up and Athena gently pulled away. She sat up straight, decorous and maidenly, fussing with her hair and gathering her gloves and her purse. But she didn’t put them on. Instead, as they left the booth, she held Lucky’s hand very tight - her flesh burning into his.

Then they were in the taxi and all was silent, except for the music on the radio. After a time, Athena unsnapped her purse and took out a tiny packet.

"Oh, how foolish of me," she said. "I nearly forgot your birthday gift."

She handed Lucky the packet, which turned out to be wrapped in a lace handkerchief that smelled of Athena’s perfume. He unwrapped the lace and a small locket fell into his hand, glowing gold in the moonlight.

Athena reached over to press a button at the top. "There," she said, and the locket fell open.

Inside was a dark curl of hair, tied together with red silk thread. Lucky lifted the lock of hair out and the perfume became stronger. He sniffed the curl and it was as if Athena herself rose up to beguile him. Then he looked at the locket and although it was dark - with only the moonlight and the beams of passing cars for illumination - he could make out a tiny picture of Athena fixed into a little frame.

Lucky was overcome. His throat felt thick, his eyes burned. And he croaked: "I’ll keep this with me always, Athena. Always!"

There were more stolen kisses, then, too soon, Lucky found himself escorting Athena and Ya-Yah to the villa. They said their good nights and suddenly Lucky found himself staring at the closing door, feeling quite lonely.

Nikos put a fatherly hand on the boy’s shoulder. "You did well, Mister Lucky," he said. Then he chuckled. "It was much better than my first time." Another laugh. "That one is my wife, now. And she has given me the gift of three strong sons and two beautiful daughters."

Somewhere not far off an owl hooted. And the night was so magical that Lucky wondered if it might not be the goddess, Athena, herself. "It’s the Lady Athena," Nikos said, very low. "I think she likes you, my young friend. She’s promising many good things."

The owl hooted again, the sounding echoing through the warm night.

"What’s she saying now?" Lucky asked, feeling like he was floating through a dream.

"It’s a warning, I think," Nikos said. "She says be careful of the heart of the girl who was named for her."

Lucky broke out of his reverie. He snorted. "There’s no such thing as gods and goddesses," he said.

Nikos shrugged. "Maybe not in the United States of the Americas," he said. "But in Cyprus, Mister Lucky, the gods are everywhere."

NEXT: RUSSIAN JAMMERS AND A VISIT TO A CIA BASE

*****
NEW STEN SHORT STORY!!!!
STEN AND THE STAR WANDERERS


BASED ON THE CLASSIC STEN SERIES by Allan Cole & Chris Bunch: Fresh from their mission to pacify the Wolf Worlds, Sten and his Mantis Team encounter a mysterious ship that has been lost among the stars for thousands of years. At first, everyone aboard appears to be long dead. Then a strange Being beckons, pleading for help. More disturbing: the presence of AM2, a strategically vital fuel tightly controlled by their boss - The Eternal Emperor. They are ordered to retrieve the remaining AM2 "at all costs." But once Sten and his heavy worlder sidekick, Alex Kilgour, board the ship they must dare an out of control defense system that attacks without warning as they move through dark warrens filled with unimaginable horrors. When they reach their goal they find that in the midst of all that death are the "seeds" of a lost civilization. 

*****



Here's where you can buy it worldwide in both paperback and Kindle editions:

U.S. .............................................France
United Kingdom ...........................Spain
Canada ........................................ Italy
Germany ..................................... Japan
Brazil .......................................... India


*****
LUCKY IN CYPRUS: IT'S A BOOK!


Here's where to get the paperback & Kindle editions worldwide: 


Here's what readers say about Lucky In Cyprus:
  • "Bravo, Allan! When I finished Lucky In Cyprus I wept." - Julie Mitchell, Hot Springs, Texas
  • "Lucky In Cyprus brought back many memories... A wonderful book. So many shadows blown away!" - Freddy & Maureen Smart, Episkopi,Cyprus. 
  • "... (Reading) Lucky In Cyprus has been a humbling, haunting, sobering and enlightening experience..." - J.A. Locke, Bookloons.com
*****
TALES OF THE BLUE MEANIE
Audiobook Version Coming Soon!

