Read Online The Unquiet Mind (The Greek Village Collection Book 8) by Sara Alexi - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sara Alexi
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Houses with bright blue shutters. And then?
‘Hey Yanni, you’re awake. Come on my man, let’s go.’ The light from the opened door blinds him. ‘We must eat and celebrate.’ A hand grabs his arm and pulls. He shakes it off with a flex of his bicep. The hand has a weak grip.
‘Oh, you’re not one of these people that are all grumpy when they wake, are you? Come on.’
Like the bucket falling from the well’s edge and spilling the water over the parched ground, in an instant, everything returns and soaks in. Being met in the village square by Babis, being hauled into the kafeneio, the open floor-to-ceiling glass doors, clusters of tables surrounded by work-worn faces. So many faces. Babis introducing to everyone his second cousin from the island. Unfamiliar face after unfamiliar face offering to shake his hand, an ouzo thrust into his open palm and a hearty slap on the back from Babis as he takes a sip which makes him gulp and the shot goes down in one swallow. A joke being made of islanders drinking, another glass in his hand, Babis telling expectant faces exaggerated tales of their brief meetings when they were boys, Yanni so much taller and older and wiser. On and on, Babis talked. What could have been said in five words took him twenty minutes. Yanni was tired from the jiggling and pounding and shouting of the journey, so many people, so much that was new and then with Babis droning on, his eyes closed in reaction to everything, shutting down, blocking it out, another slap on the back, another mouthful and then nothing seemed so bad; in fact, he felt quite pleasant for a while. Another glass in his hand feeling smooth and round, the burn in his throat. No idea what was going on, someone said … No, that was Hectoras on the island—on a different day, maybe he … No, it will not come.
‘Come on now, Yanni, whilst you’ve been snoring all afternoon, I’ve been working, another sale going through, but now I am hungry. Come, the food is on me, my friend. Let’s go!’
‘Water,’ is all Yanni can say.
Babis leaves the room and returns presently. ‘Here.’ He hands him a glass of water. ‘I did think you were chucking it back my friend, but who was I to say? First you seemed all strung out, tense, tongue tied and then after a couple of ouzos, you found your stride. I couldn’t keep up. Anyway, it’s great you are here. Come, it’s late enough; let’s go eat.’
‘Could we not stay here?’ Yanni says, not quite sure where ‘here’ is, but the quiet seems preferable to anything he can recall of the mainland so far. How many times has he put his hands to his ears, so many people he could no longer tell them apart, and that bus, that jolting about, the speed with which the land passed, who could think that was a good idea? So many people pressed in so close together, and why was that man given such a hard time when he wanted his goat to ride with him, when there was a woman on the seat next to him with a dog on her lap? And that other woman who talked and talked and when she had worn one person to the point of getting off the bus, she began on another and nothing she said had any practical use to anyone listening. Yanni shakes his head gently to try to clear the fog.
‘Well it’s a bit of a mess here at the moment ... What with Mama going up to her sister’s in Athens. Thought she would only be a weekend, but she’s been gone two months already.’ He picks up a shirt and a tea towel and puts them on the back of a chair by the door. The chair already has an upturned bowl on it, which is none too clean. ‘But Auntie is getting better, thanks be to God, so we must not complain.’ He crosses himself and gathers together various parts of a newspaper that has spread over the floor. He folds it haphazardly and puts it on the upturned bowl, which it promptly falls off. ‘The thing is, what with trying to get myself established in Saros and everything that entails, l haven’t really had much time
‘Hey Yanni, you’re awake. Come on my man, let’s go.’ The light from the opened door blinds him. ‘We must eat and celebrate.’ A hand grabs his arm and pulls. He shakes it off with a flex of his bicep. The hand has a weak grip.
‘Oh, you’re not one of these people that are all grumpy when they wake, are you? Come on.’
Like the bucket falling from the well’s edge and spilling the water over the parched ground, in an instant, everything returns and soaks in. Being met in the village square by Babis, being hauled into the kafeneio, the open floor-to-ceiling glass doors, clusters of tables surrounded by work-worn faces. So many faces. Babis introducing to everyone his second cousin from the island. Unfamiliar face after unfamiliar face offering to shake his hand, an ouzo thrust into his open palm and a hearty slap on the back from Babis as he takes a sip which makes him gulp and the shot goes down in one swallow. A joke being made of islanders drinking, another glass in his hand, Babis telling expectant faces exaggerated tales of their brief meetings when they were boys, Yanni so much taller and older and wiser. On and on, Babis talked. What could have been said in five words took him twenty minutes. Yanni was tired from the jiggling and pounding and shouting of the journey, so many people, so much that was new and then with Babis droning on, his eyes closed in reaction to everything, shutting down, blocking it out, another slap on the back, another mouthful and then nothing seemed so bad; in fact, he felt quite pleasant for a while. Another glass in his hand feeling smooth and round, the burn in his throat. No idea what was going on, someone said … No, that was Hectoras on the island—on a different day, maybe he … No, it will not come.
‘Come on now, Yanni, whilst you’ve been snoring all afternoon, I’ve been working, another sale going through, but now I am hungry. Come, the food is on me, my friend. Let’s go!’
‘Water,’ is all Yanni can say.
Babis leaves the room and returns presently. ‘Here.’ He hands him a glass of water. ‘I did think you were chucking it back my friend, but who was I to say? First you seemed all strung out, tense, tongue tied and then after a couple of ouzos, you found your stride. I couldn’t keep up. Anyway, it’s great you are here. Come, it’s late enough; let’s go eat.’
‘Could we not stay here?’ Yanni says, not quite sure where ‘here’ is, but the quiet seems preferable to anything he can recall of the mainland so far. How many times has he put his hands to his ears, so many people he could no longer tell them apart, and that bus, that jolting about, the speed with which the land passed, who could think that was a good idea? So many people pressed in so close together, and why was that man given such a hard time when he wanted his goat to ride with him, when there was a woman on the seat next to him with a dog on her lap? And that other woman who talked and talked and when she had worn one person to the point of getting off the bus, she began on another and nothing she said had any practical use to anyone listening. Yanni shakes his head gently to try to clear the fog.
‘Well it’s a bit of a mess here at the moment ... What with Mama going up to her sister’s in Athens. Thought she would only be a weekend, but she’s been gone two months already.’ He picks up a shirt and a tea towel and puts them on the back of a chair by the door. The chair already has an upturned bowl on it, which is none too clean. ‘But Auntie is getting better, thanks be to God, so we must not complain.’ He crosses himself and gathers together various parts of a newspaper that has spread over the floor. He folds it haphazardly and puts it on the upturned bowl, which it promptly falls off. ‘The thing is, what with trying to get myself established in Saros and everything that entails, l haven’t really had much time
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