Retribution

During the August nights, the high temperatures of the summer made it unbearable to be inside. Father Petrou and I would sit outside, hoping for a breeze to blow.

We would sit there in the quietness of the night. Like I had my nightmares haunting me, I believe the priest had his. With my head leaned back, I was resting it on the wall. I looked up at the sky and stared out to space, beyond the stars. The sudden breeze of wind cooled my face. Closing my eyes, memories of my wife flooded my mind. Reopening them, I felt a tear run down my cheek.

"We'll go to the hospital tomorrow." The priest announced, without warning, he just spat it out. He looked at me to see my response.

"I can't go like this. I'm not ready to see anyone." I panicked.

"Leave that to me," he said with a smirk on his face.

I stood up suddenly feeling pins and needles on my legs. I tried to balance myself not to fall. I wobbled from left to right. Father Petrou came to my aid. His hands open ready to catch me. I grabbed the handrail next to me and began to laugh loudly.

"What? What's so funny?" he said.

"I feel like a baby taking his first steps," I said. We both burst out in laughter.

Next day Father Petrou came to my room, he dropped a pile of clothes on my bed. "I brought you some clothes. Get dressed. The taxi will be here in an hour," he said

"I have clothes."

"You don't want anyone to recognise you, right. It's your disguise." He chuckled as he walked out of the room.

I had nerves of steel, all the way to Chase Farm Hospital. Even the taxi driver noticed. My leg was trembling continuously. "Everything ok Father? The driver said, his eyes glued on me through the rear-view mirror.

"Everything is ok my son," Father Petrou replied. Forcing his hand on my leg, he was trying to stop it from quivering.

"I look ridiculous, dressed up in a Clerical Cassock," I whispered. I tugged at the cassock around my neck with my finger. "This is too tight," I moaned.

"You're going to be ok, Tony. Relax, worst scenario, someone will want to confess to you," Father Petrou chuckled.

"Great, that's all I need," I worriedly said.

It was midday when we got to the hospital. The long walk along the corridor to Julie's ward was exhausting for me. When we got there, I collapsed on one of the chairs in the hallway. I was drained. Father Petrou spoke to the head nurse at the entrance of the ward. He was making religious hand gestures as he chatted with her. A few moments later he came over and dropped on the chair next to me.

I pointed at the sign showing the visiting times. "Look at the sign? We have to wait for an hour until visiting time," I said.

"Don't worry. I spoke to the nurse. Whenever we are ready we can go and see Julie," he replied. Getting up, he calmly strolled into the ward. I tottered behind him, smiling at the nurse as I passed her desk.

Once I was by his side. I said, "For sure you are going to...," I didn't finish my sentence. I froze on the spot.

Julie was at the far end of the ward. An oxygen mask covered her mouth and nose. She had on a green hospital garment, laying there on the bed, she was motionless. I slowly walked closer to her. The beeping sound from the heart rate monitor was getting louder. I stared at the device. It showed her heart rate in beats per minute. That was the only device that indicated she was still alive. Looking behind me, Father Petrou stood a couple of metres behind me. His eyes fixed on the electrical monitors connected to Julie. Returning my attention to Julie, I watched her, hoping to see some movement. She was in a deep sleep. Kissing her on her forehead, I felt a teardrop run down my cheek. It splashed on her shoulder. The tear made the green garment darker where the liquid dropped.

"I love you, Angel. I will not rest until I find those animals that did this to you," I whispered. I stood there holding her hand, just watching her. For how long, I do not know.

Father Petrou brought me out of my trance. "Tony we must go?" he said.

As we both came out of the ward, we walked down the corridor in silence, heading toward the exit. Coming towards us was someone I wasn't ready to see. It was Maria, my mother-in-law.

"The lady that is coming towards us, it's my mother-in-law," I whispered to Father Petrou. I struggled to open my stride, to move faster. I was hoping she would not see me When we rushed passed her.

Outside the hospital, I grasped the wall with both hands. With great difficulty, I kept my balance from falling. Once I reassured Father Petrou I was ok he went to call a taxi.

"Tony? Tony is that you?" I recognised her voice. It was my mother-in-law. "Tony why are you dressed up like a priest?" she asked.

