Metis, the Octopus and the Olive Tree

 
A novella for young readers

1.

At YiaYia"s* House

Metis often thinks about the island where she was born. When she was too young to go to school, she used to think it was a large island. If you started from Metis"s village and rode on a donkey for a whole day, taking the narrow track up over the mountains, you would reach the other side of the island, where her grandmother lived, by sunset. But if you caught the bus that left from the village square early in the morning, and followed the new coast road, you would arrive at YiaYia"s house, in the village beyond the mountains, in time for lunch.

Metis remembers it clearly: a small, white house like a sugar-cube. Every spring, Metis helped YiaYia put fresh whitewash on the walls with the broom she used as a paintbrush, so that the house would look bright and new for Easter. The wooden shutters were repainted blue.
At the back of the house were some olive trees, Asproula the white goat and half a dozen rust-red hens. In front of the house was a courtyard, with red geraniums in blue tins and a grapevine growing on a trellis above the table. In summer there were leaves and fruit, a shady hat to sit under. It was a good place to sit and watch the sea.
YiaYia would spread the table for lunch with bread and olives and white cheese, tomatoes and cucumber and meatballs, or small fish fried in golden oil to make them crisp and brown.

The grown-ups" afternoon nap was followed by coffee and mastikha sweets. Metis and her cousins lined up too for YiaYia"s special treats. Metis liked to watch YiaYia scoop spoonfuls of the sticky, chewy fondant from her special jar and stand each spoonful in a glass of ice-cold water. You could see the white vanilla sweet submerged inside the glass. That was why the island children called this sweet a submarine. You could lick it and nibble it and chew it for a long time, but you could not make it dissolve in the water.

After dinner, YiaYia would tell stories in her living room, where there were beds around the walls for visitors. In winter she would light a fire in the corner fireplace, then settle herself in a shawl in her old soft chair and begin to speak. The words would float like magic pictures all around the room, while the kindling popped and shot out sparks behind the grate. Best of all, Metis loved to listen to the tale of the octopus, the young fisherman and the golden bracelet.

"There was a young fisherman called Manos," YiaYia"s voice began, and Metis felt a shiver of anticipation.

"He dreamed of marrying Marina, the loveliest girl of the village. But Manos was poor, his fishing boat was old, and he knew Marina"s father would never give them his blessing.

"Marina smiled at Manos when she passed with the other girls on her way to church or the market-place, but she never spoke to him because it would not have been proper.

"Sometimes her heard her singing, out of sight inside her courtyard. Like a nightingale, she put her heart into her songs, and he was sure the words were meant for him.

   Who, oh who will marry me,
   and set me free
   from these high walls?
   Who is brave enough
   to ask for me?
              Marina sang…

When she was only three or four or five years old, Metis would fall asleep before the story ended. YiaYia"s voice was like the waves of the sea, a lullaby.

*YiaYia (Greek): Grandma, Бабушка.
Pappous (Greek): Grandpa, Дедушка

2.

YiaYia, Pappous, and Magic Tales

There were many interesting objects in YiaYia"s house - curios and souvenirs from voyages Pappous had made, and photographs from all over the world: YiaYia"s brother in the United states, her cousins in Canada… Now there would be some of Metis and her parents in Australia, because they had left the island too, several months before.

Among YiaYia"s treasures was an old hand-tinted portrait of her and Pappous on their wedding day. Pappous was wearing his sea-captain"s uniform, with braid and brass buttons, and medals on his chest. He had a captain"s cap and a fine moustache, and piercing eyes.

YiaYia was wearing her traditional island costume with embroidery on the tight bodice, heavy necklaces of coins, and white lace on the blouse and petticoat under the bodice and striped skirt. Metis had studied that photograph so many times that now she could remember every detail. On her wedding day, YiaYia had long, silky hair like a mermaid, and sea-green, sparkling, bewitching eyes.

Of course, she had changed a lot since then. Nowadays she wore black, as was customary for widows on her island: a black dress, black shoes with thick black stockings, and a black headscarf covering her silver hair. Under the headscarf were two long silver braids, fastened together at the back to form the English letter V.

As Metis grew older, YiaYia"s stories seemed to glow more brightly. The beginning of the story about Manos and Marina seemed to belong to an early time in Metis"s life, but when she was old enough not to fall asleep at Marina"s song, the next part of the story became her favourite:

One blue and golden afternoon, Manos hoisted the sail of his small boat and set out for the evening"s fishing. It was summer, when the light fades late. Manos sailed out of sight around the cliffs, and dropped anchor in calm water near the rocks called Sea Witches.

As Manos lowered his nets over the side of the boat, he heard the sound of a woman"s voice. It wasn"t like Marina"s, it was strange and echoey. he listened to the unfamiliar song:
                Oh who will find
                my golden bracelet,
                lost in the emerald sea?
                Who will be the lucky one
                to bring the prize to me?

