Tag: prison-cell

Redemption

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…dedicated themselves to the benefit of the people’s lives. Ah, my poor
motherland…”
“Yes, I know. But we’d better go now.”
“Yes, let’s go. We might take the other road over the small
marsh, and hopefully we could come across some ducks, then we
could go by my father’s greenhouse and see what he has accomplished.
Sounds okay?”
“Yes, let’s get going then.”
They followed the road to the marsh. There were a few dark
clouds on the north horizon, clouds that lingered in the sky, indecisive
clouds, unsure of where they’d like to run; there was light wind
blowing from the north, and the weather could change very quickly.
A fierce storm could come from the north, which will drench everything
in a matter of minutes.
“We’d better be quick, Uncle. I don’t like the looks of those
clouds.”
“I don’t think this weather is going to change any time soon,
Son. Why are you so concerned?”
But his nephew repeated,
“We must be quick, my uncle. I don’t like these clouds.”
As they entered the olive grove, Hermes caught sight of a wild
dove at the top of a tree. He aimed and shot, quickly and with confidence:
he succeeded. He reloaded and ran to pick up the bird, which
was still fluttering its wings on the ground. The dog reached the bird
first. He approached the bird to pick it up with his mouth, but when
he came close to it, the bird fluttered and scared the dog away, barking
and wagging his tail.
Hermes bent down and reached for the fluttering bird; he could
see the huge pain in its eyes. Suddenly, the strange shudder overtook
his body again, like when he was aboard the ship. “What is it?” he
wondered, and suddenly, he didn’t feel like hunting anymore.
The wind started blowing stronger now, and Hermes convinced
Demetre that they should head to his father’s greenhouse.

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Redemption

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…when he took it in as though he were touching the Bible. The mayor
examined it with great curiosity while fellow villagers looked over
his shoulder to get a good look at this piece of paper, too.
“So, this is a diploma,” said the envious mayor when he handed
it back to Hermes.
“Yes, this is the diploma and here is my award.” Hermes showed
him another piece of paper with golden letters and official stamps
honouring him for his excellent standing in the class.
“You also received an award, Hermes?” The mayor’s eyes widened,
“Bravo! My congratulations once again!”
He looked at the paper more closely and asked.
“So, what are you going to do now, young Dragakis? Become an
economist? What does an economist do?”
Hermes gave them a brief explanation of what an economist
was and how he had a scholarship to study abroad for two years and
then would be teaching at the university. The mayor and the others
had a hard time understanding what all these meant.
“Scholarship to go to another country and study,” the mayor
said as if talking to himself. “Which country are you heading for?”
“Canada.”
The crowd turned to look at one another, with awe written upon
their faces. They felt quite proud of the son of George Dragakis; not
many young men from the area got the chance to go to the city and
study, never mind accomplishing what Hermes had, this far, this fast.
Demetre’s cheeks blushed thinking of this young man who had
brought their family and ancestors this honour of achievement.
Smiling, Demetre took Hermes away from the crowds.
“Time for us to go to my brother’s place.”
So, they said their goodbyes and started their walk to the house
at the other end of the village. They followed a narrow pathway and,
in a few minutes, arrived at the house. As they approached his father’s
dog, the hound started to bark. The uncle and his nephew were not
even inside the fence when his mother, as though by instinct, came
out of the house and saw them.

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Redemption

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They travelled in silence, tired. Demetre couldn’t find a way to
take him away from his thoughts, although he surely wanted to talk
to him about Magda. But the young man was in a melancholic mood,
just like the overcast sky over them and the monotonous light rain
of Crete. The monotony that overburdened a heavy heart or a wandering
mind that only knew how to find disturbance and make it its
own, that only found imbalance and made it its own, as was Hermes’s
mind and heart this fine cloudy evening.
And it was that certain heaviness on his chest as his mind travelled
to the years he’d be faraway from this land he was born into and
raised, this land with its poor people for who Hermes had strong feelings
of understanding and empathy, these people for he felt he had
to work his best to alleviate their daily burden by making sure one
day they might carry a lighter burden and they might be able to have
a decent living comparing them to the citizens of other European
countries, since he had spent many hours studying and educating
himself with regards to the standards of living in some European
countries and he knew things could change to the better if the proper
legislature was passed and if new and modern rules were put in place,
he had many thoughts of the how and the when, yet he also knew it
was very difficult to change things people had been doing for eons,
but he also knew he had to try nonetheless because he truly believed
that when the going gets tough, the tough get going, as a familiar saying
went.
When they arrived at his parents’ house, he had in mind to
show them the graduation papers which he had brought along and
which were resting inside his small briefcase. He wanted them to feel
pride for his diploma, something many people would love to have,
yet he had this unbearable weight on his heart and he could see it
with the eyes of his soul, a soul big enough to take in the whole world,
the world with its poverty and disease, with its wars and disasters…

