VIII - Part 04

VIII

1. A small procession of people was passing by on the street in front of the boarding house chanting: “MACEDONIANS GET OUT OF GREECE”.

Lazaros Papadoglu was sitting in the café with Pondilaki and the dock workers. The people from the procession were screaming so loud they were hurting his eardrums.

“The newspaper says that we Macedonians will cause World War III. Greece wants to get rid of us… Force us out from our native hearth…” said Manoli Strezovski in a mellow tone of voice.

Lazaros Papadoglu was getting even more upset watching the people outside shouting offensive and hurtful slogans. He got up and went outside. Manoli followed him.

“I can assure you Manoli that it is not the Greek people who want you out of Greece. These are nationalists supported by the English

and Americans. This is your country and no one can chase you out.” said Lazaros.

“And what about these people here?” asked Manoli pointing at the procession.

“Don’t worry about them! The Greek people will not allow a handful of people to achieve their desires.” replied Manoli.

Surprised, Manoli Strezovski turned his head. Lazaros’s voice sounded like it was broken into countless pieces and the noise from the street blew them away like ashes in the wind.

“I don’t much believe in the power of your words. I am used to seeing the government for what it really is and for what it does. Especially how it takes power and what it does with it!” replied Manoli.

2. Manoli Strezovski and Lazaros went back inside and sat with Pondilaki and the dock workers.

“Is there a look of contentment in your eyes?” asked Pondilaki with a smile.

“Well, after this, the people will put their trust back in the communists. This rally speaks very loudly about the oppression of the Macedonians even though they desire to live together with us in the same state.” replied Lazaros.

“I like that! What do you think Lazaros?” asked Pondilaki.

“There is no other way. It is my wish to see all of you Macedonians together. Only that is another story…” replied Lazaros and took a sip of rakia.

3. “Didn’t I tell you? They agreed!” shouted Lazaros.

Manoli Strezovski looked surprise and alarmed.

“What was it that you told me?” he asked Lazaros.

“The Macedonian and Greek democratic organizations agreed to lead the fight against the government together!” Lazaros yelled out triumphantly.

Pondilaki laughed out loud. Manoli Strezovski looked relieved. Lazaros Papadoglu’s words echoed in his mind: “The Greek people do not represent a group of ferocious nationalists…” Manoli felt stronger, like he was ready to fight against the devil.

“I am ready to fight!” Manoli yelled out loudly.

“This does not affect the people who manipulate the destiny of the country. They falsified the plebiscite. This is what the left and central parties were saying yesterday. They also said that only the English and the Monarcho-Fascists want this kind of government. They are bringing the king back from London.” said Lazaros and coughed.

“I don’t like the king coming back. They will again forbid me from speaking my native Macedonian language, just like they did before the war.” said Manoli sounding concerned.

“Quiet, be careful what you say! Pampas is coming in with his entourage of policemen.” said Lazaros quietly.

“Don’t worry about Pampas! I fear only the army. The army is a big problem for me if it enters the café. Pampas is a timid man, afraid of children…” said Pondilaki and laughed.

“He married Sofia Geleva. He sent his wife and three children to a village somewhere near Solun. He now walks around like a jackass…” said Manoli.

“Urania now will never be able to get her brother Hristo out.” interjected Tushi.

“Why not?” wondered Pondilaki.

“Sofia married Pampas to free herself from Urania’s hooks. Look at her. Look how she is walking!? She will trip over herself from being so puffed up.” said Manoli.

Urania’s new star appeared on the stage. The bright lights dimmed and went bright again. Pampas smiled, looked at Sofia and said:

“You are mine now! Only I can look and caress your naked body, the most beautiful body in the world.”

Sofia Geleva did not reply. She smiled and watched the podium. Iani Rankov came out on stage. Sofia laughed out loud and clapped her hands. Pampas looked at her sternly. Sofia stopped her clapping, picked up her glass and said:

“Cheers my dear!"

“Cheers, beautiful!” replied Pampas.

They both had a sip of rakia. The lights then came on full bright. Then, suddenly, they went out and Iani Rankov began to play his bouzouki. All the customers in the café turned their eyes and ears towards the stage.

4. All the dock workers, sitting at their usual table, were making unusual sounds.

“The king arrived in Greece today. He came off the “Franklin Roosevelt”. The large ship anchored at Piraeus harbour.” whispered Lazaros to Pondilaki.

“I see! So, that’s why Hash and the Monarcho-Fascists are so happy today. The entire company seems to be gathered here. They are celebrating the return of their king…” replied Pondilaki.

“And, as you can see, the Englishmen and the American are here with them!” said Lazaros.

