Chapter 33
‘Aki, relax, it is Pappa Spiros, not a grizzly bear.’
It was only when he saw his grandmother shuffling around Pig to open her door that Akis realised he had been holding his cup of coffee so tightly his fingertips were white. He didn’t want to be doing this, but he had made his mother a promise and he wasn’t in the habit of breaking those. He would listen. That was all he had agreed to do. But he would give it a proper chance.
He took a deep breath as the mountain of the man that was Pappa Spiros squeezed into the space, all black robes, hair dyed jet black including his beard. The man had to be in his sixties but he was an imposing character with a commanding nature.
‘Aki,’ he greeted.
Akis stood up and they kissed each cheek in turn. ‘Pappa.’
‘Please, Pappa, sit in the best chair,’ Irini said, moving a pile of newspapers from the only seat with extra cushioning. Pig let out a bray of discontent as if he’d hoped he would be sitting in the best chair.
‘Can I make you a drink? Coffee? Ouzo?’ Akis offered.
‘I am OK,’ the priest answered. ‘I have just had a drink with your father at the Panorama.’
‘Oh,’ Akis said. He was a little surprised that his father was able to escape the house when the wedding preparation was in turmoil.
‘Your mother is out,’ Pappa Spiros said, as if that explained everything.
Akis smiled.
Irini sat down in another chair, shaking her head. ‘Thanasis has given up trying to have an opinion on anything these days. I think the last decision he was allowed to make was in 1998.’
Pig began to nibble on the edge of a newspaper.
‘And, speaking of decisions,’ Pappa Spiros said, turning his full attention to Akis. ‘I hear you want me to tell you what life as a priest would be like for you.’
Akis took a swig of his coffee, hoping for caffeine to assist. ‘You know about my situation?’
‘You are speaking of the Diakos curse,’ Pappa Spiros said, making a sign of the cross in the air.
Akis sighed. ‘So, it’s really real?’
‘Is there absolute proof and conclusive evidence? We don’t know, for sure, we can only make certain assumptions based on events that have occurred throughout history.’
‘So, what do I do with that?’ Akis asked. ‘Because if there is no truth to it then what am I thinking giving up the life I’ve built for myself for a life I haven’t chosen?’
‘And that is where the problem lies,’ Pappa Spiros agreed.
‘What Pappa Spiros is saying is that you choosing the church shouldn’t be because of the Diakos curse,’ Irini said.
Pig coughed.
‘But, the priesthood has never been something on my agenda,’ Akis admitted. ‘No offence.’
‘But it could be something you choose rather than see as a forced decision. It is a good life, an important life, supporting not just the faith of the community but the community itself.’
Akis swallowed. Choosing to be a priest. Because he wanted to. Not because he was being forced to. Surely he didn’t want to. That had always been at the forefront of his mind when he was coming up against his adamant mother.
‘A lot of the work is simply listening, Aki. You are the ear that takes the worries of the villagers, passes their concerns to God and gives them a direction to go forward in.’
‘But I have no experience in doing that.’
‘Neither did I at the beginning,’ Pappa Spiros said. ‘But the scripture, it will always guide you.’
‘Yeah,’ Akis said. ‘But the scripture is also telling my family that if I don’t become a priest before my thirtieth birthday then all kinds of horrors will prevail.’
‘Have you read any of the stories about the Diakos curse?’ Pappa Spiros asked.
Akis shook his head.
‘Perhaps take a look. Like with all stories in scripture, there are many ways to interpret them. Over the years, philosophers and clerics have all added different reasoning behind the tales. Perhaps if you read about it, things will become much more clear. Now, shall I take you through my typical day? Perhaps it will not be quite as terrifying as you think.’
Over an hour later, Akis’s head was spinning and he almost knew enough of the litany to be able to recite it if he was needed for service on Sunday. He stood in the garden looking out over the olive grove to the sunset beyond turning the sky a fiesta of pink, Pig by his side munching on sparse tufts of dry grass.
‘What did you think, Aki?’
It was his grandmother, stepping through the garden, a bottle of ouzo in one hand and two small glasses in the other. He hastened to take them from her, hurried to the rusted metal table and two equally old chairs.
‘I think that perhaps neither of us should be drinking ouzo,’ he remarked, making sure she was settled in her chair before taking his. ‘I have my motorbike.’