Manos looked east, looked west, looked north, looked south. He looked in the sky, he looked in the sea, but he could see nobody, only a dark shadow under the water beside his boat.

"Who is there?" he called, but the only reply was the words of the song. This time, the refrain was different:

                Who will be the fisherman
                to win Marina"s beauty?

Manos became angry. Who was taunting him? Some demon under the water? He pulled off his jersey and dived into the sea.

3.

Leaving the Island

The day Metis and her parents sailed from their village on the tall white ferry that would take them to the mainland airport, all the fishing boats followed the ferry out of the harbour, so that the villagers could wave and call goodbye to them. Few people left the island these days.

YiaYia wasn"t there to see them off. Metis was thinking of her though, in her small white house on the other side of the mountains, and she felt certain YiaYia was weeping too.

The ferry hooted, and suddenly there was only sea all around them. The island had vanished as completely as if it had never existed. How strange, thought Metis, and how frightening! Your whole world can disappear from view before you realise what is happening!

Through her tears she could see little rainbows glancing off the spray, and two dolphins arcing through the waves beside the ship. "Goodbye my island," she murmured. "Goodbye YiaYia, and happy life…"

Metis often wondered what had happened after that, because even when she tried, she couldn"t really remember. She knew she had been in an aeroplane for what seemed like forever, flying and sleeping, and flying and sleeping, and getting off the plane somewhere when it was night, and getting on again.

There were people to meet them when they arrived, friends from the same island, and a lot of waiting, talking to strangers, a new, strange language, confusion. Somehow they found themselves in a small flat in a large brick block of identical flats, in this large grey city, on the opposite side of the world from their island. Metis remembers leaving much better than she remembers arriving.

4.

A Different Life

In this new metropolis, life for Metis changed. Almost nothing stayed the same. At home her parents still spoke the island language and ate the island food, although it tasted somehow different. Their prayers and icons were just as they had always been, but somehow all the rhythms of their lives were new and strange. The patterns of the village had been rearranged in new designs, to fit in with Irini"s job at a clothing factory and Kostas"s job in Barba Spiros"s snack bar, and helping out some evenings with the taxi Barba Spiros owned.

As for Metis, sometimes she thought she must be dreaming all of this, and soon she would wake up in her familiar bed, with the sound of the sea and the shouts of the fishermen far below her window. But no, when she woke she was startled by traffic sounds, the squeal of brakes, the wail of sirens, car horns. Unnatural sounds.

Her parents were tired when they finished work, too tired to tell stories or to answer the questions that troubled Metis constantly, but which she scarcely dared ask. Questions like: "Can we go home one day? When shall we see YiaYia, and Uncle Stavros and Auntie Anna? Will I forget what our island looks like? Will I remember how we used to speak at home?

"Who will tell me stories, now that I have lost YiaYia?"

With her friend Christina, whom she sometimes saw on Sundays when their mothers visited each other, Metis usually talked of other topics, like school in Australia, where they were both struggling to understand the different ways of doing things. But even with Christina, Metis felt shy. Although she was from Greece, she wasn"t from the island, and they went to different schools. Their mothers knew each other from work.

Christina seemed to sense the things that Metis couldn"t say. "Do you still get homesick?" she would ask sometimes.

"Yes," a small voice would reply. "All the time."

"Me too," echoed Christina"s sigh. Then, "What do you miss most?" It became a ritual.

Invariably Metis would say, "My YiaYia and YiaYia"s house, the village life, the sea…" Sometimes she would add things like, "swimming in summer with my cousins near the Cave of Seals, and going out on August nights in Uncle"s boat with the lanterns to fish for squid." At other times she would tell Christina, "You know what else I miss? Cuddling the goat kids when they are small and soft and sweet… gathering the ripe figs and grapes in August… harvesting the olives from the mountain terraces in December…" Or she would ask her friend, "Do you remember the festivals when everyone wears special costumes and there is dancing on the threshing-floor, and singing and music all night long? There are so many things I miss, Christina."

"Me too," Christina would agree. "I miss hearing my own language at school and on the street, and I even miss the things I was afraid of in the village, like old mad Yannoula in the cemetery, who thought I was her little lost child; and Kyrios Fotis"s billygoat that chased me once, and Sly Nikos the schoolmaster"s son, who used to throw stones at me on the way to school."

Metis understood how Christina felt. "I never thought I"d miss the things that scared me on the island either, but I do. Here is much more frightening than our villages, Christina. Don"t you think so too?"

To take their minds off gloomy thoughts, Christina had a remedy. "Hey, let"s ask if we can go to the park and see what the Australian kids are doing."

But of course they were not allowed to go alone. They had to be escorted by Christina"s brother, Jimmy.

