Kornaros's Classic Poem in Longhand by (an 12-year old resident of Crete) Manolis Emmanuel Aligizakis
Greek Canadian Literature Libros Libertad Manolis Aligizakis
Coins
Rusted coins tingle
in your pocket valueless to
merchants and
smile of statue you hide
in memory of the same value
sun splashes on tattered
yesterday’s newspapers
perhaps the toothless
café patron will notice
the number of dead
and injured on highways
to the ancient grounds
where ghosts in mid air
fury their unjustly killed
excerpt
…and the old woman got so used to Eteo that, when
he wasn’t there, she would usually ask her daughter where that man
from the day before was, as Ariana always laughingly informed him.
At home, everything went as it should. Eteo was well used to taking
care of his three boys and the house. Ariana and Eteo spent some of
their nights together, mostly at her apartment but now occasionally
at Eteo’s house, and it no longer surprised the boys when they saw
her come to the house with her clothes in a hanger.
One sullen day, wet and unsure of itself, Eteo sat in his office resting
his eyes on the eastern horizon and thinking about how to deal
with Richard’s Golden Veins. He still had a small number of shares,
but the market had dried up and the purchase orders dwindled as
soon as Bernard placed the stock options at 55 cents. This had given
Richard the money he needed to satisfy the operator’s cash call, but
somehow the investors had vanished, and the stock now looked very
weak. Perhaps it was a play by Richard to make sure Bernard wouldn’t
turn around and resell those shares soon after buying them. Canarim
had bought the biggest number of shares and the others had gone in
two smaller lots to Georgia Securities and Haywood. Eteo watched
carefully to see if any of that stock came back into the market. He
had promised to let Richard know as soon as he saw anything suspicious.
He had almost dozed off when Helena buzzed to inform him that
his ex-wife was on the phone. He picked it up.
“Hi, what’s up?”
Eteo heard breathing but no words.
“What is it, Roula?”
“I’ve been wondering about that woman.”
“Oh? What is there to wonder about?”
“It makes me wonder because she was having dinner with my
sons,” Roula replied.
“She was having dinner with me and my sons. They are my sons
too, don’t forget.”
“You’ve always seen these things differently. Who is she anyway?”
“None of your business, Roula.”
“As long as she’s around my boys, I make it my business.”
excerpt
It was from Kazan, he told her. It was unsigned and did not use the words “jazz with Ella” but it gave the date of their arrival at the Hotel Rossiya. He looked uncomfortable.
“But I don’t understand. I didn’t send a telegram,” Jennifer told him.
His face crumpled. “So there is no hope for me. I will not leave the country?” he asked.
“No…yes, there is hope,” she responded breathlessly. “So you know nothing of the plan…I wonder who sent the telegram. David? No, because he asked me…and it couldn’t have been Maria because she…”
“Forget telegram. What plan? Tell me quick.”
“I’ll do better. I’ll show you.” She produced Paul’s passport from its hiding place in her money belt and held it in front of his face. “You are now Paul Mercier, my dear. Here’s a picture of you. Saturday, you will fly out of the country under this name.”
She watched mixed emotions: awe, anxiety, and maybe some hint of calculation in his expression. He took the passport from her fingers and gazed at it. A minute passed.
Finally, he spoke. “For such a long time, I have waited for this. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.” His speech was curiously formal considering that the two of them had been rolling in intimate embrace not 20 minutes earlier.
“Well, thank Paul, too.” She thought it odd he hadn’t asked her how she had acquired the passport or what Paul was going to do. But perhaps the full impact hadn’t sunk in yet. “Now, Mr. Mercier, I have to trim your hair and find you some new clothes. Maybe even some Hush Puppies, like you wanted.”
It was past midnight before she dressed again, kissed Volodya on the lips, and darted down the hall to David’s room. She knocked softly and he opened the door immediately.
“Come in. Just writing in my notebook. It’s hard, you know,” he told her. “I can’t write anything about you-know-who in case someone reads the journal…” He looked at Jennifer.
“You’re glowing. I take it your reunion with your beloved was satisfactory.”
Jennifer blushed. “It sounds as if Maria spread the word. I’m sorry to bother you so late…I’m looking for clothes.” David moved to turn the radio on to drown out their conversation in case anyone was listening. “I need the leather jacket again and any shoes that you can spare.
excerpt
“Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua lucea eis . . .” I
reached the end of the requiem and asked God’s mercy for my
friend’s soul.
I did not care that Guacaipuro was left waiting for me to appear.
One of the many plants I had unearthed served as my discipline. I
chastised my body for hours, beseeching the Lord to accept my pain
in payment for the sins of my friend, who could no longer redeem
himself.
The wind that swelled the sails of my faith had stopped blowing.
Myfaith hung flaccid from the yards of dogma. I slumped and wept.
After the tragic battle, Guacaipuro had returned eager to kill me
and send my remains to Losada. He suspected me of having
somehow warned my people. I wouldn’t have seen another day had
it not been for Urquía.
She had followed her husband against his wishes and had almost
been killed. Her servants brought her back to the village bleeding
profusely in her portable chair. She had received a harquebus shot to
her hip, taking a sizable chunk of tissue out of her womanly
roundness. The servants—captives from another tribe—were
terrified, for they envisaged her husband’s rage. I, who was
unaware of his suspicions, had luckily, by the time he arrived at
vespers, taken care of his beloved wife with the help of his sister,
Tiaroa. God had seen to it that she recovered enough to appease the
cacique’s fury.
He warned me that I would die if she did, but when she
recovered, his gratitude was palpable. After that, he honoured me
by inviting me to share his dinner. I had no inkling that he would
avenge his defeat with such horrifying brutality, sending Tamanoa’s
head, arms and legs to Losada.
Guacaipuro usually dined in the company of some of his warriors
and his family; when I appeared before him, as summoned, I was
therefore rather surprised to find him alone that night. Urquía lay in
a hammock in the background, but she was either sleeping or
intentionally quiet.
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 