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Redemption

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He was in his room with his mind wandering to faraway lands
where he might have to go for a while. Yes, he had to accept the offer.
This position was going to be his post. Even if he had to go abroad, it
would be just for a while. He liked the idea of being around the young
people who could be moulded to his way of thinking. He could be a
craftsman who would take soil and plant it into a pot of his liking.
Yes, this was a position he had to accept.
“Everything will go the way it was supposed to go,” Hermes
told himself.
Cleaned and dressed, he went downstairs. His aunt was there.
“Ready to go, my boy?”
“Yes, dear Aunt. I shouldn’t be late.”
“You are right. Go then and try to learn everything, so you
know what you will get yourself into, conditions, demands, everything,
okay? Remember, nobody these days offers you something
without expecting something in return.”
“Yes, I know, I will find out the best I can. Don’t worry. I’ll tell
you all about it when I’m back.”
“Are you going to be late?”
“No, and I’m not going to Eleni’s after this, if that’s what you are
saying,” he answered and went to the door.
Half an hour later, he was at the doorstep of the dean’s house
and rang the bell.
The dean himself opened.
“Good evening, Dean.”
“Good evening, Hermes. Come in.”
He walked in and sat down in an armchair. The house was
rich, lordly, with thick carpets and furniture of a conservative style.
All kinds of paintings hung on the walls. Some of them were classic
styled and coloured pieces, although a couple of them looked
modern, especially one, an abstract painting, flooded by an overhead
light, looked very impressive as it caught Hermes’ glance, which
focused on it for a few extra seconds, not to be missed by the dean,
who smiled and, sitting across from Hermes, asked,

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“I like the dean’s offer. I believe it will be quite a job, and I
should take this opportunity. Of course, there is the fact that I must
go abroad for a couple of years, but that is the way the cookie crumbles,
as the saying goes. I cannot avoid that: it is part of the Hermes
package. When I return, I will be hired, no questions asked. The dean
assured me of this. Of course, I need to talk to my parents, who I’m
sure won’t like the idea of two years in a foreign country. I’d like to
hear your opinion, though. From both of you. You two have been my
second parents for so long, and you understand this a bit more than
my father and my mother could understand.”
His aunt sat there, silently looking at him with great affection,
this child who made her feel so proud.
Demetre cleared his throat, “This is a very good offer, a position
which many others would love to have. It’s a lot better than being
hired as a clerk at some bank or a government position, although that
would perhaps be a steadier career. Still, this is better for you because
it will open quite a wide field of action for later. Of course, the disadvantage
is that you need to go away for a while. It is, after all, a serious
thing to go so far away and be a stranger among strangers, with no
friends, and all that. On the other hand, if that is what it takes, that
is what a man does.”
Hermes smiled at the last part of his uncle’s comment,
“Yes, there is always a way where there is a will. I believe in what
I can do, and I know deep inside that after the hardship, I’m going to
be where I like to be and among the people I like the most.”
“We know you well,” his uncle says, “and we know that we
cannot go against what you want to do. Besides, you are in many ways
exceptional, and you owe it to yourself to achieve great success.”
Demetre was right: he saw in this young man the soul of the
eagle who lived near the mountain peaks, unconquered by time.
He will remind him of this at every step of his way. Hermes realizes
clearly now it is his duty to try, and it is his duty not to fail, although
the word fail is one he never had in his vocabulary. He now knew
clearly that he owed this to his destiny, because it was no less than…