Usually the Australian kids were just riding their bikes or playing with their dogs or kicking a ball or throwing frisbees, but one day Metis and Christina had a taste of danger.

Several boys stepped out in front of Jimmy, so that he couldn"t pass. Metis and Christina were behind him.

"Where ya from?"

Jimmy didn"t answer.

"Yeah, we know. Souvlaki eater! Where"s ya little skirt or are ya in disguise today?"

They sniggered, ready to move away. But Jimmy stepped towards them, snarling. "You know nothing, vlakas kangaroo!"

"Go play with your worry beads," another of the boys taunted. His friends chortled their approval.

It was too much for Jimmy. "I show you, hamburger head," he yelled and lunged at his tormentors.

Then Jimmy was on the ground in a tangle of bodies and vicious feet, and Metis and Christina were shrieking their alarm. Before serious harm was done, some adults arrived to break up the skirmish.

Christina and Metis were pale and shaken. Jimmy spat out dust and grass, rubbing his bruised ribs and shoulders. "You say anything at home and you"ll never get out of the house again," he warned them grimly.

Metis and Christina wondered why it had to be a secret.

5.

Something Missing

Eavesdropping was an easy way to pick up words in English. You could also learn all kinds of facts and information, Metis found. One day she was sitting within earshot of some "skippy" girls. One of them, Big Julie, noticed the shy, dark-eyed girl picking at the olives and white chees in her lunch box.

"What"s ya name again?" said Big julie, planting herself in front of Metis. "Oh yeah, I remember now. Metis. Hey Metis, wanta bring ya roller blades to the carpark after school?"

Metis was mortified. What was Big Julie talking about?

"We could probably lend ya some if ya haven"t got your own," Big Julie offered, her round face beaming down at Metis.

Metis tried to focus her attention. Big Julie"s shaved head and row of earrings winking round the edge of one pink ear were distracting. "I… don"t think so," she said. "Thank you."

"Suit yaself," Big Julie shrugged, and walked back to her friends.

The lives of "skippy" kids were quite mysterious to Metis. What they ate and drank, the clothes they wore, the games they played, and where they went in their spare time were all things that Metis set out to discover more about.

Sometimes she even fantasised about being a "skippy" girl, reading romance stories and sneaking out with make-up on, listening to music on a walkman, having a bicycle to ride, and what was it Big Julie had? Some roller blades? And new jeans carefully disguised to look like old ones, and joggers like Big Julie"s friends. She wouldn"t shave her hair, though. Her parents would disown her, and besides, she didn"t want to look like Big Julie. But going to the video club instead of struggling with homework might be fun, Metis thought.

In fact, she felt like two people inside one skin at times: the girl from the island and the modern girl she sometimes felt she was about to become. Who would have dreamt of such a thing, back in the village?

It was scary to think of all that modern freedom, though. Some of the kids in Metis"s class went out without their parents, and seemed to do whatever they liked at weekends. On the island, families were never like that. Children helped their parents, and parties were for everyone.

Metis overheard her father commenting on this new state of affairs.

"Why they have children, the Australians?" he growled, his eyebrows twitching fiercely. "Today in my taxi they smoke, they swear, they got five earrings in their ears - that"s only the boys - and the girls, they got no hair! What a country. Irini, we gotta be careful, here is dangerous for Metis!"

It was the longest speech Metis had ever heard her father make about his fears for her. Her own fears were different, private, and too painful to confide to anyone, in case they turned out to be true.

Metis was afraid she would not find a real friend in this unfamiliar place. Now that there was no contact with Yia Yia, who would understand her? Although Irini was loving and kind, she could not always read her daughter"s mind. Christina was nice, too. Metis liked her a lot, but Christina could not make up for something Metis felt she had lost.

Metis couldn"t tell whether it was YiaYia she grieved for, or part of herself that had been left behind on the island, though what part it was she couldn"t say. But one thing was certain, something was missing from this new life.

6.

A Letter from YiaYia

The first day of school in Australia had been an ordeal Metis wished only to wake up from. The large, concrete buildings, the uniforms and the hordes of children confused her. There were as many children in Metis"s classroom as there had been in her entire school on the island. Never in her life had she felt so out of place, and having to make an attempt to speak English only made it worse. The sounds didn"t match any objects Metis recognised, and she felt silly with her face contorted, trying to speak the English way.

She longed to be back in the whitewashed island schoolhouse, with the blue and white flag flying in the courtyard and views of the harbour from the windows. She closed her eyes and saw the barefoot, shabbily dressed island children crowded at the scratched and scabby desks, reciting their maths tables and spelling aloud, or scraping unaccustomed pens across a clean, white page, lowering their heads as Kyria Maria thundered her instructions, threats and reprimands.

That night Metis was nauseous and feverish. Irini thought she must have caught a virus from the other children, but Metis didn"t believe that for a moment.

