the Siren

7th of June

I`m seated on the porch enjoying my yogurt with honey and nuts, listening to Poseidon roar, shading my eyes with a straw hat from Apollo and enjoying the salty breeze sent by Zeus lick my face. Everything in this setting feels so mystical even though I know it would have felt the same if I were in Martha`s Vineyard instead, a thousand miles away. But I didn`t pay my travel expenses and it`s my first time away from my home country. I might as well go ahead and delude myself into thinking this island is indeed mystical even if it`s not…
As to why I`m in the island of Symi, in a desolate lagoon quite apart from the lively touristic town cited all the way across of the island; I`m here to write. To come up with a masterpiece that will get me famous, or at least will gain me a place in the community of writers and publishers. Hah!
The house belongs to Giorgos, an acquaintance –by now more of a friend- from college. In Boston we didn`t know each other very well. Up until the graduation party, our relationship had never gone beyond an occasional hello or goodbye when we made eye contact. Of course, we encountered each other quite regularly. We took English Literature, History and Latin together.
He was the director of all the Shakespeare plays our school put on and often the lead character too. His performance as Romeo was breath-taking, even if not as breath-taking as Juliet`s…
…I must not let my thoughts drift away.
Anyway. Giorgos was in the group of people with whom we went to the after-party. It was an all guys group and we went to a strips-club. To be frank, I wasn`t enjoying myself.
Not that I consider myself a feminist exactly, but I found such places to be revolting. As much as it`s quite atrocious that women are savoured by men like steak on a big platter, my genuine aversion arises from the hopeless and desperate state the men are in, handicapped at curbing their lasciviousness. I find it pathetic and am ashamed of my own sex.
I don`t know why it was so with Giorgos but he wasn`t interested in watching the high heeled, big breasted Barbie dolls either. I was sitting on the high-stool, sipping my martini when his dark features shaded my face and he occupied the stool next to mine. His whole face seemed to have surrendered to gravity, with his hawk-like sharp nose pointing downwards and the corners of mouth and his eyebrows tilted to the ground. He wasn`t exactly what you would call a handsome looking man, I found myself thinking, but he did have charisma.
However, at this state he was anything but charismatic. It was a wretched and drunk man sitting next to me.
That was the evening that brought me here. He shared his misery with me `I`m so in love with her, Kyle, you don`t understand!` He slammed his glass of whiskey on the counter. `Yet here we are graduating, going our own separate ways and I still haven`t had a chance to tell her!` His worry seemed so juvenile. `Then tell her.` I tried. I wasn`t the best when it came to giving advice, especially in this specific area of expertise; love. `I can`t.` He twirled the paper umbrella from my drink and ended up breaking it `She`s my best friend. I need more time.` I sighed in exasperation. It was hard to believe that he was 23. `Then make more time!` He froze, his hand holding the glass which he was rising to his lips rigid in mid-air. His left eye twitched and I could tell that my question had awoken the solution in his mind. Then, dead serious, he held my shoulders looking at me straight in the pupil `You need to come with me.` `Excuse me?` `He let go, ready to get on with a detailed explanation `You see, I was planning to spend my summer in my family`s remote house in Greece where I can be on my own and perhaps start and maybe even complete my first novel. And I thought, if I can`t succeed, I would just find a job in a magazine or a newspaper as a journalist. But you see, before I do that, I wanted to give myself a chance right after graduation.` That was quite a bright plan, I thought, but of course it helped to have the resources. Whereas all my family owned was a farmhouse in Vermont, not to mention that I was on a scholarship. `Even though I am delighted by the invitation, Giorgos, I don`t quite comprehend your where you`re going with that?` He fiddled with the broken pieces of the umbrella `I`m going to invite Penelope too, but things would move more smoothly if we had a third person with us.` `So I`m a pawn?` `You`re a friend. And besides, if money is an issue, no need to worry about it. `.
I must admit, it was a good deal on my behalf. Free vacation and an opportunity to prove myself. So here I am, licking the sticky honey off my fingers, supposedly writing my novel but instead writing a journal. I hope my writers block will clear out, as here is foggy in the mornings however the sky is crisp blue by noon.

