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PARTISAN REVIEW
few weeks, and men before marriage were prone to jitters and odd
behavior, so they went out to sea thinking nothing of it, only shouting
affable farewells and laughing softly to themselves, expecting never to
see him again. But when they started trickling back into Inos in the early
evening, fish flopping at their feet, he was still there, waiting dejectedly.
It appeared that the boat from Chios had failed to come. It soon
became clear that something was the matter-either the captain had
fallen ill, the motor had broken down, or the assistant's wife had gone
into labor. The men crowded around Constantine, talking all at once,
explaining things, commiserating, laughing, patting him on the shoul–
ders. He understood nothing of what they were saying, only that the
boat would not come today.
It
would come tomorrow. Ah, but tomor–
row was too late, he had to get out today, now, had to leave behind this
accursed island .. . .
And suddenly everything was simple.
"How far is it to Chios?" he asked expressionlessly.
His voice was quiet, but immediately the noise died out around him,
and the men looked uncertainly into his wild, set face . Then their words
rose into the air, garrulous, bantering, loud, and perhaps slightly scared
underneath. It was far, very far to Chios, maybe twenty kilometers,
maybe twenty-five, who knew exactly, in any case on ly a motorboat
could make it, but there were none to spare, and just what precisely was
he thinking?
"Oh, nothing," he assured them in the same dead voice. "I just
wondered."
They peered into his eyes once more, then laughed with relief,
slapped him on the back, and set along the path to the village . He went
with them; Andreas helped him drag his heavy suitcase back to Maria's
for one more night. But in another hour, he returned to the dock, alone,
walking quickly, still carrying the two bottles of wine. Feeling an odd
certainty, he contemplated the harbor before him. In truth, he knew very
little about boats and even less about the sea, but he had rowed as an
adolescent, and he was sure he could do it. Twenty kilometers was not
all that far. Humming softly, he chose one of the smaller crafts, thinking
it would hardly be missed. When he got in, it swayed under his weight,
and a thin stream of water seeped in between its boards. He smiled and
pushed away.
Evening haze soon began to swirl around the island of Levkothea,
and breathlessly he watched as it receded from sight, now a shadowy
hill on the horizon, now a black strip, now a dot. Steadily, confidently,
he rowed on. After the first hour, his arms grew sti
ff,
a fiery pain started