“All we are missing now is the police and the slime from the Balkan countries. And I don’t see Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin here.” replied Pondilaki.

“The police is coming, Pondilaki. Listen to their footsteps!” laughed Lazaros.

“To the health of the new government…” sarcastically toasted Pondilaki and took a sip of rakia.

Pampas, with Sofia’s hand under his arm, took his place reserved just for him and ordered a brandy for two. He looked around and saw Hash celebrating. He smiled at him contentedly. Hash bowed slightly at his police uniform. He then saluted Hash’s bow and gave the Englishmen and the American a sign to continue to have fun. He then turned his eyes and stared at Sofia’s beauty. After that he took a sip brandy.

5. Rasim Bey stood up, made a tough face and toasted his two companions he was with. Pampas did not tolerate his presence in the café but was afraid to openly confront him so he smiled at him and raised his glass to toast him. Hash saw the Albanian and his companions and went over to them.

“Will you join us, Rasim! We are celebrating.” he said.

“What are you celebrating? A holiday?” asked Rasim.

“We are celebrating the return of the king to this country. We now have a king!” he replied pompously.

Rasim Bey scratched his head and said:

“Okay we will come over. We are happy that your king has returned…”

“Our king, Resim!” said Hash proudly.

Rasim Bey stood up and accompanied Hash to his table. Rasim’s companions followed.

“Hello!” sair Rasim Bey greeting the Englishmen and the American.

“Hello!” they said back.

Rasim Bey sat down and was joined by his two friends. Hash handed them each a shot glass and poured some gin into them. They all laughed.

6. Iani Ronkov appeared on the stage again and began to test his instrument. The gentle sound of the bouzouki filled the room. Hash waved his hand inviting him to his table. Iani Ronkov took his time going there.

“Play something cheerful, something that will crown the coming of our king in this country.” he said in a mild tone of voice.

“I have to prepare for the evening performance. I am not paid but the king, Urania Papaioannou is paying me to perform!” said Iani in a mellow tone of voice.

Suddenly Hash became very upset and jumped out of his chair. He was frothing from his mouth when he said:

“You will play or I will expel you to Skopje!” He then turned to see how his threat was received by his guests. They all laughed cynically.

Iani Rankov, for some reason, ignored his threat and decided not to play. He, himself did not know why. Unfortunately Hash was not so happy about that and immediately showed his discontent. His eyes went flush and his face turned all red. His nasal cavities went wide open and his face became distorted with rage. Iani Rankov took a couple of steps back.

You will play you Slavo-Macedonian bastard or else!” threatened Hash and drew his dagger from his belt. The large blade flashed in the dim light and for a moment blinded Iani’s eyes.

“Play, you bastard!” Hash yelled out and put his knife close to his eyes.

Iani Rankov took a good look at his eyes and took two more steps back. Hash got even angrier. He made a bizarre face and his eyes turned wild. He then bellowed like a wounded wild beast and waved his knife around ready to stab Iani. His blade flew by Iani’s head. Iani moved away. This made Hash even angrier and this time he aimed to stab Iani. Iani did not look upset. With two quick and long steps, he found himself back on the stage. He calmly grabbed a metal rod he used to support his large trunk in which he kept his instruments and took a defensive position. Hash lost his desire to kill him.

“Maybe now that our duel is over, I can continue with my show. I don’t care if the king is in this country or in some other exotic landscape somewhere on this globe. I live to play my bouzouki and I make my living by playing it…” Iani thought to himself and kept an eye on Hash to make sure he did not ambush him. One time Iani was in love with a beautiful woman but the last war took her away from him leaving him alone to roam around the big city. He now has accepted his self imposed solitude and is living amongst the common people. He neither loves nor hates anyone. Everyone is the same for him. He is not interested in politics and thought nothing about urging the people to fight for their freedom. Also, he wanted nothing from them. Last year he had fallen so low that nothing other than his own bouzouki could make him get up again. Now that Hash tried to strike against his dignity something awakened in him. He suddenly had a strong desire to step on him and crush him under his feet. But, such violence was not in his nature, he was always a peaceful man. He went back to what he did best but would not to surrender.

Hash kept looking at him with his feral eyes flashing and with his glittering knife blade swinging at him. He went up on the stage and firmly pressed his knife blade against Iani’s metal rod and swung it

from side to side determined to continue the struggle until one of them was dead. This, to him, was like going back to his childhood days when he was playing Epatapirgon. But, at the same time Hash kept an eye open for the dock workers who, at the moment, were hesitant to intervene and stop the bloody showdown.