‘Soon your mother will be measuring you up for the robes of a priest without the Velcro like your dancing show,’ Irini said. She laughed until she started to cough.
‘I’ll get you some water,’ Akis said, standing up.
‘No,’ Irini replied. ‘Ouzo is all I need. God whispered in my ear this morning.’
Akis shook his head as he poured them both a little of the clear liquid. ‘Pappa Spiros did not tell me anything about God doing any whispering.’
‘But he did tell you about re-imaginings. The way the stories from the past can be adjusted.’
‘I’m not sure it’s the stories that need to be adjusted,’ Akis contemplated aloud. ‘I think perhaps it is my mother’s views. And the way she projects her insecurities onto Cosmos.’
‘Because he is the weakest goat,’ Irini said, sipping her drink as Pig moved to another spot. ‘That is what your mother has always done. She finds the person who will listen to her agenda the longest and she will make her opinions their opinions. Cosmos, poor Wren and your long-suffering father.’
‘What do you think I should do?’ Akis asked, sitting back in his chair.
‘You ask me! You want another opinion to go with all the others being forced on you? You are crazy!’
Yeah, he was. And he had told Cara that the only person whose opinion really mattered was your own. Already he was losing a grip on who he was.
‘I just want to do the right thing,’ he admitted.
‘Who for?’ Irini asked.
‘For everybody.’
‘Ha! That is the impossible dream. It is an unachievable reality. You should know this already.’
‘The best thing then,’ Akis said. ‘The thing that gets the closest best outcome for everybody that matters to me.’
Irini sat forward on her chair. ‘Will you answer me something?’
‘Sure.’
‘Why when people talk about the day you lost your finger do they call it “Cosmos’s accident”?’
Akis didn’t answer. What was he supposed to say?
‘Because Cosmos is OK. There are no physical scars, he does not speak of any trauma he feels. In fact, when he is made to regale the tale at events, he tells people he does not remember much of this. But you. I see what happened written all the way through you. The sacrifice you made. The sacrifices you are still willing to make for this family.’
Still, Akis had no words, but the emotion was there, picking away at his insides.
‘And what of the girl?’ Irini said. ‘Cara.’
At the mere mention of her name, Akis was catapulted back to earlier that day, Cara’s voice filling every corner of his apartment. Once she had gained her confidence, she had shown him exactly why she had made singing her profession. Her quality and tone were exquisite. Everything about her was exquisite…
‘My mother’s friend’s niece?’ he found himself saying.
Irini tutted. ‘You know exactly who I mean without giving me a family tree. You like her.’
‘Well, we are two of the only sane people at the centre of this wedding fiasco, it is natural for us to get along.’
‘Do you think I was born yesterday under that olive tree?’ Irini asked him, pointing. ‘I know you, Aki. I see you. And how is becoming a priest going to help with that? You know you have to be married before you are a priest to be able to take a wife.’
He shook his head. ‘I am aware.’
‘Then you have a lot of think about. Or a lot to ask Cara.’
‘Yiayia, if we believe this legend then I need to become a priest before I am thirty. That is not enough time to know someone long enough to ask them to marry me.’
‘So you say,’ Irini said, swiping a mosquito from her orbit. ‘I knew your grandfather for three hours before I knew I was going to marry him. And six weeks later, only that long because my mother insisted on making me a dress, we were wed.’
Akis shook his head. ‘Things are different these days.’
‘And that is where the world’s troubles lie. All this moving faster, a new, better thing every few weeks, but it is backwards motion. It is throwaway things. Things people are rushing quicker towards that do not even matter.’ She sighed. ‘Then slowly slowly in other areas that should be more important until there is no time left to make it count.’
His grandmother’s words felt so pertinent for so many situations in his life. He slugged back the ouzo.
‘Why not speak to your father?’ she suggested.
‘My father?’ Akis asked, a little surprised at the suggestion.
‘He is the oldest Diakos around here,’ she reminded him. ‘His older brother, your uncle, had made his choices about the priesthood before he passed away. He will have spoken to Thanasis about it.’
Uncle Dimitri. No one talked much about him. All Akis knew was that he had become a priest and then passed away before his first Sunday service.
He mused for a second. What did that mean for the curse? Even someone who had followed the ‘rules’ hadn’t escaped bad fortune.
‘Ask your father,’ Irini said again. ‘And’ – she reached for her glass – ‘pour me another ouzo.’