"I want YiaYia," she sobbed.

Irini felt desperate.

"Metis, don"t cry like that. Here, let me sing to you." And cradled in her mother"s arms, Metis listened to the island songs until, still sniffling and hiccoughing from time to time, finally she slept.

As Irini arranged her daughter"s covers and tiptoed from the room her face was grave, and her heart felt like a boulder in her chest.

Had they done the right thing, leaving their poor island to come and build what they hoped would be a happier life on the other side of the world?

As she struggled to get used to her new school, Metis couldn"t help thinking of YiaYia. Even though YiaYia had not suffered from homesickness and not understanding a strange language, for the first time Metis realised how YiaYia must feel, not being able to read and write while other people around could. Things had been different when YiaYia was growing up. Most children went to school for only a year or so, and sometimes girls didn"t go at all. They learned how to sew and cook and spin and weave instead.
When YiaYia received a letter from Australia or the United States or Canada, she would ask Aunt Anna or Uncle Stavros to read it to her, and when she wanted to send a letter, she would tell Aunt or Uncle what she wanted to say, so they could write it for her.

       Dear Metis,
       (Aunty wrote for YiaYia)
       How lonely it is in the village without you! How we miss your smiling face!

       We are whitewashing the cottage, and soon it will be time to make the Easter bread, and dye the eggs, and make everything ready. I hope you haven"t forgotten how to do these things.

       Asproula the goat has twin kids, both white like her.
ou should see the spring flowers now! There are poppies and irises and anemones everywhere!

       Uncle Stavros has a new donkey. His name is Kyr Mendios, the same as the old donkey.

       What is it like in Australia? Tell me all about your new village.
                A thousand kisses,
                YiaYia

YiaYia knew so much, thought Metis, it seemed odd that she couldn"t read or write. her stories were far more interesting than anything Metis had ever read in books.

7.

A Photograph

On top of the corner cabinet in Metis"s new home were photographs of people from the island. It was like Yia Yia"s house, in reverse.

There was a blurred photo of YiaYia, taken several years before at an island wedding, and snapshots of Aunty Anna, Uncle Stavros and their children, Mina and Vasilis.

Closest to the icons, and always flanked by sprigs of rosemary, was a photograph that contained a clue to the destiny of Metis and her parents. It showed her two elder brothers, Nikos and Manolis, who had been lost at sea with their father"s fishing caique six years earlier.

It was something that could happen in the islands at any time of year. A bourini or meltemi or sirocco would blow up out of nowhere, and the voracious sea would snatch the island"s sons away, as it had been doing ever since there had been fishermen.

Nikos and Manolis were never seen again. The little boat called "Ikaros", their father"s livelihood, was swallowed by the tempest, and no traces of his sons were found.

After the customary time of mourning came to an end, Metis was told her parents wished to leave the island. Although they still had family there, their sorrow was unbearable. Everything in their surroundings seemed to magnify their grief. Kostas knew they"d have no peace unless they left.

Even in Australia, Metis heard Irini weeping for her drowned sons, and asking why they had been taken from her. Kostas would console her at such times, and hold her in his arms and tell her not to weep. "God has his reasons," he would say. But he was grieving too. Irini and Kostas lit candles at church every Sunday for Metis"s brothers lost at sea.

Because of the tragedy that had changed her parents" lives, Metis sensed there would be no going back to the island. They did not wish to be reminded of their loss. They wanted to turn their backs on the sea.

8.

An Olive Tree, an Octopus

In the street next to the one where Metis lived, there was a house with an olive tree. Metis took a special interest in that house because of the tree. It was the only visible link in her new surroundings with the place she had come from, and like Metis, it didn"t seem to belong.  Metis wondered how the olive tree had got here. She knew an Australian family lived in the house, because she had caught sight of them one day, getting out of their car.

Metis would have liked to tell YiaYia about the tree, but she was afraid that if she tried to write a letter, the lump she kept feeling in her throat since they had left the island would suddenly grow bigger and choke her. Metis hoped YiaYia would realise why she couldn"t write to her. She had never written a letter before. It wasn"t the same as talking.

One night, after Metis had lingered on her way home to gaze at the olive tree, she dreamt she was back on the island telling YiaYia about it. YiaYia was explaining something Metis had sensed but could not put into words.

"Metis my child," she was saying. "You are like that olive tree. You can grow tall and strong whether you are there or here, because you are young. The only difference is, here on the island there are so many olive trees that nobody takes any notice of them. There, in Australia, they must be rare. There are not so many of them, so when you see one, you notice it. And when something is unusual, it becomes somehow special…"

It was an odd thing, but as Metis woke and tried to remember the conversation from the dream, she found herself remembering the next part of her favourite story, the way YiaYia used to tell it.