Another bouzouki echoed loudly everywhere in the boarding house. Hash was sweating. He turned and looked. There, in Iani’s orchestra, he saw another man playing a bouzouki on the stage. The man played the instrument like his life depended on it feeling his blood flow through his veins as he took measured strikes against the strings.

Pondilaki watched the duel calmly. The dock workers who sat around him were not so calm.

“This game is called the ballad of the undefeated. We often played it when we were children. One of the two must fall. In this case Iani is determined to fight to the death,” said Pondilaki to calm down the dock workers. But that did not help. The dock workers still followed Iani and Hash’s movements intensely. They expected some sort of terrible outcome.

Iani Ronkov made a play with his eyes while moving to the sick rhythm of the bouzouki. He took two steps forward towards Hash. A tiny smile appeared on his thin lips. Hash retreated. Iani again jumped towards him keeping his eyes fixed on the blade of the large knife.

Rasim Bey’s two companions left their chairs and went towards Iani, making sure they made no noise that might interfere with the melody emanating from the bouzouki. One of Rasim Bey’s companions unfortunately failed to completely maintain his composure. He pulled out a dagger with a ribbed blade from the holster he was wearing under his armpit and announced to all present that Iani Rankov now had a new rival. But it was not in his cards to kill a bouzouki player that day. He walked slowly, careful not to stumble, out of fear or lack of confidence. But only he knew why. Unfortunately he tripped over Manoli Strezovski’s extended foot and fell headfirst onto the floor. He did not see how the

audience perceived his fall; with great excitement… or not. He managed to raise himself off the floor but a gun appeared in Tushi Gonev’s hand and a voice warned him not to move if he wanted to live. He remained on the floor motionless.

Rasim Bey’s second companion, from whose eyes sprang a strange nostalgia for something lost long ago, took another two steps and disappeared behind the counter, invisible to the eyes of those present in the café. Pampas was the only one who saw Stoios Panagopoulos grab him by the neck and wrestle him behind the counter.

“Do something! Blood will be spilled!” complained Sofia to Pampas.

Pampas laughed.

“I am not going to my grave because they are fools…” he said and gently tapped Sofia’s arm.

“This is the music of death…” lit up Sofia angrily.

“Calm down, crazy woman! Why do you even care?” replied Pampas quietly.

The Bouzouki kept on playing, emitting the warm sounds that flowed in the blood of those present paralyzing their heartbeats. The sick melody was overwhelming and defiant. It broke the silence from which there was no peace not even in the darkest places in this country. No one, outside of Rasim Bey’s companions, made any attempt to disrupt the drama and pain caused by the sick melody flowing from the strings. It was as if they were all nailed to the floor of the café. Even Pampas, who on a monthly basis was paid to keep the peace and love among the residents in this large city, did not intervene.

Iani Ronkov firmly pushed the iron rod and watched the reaction in Hash’s eyes removing themselves from the music of death. Hash’s body shook and uncertainty appeared in his hand holding the sharp, shiny blade of the large knife. It loosened up and slowly pulled back down to half the height of his colourful shirt pointing at the pocket.

Something disturbed his eyes and he began to look for help. His eyes met two revolver pipes, one pointed at Rasim Bey’s first companion and the other at the table at which the Englishmen, the American, Rasim Bey and the Monarcho-Fascists sat. He noticed Rasim Bey’s first companion on the floor. His eyes could not find the other one. A thought came to his mind to bypass Iani, but the three-tone music suddenly stopped. This killed his latest thought and took him back to the natural merciless lake waters. He jumped two steps back. That saved his life.

Urania Papaioannou appeared on the steps of the stairs leading to the upper floor of the boarding house. She was dressed in a lavish whitish, opaque nightgown.

“The comedy is over, ladies and gentlemen!” she said sternly and loudly right after the music stopped.

The blood pressure in all present returned to normal and everyone went back to doing what they were doing before the drama. They slowly and unsteadily returned to their tables. Hash laughed a mocking laugh more to compose himself than to convince his friends of his triumph or humiliation, depending on how they saw it. With uncertain steps he went back to the table where the Englishmen, the American and Rasim Bey were sitting and sat in one of the empty chairs. Rasim Bey’s first companion, released by Tushi Gonev, also returned to the table. The second companion did not make an appearance and was never seen again. Fortunately for Stoios Panagopoulos nobody ever asked for him. It was almost as if such a person had never existed.

Urania Papaioannou went to Pampas’s table, bent down and gave him a kiss on his cheek to make sure their friendship was still intact. She then left him all to Sofia who was still emotionally excited by the drama. She frantically kept looking at Iani’s bloody eyes. Finally she calmed down.

