Santorini Paradiso Ch. 07

Elena's face was pale and her hands were shaking. Again the questions when and why came to mind. That pessimistic voice in her head spoke up, saying, 'boy, that shoe fell pretty fast!' Tears stung her eyes. They were tears of betrayal, embarrassed humiliation and confusion. What would prompt Adonis and Petros to run a background check on her? Did they think she was a liar, a scam artist, or some kind of gold digger? Moving in here was their idea - not hers! If they wanted to know anything, anything at all about her, she would gladly have answered their questions.

It flashed through her mind to run back to Pam and her friends and leave while she had the chance. That thought caused a searing pain that shot through Elena's heart like a knife. She couldn't just go - not like that. There must be a reason for all of this. She'd wait for an explanation. That was the adult thing to do, she reasoned. She put the pages back into the folder, but then decided to not put it back into the drawer. Leaving it on top of the desk, she was determined to confront the boys when they got home that night.

Getting up from the oversized chair, Elena felt very stiff and sore. She looked at the ornate clock on the desk - she still had about half an hour or so before it would be polite to call Pam. Making her way back up to her room, she plugged her phone into the charger and walked over to the massive windows, looking out at the sea below. It was another glorious day outside - but for the first time since she'd arrived in Greece, the natural beauty of her surroundings didn't lift her spirits. Turning to look at her big bed, she realized it had been made up - that Maria had somehow already been up here to tidy up. Her words 'work in your little art house' came to mind. 'Art therapy', as Sibyl used to call it, was precisely what she needed.

Elena snatched up her phone and charger and made her way back downstairs, stepped through the garden, and paused for a moment at the door of the studio. As she reached down to touch the doorknob, she thought back to her sexual interludes with Adonis and Petros in this beautiful cottage. Turmoil swirled within her. She needed to exorcise it - leave it on the pages of a sketchpad or the smooth surface of a canvas. Pushing open the door, the room was just as beautiful as she'd last left it. She sought and found an electrical outlet by a small table next to a door that she hadn't seen before. After plugging the phone in, she pushed on the door and found a luxurious bathroom made of Carrara marble, glass and chrome. That's handy, she thought to herself.

Elena walked over to the large swiveling doors and opened them all, allowing the fresh sea air into the lofted space. Something about this cottage was restoring her equilibrium already.

She set up one of the large sketch pads that Petros had brought her, pulled a piece of brand new vine charcoal from the box, broke it, and began to draw. Her muscle memory kicked in, her right brain switched on and her anxiety vanished as she got lost in the page.

Her phone alarm suddenly went off. 'Oh my god!' Elena thought - that could not be forty-five minutes already? It felt like five, tops. She walked over to where her phone was plugged in and turned off the alarm, double-checking the time. Yes, forty-five minutes had passed seemingly instantly, as if she'd stepped through a time machine. Her hands were covered in black charcoal dust. Ducking into the bathroom, Elena washed her hands vigorously in the marble sink, careful to not smudge the perfect surfaces. She shook the water off of her hands and walked back into the studio to wipe them dry on a clean paint rag, rather than risk soiling the opulent towels.

As she glanced up at the sketchpad, her breath caught. Elena meant to be doing an abstract; to be drawing nothing from reality, only shapes and shadows to get used to working again and to loosen up her drawing hand. But actually she'd drawn a tableau of three torsos - two men and one woman - entwined in the act of making love. She frowned at the dramatic contours, shadows and lights that she'd captured. It was... arresting. But all the more because she didn't consciously try to draw this - it emerged entirely from her subconscious. That never happened before. She'd captured the beautiful characteristics of the brothers' bodies - the long leanness of Petros and the chiseled musculature of Adonis. She also captured her own physical idiosyncrasies: her large areolas, the shape of her navel, and the mole she had on her right pelvic bone. Bizarre.

Suddenly remembering that she was supposed to call Pam; the very reason she'd set the alarm to begin with, she grabbed her phone and hit the speed dial.

Pam picked up after the fifth ring. "uhhh - Hello?" Elena could tell she had awakened her.

"Hi! It's me. So sorry, did I wake you up?" She could hear the sound of Pam yawning loudly near the phone.

"Ahhh - yeah, but it's okay. What time is it?" Elena told her. "Really?! It still feels so early to me. FUCK ME, I'm hung over..."

"How late did you guys stay out last night?" Elena was picking at some charcoal dust that had gotten under her fingernails.

"Ummm... until around 3:30 I think. I don't really remember. We went back to that club in Oia from the other night. Costi got so wasted that he took his shirt off and was doing this traditional Greek dance. I don't think he ever found it..." Pam got distracted and was talking in the background to her husband. Elena could hear her wake him up abruptly, saying: 'Hey! Costi, did you ever find your shirt last night? What happened with that? That was a nice shirt, I bought it when we went to New York...' She heard the sounds of Costas's voice in the background, but couldn't make out what he was saying. Pam said in a petulant voice that he should go back to the club to ask about it. Elena could hear him laughing in response.