11th of June

Penelope has arrived. My eyes having have set upon her honey will never be as sweet again, neither the sun as warming. I fear Aphrodite might be jealous of her.
Giorgos arranged it so she came a few days after us, to settle things in his mind. Though I can`t say that he is any less perplexed or lovesick compared to how he was before. He has been in his room the whole time while I went swimming and hiking. I pick up our dinner and lunch every afternoon, dropped in by the truck coming from the town. It`s always already prepared and ready to eat. As for breakfast, there is an endless supply of olives and jam and sorts in the pantry and thick yogurt in the freezer. The nearest shop is a 45 minute walk, where I buy coffee and bread. I eat it all by myself. Very seldom does Giorgos come out of his room to snack on a few shrimps or lick the bitter olive oil off the olives. He leaves the pits here and there and I`m the one to tidy up after him.
Yesterday was an exceptionally hot and humid day. Sweat was dripping like a leaking faucet off my temples. He must have been steaming in there, as there is no air-conditioning in the old building. He refused to join me to take a dip, which is the only salvation in such weather, saying that he could not interrupt the flow of his writing.
The only thing that got him out of the inferno was Penelope. We went to the main town with his motorboat. He was so keyed-up that I thought that he would steer us into the piercing rocks.
We waited on the dock. Giorgos refused to go so far as a café to get shade. So I was beginning to feel my brain bubbling and boiling. When the ferry finally arrived, the crowded group of tourists invading the narrow streets, I let out a sigh of relief.
When I saw her face, once again I held my breath, till my lungs nearly exploded to pieces.

17th of June

Giorgos has shifted his working area from his blistering room to the somewhat cooler porch table. Not for the sake of relieving his body of the torturous heat, but to be closer to Penelope. What he is working on must be quite good and passionate , he won`t even go swimming with her. I find this quite odd, but I`m not complaining. It`s to my advantage.
So, Penelope turned out to be the gorgeous Juliet. No wonder Giorgos is in so much pain. And the funny thing is she is oblivious of her own beauty. It`s as if she`s a third guy amongst us. It doesn`t cross her mind that men like us might be interested in her in another way.
Her major is acting and she still hasn`t graduated yet. This is merely a vacation for her. She joins me in my everyday activities. We rent bikes so there is no limit to our explorations except that the scenery is repetitive. There is nothing much to see except the common maki and a few goats. We tried out the public beaches as Agia Maria and Agia Georgia. We found them to be vain, packed with overly burned old women and obnoxious 15-year-olds shouting and playing cards. We had our own private little beach where we were content.
We dived and splashed water at each other under the barbed gaze of Giorgos, now writing in a furious state. Once or twice I tried to take a peek at his writing. It was illegible. Now that at dinner time he finally assented to take a break to join us at the large coarse wooden table, I had a chance to ask him about his work. He would smile to himself, muttering `It`s a surprise my dearest Kyle...`
I am not sure if I am to envy him or not. He is working with great intensity and something good if not great is bound to be the fruit. Yet it is I who spends time with Penelope…

21st of June

I must confront the truth. I am in love with her. I`ve been denying it from the start but it`s been making my summer a living hell. I finally sympathize with Giorgos and his zealous behaviour. I also hate him for it.
Her wide smile, her full lips, her pearly teeth. Her freckled cheeks, her straight small nose, her almond eyes, her thick rich eyebrows, her long eyelashes. Her blazing red hair shining in the sun, reflecting light into my eyes. Her high cheekbones, her smooth collarbones, her sharp shoulder blades. Her ripe breasts, her curving hips, her funny shaped bellybutton. Her slender legs, thin ankles, round little toes and blue little toenails.
Her footprints in the sand, her stray hair in the shower, her abandoned little sock left in the washing machine.
She ties her shoes with double knots, chews a mouthful twenty times before swallowing, goes to sleep with the lights on and sings French songs in the shower.
I love her so much it hurts. She`s an anchor pulling me down to the bottom of the sea. The lungful of water leaks all the way to my heart and now the salt is piercing my chest. She`s a siren and I the paralysed sailor.
I am lying on the roof on my own stargazing and writing. I`m alone. Giorgos took Penelope out to dinner. As he revealed his plan to me, that he would take her out and unveil his love for her, I stood and nodded encouragingly. `Hope everything goes well.` I dug my nails into my palm `Though I doubt that it won`t.`
22nd of June
He failed. He couldn`t tell her. When I heard the news I patted his shoulder emphatically before going to my room and crying out of relief. `I must tell her.` I wiped my tears `He had his chance. Now it`s my turn.`

