OLGA GRUSHIN
393
and turned her into a goddess. She became known as a protectress of
sailors and fishermen, appearing most famously in an episode of
The
Odyssey
as a rescuer of Odysseus himself. Later myths narrated that
during severe storms Ino would occasionally pity the youth and beauty
of a drowning sailor and grant him eternal life in her underwater
palace."
A dull headache beginning to throb in his temples, Constantine stared
at the page. There was an asterisk next to Ino's name, and he looked
down mechanically. "Ino was otherwise known as Levkothea," read the
footnote. "Until recent times, the center of her worship was located on
a small Aegean island of the selfsame name."
V
JUST AS HE HAD FEARED, the winter in Inos was unbearable. The skies
were low and gray, it drizzled frequently, and his dislike of the island
and its inhabitants grew with each sea story told over cheap wine in the
taverna, with each sleepy evening spent in Maria's company, listening to
the drone of rain on the roof. He had nothing to do and little to occupy
his mind-so little, in fact, that he sometimes found his thoughts stray–
ing to the wind seller. The story of Ino the sea goddess, after causing him
some slight initial unease, in the end served only to increase his mistrust
of the place. The woman, whatever her real name, was obviously inso–
lent enough to attempt lending respectability to her trade in supersti–
tions by claiming an illusory connection to an ancient myth, and the
villagers were so steeped in laziness and gullibility they let it pass. This
half-hearted brandishing about of dead beliefs angered Constantine to
no end, and on particularly dreary days he even contemplated donning
his uniform (he had long since stopped wearing it), marching to the
other side of the island, and arresting the fake daughter of Kadmos. But
the shore was bound to be windy, the cypresses on the way to her cave
would probably dump cold rain onto his head, his blazer needed iron–
ing, and then, what difference did it make anyway? Soon he would leave
this island, never to return.
Toward the middle of January he received the anticipated word from
Georgos . A modest security position awaited him in Athens in early
March. That very weekend, he made a trip to Chios and bought an
expensive pair of earrings and a matching necklace for Angeliki. In Feb–
ruary he acquired a habit of drawing a big red cross over each passing
day in his pocketbook calendar. His life became heavy with waiting.
When his last evening came, Markos, Andreas, and a few others plied
him with drinks at the Leaping Oyster, but he sensed their feelings of