The words came floating to her like starfish on the tide…

"Manos pulled his jersey off and dived into the sea. A long arm slithered round his neck. Manos was startled. It was the tentacle of a very large octopus. He felt panic, but before he could act, the tentacle drew him close until he was face to face with the creature.

"Friend," the octopus began, to Manos"s astonishment. "I lured you with my song because I need your help. I see you are surprised to hear me speak, but I am not what I seem.

"I used to be a mermaid, until a cruel sea-witch changed me into an octopus for defying her. But then an old wise woman who was turned into an eel told me how I could reverse the spell. The eel-woman told me that my golden mermaid-bracelet lies in a cave at the foot of a cliff not far from here, one metre under the sea.

"Only a young fisherman can bring it back to me. If it is returned to me, I shall again become a mermaid, free to swim the seas instead of lurking in these gloomy rocks.

"I myself went to retrieve the bracelet, but this was not so simple. When I tried to grasp it, the bracelet slipped off the end of my tentacle. The eel-woman told me that was part of the spell.

So I have been waiting…"

"Why did you choose me, of all the fishermen?" asked Manos.

"Because I can do something for you in return," replied the octopus.

"What can you possibly do for me?" asked Manos.

"I can tell you how to gain the blessing of Marina"s father."

"So all I have to do is bring you the bracelet?"

"You must place it on my front left tentacle, close your eyes and hold it in position while you repeat: "Sea witch, set the mermaid free," until the spell is reversed," replied the octopus. "Then, all will be well."

9.

Meeting Lucy

Metis was still fascinated by the house with the olive tree. She felt that it contained some special meaning for her, something she could not yet decipher. In the meantime, she changed her usual route so that she would pass the house on her way to and from school.

A few times she caught sight of a girl about her own age, with red-gold hair in braids, wearing a school uniform. Once, Metis thought she saw the girl smile at her.

One afternoon, as Metis was passing the house, a small dog ran out with its lead trailing, towards the open gate. The girl with red-gold hair was chasing him. "Max!" she was shouting. "Max, come here!" But Max kept running and shot past Metis, catching his lead on her foot. Metis grabbed it just in time, so that Max was stopped in his tracks, yelping a protest.

Max"s owner stopped beside Metis, too, red in the face. Taking the lead from Metis"s hand, she spoke. "I"m Lucy," she said. "Thank you for saving Max. He"s already been hit once by a car, but he"ll never learn. Haven"t I seen you before? What"s your name?"

Lucy"s freckled, blue-eyed face was friendly.

"Metis," the dark-eyed, dark-haired girl at the gate replied shyly.

"Metis… you"re not Australian, are you?"

"No. I come from Greece. From an island…"

"Oh, Greece!" said Lucy. "Oh, you"re lucky! My mum and dad have been to Greece. They loved it."

Metis looked at Lucy in astonishment. She didn"t know what to say.

"Tell you what," said Lucy, "why don"t you ask your mum if you can come to the park with me and Max? We were just on our way there now. That"s why he got excited and ran out the gate."

"My mum"s not home from work yet," said Metis wistfully. She began to edge away.

"Well, what say we walk as far as your place, for company."

Metis"s face lit up.

Lucy wanted to know about Metis"s life on the island. Metis found it easy to talk to Lucy, but found such questions puzzling. "Why do you want to know these things?" she asked. She wasn"t used to "skippy" kids taking an interest in her. So far, Big Julie had been the only one. Jimmy said if they took an interest in you, it was a bad sign.

Lucy wrinkled her nose at Metis"s question, and paused before answering.

"Well, I s"pose because it all sounds much more exciting than living here; it"s so dull, you never meet anyone interesting. I want to travel. I want to visit places I"ve read about… mysterious, faraway, ancient places."

Metis turned warm eyes on Lucy. "I think I understand," she said.

"But please don"t tell anybody," said Lucy. "I know my friends would laugh. And my mum would tell me I"m dreaming again."

They had stopped outside the flats where Metis lived. Lucy wanted to prolong the conversation, but Metis thought she had better go. There were things she was expected to do before Irini returned from work, like bringing in the washing, and setting the table, and peeling the potatoes.

"I have to go now, Lucy," she said shyly.

"Come and see me soon," said Lucy, rushing off with Max, who kept straining at the leash.

Metis gave a few little involuntary skips as she went through the gate, like one of YiaYia"s goat kids.

10.

The Golden Bracelet

Rushing into her room to reflect in privacy on the meeting with Lucy, Metis caught sight of herself in the dressing-table mirror. Who was that girl with the radiant face and glowing eyes? Then she froze. What if Lucy didn"t like her? What if she found Metis boring, or strange? What was it Jimmy had said? "You can"t trust the "skippies"", he had warned the girls. "They smile to your face, then laugh behind your back." A chill ran through Metis and her features recomposed themselves in their habitual cautious mask.