Venice Boardwalk Circa 1969

In the depths of the Sixties and The Days Of Rage, a young newsman, accompanied by his pregnant wife and orphaned teenage brother, creates a Paradise of sorts in a sprawling Venice Beach community of apartments, populated by students, artists, budding scientists and engineers lifeguards, poets, bikers with  a few junkies thrown in for good measure. The inhabitants come to call the place “Pepperland,” after the Beatles movie, “Yellow Submarine.” Threatening this paradise is  "The Blue Meanie,"  a crazy giant of a man so frightening that he eventually even scares himself. Here's where to buy the book. 

*****

***** 
STEN #1: NOW IN SPANISH!


Diaspar Magazine - the best SF magazine in South America - is publishing the first novel in the Sten series in four  episodes. Here are the links: 

REMEMBER - IT'S FREE!

Friday, September 20, 2013

The Cry For 'Enosis" - For Freedom

*****
'Enosis' Shouted From A Mountaintop

***
Andreas' favorite “thinking place,” as he called it, was in the shadow of the huge boulder that overlooked the village. Beneath the boulder was a cave with strange markings on the walls. The hill the boulder was perched upon was covered with grass, already turning green from recent rains. Flowers of every color and variety were sprouting through the greenery to the delight of the animals who grazed there.

The field stretching out behind the boulder was a dangerous place for the unwary - it was pock-marked with large rectangular pits. All of them were uniformly the same: about seven feet long, four feet wide and six feet deep – like slightly oversize graves. When the grass grew tall the pits were nearly invisible, so you had to watch where you put your feet when strolling through the spring-fed meadow.

The Cypriot teenager said the pits were the remains of an ancient fortress that had once guarded this hilltop. He said Richard the Third had made the fortress one of his many redoubts when he made Cyprus his base during the Crusades. The spring that fed the meadow had nourished his army while they nursed wounds and gathered strength for a new assault on their Moslem enemies. Pallouriotissa had been a rich village during that time, Andreas told Lucky, from hosting King Richard and his soldiers.

Lucky found Andreas sprawled at the entrance of the cave, dreamily examining a book Lucky had loaned him. It was an illustrated copy of “Betty Zane,” written by Zane Grey, a distant relation on his father’s side of the family. The book was a fictional account of the true adventures of the author’s ancestor, Elizabeth Grey - a heroine of one of the last battles of the American Revolution. A girl who had “run for the (gun) powder,” to save the day.

When Andreas saw Lucky, he sighed and closed the book reverently. “What a story,” he said. Lucky had learned that Andreas was a victim of hemophilia – a disease that could result in uncontrollable bleeding, and so Andreas had to be extra careful not to hurt himself. Books were outlet for all the physical frustration he felt. And books were something Lucky had a ready supply of, being an ardent reader himself.

Suddenly Andreas bolted upright. “Do you think,” he said quite passionately, “if Cyprus had a revolution that the Americans might help us against the damned English?”

At the moment, Lucky had no patience for that kind of talk. He waved the question away and sat next to Andreas. From Lucky’s manner Andreas could see that he was troubled. He listened closely to Lucky’s account of his conversation with Derek and of Lucky’s previous problems at the school.

When the American was done, Andreas leaned back against the boulder, deep in thought. Lucky became impatient.

“What should I do?” He has absolute trust in Andreas. The boy was three years his senior and so it was only logical that he possessed superior knowledge about such matters. “I can’t worry about Derek,” Lucky went on. “He’s leaving the school. But what about me? How do I keep them from ganging up on me?”

