Green Neon

39 He would have gone to jail for me

Tom meandered through the streets of Athens like a robot. The penultimate day of his vacation was the first on which he was alone and did what a normal tourist would do. The task he had set himself turned out to be extremely difficult. Since he would only be able to tell select episodes of his adventures at home, he at least didn't want to bring home any ordinary souvenirs for his relatives, but rather objects that symbolized the adventures and feelings of his four weeks in Greece. The longer he pondered what to give to whom, the less he could imagine what could meet his requirements.

He had for himself two souvenirs. One was his diary. He had updated it almost daily with succinct entries, but in a few cases summarized conversations with his friends over several pages. In the morning he made his last entries and wrote down addresses and telephone numbers that he had collected on many individual pieces of paper on the last two pages of the booklet.

The second was a small wooden box in which he kept a few things: a sea urchin carcass from Mykonos, tiny pebbles from Corinth and Delphi, a thread from a fishing net from Salamis, and a box of self-igniting matches with a picture of the Parthenon temple on it.

He visited the flea market in Monastiraki, perused various trinkets and finally decided to buy a small earthenware amphora for his grandmother. He had an idea for his parents when he passed a bridal shop in whose window the typical sugared wedding day almonds were displayed. He bought a pound, which the saleswoman filled in a gauze bag and placed it in an elegant cardboard box.

It was s somewhat insidious souvenir, he thought. For his parents, this was just a tasty snack—both of them loved almonds in any form. For him, this gift was associated with the memory of his worst, but somehow also the most beautiful day of his stay in Piraeus.

He visited the National Museum and browsed various ancient artefacts, but he might as well have sat blindfolded at a sidewalk cafe or listened to the waves on a deserted beach - his body was moving among the antiquities, but his mind was everywhere and nowhere.

***

"We're breaking this off," the secret policeman decided after Tom's shadow had read him a long list of sights and businesses visited. He sent his subordinates home and pondered. The German's girlfriend, Sophia, the daughter of an ex-naval commander, and her brother Georgios could also be members the resistance group. It could not be ruled out that they were also used for courier orders.

"We'll monitor them every now and then," he thought.

Then he took a couple of neutral sheets of paper from the drawer and summed up his findings about Tom in German. He carefully folded the three pages and put them in a brown envelope with some other papers, called a flower shop and ordered 10 pink carnations for his wife. A little later, a messenger exchanged the bouquet for the envelope.

The secret policeman picked up the phone and called his driver.

"Please pick me up at home at six tomorrow. We'll drive to Piraeus and later to the airport. Don't write a report on it."

***

Even as Tom lay in bed, he couldn't hold a thought or even finish it. He knew he would meet Nikos again the next morning, but he hadn't the slightest idea how they would spend the day. He also knew that he would see many of his friends at the Rafina dinner that evening. He knew he would be boarding a plane at eleven the day after tomorrow. He had, however, absolutely no concept of time after that, in Hohenberg, 2000 km from Athens, from Sophia and Nikos.

In the morning, Tom and Nikos sat on the balcony, two mugs of Nescafé and a large plate of sweet pastries in front of them. The masts of the sailing boats in the marina swayed in the wind, and the white houses were blinding in the sunlight. The conversation was slow and Nikos kept yawning.