Minouli Steals a Kiss
First Place
By Wynn Parks, Fri., Jan. 31, 2003
Minouli was a child of Epiphany. To the village's old women, his birth season -- of long nights, when old and new year meet -- placed Minouli in the company of satyrs and ghosts and other creatures of the in between. His withered left arm and uneven gait were the marks of his status, and even his occasional flashes of insight about others were seen as animal instinct. For, though pleasant-natured from childhood and given to laughing, at hide-and-seek, he was as elusive as a rabbit in its warren. It was plain to see: Minouli was not all there in the head.
Every evening, his Yah-yah, grandmother, sent Minouli for bread. This evening, the baker's son and two neighbor girls were arguing about jacks when they saw Minouli; the children dropped their wrangling and perked up.
"Minouli, hey, Minouli-douli!" the baker's boy gibed. Minouli's face stretched into a bristly grin. He grabbed for the boy with his good hand. The girls squealed.
"O-opah!" The boy dodged away. "Here I am, Minouli-douli!"
Minouli liked this. Growling, with mock ferocity, he made for the three children. Even with his turned-in foot, he could move quickly. His harriers scattered.
"Watch out, he'll kiss you," the boy shouted.
The girls shrieked with laughter at Minouli's charges. Then, the baker's wife stepped into the plateia.
"Leave Minouli alone! You girls go home! Alexi!" she snapped at her son. "Go get a loaf of black. Not a round one, he drops them."
A few seconds later, the baker's wife took the bread from Alexi; turned to pass it on. To the children's delight, she was met at close range by a grinning Minouli, who placed a well-aimed kiss on the side of her head.
"Get off, you fool!" She turned on the whooping children. "I told you not to get him started!"
Minouli departed, bread under arm.
"Kalo pragma! Kalo pragma! A fine thing!" he repeated, grinning to himself.
Near home, the muted staccato of a man's voice sounded down the alley.
"Uncle Pandelis," he muttered. He opened the gate to the small avlea outside the house. Now he heard Yah-yah talking, too. The sound of her voice told him that her teeth were by her bed, rather than in her mouth. She and Pandelis were talking intensely and Minouli wondered why. Inside, Yah-yah sat on a straight-backed chair, her arms crossed tightly. Nearby, Uncle Pandelis paced.
"Who will want a wife with half her face the color of wine -- and no dowry? Mama, you, and even I, God forbid, won't last forever." Pandelis crossed himself. "Then what will she do?"
"Anna will get married," said Yah-yah.
"Then she'll get married?" Pan--delis threw up his hands. "She's almost 30 and not married. Do you think men will suddenly all go blind?"
"Uncle's right, Yah-yah." Anna's voice came from the chair in the corner.
"He's wrong!" the old lady snapped. "Listen my girl, in a few years, some wives will have died ..."
Pandelis turned to Anna.
"... Your mother's doctor bills, the funeral in Athens ... was it wrong to help your mother?"
"What should I say? Yes?" For an instant, Anna's voice was sharp.
"What can I do? Perhaps there are higher callings than marriage. Talk to the sisters. Make contacts, turn some convent business our way. When there's enough for a dowry, quit!" He turned to Minouli. "Look. Here's Minouli! How would you support this great mooncalf?"
Anna sat staring at her hands, tears on her face. Minouli had crept inside, near the door, watching Yah-yah's and his uncle's faces. He knew what was being discussed was important. He'd heard it before and once offered to marry Anna himself, though he wasn't sure what was involved. When he finally saw his cousin's tears, he burst out:
"Anna's crying! Anna's crying!" He humped across the room to Anna and tried to stroke her hair before she pushed his hand away.
"I'm going away, Minoulaki! No more Anna."
"Anna's crying," he repeated. Suddenly, Minouli's eye fell on the shrine in the corner. He went to it and crossed himself; turning, he beckoned Anna.
"Kiss! Anna kiss Maria. Anna kiss."
"Anna's going away. Like your mama!" Anna said.
Pandelis raised a warning finger.
"Kiss the Virgin, for God's sake. You're upsetting him."
"Maria. Anna kiss Maria!"
"No!" She jerked away from Minouli. "I won't kiss any Virgin!"
Minouli backstroked his hair urgently, then reached for the shrine. In one breathtaking move, Minouli lifted the Virgin and started for Anna. Yah-yah's cry for divine intervention and Pandelis' warning bellow froze on their lips. They watched the Mother of God slip from Minouli's hands and shatter against the floor.
"Idiot!" Yah-yah shook the heel of her hand at Pandelis. "You started him!"
"Me?" He gestured to Anna. "Are you deaf, woman?"
Utterly frustrated, Pandelis caught Minouli on his knees, over the statue, and smacked the back of his head.
"Idiot! Go to your bed!" Then stormed out and down the alley.
Later, from his bed beneath the stairs, Minouli could hear Yah-yah and Anna talking.