Ten minutes later all three of us were seated outside the hospital cafe. Father Petrou sat on my left and Maria on my right. I introduced Father Petrou to Maria. I explained to her that he was the head priest of St. Barnabas Church. A moment later, I regretted saying the church name. I didn't want her to know where I was staying yet.

For one hour I explained to my mother-in-law in detail what happened the night Julie and I went to Central London. It was something which I hadn't told Father Petrou about. When I stopped talking, Maria gazed at me. I wasn't ready for what she said to me next.

"Why didn't you run with her? You could have protected her!" her voice was bitter. "Why didn't you go to the police to report them? There are CCTV cameras all over London! The police could have caught them!" she screamed.

"I'm sorry Maria, I'm sorry I fucked up. I'm sorry I didn't do more to protect Julie!" My raised voice got the attention of the people seated at the other tables around us. "What I promise, I will find these people, and they will pay for what they've done." I took a deep breath. "I will find them! I banged my hand on the table.

I got up and staggered to the taxi station. I couldn't sit there and look at my mother-in-law. I was ashamed, that I couldn't protect Julie.

"That won't bring my baby out of her coma! Do you hear me, Tony? My baby is in a coma!" she yelled.

The words she said were disturbing. I tried to block the sound by putting my hands over my ears, but I could still hear her.

Father Petrou and I sat in silence in the taxi on the return journey to Wood Green. When the car stopped outside the church, a couple was waiting for him outside the church. He gestured them towards the church, and they went inside. I went to my room.

I was sitting at the end of the bed, my mind miles away when Father Petrou came to see me. "I'm sorry Father for not telling you about that night, for not speaking to you."

"She is worried about her daughter. That is why she was angry with you." He paused for a moment. "She is right, you should..." He paused again. "If you spoke to me about the incident earlier, we could have gone to the police together."

"I can't go to the police. With the history, I have," I said

He came and sat next to me on the bed, putting his hand on my shoulder. He said, "It's time you confess your sins, my Son. Whatever you say, my lips are sealed." He made a zipping gesture across his lips, with his hand.

I nodded my head.

Chapter 3

The smell of incense filled the air. I inhaled the scent, as I stopped at each Icon, made a cross gesture on my body before kissing the painting of each saint. Once finished, I made the same gesture on the large brass cross with the figurine of Jesus. I stood there, staring at Christ.

"Jesus chose to die because he loved humanity and wanted to save us. To give us the chance to go to Heaven," Father Petrou said. He appeared next to me. "You weren't in your room or the garden. I figured you'd be here."

"I'm sorry Father, I couldn't sleep. I guess you don't get many Christians coming to church at this time of the morning."

"Let's sit down," he said. He gestured towards the bench, behind us.

We sat there for a while, savouring the calmness. Father Petrou leaned forward. He rested his elbows on his knees. With his hands together, he folded his fingers into each other, gazing ahead, at the altar in front of us.

After a few moments of silence, Father Petrou spoke, "It was thirty-three years ago. I was seventeen years old at the time. I had just finished secondary school. That is abroad, in Limassol, Cyprus. I wasn't a very bright student, I just about graduated. I got myself a job in a hotel. I was lucky. It was a five-star hotel, one of the big once on the outskirts of the city. I worked there for a year. I loved every minute. On my days off, I would work overtime. Not for the money in particular. It was because someone special to me was always at the hotel.

He paused for a moment. He had a broad smile on his face. I could see he was miles away.

"I got close to a young lady. In time we fell in love, we made plans for our future. There was one catch though. She was the hotel owner's daughter. Her family wouldn't have it, their daughter marrying a waiter. When they found out, I got dismissed on the spot. On top of that, if I tried to contact Gina, there would be more significant consequences. My parents could lose their jobs as well. Gina's father had much influence with other employers. I couldn't get employment anywhere. Her father had put out the word that I was no good. I had a relative, who was a priest, my father spoke to him. Before I knew what was happening, I was on my way to a monastery in Paphos."

I was speechless, lost for words. I didn't know what to say to Father Petrou. I wanted him to carry on, but I could see, he was in pain, talking of his past.