“This is the first game of death that ended without a winner,” said Pondilaki to the dock workers.

“Don’t jump to conclusions prematurely!” replied Lazaros with a tone of concern in his voice.

Iani Ronkov looked disappointed.

“He has a desire to win at least once in his life. I can read it in his eyes,” murmured Pondilaki and watch him disappear backstage.

7. It took about half an hour for things to calm down. Urania Papaioannou’s new star, who she had brought all the way from Athens, finally made her appearance on stage. She began to undress to the rhythm of the music and everyone noticed how well she danced in tune with the music. Iani Ronkov was not on stage. But the new star’s dancing, along with the virtuous playing of the bouzouki managed to penetrate the audience’s senses.

The dock workers sitting at the table were concerned.

“The wind will not pass without leaving a bloody trail…” said Tushi.

8. Urania Papaioannou’s new star went backstage. There was loud a scream. The girl ran back into the café frightened. Stoios Panagopoulos grabbed her and hugged her.

“Iani the bouzouki player is dead. He is lying on the floor backstage,” she said with tears in her eyes.

“What the hell!?’ shouted Stoios, sat her down on the chair and ran backstage. He shuddered.

“This is Hash’s doing… He and his ruthless friends did this!” he thought to himself. The café customers anxiously waited for Stoios to appear. When he appeared he was carrying Iani Ronkov’s body in his arms. He stopped in front of the counter and put it down at the new star’s feet. Urania Papaioannou ran down the stairs. She looked emotionless.

“Take the body out of the café. The customers will soon be coming,” she said with a calm tone of voice which was usual for her when she spoke to Stoios. “Then go find Foti! He hasn’t been here for weeks and don’t you tell me you can’t do that…” she added and gently tapped him on the shoulder. She then turned around and went back upstairs to her room.

With the help from two of his staffers who worked in the boarding house, Stoios Panagopoulos wrapped Iani Ronkov’s body in two bed sheets and sent his staffers to deliver him to the cemetery. Without saying a word the two carried Iani’s body away and three hours later they were back in the boarding house. Stoios Panagopoulos compensated them well for doing the extra work. He then treated the two to a glass of rakia in honour of the dead bouzouki player and to his life which he had lived well. He then left the two to finish drinking their rakia while he went to find Foti Steriov at Urania’s request. He left through the back door and headed down the street. The great city had many secret places. Stoios had no idea where Foti might be hiding. After looking at the vague picture of some of the various secret places he might be hiding, he cursed Urania and decided not to look for him any more. What was the point of finding him? Urania was not going to take him back, she was still with Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin who, it seems, never left her bed, her fireplace and the calm waters of the great Don River which he constantly played in his mind. Stoios came back to the boarding house and hid in the kitchen.

IX

1. Pondilaki was standing on the platform looking at Iana Chakalarova’s big eyes. Sometimes his view was taken by Maria Stavridis’s dear face.

“Say hello to him from me. Don’t forget the vine. He will not accept you without it,” said Pondilaki.

Iana Chakalarova smiled. Maria Stavridis looked at him shyly.

“Don’t worry! We will take care of everything,” replied Iana.

The train began to move and soon left the station. While thinking of something, Pondilaki went down the platform, turned into the waiting room and then left the station building. He walked along the streets at a rapid pace and did not look at anyone, not even at those in front of him. Manoli Strezovski joined him at Patera Hani and together they went towards Vardaris street.

“Gather the people and be at the cemetery at midnight! We are doing it tonight. We can’t take any more risks,” said Pondilaki and pushed him ahead while he turned onto Vardaris Street. A little later he arrived at Nika Maria’s house. The inside of the house was familiar to him because he went there every day. He entered her room and saw her on the bed. Nika Maria was a pile of skin and bones covered with long black hair. She was fighting for her life, or what little she had left. Pondilaki wanted to send her across the border but when he saw her he realized that it was too late. Nika Maria was going to the other world, the one about which priests pray. He sat down beside her and stayed there for two hours. After that all he had to do was give her a decent burial in the cemetery. He covered her from top to bottom with a sheet, lay her down on her bed and went out of the house. He rushed to get to the church. The streets were empty and he arrived quickly. He found Priest Iraklo inside.

“Are you sure it’s Nika Maria?” asked the priest and sighed.

“Yes Father, I will need a coffin and a few candles. It is important to bury her by tradition,” replied Pondilaki.

“Tonight at ten o’clock in the cemetery. Now go!” said the priest.

“Thank you, Father. I will not forget what you are doing for me,” replied Pondilaki.

“For every soul, my son. We are all children of God and should respect that,” said Iraklo.

