‘Smart move, Dad, come to me in a vision on Patmos. Makes it seem like the real thing, huh?’
Andreas paused, as if waiting for an answer.
‘I need a sign, or else I’m going to chalk it up to the tzatziki. Make me believe in family, make me believe I won’t mess things up as badly as you did. Go ahead, I dare you!’
Andreas stared into his own eyes. ‘See, I knew you’d let me down. Again.’
He turned off the light and crawled into bed. He was back to staring at the ceiling when he heard a faint beep.
There was a text message on his phone:
I’M AWAKE, AND THOUGHT YOU MIGHT BE, TOO. JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW
JUNIOR AND I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH. L.Andreas tried not to cry. He tried very hard not to cry.
5
There was a knock on Andreas’ door at seven in the morning. ‘Sir, a taxi driver just delivered an envelope for you. He said he’d wait for you.’
Andreas had been up for an hour. But he wasn’t expecting a taxi.
‘Slide it under the door.’
It was a plain white envelope marked ‘Room 228.’ Inside was scribbled, Tell the driver Lampi. See you soon. He recognized the handwriting.
Ten minutes later Kouros and Andreas were in the taxi on their way to a beach called Lampi. It was a beautiful morning, almost no one else on the road. The taxi headed north through the old port, past harborside tavernas peppered with locals sharing coffee and gossip, and on through the new port edged by shops and places catering to the daily needs of island residents: car repair, hardware, furniture, clothing, electronics, cell phones, and pizza. As the road climbed out of Skala, eucalyptus replaced shops and the view turned to open land, marked by ancient walls, tiny villages, green and brown fields, and random homes and churches scattered across the hills among pines, cypresses, tamarisks, and pomegranates.