"Pam!" Elena said, trying to bring her back to their conversation.

"I'm here - so when do you want to meet? I may not be up for eating, dude. But we can meet for coffee or go shopping or something."

The girls made a plan to meet in ninety minutes at the hotel when Elena went back to check out, and agreed they'd go for coffee and walk around the boutiques in Thira afterwards.

As Elena hung up, she started thinking again about the background check she'd found, and was suddenly impatient to hear from Adonis and Petros. Looking at the time, she tried to calculate whether they would have landed in Athens yet, but she wasn't sure. Knowing they were far away made her anxious, somehow. She was restless and starting to feel a bit moody. And now she needed to kill another hour and a half. Shit.

There wasn't really enough time to start painting, but she could spend this time preparing some canvasses. Or, she could do another drawing. Looking at the sketchpad, she decided that she didn't want to mess around with any more subconscious abstracts - that she should draw something real. In a flash, she thought about the sculpture garden - a virtually perfect source of models.

She reset an alarm on her phone for an hour hence, slipping it into the pocket of her tunic. Picking up the pad, the box of charcoal and gum erasers, a rag and a stool, Elena walked out of the cottage and turned left toward the sculpture garden.

She considered the array of subjects, taking them all in one by one. There were twelve in all. As she looked at each one, she suddenly realized that they were depictions of the Olympians - twelve of the primary gods of Greek lore. The sculptures themselves were quite beautiful, and extremely intricate, yet Elena could see they were made of Kalliston White marble - which is native to Greece. Though called "white", it was actually more ivory in color with fine gray striations. She ran her hands lovingly over the smooth, warm surfaces. The artist was highly skilled - this work was remarkable and put her in mind of Bernini or perhaps Donatello. It struck her as decidedly more Italo-Roman in style.

As she regarded them, she noted that they were arranged in a surprising configuration. Rather than a perfectly symmetrical pattern of six rows of two, four rows of three or three rows of four, the sculptures were arranged in a two, three, four, two, one configuration. The final single figure was set a bit apart from the rest on a raised pedestal that was approximately two feet from the ground. It was a female figure and was therefore poised a head and shoulders above the rest of the gods. There were no insignia, artist marks or nameplates on any of the installations - so Elena had to review them one by one to assign them their proper deity names.

The first two were easy to identify: they were Zeus and Poseidon. Zeus, to the left, was very large and muscular. He wore a crown and a loosely draped cloth that ran along his biceps and down one hip ending just above his left knee. His hair was nearly shoulder length and fell in curls behind his ears and down his neck. He had a full, curly beard. His right arm was held aloft, gripping a spear-like lightening bolt - but the gesture was not threatening. Rather, it was as if he was demonstrating his power. His other arm was cradling the head of a large eagle, perched on the ground next to his left leg. His face was ruggedly hewn with thickly pronounced eyebrows and a rather hawkish nose. The artist conveyed a sense of power beneath taut skin - with telltale musculature rippling beneath the smooth surface. The ringlets of his hair and beard were astoundingly fine, and the fabric undulated gently across his frame, indicating with great subtlety the body beneath. It was exquisite.

She turned to the right to look at what was clearly Poseidon. He was leaner than Zeus but his body showed a sinewy grace that evoked his domain, the sea. This figure was standing inside a cresting wave, which furled next to his right leg. Holding his customary trident, Poseidon here was clothed in a large, winding swath of seaweed. It had curling edges and somehow gave a "springy" appearance. The work really was masterful. His hair and beard were shorter than that of Zeus, and his crown was made of seashells. His impassive face was quite handsome, with high cheekbones and a slight curve to his full lips.

Moving forward to review the next set of three gods, Elena perceived they were Hera, Zeus's wife; Demeter, goddess of the earth and harvest; and Hades, god of the underworld. Each of them was depicted with great subtlety and attention to fine details. Hera's tunic seemed to be of extremely fine silk and her sandaled feet were delicately shaped, the vascular system quite obvious beneath her skin. Demeter had an extremely mature, womanly face and the stalks of wheat in her hand seemed like they might blow away in the next breeze. Hades was arresting for the darkness of his countenance. He held a spear similar to Poseidon, except that it had only two prongs, rather than three. He was wearing a full cloak that covered most of his right side, and it seemed wrought with filigree and gems. In the crook of his right arm he clasped a strange, elaborate helmet to his side.

Elena ran her fingers across the figures as she passed, loving the suggestion of suspended animation and the remarkable accuracy of their impressive anatomy. The next row of deities had to be Apollo, Ares, Hermes and Dionysus. The two goddesses in the rear were Athena and Artemis.