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Redemption

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“Would you like to have a drink?”
“Thank you, Dean, a coffee would be great.”
The dean’s wife walked in, greeted Hermes politely, asked what
he would like in his coffee, and discreetly left them alone.
“Well, Hermes, I would like to get directly to the point, so let
me start by asking how you like this offer from the school. It is a great
position for a young man, don’t you think?”
“Once again, Dean, I would like to thank you. Yes, indeed, it is an
excellent position, and I am quite inclined to say yes to you, although I
still need to know a few more details before I make my decision.”
He was quite clear in his words, and the dean appreciated it.
“I see with pleasure that you like to walk on steady ground,
Hermes. I couldn’t expect anything less than that; it is a bold move
nonetheless,” the dean said as his wife came in with the coffee.
“I hope it is to your liking,” the wife said after serving Hermes.
“I’m sure it is, Madam. Thank you.”
She walked out, and the dean carried on with their conversation,
which all women usually did in this country and in others
around the globe; however, Hermes noticed certain disguised hurt,
some concealed disturbance that had occurred, perhaps lately, and
which was evident in the mannerisms of the lady. Surely it wasn’t his
issue, and he let it be at that as the Dean started,
“Things will unfold like this. You need to go abroad and specialize
in a subject of your choice for two years. The assistant of the
previous professor currently occupies the chair of economics, and
we look forward to having a new professor there.”
“You have talked to the Minister of Education, Dean?”
“Of course, and I’ve mentioned to him that I consider you the
best for this position right now.”
“Thank you so much, Dean. You mentioned last time that you
have also taken care of my expenses for two years of studies abroad.
Could you elaborate a little?”
“Don’t worry about the financial part of this, Hermes. I have
investigated every detail. The scholarship funds will be enough…

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It seemed that the dean had learned this
speech by heart and repeated it like a parrot, irrelevant what was the
country’s current situation.
Hermes sat next to Eleni, feeling bored and angry: under the
junta, things were not good at all, and they wouldn’t get any better
any time soon; and the graduates were not going to do better than
the previous ones. If nothing was done, things were only going to
get worse. Hermes tried very hard to be attentive, and when his name
was called, he got up and walked slowly to the dean, who smiled and
shook his hand before handing him the “holy” paper.
Hermes nodded his head and smiled politely at the dean and
the rest of the officials, as well as his professors. Deep inside him,
Hermes felt the urge to stand up in front of them and give them a
real piece of his mind, but he knew it was not his time yet, so he went
back to his seat. His head throbbed from the tension, which Eleni
sensed as she also sensed that he was absorbed in his own world, so
she asked,
“Are you okay? You look like you don’t like being here.”
“I have this bad headache. My head is really hurting.”
“This thing is just about over. We’ll go soon.”
He nodded, and indeed the ceremony was quickly over, and
the people started to disperse. He and Eleni rose from their seats and
walked toward the exit.
At the door, George, a clerk from the secretary’s office, stopped
them.
“Again, congratulations, young man,” he said to Hermes.
“Oh, thank you, George.”
“The dean would like to see you before you go.”
Surprised, Hermes left Eleni and followed the secretary in the
long hallway to the dean’s office. He knocked at the door and entered.
The head of the university welcomed him and praised him for all the
good work he had done. After all, Hermes was the student with the
highest marks in his class.
Hermes waited for the dean to get to the point.

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…most were ordinary-looking housewives of the gossip circle,
and of course, a few were the ones usually found in the aristocratic
bars and lounges, ladies with housemaids and black chauffeurs, with
small bedroom dogs and a gigolo on the side. Hermes always looked
down on the so-called upper class; a degrading and pathetic life, he
thought they were like snakes. Those people had all the money they
needed, with their luxurious cars and drug addictions or similar
kinds of crap, and they blindly followed whatever is “modern,” a certain
mania to do as the foreigners did, just to be part of the trend.
According to Hermes, this way of living did nothing to
improve a person’s life. He didn’t belong to the idealists and skeptics,
either, who ignored reality and lived in the clouds of their isolation
with the hope that the world would change on its own volition on
some fine morning and everything would just be splendid. What he
wanted was a major change in society, a change that would make the
commoners’ lives better and the upper class more decent and more
confident people.
What else he wanted to help achieve was to unhook the populace
from the iron fist of the church that had grasped the people’s
lives and orchestrated their comings and goings according to the
dogma of an eastern religion that forbids them from letting go and
adopting a freer mindset, Hermes believed was the inherited treasure
of the Hellenes.
That was the psycho-spiritual hold the church had over the lives
of people, which exerted such power that no one ever had stood opposite
to, from the days of their liberation from the Turks, beginning
of the 19th century. However, how that could be possible and which
method could be applied to get the desired outcome was unknown to
Hermes. Yet he hoped that that would appear to him at some time in
the future. A smile came to his face as if he had already been affected
by such a change.
He walked as he disembarked the ship. His uncle, Demetre,
was among the others on the dock, lordly as always, waving his hand.
Hermes beamed a big smile and walked to him.

