Excerpt
The idea of moving to Canada became more and more exciting. Oh, to
live in a country that was huge, and sparsely populated, and that seemed
peaceful. You never heard stories about this sort of thing going on in Canada.
I tried to spend even more time with the Canadian ambassador and, given
his passion for fishing, it wasn’t too difficult.
Miloo was the brightest light in his sky. He didn’t know if he was in
love with her – he didn’t know what “in love” meant. He only knew that
some powerful emotion had taken residence inside him that was unlike
anything he had ever experienced. It wasn’t only lust, although that too
played a large part – it was simply that, with Miloo, he found a comfort
that was like coming home. Miloo, had a fire inside her that burned as
bright as his own. When he was with Miloo, he felt as though there was
one other soul on the planet who understood him completely.
Their relationship gradually changed. Miloo told him stories of her
life. She explained that her limp – such a minor impediment – was considered
significant. In Portugal, only the men were allowed to have flaws.
The women had to be perfect.
Ken raged, his anger, as always, flared when he encountered an injustice.
They held hands when they walked and sometimes they stopped
walking so that they could stand with their arms wrapped around each
other. She protested that society would not allow them to be together and
yet she searched him out and welcomed the intimacy.
Then one night, when the tide was low and they walked along the
beach where the water was still warm from the heat of the sun, she suggested
they go for a swim. They took off their clothes and plunged into
the still, moonlit pool. Finally they came together in an embrace and Ken
was lost – they were both lost in each other.
Over the next two years the political situation in Portugal began to deteriorate
rapidly. Secret police, informers and spies were everywhere and
no matter how careful you were, someone was watching and talking.
Ken’s father was unaware that he had a mole in his own office. He had
hired a gem cutter from Antwerp, in Belgium, the world centre of diamond
cutting. His background was a bit shady, but he was an expert in his
craft and Ken Sr. had not inquired too deeply into his background. Lisbon
was the kind of centre that attracted unusual people: the brilliant, the demonic,
and the nefarious – they all gravitated to Portugal’s magic city.
Manolis Aligizakis 