by Paula Gail Benson
The seafront of Thessaloniki, as it was in 1917
From: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thessaloniki
In
November of 1940, Fascist Italy bombarded Thessaloniki, Greece, leaving more
than two hundred dead and almost nine hundred wounded. Nearly a thousand
buildings were damaged or destroyed. The Italians failed to invade Greece and
the remaining residents of Thessaloniki -- named for a Macedonian princess to
honor her father’s decisive victory at the Battle of Crocus Field in 353 B.C.
-- struggled to prepare for holiday celebrations.
Zayle
and his younger brother Marios set out in their small caique on the Aegean in
late December seeking a magnificent fish for their January first Saint Basil’s
Day celebration. Zayle hoped for a golden bream, while Marios sulked.
“Fish
is no feast food,” he grumbled, leaning upon the edge of the skiff as Zayle
steered. “We eat fish every Friday.”
“And
are lucky to have it in these hard times,” Zayle told him. “How many people are
starving? With businesses gone and supply lines cut, how many do you see
begging for food and shelter?”
Marios
sighed. “I know. But I still can’t help dreaming of a table filled with sliced
pork or lamb, rice pilaf, stuffed yiaprakia leaves, olives, and lovely fried
lalaggia pastries sprinkled with honey.” He sighed again, just imagining the
flavors of those delicacies.
“Ah,
you’ve forgotten the Vasilopita.”
“No,”
Marios assured him. “I would not forget that treat. If only we could have one
filled with gold coins.”
“Did
you know the Vasilopita initially was served to honor the goddess Demeter, to
ensure a successful harvest?”
Zayle
had been the family’s scholar before Papa was injured and could no longer work.
Zayle did not complain about assuming the responsibilities, but he often
inflicted his learning upon his younger brothers.
“No,”
Marios said. “I like the Saint Basil story better.”
“But
do you know why Saint Basil placed the treasure in a cake?”
This
lesson was getting a bit tedious. Mario endured. “So, it would be like opening
a present?”
Zayle
paused before answering. “In a way. The king had taxed the people, taking all
their money and jewelry. After hearing Saint Basil’s plea, the king
reconsidered and returned the items to Saint Basil. Not knowing how to
distribute them, the Saint baked them into a cake. He prayed and called the
people together to serve them. When he cut the cake, each family miraculously
received their own valuables in their slices.”
“Wonderful,”
Marios said, his eyes still upon the choppy waters surrounding them.
“Look.”
Marios
turned to see Zayle pointing out in the distance. Following the direction,
Marios saw a gleaming scaled body jumping from the water. Was that a golden streak
along its back?
The
fish’s massive tail brushed spray into Marios’ face. “It’s huge. Maybe eighteen
kilograms.”
“Golden
bream usually aren’t so large,” Zayle said.
“Whatever
it is will be massive on the table.” Already, Marios could imagine a hefty
serving decorated with dried fruits and feta cheese. “I still wish it had
swallowed a sunken treasure chest.”
Zayle
laughed. “Then it might not be so tasty. First, we’ll have to catch it before
we can feast upon it.”
“Hurry
up,” Marios urged. “It’s swimming into the cove.”
For
a few moments they lost sight of the mighty fish as they turned the caique to follow
it. Then, as they rounded the bend, they saw an enormous rock in the center of
the cove’s waters. A young woman appeared to be sitting on the rock’s crest
with her back turned to them, her dark hair flowing down in ringlets. Slowly,
she turned to face them. A golden and jeweled crown nestled upon her head. From
the waist up, she was nude and instead of legs, she swished the glittering fish
tail they had followed against the water at the rock’s base.
Her
huge brown eyes filled with tears. “I must know,” she said. “Does King
Alexander live?”
Marios
knew a bit about government but found her question confusing. “Does she mean
the young king who died of a monkey bite before King George returned from
exile?” he asked.
“No,”
Zayle shouted. “That is not our answer.”
His
words came too late. Already the mermaid had grown in stature with wings
sprouting from her shoulders. Her face became mottled with festering blisters
and strands of hair rose up as hissing snakes.
“For
you, there is doom,” the deep voiced words came from her gaping mouth and a
long tongue lolled between the lips.
A
mighty wave crashed into the caique, breaking it in two and tossing the
brothers into the writhing waters. The mast fell upon Zayle’s head, knocking
him senseless. Marios grabbed onto his brother’s shirt, somehow managing to
drag him to land.
When
they were found, hours later, Zayle remained unconscious, breathing shallowly,
while Marios spoke wildly about a sea monster that capsized their boat. After
local fishermen identified them, they were taken to their family home, another
tragedy visited on the Thessalonikians.
