*****
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| Villa In Old Cyprus |
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
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:
United Kingdom ...........................Spain
Also: NOOK BOOK. Plus ALL E-BOOK FLAVORS.
*****
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!
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