To Lucky’s great relief, Andreas grinned and made a motion of dismissal. “Do not concern yourself, Lucky,” he said. “The prohvleema will be solved by my good friend, Sandros.”

Lucky hope’s rose. Sandros was the village thug. Although he was small and only sixteen, he was so fierce, so unforgiving, that even grown men did not cross him. When he was with a group of boys he regaled them with marvelously violent scenarios. One of which involved the destruction of the local police station. 

Like most police stations in Cyprus, the British had staffed the one in Pallouriotissa with Turkish Cypriots. Apparently it was the colonial policy of the British to make policemen of the people the locals feared worst. In Cyprus, it was the Turks – who had ruled the island brutally for several hundred years during the days of the Ottoman Empire.

So when Sandros predicted that “come the revolution” - he and his comrades would attack the police outpost with Molotov cocktails all the village boys cheered. And they applauded loudly when he described in detail how frightened the policemen would be. How he and the other revolutionaries would make the cops shriek like women and make their underwear brown with skada.

The cause was Enosis. And each day Lucky spent on the island the cry of “Enosis” grew louder and more desperate. Enosis meant freedom for Cyprus. Some versions of Enosis envisioned rejoining the island nation with its ancestral parent – Greece. Others involved various forms of independence and alliances too numerous for Lucky to consider. 

Mainly, it was the idea of independence that caught his young imagination - however it might be accomplished. Fire bombs seemed rather extreme, but when the Russians and the Americans were waving around bombs which could blow up whole cities, what was a little adobe police station? He didn’t think about the people inside. What a strange old world this was turning out to be.

It became just a little less strange when Sandros heard of Lucky’s problems with the British boys’ school and proposed an immediate solution. He said what Lucky needed was an edge over his enemies – a device he called a “comrade’s best friend.” Well, he said it in Greek, but that was his meaning.

Thinking at first that he meant firebombing the Thomas Arnold Academy For Boys, Lucky got a little concerned. “I don’t want to go too far,” he said. “I don’t want to burn the place down. I just want them to leave me alone.”

“Of course, Lucky,” Andreas said with a reassuring grin. “Sandros knows just what you require in your war against the English. Not to worry, my friend. Not to worry.”

*****

NEXT: LUCKY IN LOVE

*****
NEW STEN SHORT STORY!!!!
STEN AND THE STAR WANDERERS


BASED ON THE CLASSIC STEN SERIES by Allan Cole & Chris Bunch: Fresh from their mission to pacify the Wolf Worlds, Sten and his Mantis Team encounter a mysterious ship that has been lost among the stars for thousands of years. At first, everyone aboard appears to be long dead. Then a strange Being beckons, pleading for help. More disturbing: the presence of AM2, a strategically vital fuel tightly controlled by their boss - The Eternal Emperor. They are ordered to retrieve the remaining AM2 "at all costs." But once Sten and his heavy worlder sidekick, Alex Kilgour, board the ship they must dare an out of control defense system that attacks without warning as they move through dark warrens filled with unimaginable horrors. When they reach their goal they find that in the midst of all that death are the "seeds" of a lost civilization. 
*****
MY HOLLYWOOD MISADVENTURES
Audiobook coming soon!


Here's where you can buy it worldwide in both paperback and Kindle editions:

U.S. .............................................France
United Kingdom ...........................Spain
Canada ........................................ Italy
Germany ..................................... Japan
Brazil .......................................... India


*****
LUCKY IN CYPRUS: IT'S A BOOK!


Here's where to get the paperback & Kindle editions worldwide: 


Here's what readers say about Lucky In Cyprus:
  • "Bravo, Allan! When I finished Lucky In Cyprus I wept." - Julie Mitchell, Hot Springs, Texas
  • "Lucky In Cyprus brought back many memories... A wonderful book. So many shadows blown away!" - Freddy & Maureen Smart, Episkopi,Cyprus. 
  • "... (Reading) Lucky In Cyprus has been a humbling, haunting, sobering and enlightening experience..." - J.A. Locke, Bookloons.com
*****
TALES OF THE BLUE MEANIE
Audiobook Version Coming Soon!