A few moments later he continued. "Five years went by. I remember the day like it was yesterday. I would have refused to perform the ceremony, but the surname caught me off guard. She went by her marital status. I had a Christening to perform. Gina was baptising her second child. She hadn't changed much. She was as beautiful as before, even more attractive. My heartache was back. Behind the church gown and long beard, she recognised me. The moment she saw me her eyes became moist. Next day I made an appointment to see the Archbishop of Paphos. I requested a transfer as far away from Cyprus as possible. Wood Green has been my home for the last twenty-seven years." He wiped his cheek with the sleeve of his garment.

"You didn't marry when you came to the UK? In our religion, Orthodox priests can get married," I said.

"In my case, it was difficult, even though I had had the opportunity many times to get married."

"What was holding you back?" I asked.

"I still love her, as I loved her back then," he smiled. "Probably till the day I die." We both sat there in silence, Father Petrou in deep thought.

I wanted to speak to confess, tell him my story, but I didn't. We had enough drama for one day. I will confess to him on another day.

It took days, weeks to get my strength back, by the Mid-September, I began to jog. I started with two kilometres and gradually increased my distance. By the end of October, I was running ten kilometres every night. The streets surrounding Wood Green shopping centre were dead at two in the morning. The only sound you could hear was my trainers hitting the pavement. I felt the autumn breeze on my face, as I glided along the streets.

When I finished my jog and got back to my sanctuary, I would work on my strength by doing pull-ups, push-ups and free weights, for at least an hour. The cycle I implemented a few years back came back to me instantly. Steadily I was building up my strength.

With Father Petrou, I became very close. Every evening we would cook something to eat together. When we finish our meal, we would enjoy a game of chess. A strategy board game he is trying to teach me. I think he enjoys calling out his favourite word in the game. "Checkmate."

We rolled into November. The weather was changing. Most of the leaves from the trees had fallen by then. In the summer I worked on my stamina. With winter coming I focused on my strength.

It was a Friday evening, Father Petrou and I finished our meal. I was cleaning up the table when he said, "When you finish, set up the chess board, I'll be back in five minutes." He was gone before I could protest.

"That's right, always run away from washing the dishes!" I called out, hoping he would hear me, I said it in a friendly tone. Like I said we had become terrific friends.

I was sitting at the table, with the chess board in front of me. The horse figurine in my hand, I stared at the chess-board, trying to figure out on which square to place it. All this was still all new to me.

The door slammed open. Father Petrou said, "The first row, second square from the outside on your left and right. That is where you put the horse."

"I will never get used to putting the pieces on the board," I said. When I looked away from the chessboard, towards Father Petrou, he stood there with two shopping bags. A Sports Direct bag and a T.K. Maxx bag. Both full to the top, you could see some of the price tags sticking out. "Oh no, you did not do that. You have already done enough for me!" I shouted.

"It's nothing. Let's say I am helping a friend. Also, we can't have you running around Wood Green in shorts, like it's the middle of summer." He emptied both bags on the table. "Whatever you don't like or doesn't fit, we'll take it back and change it." I looked at each peace, getting emotional until my eyes watered up. "Don't you get sentimental with me," he said. He picked up a tracksuit bottom, stretching the elastic around the waist. "I think you might need a bigger size here?" he said. We both started laughing.

There were three continuous loud bangs on the door. We both stopped laughing and looked at each other. Father Petrou walked over to the door, opening it slowly. "Mrs...," he stuttered not being able to finish saying the name. I couldn't see who it was. He was blocking the entrance.

He stepped aside.

She stood there looking at me, then at the clothes, scattered on the table. "Hi, Tony," she said.

I was speechless for a moment. "Maria?" I said. She could barely hear my voice.

She stepped into the room, looked around, at the walls, fixing her vision on the wooden crucifix, then at my face, on the cut on my cheek. I could see the sadness in her eyes.

Father Petrou stepped outside. "I'll leave you two alone to talk," he said, closing the door behind him.

"I'm sorry," I said. Turning around, I began to put all the clothes into the bags.

She came closer and took my arm. I released the items. She pulled me around to face her. She ran her index and middle finger along my cut. Tears were running down her cheeks. "I'm sorry Tony. I shouldn't have been so harsh towards you. I know you did whatever you could to help Julie."

We sat and talked. Maria told me, how Julie was doing. She explained to me in detail, regarding Julie's situation. That her condition was stable and only time will show an improvement. My father-in-law was still furious with me. He never did like me from the first day he met me.