Pondilaki left and went back to Nika Maria’s house. When it started to get dark outside he looked at his watch. It was a little early. He lay down on the other bed. When he woke up it was just before ten.

He wrapped Nika Maria’s dead body with another sheet and threw her over his shoulder. He moved slowly and carefully through the streets, making sure no one saw him. When he arrived at the cemetery he recognized Iraklo’s figure in the dark and went towards him. Lying on the ground beside him was a coffin and a few candles. The priest opened the coffin lid and Pondilaki carefully lowered Nika Maria’s body inside it. He then put the lid back and nailed it down. The priest smiled slightly.

“Everything is ready. All that remains is for me to dig the grave,” said Pondilaki.

“The grave has already been dug Pondilaki. Just help me lower the coffin into it. I sent my people away so that they don’t see you. Anything can happen you know. Money is tempting to everyone nowadays…” said the priest quietly and grabbed one end of the coffin. Pondilaki grabbed the other end and the two slowly and carefully lowered it into the grave. The priest then said a few words and did his part over the coffin. Pondilaki then covered the coffin and filled the entire hole with soil. He then put a cross on it. On the cross he wrote: “HEREIN LIES NIKA MARIA.” He was satisfied with the service.

“Now let us go, Pondilaki,” said the priest.

Pondilaki nodded his head. His hair was a mess. They snuck out of the dark cemetery and went inside the church. Iraklo noticed two strangers following them.

“I forgot to light the candles,” said Pondilaki. “I am going back to the cemetery!”

Iraklo smiled and seemed glad to see Pondilaki leave the church. He knew the two people who followed them were standing in front of the church, so he quietly escorted Poindilaki out the back door and they shook hands without a saying a word. Pondilaki left for the cemetery. He located Nika Maria’s grave, lit the candles and placed them near the cross. He stood there for a while and then quickly went to Hristo Sotirovski’s house where old man Hristo lived with his daughter Paraskevi. It was late at night. He wanted to say hello

to them before leaving town. He found them brooding with dark circles around their eyes. They were surprised to see him. Pondilaki sat down.

“What happened to you?” he asked with a serious tone of voice while rubbing his tired eyes.

“We are leaving tomorrow…” replied Hristo calmly.

Pondilaki became upset.

“Why, for what reason?” he asked, looking desperate.

“You know why. They are mercilessly persecuting us and they will kill us. The police are looking for Paraskeva. I want to save my daughter and my grandchild,” he replied.

Pondilaki thought for a moment and said:

“You are right, you are not the only ones. It seems our entire world is falling apart all around us and the many people we counted on in the past are leaving us, vanishing from our sight… even from our country… There are too many events unfolding too fast and I can’t seem to gather my wits. I don’t know what to tell you. I can only offer you my assistance. The war has started and...” said Pondilaki and without finishing his sentence added: “Leave the keys with the neighbours.”

“The times are bad, my son…” replied Hristo. “Thank you for all you have done for us. And that is more than plenty. The rest will be settled by the Macedonian organization in which Paraskeva is a member. I hope we will meet again but under different circumstances. No one could have predicted that something like this was going to happen and that it would ruin our lives,” concluded Hristo.

“Then goodbye and hope we will meet again…” said Pondilaki, shook hands and left the apartment. Half an hour later he was at the cemetery again. Manoli Strezovski and Tushi Gonev were already there waiting for him. They joined the others. Among them

Pondilaki noticed Vangelios Kotinaris’s smiling face. Pondilaki went over and shook hands.

“Let us begin!” Pondilaki said.

Vangelios Kotinaris smiled and showed his white teeth. He gave the sign to move. A moving shadow stopped them in their tracks. The quiet shadow moved among the tombstones and wooden crosses. They ducked down and closely followed its movements.

“Who could it be? We are not expecting anyone else,” said Kotinaris quietly.

They all stood there silently watching the shadow. Then, right in front of them, Stoios Panagopoulos appeared. Everyone was surprised. Stoios Panagopoulos was surprised the most.

“Excuse me for being late. I was not able to leave the boarding house on time…” he explained.

Everybody laughed and then left. They had only one rifle. Stoios Panagopoulos was carrying it over his shoulder. The others were carrying pistols. They walked at a fast pace. They arrived at the Vlach cottages before sunrise. Kotinaris stopped, raised his arm up and said:

“We have reached our destination. You may go inside but half an hour from now I want you all to gather in front of that cottage over there. Now go and find yourselves a place to stay.”

The dock workers ran for the cottages. It took them only a few moments to disappear. There was silence. The only sounds heard were those of the men snoring.