Venice Boardwalk Circa 1969

In the depths of the Sixties and The Days Of Rage, a young newsman, accompanied by his pregnant wife and orphaned teenage brother, creates a Paradise of sorts in a sprawling Venice Beach community of apartments, populated by students, artists, budding scientists and engineers lifeguards, poets, bikers with  a few junkies thrown in for good measure. The inhabitants come to call the place “Pepperland,” after the Beatles movie, “Yellow Submarine.” Threatening this paradise is  "The Blue Meanie,"  a crazy giant of a man so frightening that he eventually even scares himself. Here's where to buy the book. 

*****

***** 
STEN #1: NOW IN SPANISH!


Diaspar Magazine - the best SF magazine in South America - is publishing the first novel in the Sten series in four  episodes. Here are the links: 

REMEMBER - IT'S FREE!

Friday, September 13, 2013

THE AMAZING BROSINA

Lucky had Nikos drop him off on the highway so he could approach his house from the back – a habit he’d developed in recent days.

His father had become increasingly unstable since their move from the hotel. In the old bad days before he joined the Agency, Lucky’s father had behaved like Jekyll and Hyde, with alcohol acting as the lab potion that turned him from the kindly Dr. Jekyll into the ghastly Mr. Hyde. Except, in his father’s case, he was never really that kindly. Even sober he could suddenly lash out with a terrible fury and cause real injury.

But from the moment he’d joined the CIA, he seemed to have left all that behind him. Although many times Lucky had sensed a barely controlled fury boiling beneath the surface, he had come to think – or desperately hope, actually – that his father had somehow been cured by his Agency training. For a long time alcohol seemed to make him only jolly, not violent. Then, without warning, he reverted to his old ways and so Lucky never knew exactly what was waiting for him. Now he never came at the house directly, but slipped through the field behind the villa so he could climb up onto the garage roof to check things out before dropping into the garden below.

On this particular day, the two maids - Brosina and Thea - were hanging Charlie’s diapers on the wash line. Brosina, the head maid, was a tall, angular woman in her late 30’s. Her part-time assistant was Thea, an always-smiling village girl of about nineteen. Near the two women was Lucky’s little brother, asleep in a baby carriage covered by a white net to keep the orchard insects away.

Severe as she looked, Brosina mothered Lucky and his little brother with every ounce of her being. She was somewhat of an outcast in the village, since she was not only a spinster in her middle thirties, but a deaf mute. Lucky and Brosina had a warning system worked out so he would know if it was safe to enter the house. His father had been at work for two weeks straight, arriving the previous night to begin his leave in the foulest of moods.

Apparently things weren’t going well in the CIA’s Cold War with the Russians. Actually, from the news Lucky had heard on the radio – much discussed by his father and his colleagues - that whole summer had been nothing but one crisis after another, ranging from riots in Egypt and a mass exodus of refugees pouring out of East Berlin, to a breakdown in the Korean talks to end a war in which 125,000 Americans and many thousands of allies had already been killed or wounded. Then there’d been the violence in Africa, which everybody blamed on the Communists, and talk that now that Russia had the atomic bomb maybe the U.S. should strike first, before Stalin had a chance to use it.

Lucky’s father joked that it was no wonder people were seeing things like flying saucers all over America. "An invasion by aliens must seem like a welcome relief," he said. But such joking didn’t carry on over into his father’s dreams. Night after night, Lucky heard him wake up shouting from nightmares. Last night had been particularly bad – Lucky heard him shouting somebody’s name, begging the person to "look out, look out, look out!" He hadn’t appeared in the morning for breakfast and it was Lucky’s desperate hope that he’d sleep straight through for a couple of days, which he frequently did when pulling such long, hard shifts. The worst thing that could happen was if he decided to go on a bender. Then there was no telling what he would do.

