White Moon Black Sea Read Online Free PDF Page B

me in Greek.
    “I turned down another street and farther on I saw three Island men coming toward me. They were tall, big, handsome with their dark moustaches and broad smiles. They were shepherds down from the mountains in their village dress, with black scarves and little fringes tied around their heads. Their trousers were tucked into dustybut shiny high black boots. They wore black shirts and black sashes around their waists, and one had a white wool cape thrown over his shoulders. The other two had sheepskin jackets, I think, over their shirts. I was amazed by the way the three of them were striding toward me in the tiny street with its white houses and small wooden doors.
    “I thought, ‘Oh this is Crete, proud and strong, rugged and male.’ I half-hoped as they walked toward me that they would carry me off to some remote village in the mountains overlooking the sea. They were surely the kind of men women dream of being captured by. To me they looked more like Cretan mountain pirates than shepherds, and they made me think of the famous Cretan feuds that wiped out families, the murders of passion, the vendettas passed down from generation to generation that I had heard stories about. I had my little moment of fantasy that you would rescue me from them, fall in love with me, and I would be enslaved to a romantic hero.”
    Rashid put his arm around Humayun as the car swerved off the gravel road and onto the tarmac of the main road to Xania. She turned in the seat, the better to face him, and his fingers grazed her cheek with such tenderness that she placed her hand over his, holding it there for a second, not wanting to lose the moment. She was suddenly embarrassed by the intimacy and removed Rashid’s hand from her cheek and held it in her lap as she continued.
    “I had to pass by the men, but they blocked my way. The one in the center ate me up with what seemed to be liquid black eyes. He gabbled in Greek to me, but I said nothing, afraid to let them know I spoke only Turkish. I remember giving them my most charming smile and making gestures that told them I couldn’t understand. But it made no difference. He went on talking to me and the three of them kept laughing as I tried to get around them. The man in the center picked me up with two hands around my waist. He lifted me high off the ground, and before I could even protest or wave my arms around, pretending to be a lady in distress, he twirled me over his shoulder and put me down behind him. The three menlaughing heartily while they moved away, never looked back at me. I stood there alone in the dusty street watching them swagger away from me.
    “Now that I am reminded of that little scene, I find it hard to remember whether I was more disappointed or amazed that they didn’t kidnap me. I remember the morning walk, and the men, and the incense that lingered with me after I looked into a small white church. Visions of Byzantium, virile, rugged men, violent passions, sex, the sea, and the landscape, whirled around in my head, and I fell under the spell of Crete, the first place I had ever really been outside on my own. There was no freedom from the bordello in Istanbul where your father kept me.”
    “And that’s when I found you.”
    “Yes, I was still wandering through the streets trying to find my way back to the old port, and I bumped right into you. You appeared as if by magic. I knew at once it was you, and I was disarmed by your handsomeness, the sensuality on you like perfume. I was flushed and angry with myself for being lost and having to ask you to take me home.”
    Rashid laughed and kissed her on the lips, not once but twice, and said, “By my life, I remember that. We stood there looking at each other. I thought to myself, she is mine. I tried to hold back my joy but remember feeling a little twisted smile break through. I knew at once who you were because there was not a single woman in Xania as startling beautiful as you. I wanted to chastise