Would Lucy"s parents have any idea what Metis"s homeland was really like? Or would they be like most tourists, content with what they found on the surface, sensing nothing of the mysteries and traditions that Metis and her parents were aware of, even if they didn"t speak about them.

What would Lucy expect of Metis? Would the Australian girl see her as some kind of novelty, then get tired of her and move on to more interesting friendships? Metis couldn"t bear the thought of being rejected like that. She struggled to put her thoughts and feelings into words. For a long time she remained in her room, curled up in the corner of her bed against the wall, letting the darkness gather so as to hide her and protect her from these new uncertainties.

What was it YiaYia had said when she and Metis were saying goodbye to each other? Something about an olive tree? That was it! "My Metis is an olive tree, strong and healthy, different from Australian trees. Who knows what that difference is, or why? But I know she will not forget where she has come from. Does a mermaid ever forget the sea?" Engulfed by a great wave of homesickness, Metis closed her eyes. Was this why she kept going back to Lucy"s olive tree?

…Metis felt as if an octopus had taken hold of her and was dragging her down into deep, murky water. She struggled and thrashed and gasped for breath, then drifted, drawn down through a world of peacock colours, green then blue then violet. All around were indigo sea-caves, sub-aquatic grasses, marine plants that reached up to receive her, wrapping slimy tendrils round her legs. Mother-of-pearl fishes darted in front of her face and nibbled at her toes and fingertips. Baby crabs and squid explored her floating hair. Was this where the drowned sailor-boys were taken by the sea? Metis began to choke on sea-water and lack of air.

It must have been a dream, because the sound of her own voice calling out jolted her awake again. She needed to remember the end of YiaYia"s story. It had become somehow important. Confused from sleep and the impressions of the dream, Metis tried to concentrate.

As she lay fully conscious with her eyes closed, a mist seemed to lift and she could see her island clearly for the first time since they"d left it, shining in front of her, floating in transparent air and crystal water.

When Metis looked into the waves, she could see every pebble on the sea-bed. She could see, too, the webs of golden light where afternoon sunrays slanted through glassy ripples to illuminate the shallow cave at the base of the cliff.

"As Manos"s small boat was lapped and rocked by a gentle swell, webs of light danced and swayed in the emerald water, and played across something that gleamed and glinted in a cleft of rock.

The golden bracelet!"

11.

From Octopus to Mermaid

"Well," said the octopus as Manos reappeared before her. "Did you find the enchanted cave?"

"Yes," said Manos. "And there was a voice coming out of the cliff."

"What did it have to say?" asked the octopus, trying to sound casual.

"First the voice asked: "What is your name and trade?" And of course I replied, "I am Manos, son of Petros, and I am a fisherman.""

"And then?" prompted the octopus.

"And then it wanted to know: "Who is your heart"s delight, and your love for life?""

"And what was your answer?" urged the octopus.

"I said, "Marina and Marina. She is my heart"s delight and my love for life,"" repeated Manos. "But why did that old echo want to know?"

"You will see," purred the octopus. "Now, have you brought anything for me?"

"Is this yours?" asked Manos, taking a glittering object from his trouser pocket.

"Ah!" was the reply. "Now, remember what I told you?"

Clasping the bracelet around her front left tentacle, Manos took a deep breath of air and spoke the magic phrase, "Sea-witch, set the mermaid free," repeating the words over and over until he began to fear they had lost their power to transform the octopus. Then he realised he was no longer clasping a tentacle. In his rough brown fingers was a slender wrist, circled by a thread of golden chain.

Manos heard a ripple of laughter and saw before his eyes a pale, bewitching face. He raised his arm to shield the apparition from his gaze. He felt afraid. What magic could this be?

The laughter pealed again, and then a sweet voice murmured in his ear, "Manos, you have passed the test. Now go to the harbour. The first man you will see will be Marina"s father. Tell him Marina"s godmother, the mermaid of the harbour, has sent you to ask for his daughter. This is also the dearest wish of Marina. Do as I tell you, and all will be well…"

Metis sighed. YiaYia"s stories were one thing, but life had a different logic. She felt comforted, all the same.

When Irini switched on the light to call Metis for dinner, she found her daughter sleeping, her face no longer troubled, a pillow clutched to her chest like a friend.

12.

An Exchange

Sometimes in the afternoons Lucy would wait for Metis to pass her front gate, so they could walk together as far as Metis"s place. One day as they trudged along Lucy asked, "What"s your name mean, Metis?"

"Well," said Metis slowly, "I don"t know what it means, but a long time ago, in the myths, there was a woman called Metis. Actually, she was a kind of goddess…"

"And?" said Lucy. Metis hesitated. She was mentally selecting the English words she"d need to tell the story.

"Is that all you know about her?" prompted Lucy.