Lucky crossed his fingers, hoping against hope. He looked at the house – there wasn’t a sign of anyone about. But that didn’t mean anything. His father could be sitting there silently brooding and drinking.

He took a deep breath - there was only one safe way to find out. Since Brosina couldn’t hear, Lucky tossed a pebble near Thea, to get her attention. She quickly looked up at the garage roof and spotted him. Thea got Brosina’s attention, then indicated Lucky on the garage roof. Brosina put a finger to her lips, signaling Lucky that he should be silent. The boy’s heart gave a jump. Obviously, all was not well. Then she waved for him to come quickly, indicating the door that led into the cellar, which Brosina had left partly open.

Lucky dropped to the ground then scurried to the cellar and through the door. Meanwhile, Thea gently rocked the carriage, humming a soothing song so Charlie wouldn’t wake up. If he did and spotted Lucky he might shout out his name. Their father, a man with very sharp ears, would most certainly hear the shout. As Lucky hurried into the cellar, Brosina hastened after him, switching on the lights and closing the door. Because of Brosina’s deafness she hadn’t been allowed to attend school. Even so, she was so was intelligent that she taught herself to read and write and she was able to make sounds that, with a little imagination, one could recognize as Greek words. She used a combination of these sounds - frequently very loud and startling - and an elaborate system of hand signals and body motions of her own invention to communicate.

"Eee, ee," she said - meaning Lucky, which was the part of Lucky’s name she could make out through lip reading. Brosina pointed at the ceiling of the cellar - indicating the main house.

She waved that finger in a very forbidding way. "Kahk! Kahk!" she croaked, a little like a crow. "Kahk! Kahk!" Lucky knew she meant "kahkos," the Greek word for "bad." Then she made her fingers into a glass and tipped them up to her lips. She twisted her face into a dull, sullen look and rocked back and forth in a clumsy manner. Translation: Lucky’s father was not only drunk, but he was in a mean mood. But to make certain Lucky got the point, she once again shook a scolding finger at the ceiling, saying, "Kahk! Kahk!"

Lucky nodded, indicating that he understood. And he held both hands palms up, lifting his shoulders and tilting his head to the side: a question in Brosina’s invented sign language.

"Mahna?" he asked. "Mahna?" Meaning, where was his mother.

Brosina made car driving motions - two hands gripping an imaginary wheel. Then she made her face look girlish, put three fingers to her lips and tittered. Followed by more driving motions. Translation: his mother was out with her friends. Obviously, she didn’t know the state Lucky’s father was in. Otherwise she’d have either stayed home, or taken Charlie with her – along with one of the maids to help care for the baby.

Brosina gave an exaggerated sigh – it rose from her sturdy, flat-heeled shoes; past the gray-blue striped maid’s uniform with its enormous pockets and modest neckline; beyond the little gold earrings twinkling in her lobes. Rising, rising, all the way to the large bun of gathered hair at top of her head - pinned in place by two ivory hair pins that were her most prized possessions.

Then she looked down at him, huge dark eyes as wise and sad as all of Greek antiquity. Suddenly, she made a strange sound and embraced Lucky, pulling him tight. After awhile she let him go, a little embarrassed at showing so much emotion and she became all business. First she motioned him over to the enormous, rough-plank table that was the main feature of the little used second kitchen that resided in the cellar.

The other sections of the cellar consisted of big wash tubs bolted to the walls. An electric pump fed the tubs with well water. Nearby was an ancient wood-burning stove and an old wringer washing machine. Off to one side was a small room that contained a shower/toilet. This consisted of a hole in floor, with raised areas of cement to brace the feet of someone doing their personal business. That business dumped directly into the cesspool without flushing. Plus there was a shower head fixed high on the wall, so one could bathe as well.

