OLGA GRUSHIN
399
to spread along his back, and it seemed to him that the wind was
becoming sharper, making it harder to fight against it. Hardly troubled,
he uncorked one of the bottles and took a long swig of the sour wine,
thinking of Angeliki, of their future house in the suburbs, of sipping a
martini in his favorite Plaka bar. When the bottle was empty, he threw
it overboard and curiously watched it bob up and down in the dull
green waves.
It
got much easier after that. Darkness was stealing over the sky, but
he could see well enough, and he told himself that every time his oars
cut through the unwieldy waters, he was brought another step closer to
Chios, to Athens, to the rest of his life. After a while he opened the sec–
ond bottle. The wine was surprisingly good this time, and he drank it
slowly, savoring the sweet, tangy taste with a hint of orange blossoms.
It was completely dark now, and as he stretched out on his back on the
bottom of the boat he could see three or four stars. After some minutes
of stillness, a gigantic bird swept over his head and flew off with vigor–
ous flaps of its eaglelike wings, singing hoarsely. Constantine felt young
and strong and mysteriously empowered, and the gusts of wind slapping
his face made his spirit soar with exhilaration.
Then an unexpectedly high wave tilted the boat sharply, and one of
the oars rolled and began to slide overboard. Moving as in a dream, he
sat up and grabbed its end, but his grip was not strong enough, and in
slow motion it scraped along his palm and slipped out into the water,
leaving nothing but a slimy sensation in his fingers. A cold spray flew
up into his face, stinging his eyelids, and he was suddenly seized with
terror of a kind he had never known. He had to close his eyes and hold
still, not breathing, not thinking; but in a minute the same bird flew by
with its comforting song, the wind seemed to subside, the boat stopped
dipping, and slowly the fear loosened its coils and released him. Things
were not so bad after all, he said to himself-the night was calm, he was
more than halfway there, and he still had one oar left. Bit by bit he felt
his certainty returning, a conviction that he was meant to get where he
was going, that there was such a thing as destiny, and that it was wait–
ing for him. He touched the salty wetness of his sea-drenched cheek
with the tips of his fingers and laughed softly, dimly guessing at some
tremendous joke of which he was now a part. Yes, it would all be fine,
all he needed was a little bit of rest, just a few minutes of lying quietly,
looking at the stars that circled in a brilliant dance through their remote
eternity. Just a few minutes of facing the skies... .