"She was the wife of Zeus," said Metis.

"Zeus? Who was he?"

"Zeus was a god in the old times. Before there was a church and one God, there were many gods in Greece. And goddesses," said Metis.

"So what was he like, this Zeus?"

"He liked to play with thunder and lightning. And when he was angry, people suffered. He had many wives too, but Metis was the first one."

"What happened to her?"

"I don"t know how to tell you," said Metis. "It"s difficult for me, in English."

"Try," said Lucy.

"Well, Metis was very … wise. One day, Zeus found out she was going to have a child, but this didn"t make him happy."

"Why not?"

"He was afraid, in case his child would be too clever, too wise. Maybe smarter than him."

"Really? But if he was a god, why would he be afraid?"

"How can I explain? You see, sometimes the old gods were just like people. They got jealous and things…"

"So what did Metis do?"

"Well, he swallowed her…"

"You mean Zeus?" Lucy"s eyes were popping.

Metis nodded.

"First he turned her into a fly. Then he swallowed her. He thought this would  be a way to keep all the wisdom inside himself."

"And did it work?" asked Lucy.

"Not the way he thought," said Metis. "Zeus got a terrible headache after he swallowed Metis, and he asked Hephaestos to kill the pain."

"Who?" said Lucy.

"Hephaestos made the shoes for the horses, and swords and things…"

"Oh, I get it. Sort of a blacksmith."

"Hephaestos didn"t know how to kill the pain, and Zeus"s headache just got worse and worse. He asked Hephaestos to hit it with a hammer, and that is how Athena was born."

"How do you mean?" asked Lucy, looking sceptical.

"Well, when Hephaestos hit Zeus on the head with a hammer, his head just opened and Athena came out."

"Far-out!" said Lucy.

"Yes. Everybody thought Zeus was very clever. They all forgot about Metis. Athena, Metis"s daughter, was a goddess too."

"How do you know this story?" asked Lucy.

"From my YiaYia," said Metis. "She chose my name."

"Did she make up the story herself?" asked Lucy.

"No, Lucy, I told you, it"s an old story, a myth. In my village, many people know the myths. They are part of our tradition."

As they were approaching the entrance to Metis"s place, Metis turned to her friend. "Anyway, Lucy, what does your name mean?"

"It means "light"," said Lucy, and Saint Lucy"s symbols are a lamp and a pair of eyes. My mum told me."

"Oh," said Metis, "that"s a lovely meaning. In Greek we also have a name that means "light" - Fotini. It comes from "fos", our word for light. But I like Lucy better. It sounds like "light" in English."

"I"d like to go to Greece some day," said Lucy.


13.

Opposition

"No," said Irini firmly. "We don"t know these people. How can you go to their house when we"ve never seen them before?"

She caught sight of Metis"s agonised expression and hesitated. "Poor child," she thought. "She hasn"t really got any friends at school yet. Maybe this Australian girl is not so bad." Irini tried to dismiss from her mind all thoughts of bizarre clothing, shaved heads and multiple earrings.

"Metis," she said more gently. "Bring her here one day. Saturday, let"s say, when I"ll be home. Okay? Tell her to ask her mum to bring her, so she can meet me and your father. So she knows their daughter will be safe with us."

Although Metis wasn"t aware of it, Lucy was having a similar conversation with her mother.

"Who?" said Mrs Trehearne. "Metis? Is that her first name or her surname?"

"Oh Mum, it"s a Greek name. You like Greece, don"t you?"

"Yes, but… oh Lucy, you"re always bringing someone or something home to add to your menagerie. If you remember, the last time this happened it didn"t work out at all. We had the parents on our doorstep, thinking we"d kidnapped their child and goodness knows what else."

She caught a glimpse of her daughter"s flushed, crestfallen face.

"Oh very well then, if you must… but don"t expect me to act as if I"m overjoyed…"

Lucy was truculent but cautious. She didn"t want to provoke her mother further. She worried the table-leg with the toe of her shoe, frowning at the afternoon tea in front of her. Then she said, "You just don"t understand, Mum. Metis is special." 

14.

A Letter to YiaYia

For the first time since she"d left the island, Metis felt she could write to YiaYia. Since her departure from the place she still thought of as home, she"d been overcome by emotions she"d never known before, and couldn"t name. Every time she wanted to express her feelings, a choking sensation would stop her. Now the words flowed freely. She felt almost herself again.

Dear YiaYia,
                Oh, how I have missed you! I have missed you and the island and everything there until I thought I would die! Can you imagine how it has been, YiaYia?

It was so hard coming here. I didn"t know anybody and I hated trying to speak the awkward language. The words got stuck in my mouth, and sometimes people didn"t listen, or they laughed, or got angry. YiaYia, I have been so unhappy!