In the main room there was a little pile of clothing on the table, topped by a pair of battered shoes. These were Lucky’s after school clothes. Brosina had gathered together enough things to dress him from the skin out. Brusquely, Brosina shoved the clothes into Lucky’s arms then imperiously directed him to the shower. She sniffed at him, wrinkling her nose as if he smelled dirty. Her orders were clear: bathe and change!

When Lucky had finished and had changed the demeaning school uniform for a pair of sturdy dungarees that covered his legs down to the ankles, he felt like a new and much more confident person. Thoughts and fears of his father were pushed aside to be dealt with later. Right now his stomach was rumbling at the wonderful smells that had filled the cellar.

Brosina knew how little he ate at the British school and had cooked a delicious lunch. She clucked at the boy, pushing him into a chair and making motions for him to eat. Lucky beamed at the meal spread out before him. It consisted of hard boiled eggs, garlic, onions and various spices steeped in olive oil. Slices of eggs were piled on thick wedges of toasted black bread. And the whole thing was surrounded by tomato slices, Greek olives and a wedge of lemon. Brosina crumbled pure white goat cheese over the dish, sprinkled a little olive oil and vinegar on top - then sat back to smile on the boy while he ate.

She’d mixed him up a pitcher of orange squash to wash down his meal. The pitcher sat in a bucket of ice. Brosina absolutely adored ice and served it every chance she had. Since coming to Cyprus Lucky had learned that ice was for rich people. In the winter the poor got it as hail, or snow, or frozen ground to walk upon on the way to work. In the summer they got it not at all, or, only for a price so dear people considered a very expensive medicine for fever victims.

Brosina’s favorite task was filling the many ice cube trays with sanitized water and putting them in the freezer. She liked to hum a discordant tune as she accomplished this chore and whenever she took the trays out - the water turned into ice cubes - she always shouted in great delight and surprise. "Ee-pah!" she’d shriek. "Ee-pah!" Which was her way of saying it was ice from the gods.

As Lucky ate his lunch, washed down by chilled orange squash, Brosina busied herself with her other chores. Today she had the portable pasteurizer going as well as several steam kettles of boiling water. The milk was delivered daily by an old man, who carried it in goatskin bags with the wool still intact on the outside. The milk tended to taste like whatever was most prominent in the meadows where the cows grazed. Like wild onions, or mustard, which were currently in season. The milk was not pasteurized - which was true of almost all milk in Cyprus in those days, so it was dangerous to drink. Some people – such as the colonial overseers - claimed the Cypriots were immune to organisms that infected the milk. In fact, the Cypriots were forced to play milk roulette - and got sick just like anyone else. Children and old people frequently died.

Lucky’s family, like all the Americans, had brought a portable pasteurizer with them from the States. The machine looked like a large restaurant-size coffee maker. It could handle up to five gallons at a time. Milk was dumped into it. A timer was set and the milk was raised to a scientifically indicated bacteria-killing heating point and kept there until the timer went off, announcing that all the organisms were dead.

Brosina and Thea spent a great deal of time working that pasteurizer. They also boiled many gallons of drinking water every day, since the well water was also unsafe. Lucky’s father’d had it tested by the CIA medical lab at the base and the report said it was full of deadly bacteria - mostly from leaking septic tanks. With rare exception, all the water on the island was unsafe.

When Lucky finished his meal he caught Brosina’s attention and said, "Thank you, Brosina."

She frowned, not understanding anything but the mention of her name. Lucky corrected himself. And in Greek he said, quite slowly, so she could read his lips: "Efharistoh, Brosina."

Brosina smiled a wide bright smile. "Po-tah!" she said. "Po-tah!" Accompanied with a most elegant gesture with her hands and bowing of her head. Her way of saying "it’s nothing." In proper Greek: "teepotah."

But it wasn’t nothing. Brosina had not only saved him from his father’s wrath, but it was on day when he very much needed to concentrate on his troubles at the Thomas Arnold Academy For Boys.

