leave.
He slips from the stool and walks to the edge of the platform, wondering if the shake in his legs is visible. He could just put his instrument away now and keep walking. A movement in the crowd near the stage catches his eye. Abby straightens her skirt at the back to sit down next to Stella. She looks him right in the eyes and gives him a warm smile and a little nod as if to say 'go on.'
There is a compartment in the case where the strings are kept. His fingers tremble as he moves a piece of folded paper to get to the strings. The crowd talk amicably amongst themselves as he puts on the new string and stuffs the old broken string back into the compartment, then picks up the folded paper. He is about to stuff that in too when he wonders what it is.
Unfolding the sheet, he recognises Jules’ handwriting. He reads. He reads again. The words blur with unspilt tears but also a smile comes to his lips. Standing with confidence, he flashes Abby his best smile, his head turned to the side so the slight overlap of his teeth doesn't show. Taking his place again on stage, instead of playing the tune he rehearsed in his bedroom, he opens with the chords of the haunting melody.
The square silences. Even the children in their best clothes and bows stop running between tables. The whole village is on hold and then come the words that Jules has left him, on a folded sheet tucked in his bouzouki case. The title is 'Amongst the Orange Trees'. The words fit his haunting tune and enhance all its exquisiteness.
He begins to sing and, for him, the world disappears as nature closes in on him, the heat of the day wraps over him, the cicadas become his chorus, the olive trees sway to his melody, and time stands still as the moment is captured.
'I didn't set my alarm last night
I woke up this morning with the new sun
gently warming my face.
I got dressed
I didn't put on my watch
I told the time by the rumbles in my belly
I dined on its silence all day
I listened to myself for a change
Outside I listened to the birds
They didn't chastise me for
my ignoring them for so long
They were happy to have my ears back
to listen to their song
I was happy to listen
I was lost without thought
A deeper connection that leaves me vacant
to not think
and just be
for that moment amongst the orange trees.
There is a deadly hush as the song echoes its end and then, as a mass, the village is on its feet. The girls gathered at one table scream as if he is a pop star. The zither player, when their eyes meet, bows deeply. Katerina is hopping from one foot to the other, and Abby is clapping with her mouth open, eyes open, and hopefully her heart open.
It is as if he has won again. But this win is more than he ever hoped for. He has just won a place on the earth he can call home, and found music at his fingertips that is a real reflection of his spirit.
It seems almost a shame to spoil the moment with more music. But the village is waiting, and he does play on, and they accept each offering with greater applause than the last. But he knows the first was the best.
When he finally steps from the stage, Katerina is all of a dither.
'Did you see him?' she asks.
'Who?' Sakis has no real interest; his eyes are on Abby. Maybe he can sit with her, walk with her, dance with her.
'That big guy. What's his name from Athens Music,' she enthuses. But Sakis has no interest.
Stella welcomes him to her table and Abby's eyes are for him alone.
The next day, Sakis wakes slowly. Following Jules' advice, he did not set an alarm, and his watch is discarded by the bed. Over breakfast, the sun warms his face and the birds sing to him, whispering new tunes, peeping out their own lyrics.
But it is not to be a day of peace.
He leaves the hot pot of breakfast coffee to briefly wander to the kiosk in the square for a paper, only to discover that the local rags are full of the discovery of a 'new star'. Vasso, the lady in the kiosk, enthuses and praises
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