Now it is getting better. I can speak more English, and people listen, they don"t laugh or get impatient when I try to speak.

Jimmy calls the Australians "skips" and says they don"t like foreigners. They are not the same as our people, but maybe they are nice when you get to know them.

Our apartment is small, but this is the biggest village you have ever seen, except for Athens. Of course, it is not really a village, it"s a metropolis. They have that word here too. Papa says the sea is not far away, and I"ve been wanting to talk to you about the olive tree. It"s outside Lucy"s house.

That is my best news, meeting Lucy. She lives in the house with the olive tree. She says she wants to be my friend, so I hope she means it. Now I have Lucy to talk to, somehow I don"t feel so lonely.

We are longing for you to visit us. Papa is saving for your ticket. Will you come? I will take good care of you, and show you lots of new, exciting things. We can ride in a train, and go to the seaside, if you like.

Give my love to Asproula the goat, Aunty Anna, Uncle Stavros, and Mina and Vassilis. Tell them they have to come for a visit one day, but there is no place in the world like our island. 

                A thousand hugs and kisses,
      
                Metis

P.S. I have been invited to Lucy"s place on Saturday, to meet her family.

15.

The Name"s Day Party

As Metis"s birthday approached, there was an air of secrecy and expectancy in the apartment. Metis could almost imagine rainbows dancing in the air, like the ones beside the ferries to and from her island. It would be Metis"s first birthday since leaving the village, and as usual at this time, there would be two reasons to celebrate, since her name"s day coincided with her birthday. Both fell on All Saints" Day. Metis would be thirteen years old.

To make the occasion even more special, Lucy had been invited, and of course Jimmy and Christina would be coming with their parents.

Metis ran the tips of her fingers over the folds of the new sky-blue dress lying across her bed. She would wear it to church in the morning. Beside it lay the new blue jeans and white blouse she would wear for her party afterwards. Metis couldn"t decide which of the garments pleased her more.

In the kitchen, Irini was singing as she prepared pastries with almonds and honey, and other delicacies for her daughter"s feast day. The next morning they would go
to church in another part of the city, and everyone who shared the same name"s day would be there to exchange greetings.

Afterwards, at their flat, she and Kostas would welcome the guests, and there would be music and singing and eating and dancing. Irini smiled to herself as she thought of the pleasure in store for Metis.

In the morning, Kostas wished Metis a happy name"s day, drove her and Irini to church in Spiros"s taxi, then disappeared. Metis wondered why he didn"t join them, but didn"t ask. Perhaps he would return for the party afterwards.

Back at the apartment, in her new blue jeans, white blouse and joggers, Metis was too busy to notice her father"s absence. Lucy arrived with flowers and a gift, and the two friends hugged each other like sisters. Metis hoped that Jimmy would restrain himself for once from making rude comments about kangaroos.

Christina was fascinated by Lucy. Who was this exotic friend of Metis with the red-gold hair, candid eyes and warm smile? But soon they were talking and laughing like old friends. Jimmy was on his best behaviour. Looking
at Lucy seemed to make him forget his low opinion of
"skips".

Metis"s eyes were shining as she looked around her. What else could she possibly need to make her happiness complete? Before she could phrase the question, the doorbell rang. Everybody stopped talking and turned towards the sound. Irini ran to open the door, then stood aside, revealing a small, silver-haired figure, dressed in black, clutching a shabby shopping bag as if she"d just arrived home from the village.

Metis shrieked, turned pale, and swayed as if she would faint on the living-room floor.

When she recovered from her dizziness a few moments later, she saw that it was really true. The figure was now seated on the sofa, cradling the girl. "YiaYia?" she whispered in disbelief. Then she spoke the name aloud, "YiaYia!"

The others watched as Metis and YiaYia embraced with tearful smiles, incredulous at being reunited. Soon the festivities regained their tempo. Someone turned up the music, which had been hastily turned down. Voices rose to their previous pitch. Kostas took Irini by the hand, and led her to the small clear space surrounded by the furniture, where they began to dance a traditional island dance. It was the first time Metis had seen her parents dancing since her brothers, Nikos and Manolis, had been lost at sea. YiaYia"s dancing days were over, but she clapped her hands in time, smiling a little wearily after her long journey.

Metis didn"t want to leave her side. She glanced across at Lucy, anxious that her friend might feel left out, but Lucy was smiling back at her, happy to see Metis so transformed. "Lucy, come and meet my YiaYia," called Metis. Having introduced Lucy, Metis ran to fetch refreshments. In the flurry of YiaYia"s arrival, this had somehow been overlooked.

As Metis handed YiaYia a glass of water and some sweets, the old woman leaned close to her and said in a low voice, "All is well, my child, all is well. The octopus has become a mermaid, and Metis"s story will be better still. Many secrets are hidden in the sea. And miracles do sometimes happen, even for you and me."