1st of July

The search team finally found my unfortunate friend`s body. It was bloated and blue, the most grotesque thing I`ve ever seen. So I forbid Penelope`s bloody and red eyes to rest upon it and told her he was as handsome as ever. It made her cry even harder. I might as well have told her how hideous of a sight it was, it would`ve brought fewer tears into her eyes.
On the morning of the 23rd I woke up before sunrise, intending to take the motorboat to the town to get flowers and just-out-of-the-oven fresh pastry. Giorgos was up which was only expected. I suspected that he lived on an hour of sleep a day.
However, he wasn`t hunched over his pages and pages worth of messy writing. He was up on his feet, clutching his masterpiece to his chest and twirling in merriment. He was too happy for a man who had just failed at declaring his love.
When I expressed my confusion he pulled me by my hand and led me to the cliff top, the wind hiding our voices from any eavesdroppers. `It`s finished! My play is done!` he shoved the pile into my lap warning me to hold them tight bewaring the strong sea breeze.
`A play? All along I thought that you were working on a novel.` I read the title; Albino. `And that`s why I`m excited. It`s not a play but a movie script written especially for Penelope.` I felt the blood draw from my face `And I can`t be modest here, but it`s a rather well written one too. She will clearly see that my fondness for her stretches beyond friendship. This is my redemption.` I didn`t speak a word `Well? What are you waiting for Kyle, go ahead, read it! I`ll go and buy some freshly baked baguettes and daily feta cheese while you do. When I come back I`ll be expecting your review.`
He left me sitting on the edge of the cliff. Both in the metaphorical and literal sense. It took me quite a while to decode his handwriting but soon I became familiar with his triangular a`s and loop-the-loop g`s. The story was so gripping I absorbed it like a sponge.
The plot went so; an orphan red-haired girl named Eleanor (to be played by Penelope) is adopted by a celebrated and rich scientist. The scientist has two sons of the same age as her. They are albino and the real intention of the scientist is to experiment on the red-haired girls’ melanin cells. As expected, both of them fall madly in love with her. The mad scientist drags Eleanor to his laboratory to dissect her as she shrieks and one of the brothers, Augustus, runs to her rescue, minutes before the other brother, Hans arrives. Augustus stabs his lunatic father to death as Eleanor faints in his arms right after. Hans, who is completely unaware of what is going on sees Augustus`s blood-stained hands and Penelope`s limp body in his arms and confuses the whole matter up. He strikes Augustus in the head who dies on the spot. It is not evident what happens to Eleanor or Hans after the incident, or if Hans is to blame, or if Eleanor ends up with him. It`s quite tragic. It`s quite beautiful.
I flung the pages into the black waters and watched them twirl away downwards from where I stood. From the distance I could hear the motorboat and knew Giorgos had seen. I crouched on the grass, crisscrossed my legs and waited for him to rush up the hill.
I expected a punch in the nose but it never came. He kept his voice calm `You love her too, right?` I nodded `Well, I`m going to ask you to leave. Before she wakes up.` The sun was high up in the sky already. `You don`t need to pack your stuff. I`ll send them by cargo.` Again I looked up into the sky, letting my vision be blinded by the blazing ball of fire. With an impulse, I seized his collar and forearm and swung him off the cliff.

30th of July

Penelope insisted that we fill the 2 months in which Giorgos had arranged us to stay here. She seemed to be searching in the sky and soil, the seas and the trees of the island for the reason behind Giorgos`s unexpected `suicide`. `Only if he hadn`t taken away his writing with him.` she had sobbed `Things might`ve been much clearer.`
In the meanwhile, I took this as an opportunity to rewrite Giorgos`s script, as it has been inscribed in my mind word for word.
The only thing I changed was Hans`s obliviousness. I made it so he actually witnessed the whole incident but acted as if he didn`t and he used it as an excuse to kill Augustus, as if out of complete confusion. So he`s the one who ends up with Eleanor. A cheater, a backstabber, a murderer. Oh, and I also changed Augustus`s name by Giorgos.
I had made Giorgos immortal. If not by crediting him as the screenwriter, as a lead character in a fictional story.
When I showed Penelope `my` work of genius she cried, for once tears of bittersweet happiness. `That is so thoughtful of you,` she whispered into my ear before pressing her lips onto mine `You`ve brought Giorgos back to life.`.
And I killed him all over again, my love, how thoughtful of me.