Yah-yah's voice said:
"If I were you, I would ask every man I met to marry me."
"I'll never ask a man to marry me. He would have to speak first."
"Where's Maria? Anna kiss Maria," said Minouli softly.
The next morning, Minouli dressed himself. He found Anna outside in her paisley dress, watching Pandelis saddle Corkscrew, the mule. Minouli watched while the two mounted; sat sidewise on the packsaddle.
"Uhn. Uhn. Minouli, too." He said, holding out his good hand for help up.
"You stay here. Anna will be back."
"Anna. Anna!" Minouli stumbled along, half-dragged, grasping the rope coiled over the crosstree.
"Let go, Minoulaki. I'm coming back tonight. Let go!"
Ignoring both Anna and his uncle, Minouli stumbled after them. Neither of the riders allowed themselves to look back at the broken, jerking pursuit. Finally, when they passed through town onto the track to Petaluthes village, Minouli's foot gave way. He fell heavily, with a grunt that broke both riders' resolve. Pandelis reined in the mule; looked his nephew over as he caught up with them.
"He's all right. Just a little dirt on the face."
"Let him come, Uncle. If not, we'll have to take him back."
Pandelis swore, steadying the mule while Minouli struggled astride, behind Anna.
Near midmorning, they rode into Petaluthes' quiet square.
Anna sat Minouli under the square's eucalyptus tree, at one of the cafenion's outside tables, and paid the proprietor to bring him a lemonade.
"Wait here for Anna, Minouli. You can take care of Yah-yah's beautiful scarf. We'll come back before you finish your lemonade."
The lemonade arrived then, complete with straw.
"Sit. Enjoy!" His uncle called as they disappeared into the lane heading uphill to the convent.
There was something interesting to Minouli about the man who appeared in the square. Sipping his soda, he watched the newcomer make his way toward the cafenion. The man moved slowly, tapping things around him with the stick he carried. Minouli liked the man's red waistcoat and was pleased to see him tap the flagstones closer and closer to his chair. Minouli watched, fascinated as the man approached and tapped the leg of his chair.
"Good, there it is," the man muttered.
When the man was very close, he turned without warning and lowered himself into the chair. He wasn't a small man.
"Minouli's here," said Minouli.
"Holy Virgin!" Startled, the man with the stick tried to jump up. The result sent both him and Minouli over sideways in the chair. When the two untangled, Minouli rose, clutching an empty bottle. A small puddle fizzed on the flagstones.
Minouli held up his bottle.
"Where's Minouli's soda?"
"Idiot!" the man with the stick shouted at thin air. "I sit here every day. What's the matter with you? You think it's funny? I came to the village to get away from fools like you."
The shopkeeper had seen, through the window. He hustled out to restore order; righted the tumbled chair, then assisted his customer to it.
"Never mind, it's just some fellow from down at the town." Then, aside, "I don't think he's all there."
"You should have spoken, dumbbell!" The man called out, "Never seen a blind man before?"
The shopkeeper led Minouli to a far table.
"Here, sit. Give me the bottle, it's empty."
But when the blind man ordered coffee, he said, "And please replace my unfortunate chairmate's drink, too."
When Anna and Pandelis returned, Minouli was alone. Hoping to raise his niece's spirits, Pandelis bought her a sweet -- her favorite: loukoumia, made with rosewater and pistachios, which she shared going home.
Yah-yah was annoyed when she saw Minouli ride up with the other two.
"I've been looking for that one all day! He could have drowned or fallen off a cliff."
Pandelis waited until the two dismounted.
"Have to put Corkscrew away," he told Anna over the old lady's head. "And I'm the one who will tell how things went."
At the dinner table, he did.
"Of course, when I was through bargaining with them, they let her in like that." He tried to snap his greasy fingers.
Yah-yah frowned.
"Bargaining? What bargaining?"
"Well now, that's the thing," Pandelis said. "You know how nuns are always claiming they're married to Christ. ... They're not so stupid, you know. That way they can ask for a woman's dowry when she joins."
"Good," Yah-yah said. "Anna's got no dowry. So she stays here."
"What did I tell you? She doesn't need a dowry! Just three milk goats."
"Three milk goats!" Yah-yah's voice peaked.
Pandelis waved his spoon.
"It's nothing. I borrow the goats from my friend, Arsenis."
"You can borrow? And what will you do when he wants them back? Have you gone crazy, boy?"
Pandelis smiled and twisted his moustache. He didn't answer at first, but napkined his mouth daintily.
"He'll never ask for them. I said I bargained -- 'Three goats is too much,' I said. 'For fairness, you give me three cheeses in winter and three after Lent. She's like a daughter to me.' I said, 'Who will feed me when I'm too old?' 'All right,' says the head sister!"
Pandelis slapped the table to signal a deal closed.