*******
A
few days later, on December thirty-first, the eve of Saint Basil’s Day,
Thanasis watched as a family approached the ship upon which he had been
recently employed. The parents huddled close to their children, a young boy and
girl, both looking as if they might be around twelve years old. The children
seemed apprehensive. He could empathize with them. This was his first voyage.
Many would have considered him too young to hire as a sailor, but with so many
dead or injured after the bombing, workers were needed. After his two older
brothers suffered their accident and loss of their caique, Thanasis had to find
a job to provide financial support.
When
the family reached the gangway, the boy turned to his parents. “We’ve never
been away from you on our name day,” he said.
His
mama put her arm around his shoulders. “We will only be parted physically. In
spirit, we will be together.”
The
papa sought to embrace his entire family. “Those born on New Year’s Day are
graced with strength and fortitude so they may fight for themselves and others.
The time is coming when those talents will be needed. We are sending you where
you will be safe.”
“Where
you may be able to help us in the future,” the mama added.
The
captain called out for them to board. After tearful goodbyes, the children
embarked, clinging to their meager baggage while keeping their hands clasped
firmly together.
Shaking
his head, the captain said, “Not much money to book your passage, but I suppose
we should be grateful for any travelers these days. Thanasis, show them where
they will be bunking.”
“Yes,
sir.” Thanasis turned to the boy and girl. “Follow me.”
Quietly,
they descended to the lower level. The compartment seemed very confining to
Thanasis, who intended to spend as much time as possible on deck. The children
appeared to find comfort in a small space to call their own.
“May
we set out our Saint Basil’s Day feast?” the girl asked.
Thanasis
noticed she wore a Star of David on a chain around her neck. “I don’t know of
any reason not to, but you might get pressure to share. I think some of the
crew has gone days without proper rations.”
“We
always have enough for guests,” the girl said solemnly. “And we leave a plate
for Saint Basil.”
Thanasis
frowned. “You celebrate for Saint Basil even though you are of a different
faith?”
Shrugging,
the boy said, “Our parents always indulged us, since it was our name day. I’m
Billy and this is my sister Vicky.”
Of
course, Thanasis thought. Two Saint Basil’s Day names.
“We’re
twins,” Vicky added.
“I’m
Thanasis,” he told them. “Let me know if I can help you.”
Back
on deck, Thanasis saw the captain taking on a last-minute passenger, a cloaked
man carrying a staff and small sack.
“Monk
returning to his order,” the captain explained. “You can show him below.”
Thanasis
did as he was told. The monk remained silent as he sat on the berth that
Thanasis indicated. Thanasis wondered if he served an order where the monks did
not speak.
A
short time later, the ship was underway. Thanasis stood on deck with his arm
around a mast. Mists of sea spray dampened his face. Had Zayle and Marios
encountered harsh conditions on their last voyage? No one knew what to make of
their accident with Zayle lingering in a coma and Marios continuing to babble
incoherently about the experience. Thanasis hoped they might return to normal,
but he had begun to have doubts.
“What
do you make of that?” the captain asked, taking a spy glass from his eye and
handing it to Thanasis.
Taking
the glass and looking in the direction the captain had been observing, Thanasis
noted what appeared to be the largest fish he had ever seen jumping from the
waves. “It must be a tuna,” he suggested, although he had never seen one that
big.
“No,”
the captain disagreed. “The scales aren’t right. I’ve heard tell that a mermaid
inhabits these waters. Brings sailors good luck, if only they answer her
question correctly.” The captain steered to follow the fish as it disappeared
into a cove.
Thanasis
feared seeing the change in course and hearing the captain’s speculative
belief. He had listened to enough of Marios’ ramblings to know that visions on
the water could lead to disaster.
“Can
we afford to lose time on our journey to investigate an illusion?” he asked,
hoping the captain would not find his question mutinous.
“We
both saw something like a giant fish leaping from the sea,” the captain
replied. “That is no illusion. When you’ve been a sailor as long as I have,
you’ll know not to ignore any sign, whether it be fair or foul warning.”
As
they rounded the bend, they saw a rock jutting up from the center of the cove.
On it, a young dark-haired female sat watching their approach. She wore a
golden and jeweled crown. Below her waist, she had a fish body and tail instead
of legs.
Her
huge brown eyes filled with tears. “I must know,” she said. “Does King
Alexander live?”
“Wait.”
From
behind them, Thanasis and the captain heard an unfamiliar voice. The monk, his
hood draped to his back, strode forward to stand between them and the mermaid.
“My
dear,” the monk called to her. “He lives, rules, and
conquers still. You just need to know where to find him.”
