disappeared and Guppo could hear
her yelling to her siblings to clean up the back patio.
It was almost an hour later when the car was
emptied and the family, including Guppo was seated at the back patio. The view
of the northwestern tip of the island was in plain sight. The sun disappeared
off to their left making the northern waters look purple. It had been a hot day
but now it was cooling. Flaming tiki torches encircled the eating area.
Bottled soda and a coffee with warm cream were
brought out as requested. Anna stirred her thick coffee in its tiny cup.
Bernie said, “We’re making headway, yes sir.” He
winked at Guppo who smiled and drank his soda pop.
Anna nodded but she had hoped to make it all the
way to her cousin’s home. Instead, they had taken the back way and again, they
were forced to stop for the night. Belatedly, she realized that the so-called
shortcut took twice as long because the roads were in such disrepair. If she
had been traveling alone, Anna would have skipped the meal, retiring to her
room to have a good cry.
Later as the night arrived in earnest bringing a
wet chill, Anna and the children fell asleep but Bean took her pillow – the one
she used in the car and went to Bernie’s room.
His room had a kerosene lamp turned low. He
seated Bean at a square wooden table. There were two chairs in the room so
Bernie sat in the other one after closing the window shutter and setting the
lamp on the window ledge.
Bean unzipped the cushion and brought forth the
journal. As she adjusted the cushion in the chair for her back, Bernie plucked
the notebook up.
Examining the several excerpts, he said, “You
read it dear. You were always the better reader… go ahead.”
“Oh, nonsense! Mr Adams, we both know you’re a
natural when it comes to memorizing lines, acting and whistling. Your whistle
is so clear and strong. It always was,” she responded as she adjusted her reading
glasses.
Bernie let out a quiet chuckle, “We weren’t the USO
but we were an act! Weren’t we? Our performances were superb although your acting was done behind the scenes… We put our lives on the line during the war.
I was so proud to be doing my bit for our country… for freedom!”
For several minutes, they discussed their
nation’s dismal future prospects; America was in ruins. Would the citizens rise above it?
And also, they reminisced until the inevitable tiff broke out between them. At
this point, with more force than before, Bernie said again, “You read it, dear.
You were always the better reader… go ahead.”
And because she thought he put such an ugly
emphasis on the word “dear,” Bean agreed that she was the better reader.
She began to read.
Chapter 19 ...But Who Will Guard the Goat?
As the seasons changed, Greek industriousness
moved to high gear. Summer was the time of lazy living while the other seasons
were filled with harvesting, canning, baking, bartering and all the rest which
in turn allowed for the celebrations of summer.
Old Bethania was the leader of the Jews who
congregated at the villa. There was a synagogue in the Kerkira Jewish quarter, and the
small band had visited there individually. The cultural and religious warmth
that had made the Jewish section of town a magnet to wealthy Jewish tourists in
the early 1900’s had cooled since the Final Solution arrived with the Nazis
during WWII. Although, it had remained touristy when tourists were still coming
to the island.
A handful of those taken away to Auschwitz and some who escaped
beforehand, returned after the war. Greece was not a welcoming place in those post-war
years and so, most of the remnant Jews of the Ionian Isles left for greener
pastures. It was only recently a contingent of young professional Jews had
arrived and were living and working in the capital. Bethania had heard
promising rumors about these young people but she knew none of them personally.
She didn’t know of any of the originals,
her yelling to her siblings to clean up the back patio.
It was almost an hour later when the car was
emptied and the family, including Guppo was seated at the back patio. The view
of the northwestern tip of the island was in plain sight. The sun disappeared
off to their left making the northern waters look purple. It had been a hot day
but now it was cooling. Flaming tiki torches encircled the eating area.
Bottled soda and a coffee with warm cream were
brought out as requested. Anna stirred her thick coffee in its tiny cup.
Bernie said, “We’re making headway, yes sir.” He
winked at Guppo who smiled and drank his soda pop.
Anna nodded but she had hoped to make it all the
way to her cousin’s home. Instead, they had taken the back way and again, they
were forced to stop for the night. Belatedly, she realized that the so-called
shortcut took twice as long because the roads were in such disrepair. If she
had been traveling alone, Anna would have skipped the meal, retiring to her
room to have a good cry.
Later as the night arrived in earnest bringing a
wet chill, Anna and the children fell asleep but Bean took her pillow – the one
she used in the car and went to Bernie’s room.
His room had a kerosene lamp turned low. He
seated Bean at a square wooden table. There were two chairs in the room so
Bernie sat in the other one after closing the window shutter and setting the
lamp on the window ledge.
Bean unzipped the cushion and brought forth the
journal. As she adjusted the cushion in the chair for her back, Bernie plucked
the notebook up.
Examining the several excerpts, he said, “You
read it dear. You were always the better reader… go ahead.”
“Oh, nonsense! Mr Adams, we both know you’re a
natural when it comes to memorizing lines, acting and whistling. Your whistle
is so clear and strong. It always was,” she responded as she adjusted her reading
glasses.
Bernie let out a quiet chuckle, “We weren’t the USO
but we were an act! Weren’t we? Our performances were superb although your acting was done behind the scenes… We put our lives on the line during the war.
I was so proud to be doing my bit for our country… for freedom!”
For several minutes, they discussed their
nation’s dismal future prospects; America was in ruins. Would the citizens rise above it?
And also, they reminisced until the inevitable tiff broke out between them. At
this point, with more force than before, Bernie said again, “You read it, dear.
You were always the better reader… go ahead.”
And because she thought he put such an ugly
emphasis on the word “dear,” Bean agreed that she was the better reader.
She began to read.
Chapter 19 ...But Who Will Guard the Goat?
As the seasons changed, Greek industriousness
moved to high gear. Summer was the time of lazy living while the other seasons
were filled with harvesting, canning, baking, bartering and all the rest which
in turn allowed for the celebrations of summer.
Old Bethania was the leader of the Jews who
congregated at the villa. There was a synagogue in the Kerkira Jewish quarter, and the
small band had visited there individually. The cultural and religious warmth
that had made the Jewish section of town a magnet to wealthy Jewish tourists in
the early 1900’s had cooled since the Final Solution arrived with the Nazis
during WWII. Although, it had remained touristy when tourists were still coming
to the island.
A handful of those taken away to Auschwitz and some who escaped
beforehand, returned after the war. Greece was not a welcoming place in those post-war
years and so, most of the remnant Jews of the Ionian Isles left for greener
pastures. It was only recently a contingent of young professional Jews had
arrived and were living and working in the capital. Bethania had heard
promising rumors about these young people but she knew none of them personally.
She didn’t know of any of the originals,
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