"There! I give Arsenis two cheeses in winter and two after Lent. He'll never ask for his goats. Why milk and make cheese if you can get someone else to do it? Understand? Anna gets in the convent, and we keep the extra cheese!"
Minouli grew increasingly restless over the next two days. Uncle Pandelis had taken a trunk to her the night before and then left to spend the night in the country with friend, Arsenis. Now, Anna had latched the door to her room from where came sounds of drawers sliding. Minouli had banged the door and called to her, until Yah-yah shouted at him and finally had given him a plate of fish bones to feed the cats. He balanced the plate of bones on a window ledge in the alley. Soon, a dozen cats were yowling and brushing against one another. Maddened with the smell, the cats took turns springing up the plastered wall. Minouli laughed at each failure.
"Idiot! Stupid!"
Then, before he knew it, a lithe Egyptian cat ran up his leg. It sprang, twisting in midair. One claw hooked the plate and pulled it down with a crash. For Minouli, pieces of Yah-yah's plate skittering around the alley was too much. He snatched up a large shard and smashed it on the paving.
"Bad, Anna. Bad. Bad. Anna!"
The next day, an hour after light, Minouli was bringing up the rear on a dawdling brown donkey borrowed from Uncle Stephanos. Ahead, ambled three goats, milk-swollen teats covered with weaning bags. Their bells clanked dully.
"Hey, Minouli!" Pandelis shouted from ahead. "Come on! The goats are slow enough. My God, it'll take all day."
Minouli pressed the burro. But then, once again, he became aware of his cousin's head cover.
"Take this," he'd heard Yah-yah tell Anna as they left. "It's silk. A boy once gave it to me. He said it matched my cobalt eyes. Oh, my girl!"
Then Yah-yah and Anna cried. To Minouli, Anna's scarf was beautiful.
As before, shadows were short in Petaluthes plateia.
"I guess we've got time for a drink," Pandelis said as they tied the animals beside the cafenion.
"What a sentimental man you are, Uncle," Anna said. "No. Let's get this over."
Pandelis turned to her.
"Why spoil it from the first, my girl? We'll have a drink together and that's that."
Minouli remembered the cafenion. He limped ahead of them, and stood beside the table where he'd encountered the stick-man.
"Anna here. Anna here!" He pulled a chair out for her. Anna sat, puzzled by her cousin's unprecedented gallantry.
The shopkeeper brought them mauvro in tumblers. Minouli wasn't given wine often. He took the glass, distracted by the novelty.
"Life! Bottoms up." Pandelis drained his glass and thumped it down on the table with gusto. "Well, Anna, kiss your cousin."
"No, no, no! More wine. Anna no go." Minouli banged his glass.
Anna took it; embraced him and kissed his stubbly cheeks.
"You helped well with the goats, my cabbage head. Pandelis and I will walk them to the convent now. You must watch the animals here."
"Scarf," Minouli said, reaching for the blue silk she'd wrapped around her head and neck.
"Not this time, Minoulaki."
They had nearly reached the goats when Minouli overtook them.
"Minouli, too!" He announced, heading for the brown donkey.
Pandelis scowled.
"Back to the table, my boy! Sit here till I get back. Understand?"
"Minouli ... uh, uh, I come!" Minouli pulled at the donkey's lead. The animal yanked loose and ran off braying.
"Quick, the donkey!" Pandelis called to Anna.
Without thinking, he grabbed the elbow of his nephew's bad arm. This Minouli greatly disliked and reacted by trying to bite his uncle's hand. Anna ran to them.
"Enough, you fools! My last day? My last hour?"
"Stephanos' donkey!" Pandelis yelled.
Clutching blindly, Minouli caught the end of Anna's scarf; which spun her like a top; left her sitting on flagstones.
"Here then, get off your bum and seat him!" Pandelis shoved Minouli at her and sped off after his brother's donkey. Anna regained her wits in time to see Minouli still clutching her scarf. He covered the breadth of the square quickly, reached the street catty-cornered to the cafenion, and dodged in.
"Anna's coming. Anna's coming."
Down the street, kebabs sputtered on an outside grill. Dozing at one of the brasserie tables sat the man with the tapping stick. Minouli's face lit up. Behind, he heard Anna call. In front, the dozing man stirred. Minouli wanted to wake him, but dared not. Anna's voice -- closer now. Panicked, Minouli dropped Anna's scarf across the hands of the napping man; then bussed him on the lips. The snore sputtered to a halt. The man stirred, smiled, stifled a yawn, as Minouli dodged into a side street and froze. Coming from the brasserie, Minouli could hear Anna's voice. She was talking about her scarf; protesting loudly, but with pleasure.
"I kissed no one. What are you saying, sir?"
Minouli backed up a few steps more and stopped. Now the voice of the stick-man called out for someone to bring sweets. Minouli heard him say "Loukoumia, with rosewater and pistachios ..."