PART ONE - Part 05

The refugees disappeared from the slope during the night. Their long journey into the unknown was accompanied by only a single great desire - to return home -which by now everyone had realized was unrealistic and perhaps unattainable...

Slightly to the side, closer to the grove, in the lowest part of the slope lay the dead, whose bodies had been hurriedly buried during the night. They would remain there forever. Some died of exhaustion and others of old age and illness. The little babies born along the dusty road of no return and those born on the dry slope near Pegin, who didn’t make it, also lay mixed with the old people. They were wrapped in old rags or in moldy worn out blankets, left over from the Greco-Italian war, and buried in shallow tombs. The local Muslims living in Pegin wouldn’t allow foreigners, especially Christians, to be buried on their land among their faithful. The crosses marking the graves were made up of two sticks tied together by a string. The strong winds blowing from the sea tore them apart and scattered them along the slope.

None of those in charge, or as the refugees called them “important people”, asked or cared to know how many people had died and where they were buried. Those “important people” wrote nothing in their notebooks about the dead left behind, who now lay forever on the desolate slope near the grove. No one wrote down their names in their notebooks. They were left there without a mark except for the small sticks tied together with a string which, over time, the strong winds blew away. But for now all that was left of the dead was a heap of freshly dug soil and a wooden cross over them.

The graves in the little cemetery down there on the desolate slope near the grove may have been shallow but the pain and anguish they left in the hearts and souls of the living were deep and immense...

Even a baby carried all the way there in her mother’s arms was left. Its empty cradle was left next to its grave. It came alive when stronger winds blew and a pleading voice seemed to resonate in the dark saying:

“Sleep little baby, sleep so that you can grow to become a big person... Sleep little one, sleep so you can grow to become a strong person...

In the morning when the sun rose above the grey mist in the distance, the flock of crows again flew over the slope. The black cloud of crows circled for a long time, afraid of nothing and no one, they circled until dusk pecking at the misery of those who had fled...

Yellow leaves fell over the empty tents. The mornings and the nights were cold. Everything was moist and sad.... The wind was constantly blowing from the sea carrying with it the smell of salt. A flock of crows, crowing loudly, flew over the slope.

And there, up on top of the hill, sitting down with its tail tucked in, was Sharko, the forgotten puppy, who howled from dawn to dusk calling and searching for Dedo Tode...

The ship continued on its way but for those inside there was no day, no moon, or stars at night, and those who managed to look out through the narrow window or those who went up on deck for a

moment saw only clouds, thick, heavy, black clouds that darkened the sea during the day.

The ship was sailing...

Where and on whose shore was it going to land and unload its passengers?