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these voices of the innumerable people, pagans as they were called,
the ones who had died under the knife of the first Christians, who
exterminated thousands and thousands, as the scholars claimed,
perhaps even millions, to establish the new religion? It was written
in certain books, not of course in the regular books taught in
schools, that millions of Hellenes were eliminated so Christianity
could spread over the lands, and perhaps these voices and groans
Hermes was hearing coming from the depths of the earth were none
other than the pain those millions of Hellenes suffered.
He stood motionless as if to listen to a discourse coming from
somewhere deep under the floor of the monastery, groans of people
killed and buried under the soil of this church, when unexpectedly
a thought came to him: did the purpose justified the means when a
man is condemned to death for the success of a movement, did the
death of a man in the hands of another was rightfully approved by the
system which always craves to retain power over the people? And what
about the killing of a brother by brother, only for the killer to gain the
approval and help of a superior? Such thoughts overtook Hermes to
the point of feeling sick, indeed he felt the need to run away, far away
from this place, which he had visited with all the positive intentions of
looking into the monastery correspondence. He felt suffocated. He put
the papers away, he walked out of the church, he didn’t stop to thank
the monk who helped him, he just walked out at a fast pace as if to distance
himself from voices and images he wanted to forget.
Then, when far out, he felt his heart had calmed down as he
climbed a short hill since he wanted to change his route and followed
a narrow trail towards the top of the hill to reach his village on the
other side. He surely felt a lot better, and quite unexpectedly, a tune
rose from within his essence to his lips, and he started singing a local
tune; soon, he reached the top of the hill and found an old man on a
donkey right ahead of him. He greeted him and then asked,
“Are there any partridges around here, Uncle?”
“I have seen a couple of flocks over that mountain,” the old man
pointed to the other side of the horizon.

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mother had waited for him to get up so she could talk to him, so she
could look at him, so she could look at her first and only child, a man
now, a graduate from the university, her pride. All night, she wondered
about what to prepare for him, what to treat him with. She knew it was
difficult for him to live away from his mother’s touch while studying
in the city, attending classes, writing exams, and all. She had prepared
some cheese pies of her own recipe with lots of sugar and cinnamon,
which she knew he loved. She expected him to rise late since he had
travelled all day yesterday; she fixed his coffee and walked to his bedroom.
To her surprise, he was not only awake but also dressed.
Hermes’ father, George Dragakis, was a fifty-two-year-old man
who grew up in the orphanage, placed there by his mother, a young,
unmarried woman who got pregnant out of wedlock. George grew up
in the orphanage until he reached the age of eighteen, when he went
back to the village where his mother and natural father lived. He had
two stepsiblings on his mother’s side: a brother, Demetre, who lived
in Athens, where Hermes stayed while in school, and a sister, Katerina,
who lived somewhere in Germany. He also had a few stepsiblings
from his natural father’s side, but his father had never told Hermes
how many there were and whether they had any children.
Hermes’ father was a reticent man, and it was rare to be able to
start a conversation with him. It was Hermes’ mother, Despina, who
told him the story about his father and how they got married soon
after he came back to the village from the orphanage. Despina was a
chubby sixty-four-year-old woman, a saint, as her son thought of her.
She had only love in her heart, so much love for everyone, but mostly
for her only son Hermes, who was her pride.
“Oh, Mother,” he said affectionately and embraced her. “I will
have to leave you soon after breakfast because I need to go up to the
monastery. I promise we will have a long talk when I come back.”
“Why do you need to go to the monastery, son?”
“I need to look for something in their library. I will go by the
orchards to say good morning to Father first and then carry on from
there. I will be back for lunch.”

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