She shooed him off, telling him to look for a light in the cellar window so he’d know when it was safe to come home. Then she grinned mischievously and went to the liquor storage cabinet, pulling her heavy key ring from her pocket. Brosina was the proud sergeant of all the keys to the many locked cabinets resident in the villa. She opened the cabinet and fetched out a brown bottle with a long neck. Brosina showed it to Lucky, then held three fingers to her lips to indicate giggling:

It was Brosina’s big joke.

She pointed to the ceiling and strode around, aping a drunken man swigging at the bottle, getting drunker and drunker. Finally, she collapsed on the table, made a pillow of her hands, closed her eyes and gave a loud snore. Then she sat up, laughing silently. Mouth wide, but not a sound coming out as she held her sides as if to ease the pain of her mirth. Lucky laughed with her. The message was plain. Brosina was going to offer a bottle of very strong Greek brandy - Metaxa - to Lucky’s father. With little coaxing he’d get so drunk that he’d pass out and no longer be a bother to anyone. Until tomorrow, at least. But Lucky would face tomorrow when it came.

A moment later he was slipping out of the cellar and shinnying up a thick grape vine to the garage roof. From there, he leaped down into the field and set off to find Andreas.
*****

NEXT: THE CRY FOR 'ENOSIS' - FOR FREEDOM
*****
NEW STEN SHORT STORY!!!!
STEN AND THE STAR WANDERERS


BASED ON THE CLASSIC STEN SERIES by Allan Cole & Chris Bunch: Fresh from their mission to pacify the Wolf Worlds, Sten and his Mantis Team encounter a mysterious ship that has been lost among the stars for thousands of years. At first, everyone aboard appears to be long dead. Then a strange Being beckons, pleading for help. More disturbing: the presence of AM2, a strategically vital fuel tightly controlled by their boss - The Eternal Emperor. They are ordered to retrieve the remaining AM2 "at all costs." But once Sten and his heavy worlder sidekick, Alex Kilgour, board the ship they must dare an out of control defense system that attacks without warning as they move through dark warrens filled with unimaginable horrors. When they reach their goal they find that in the midst of all that death are the "seeds" of a lost civilization. 
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MY HOLLYWOOD MISADVENTURES
Audiobook coming soon!


Here's where you can buy it worldwide in both paperback and Kindle editions:

U.S. .............................................France
United Kingdom ...........................Spain
Canada ........................................ Italy
Germany ..................................... Japan
Brazil .......................................... India


*****
LUCKY IN CYPRUS: IT'S A BOOK!


Here's where to get the paperback & Kindle editions worldwide: 


Here's what readers say about Lucky In Cyprus:
  • "Bravo, Allan! When I finished Lucky In Cyprus I wept." - Julie Mitchell, Hot Springs, Texas
  • "Lucky In Cyprus brought back many memories... A wonderful book. So many shadows blown away!" - Freddy & Maureen Smart, Episkopi,Cyprus. 
  • "... (Reading) Lucky In Cyprus has been a humbling, haunting, sobering and enlightening experience..." - J.A. Locke, Bookloons.com
*****
TALES OF THE BLUE MEANIE
Audiobook Version Coming Soon!

Venice Boardwalk Circa 1969

In the depths of the Sixties and The Days Of Rage, a young newsman, accompanied by his pregnant wife and orphaned teenage brother, creates a Paradise of sorts in a sprawling Venice Beach community of apartments, populated by students, artists, budding scientists and engineers lifeguards, poets, bikers with  a few junkies thrown in for good measure. The inhabitants come to call the place “Pepperland,” after the Beatles movie, “Yellow Submarine.” Threatening this paradise is  "The Blue Meanie,"  a crazy giant of a man so frightening that he eventually even scares himself. Here's where to buy the book. 

*****

***** 
STEN #1: NOW IN SPANISH!


Diaspar Magazine - the best SF magazine in South America - is publishing the first novel in the Sten series in four  episodes. Here are the links: 

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