Beginning
with her sparkling diadem, the mermaid’s body slowly transformed into a
glittering sphere of lights. It rose and traveled through the air to land on
the deck of the ship. Then it became the figure of a beautiful woman, outfitted
like a queen.
“Good
sir,” she spoke, her voice like a summer wind murmuring through the trees.
“Show me where I might find him. We have been parted too long.”
“I
rejoice to reunite you, Princess. Let us go below where a feast awaits.”
The
monk held out his arm so that she might lay her hand upon it. As they moved to
the lower level, the monk’s rustic robe changed into a glowing garment, and a
shining mitre covered his head.
“Billy,
look,” Vicky cried, as she saw them descending. “Saint Basil has come indeed
and brought with him a beautiful lady.”
The
Saint smiled as he approached their humble table. “You have prepared a
sumptuous banquet,” he said.
Placing
his hand on the rough-hewed table, the Saint turned it into a lavishly
appointed surface, covered with a gleaming cloth. In the center, a round
Vasilopita decorated with almonds and cinnamon waited to be sliced. Before the
Saint sat an empty plate and beside it a knife.
“Will
you serve our Vasilopita?” Billy asked.
“I
take great pleasure in cutting each portion.” The Saint took up the knife. As
he made the first sliver, a golden light illuminated the center of the treat.
“Look,
Billy,” his sister said as the slice was placed on her plate. “It’s as if you
can see the future inside the Vasilopita. We are older.”
“Yes,”
her brother agreed. “Walking on the streets of New York with our parents.”
“Remember
this image well and work diligently to achieve it quickly,” the Saint advised.
“You have heard that people have been disappearing in Germany. In less than
five years, Thessaloniki will be under German occupation and the Jewish
population will be deported. Only a few will survive.”
“Thank
you, dear Saint Basil,” Vicky said.
“We
will remember,” Billy promised.
Saint
Basil turned to Thanasis. “The next slice will be yours.”
Thanasis
had no time to speak before receiving a portion of the Vasilopita. He gazed in
its center and saw his brothers, Zayle and Marios, walking along the seashore.
“Good
Princess,” Saint Basil explained. “Your question took this boy’s brothers by
surprise. The elder knew the proper response – that Alexander lives, rules, and
conquers still -- but the younger based his answer on another royal family. For
the love you bear your brother, will you not remove the Gorgon’s curse on this
family, so they may fish these waters in peace?”
The
Princess inclined her head with dignity.
Looking
down at the Vasilopita, Thanasis saw his brothers waving to him, as if saying
all is well, return home to be with us.
“Is
it respectful to know the Princess’s name so I may express my gratitude?”
Thanasis asked.
“Already
you know it well,” Saint Basil told him. “You live in the city that honors
her.”
“Of
course,” the captain said, bowing low to both the Princess and Saint Basil.
“The daughter of Philip of Macedon and the step-sister of Alexander the Great.”
The
Princess looked at Saint Basil. “You have told me that my brother Alexander
lives, rules, and conquers still. Will you take me to him?”
Saint
Basil bent his head toward her. “Alexander has conquered new worlds where this
ship cannot travel. If you bless these good people on their journeys, I will
take you to him.”
Holding
out her hands, the Princess said, “May this voyage and all future travel be in
safety and with great reward.”
“Your
graciousness matches your brother’s courage,” Saint Basil told her. “Look. He
awaits you now.”
Droplets
of light brightened the compartment, lifting the Princess and Saint Basil. They
could hear her calling to Alexander as the two figures disappeared from sight.
“Come,
Thanasis,” the captain called. “To your post. Let us make this journey swiftly
so I may return you to your family.”
“Yes,
sir,” Thanasis answered, following the captain to the deck. Just before
ascending, he took one glance back. Billy and Vicky embraced.
“We
shall see our parents again,” Vicky said.
And
my brothers will be restored to my family, Thanasis thought. There could be no
finer gifts than what he had witnessed on this very special Saint Basil’s Day.
Mentis Bostantzoglou (Bost), Alexander the
Great with his sister, 1984. Credit: Parallaxi, source: Daily Art Magazine
THE END
A perfect St. Basil’s Day story!
ReplyDeleteA fun, satisfying read on a holiday morning, before entire chaos descends.
ReplyDeleteWonderful story that filled me with hope and joy!
ReplyDeleteA satisfying holiday story!
ReplyDeleteDear Kait, Kathleen, Lori, and Marilyn, thank you for your kind words.
ReplyDeleteI'm so grateful to have this forum and participate with my wonderful blogging partners on messages, stories, and joint projects at Writers Who Kill. Many thanks to all my partners and to all our readers, who make the efforts worthwhile.
May you have a Happy Saint Basil's Day and be looking forward to a terrific New Year!
Very best wishes!!!