It was late when my mother-in-law left. I walked her to her car, opening the door for her. She looked up at me, and then put her palm on my cheek. "Julie and I talked a lot about the two of you. She told me everything about you. Your life, before you met her." I opened my mouth to speak. Maria stopped me by putting her index finger on my lips. "I don't care about your past. I know who you were when you were with my daughter. You love Julie, and she loves you. That is what counts."

I looked at her. I didn't know what to say.

"I want you to become the person you were before you met Julie. With what you know I want you to find them and make them pay," she said, her voice not asking me, but commanding me. She slipped an envelope in my hand then kissed me on my cheek. A moment later I watched the tail-lights of her Mercedes as she drove away.

I went and found Father Petrou inside the church. He was kneeling in front of the altar, in prayer. Calmly, not to disturb him, I sat on the bench. Putting my hands together I said a prayer for Julie. When we both finished, he came and sat next to me.

"Everything ok, Tony?" he asked, with concern in his voice.

"I grew up in Cyprus as well Father, in Paphos, not too far from Ayios Neophytos Monastery. I wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the draw in school. When I finished, I didn't even graduate. I didn't get a job. I was a delinquent, got myself in all kinds of trouble. Even my parents had enough. There was so much they could do for me."

"I was eighteen years old. I took on three guys on my own, in some sleazy bar. The reason, I am too embarrassed to say. I put all three of them in hospital. 'You're a danger to society Tony,' the judge said. It was three years in prison or two years in the army. The good thing I got to pick." I twisted my arm, looked at the tattoo on the inside of my forearm. It was a sparrow, hovering in mid-air.

"I saw the tattoo when I used to clean your wounds, does it have any meaning?" Father Petrou said, curiosity written all over his face.

"I thought the army was the easy way out. I thought wrong. I was forced to join the O.Y.K. It was the Greek version of the Navy Seals. We didn't have the missions the seals had, but we went through the same training, with minor missions. The first two months was basic army training. After that, it was twenty-two months of hell. There were forty of us when we started, after twelve months; there were only six of us left. The rest couldn't handle it. I tried to quit, but I would go to prison if I did. Our team of six, we had a bond. That is when we called ourselves, 'The Hovering Sparrows'. All six of us have the same tattoo on our forearm." I sat there flexing my muscle on my forearm. I watched the symbol of the hovering sparrow move.

"What did you all do after you finished the army?" Father Petrou's question brought me back to earth.

I thought for a moment before answering his question. "Three of the guys went abroad to study at university. Jimmy opened a diving school, and Terry went into business with his father."

"What about you Tony? Surely doors opened up for you as well."

I looked at him. "Once a bum, always a bum," I said. I looked at the altar, then at Christ on the bronze cross. "I went back to my old ways. This time I got mixed up with worst people. I did things that I am not proud of myself. My family, my friends, disowned me. Anyone in their right mind didn't want to have anything to do with me."

I turned to look at Father Petrou; he just sat there and gazed ahead.

I continued, "Then Julie came into my life. She moved to Cyprus from the UK for a year. She wanted to work and live abroad. Her parents owned a flat, on the same apartment block that I was renting. We bumped into each other a few times in our local supermarket. Cut a long story short. We started dating. Within six months, we started making plans, for a future together. That's all we wanted, to be together." I leaned forward, covering my face with my hands.

"Did you tell her, what you did for a living?"

I lifted my head, leaned back and took a deep breath. "I wanted out from the underworld. I wanted to change. To put the past behind me, but I was too involved. The gangland bosses wouldn't have it." I rubbed the back of my neck. Father Petrou was sitting in anticipation to hear what happened.

"I was with Julie, having a drink with some members of her family. Her cousins came down to Paphos from Troodos. They liked me. They were firing questions at me. What do I do? What plans I had for the future? I was ready to answer. Then I got interrupted. 'He works for me', he said." There was a pause.

"Who said that Tony?" Father Petrou said.

"It was my boss Manolis, a notorious crime syndicate. 'This is the pretty thing you want to give up everything for', Manolis said. Standing over me, he gestured toward Julie. Everyone tried to protest sitting at our table. I stopped them before Manolis turned his attention to them. I got up looked at Julie, then at Manolis. I told him again, what I had told him before, 'I want out'. Two of his henchmen appeared by his side. His prize-fighter stood behind him.