Men of the Cave (Symbol of Hope Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

months.”
    “Hercules, that’s exciting. What’s your part?”
    “I am Hercules.”
    “No, you’re not! You have the lead!”
    Did she doubt my acting abilities? I would have to show her.
    “Yes, I am a good actor.”
    She giggled.
    “What do you find amusing?”
    “Definitely a bit of James Bond in you,” she answered.
    “Agh,” I scoffed.
    Once in Deia I parallel parked in front of an alleyway.
    “Where are we? What are we doing?” Kasey sounded alarmed.
    “Relax, I am treating you to lunch and picking up some for my brothers as well. Did I not mention this?”
    “Lunch! I thought you always asked permission?” She got out of the car and put her hands on her hips.
    I smiled, “So one slipped.”
    “Where are we? These look like residential homes?” She asked gazing around. The street was deserted. I reached out and grabbed her hand.
    “Follow me it is down the alley,” I pulled her arm heading toward the shadowy alley. She halted and took her hand out of mine.
    “Where are we going, Dion? This part of town looks really old, and there aren’t any restaurants here.” She questioned with an alarmed tone to her voice. Her body turned tense and tight.
    “Forgive me Kasey. Please do not be troubled. I have someone I think you would like to meet. She lives in the last door down the alley.” I extended my hand out to her, “Please.”
    Her eyes narrowed the way they so often do. She glanced down the alley and then looked into my eyes. She searched for something that would let her know to trust me. Whatever it was she saw, she loosened her body, and walked past my hand into the alley.
     

4. Kasey and the Villagers
     
    I could feel my heart thump against my skin. I would never have done this back home, but the American in Spain said try something out of your comfort zone. I was scared, nervous, but every time I looked at him my intuition screamed trust him.
    There wasn’t a soul in the alley. On either side of the barely lit passage, were five green doors. One was by itself at the end of the alleyway. We kept going deeper and deeper into the shadows until we stopped at the last green door.
    “Dion, what are we doing here?” I whispered even though no one was around.
    “Relax.” He knocked on the door. Shuffling and rustling noises came from the other side. Then the door opened.
    A tiny old woman with white hair done up in a bun opened the door. “ Si ,” she said with a weak and creaky voice. I relaxed.
    Dion answered her in a language other than Spanish. I imagined it was Catalan, the original language of the land. Dion hugged and kissed her affectionately. With a half bow, he introduced me. I gathered that much from the conversation. She leaned forward, expecting me to greet her. I did as Dion had.
    The apartment was like a medieval furnished chamber. It was dreary inside. Only two dimmed orange lamps. One of the lamps sat in the sitting area, while the other in the dining. Had I time warped into the dark ages? How could such a murky place exist in the beautiful paradise of Deia?
    Dion and the elderly woman kept talking in the odd dialect. Then she left the room through a paint chipped red door.
    “Dion, who is she?” I continued to whisper, “Are you speaking Catalan?”
     He spoke in a normal tone. “No, Greek. Her name is Helena. She is a dear old friend. She is blind.”
    “She gets around quick and without any help.” I was impressed.
    “This place has not changed in a hundred years. I did not bring you here simply because she is a great cook. Helena has been in Deia for as long as I can remember.”
    “Really?”
    “She is like a grandmother to me. That is why I brought you to meet her. She is an impressive story teller.” He gestured for me to sit on the medieval couch.
    Instead of cushions, her sofas had brick colored leather that wrapped around dark squared pieces of wood.  It attached at the seams with large bronze metal buttons. They were flat and looked hard. The leather