As Elena walked forward and regarded the final goddess on her pedestal, she knew she was staring into the enchantingly beautiful face of Aphrodite. There was that déjà vu thing again! She gazed at the lovely woman so finely depicted in marble that it appeared to have the tensile quality of wax. She half expected her to blink and turn to look back at her.

Elena reached out a gentle hand and slowly caressed her cool, smooth cheek. Goddess of beauty was right, she thought. There was a detachment to her beauty, but she was undeniably perfect. Her long tresses were caught up in a laurel leaf diadem, but half of her luxurious hair escaped and ran down her back and shoulders. One perfect breast was exposed, but the nipple of the other poked alluringly through the fine cloth of her robes. She stood within a giant clamshell, like in the Botticelli painting. In one hand she held forth an apple. The other clutched a long sprig of myrtle, and seemed to be holding her toga to her body. Around her delicate throat - which practically seemed to pulse - she wore a pendant with a large stone set in the center. Something prickled in the back of Elena's memory, but then it was gone again.

She sighed aloud, smiling a bit as she shook her head in awe. "No wonder you captured the hearts of gods and men alike. You are truly a vision." She said to the frozen beauty. A little breeze blew up from the sea, tossing and swirling hundreds of tiny flower petals across the garden. They danced past Elena and Aphrodite, making little pirouettes in the air before floating down to rest at the foot of the pedestal and around Elena's feet. It was magical to behold. Elena laughed, holding out a hand to catch the falling blooms.

She caught her own reflection in the windows of the villa near to where she was standing. This particular light was oddly flattering - and Elena felt almost beautiful herself. She stilled, looking at herself in the darkened glass. In the back of her mind, she was vaguely aware that these must be the windows in the boys' office. She'd been standing on the inside of that glass looking out just about an hour ago. Turning her gaze back to Aphrodite, she smiled back at the goddess of love and whispered: "But you are still the fairest of them all..."

She walked over to the Oleander at the edge of the path, and snapped off a few branches. Elena returned and placed them at her feet. Looking up, she uttered softly: "I'm new at all of this love business, and could really use your help. If it's not too much trouble, maybe you could look after me a little? But most of all, please, please, keep our beautiful boys safe, okay?"

Elena jumped, startled by a sudden "cooing" sound next to her. She turned to the left and saw a white dove perched in an olive tree by the garden wall. It was sitting at the outer most edge of the lowest branch, and was watching her with bright, alert curiosity.

"Hi there." Elena said softly. "How are you, sweet thing?" Walking slowly toward the bird, she gently reached toward it. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of her recurring déjà vu, but she was barely surprised when the graceful white dove fluttered down to perch on her outstretched hand. Her pinkish-peach colored talons felt tender as they clung to the knuckle of Elena's index finger.

Elena made tiny little kissing noises to the bird. The delicate creature cocked its head to the side, regarding her with its right eye. It cooed again as it sat there, as if trained to do so.

"I'll take this as a good sign." Elena said softly. The dove cooed a final time and spread its wings. Elena held it aloft to help as it took flight. It flew up, looped around doing a lazy circle past Elena, landing lightly on Aphrodite's shoulder. She watched all of this, her lips parted with excitement.

In her peripheral vision, she thought she saw movement by the office windows. Glancing quickly over, she saw Dimitri in the window, watching her. He seemed momentarily at a loss to be discovered there - but immediately recovered his calm poker face. Elena grinned and waved at him. He held up his hand in polite response but then briskly turned on his heel and disappeared back into the villa. She wondered how long he'd been watching.

Smiling at her feathered friend and the goddess, Elena knew that she had made her decision regarding what subject to draw. She walked once more among the gods to retrieve her supplies. The earlier heaviness she'd felt in her heart was somehow eased, and she felt suffused with a rather luscious feeling of inspiration.

Arranging herself in front of the love goddess, she began to work.

Scarcely a moment later, her phone alarm went off yet again. The dove, disturbed by the electronic ring tone, flew off and out of sight. "What?!" Elena exclaimed. Her disappointment was keen. She pulled the phone from her pocket and looked at it disbelievingly. But it was true, and hour had passed in an instant.

Looking at her drawing, Elena frowned, critical of her own technique. She'd drawn the goddess from the waist up, capturing her graceful curves and delicate features.

Amazingly, though her intention was to draw the stone image with great faithfulness, her Aphrodite seemed to be breathing with life. Elena had captured an almost vivacious gleam in her large, perfectly set eyes. A tiny smirk pulled at the corners of the goddess's generous, well-formed lips. This deity seemed a flesh and bone embodiment of the sculpture. Even the dove seemed to be conveying a lively personality, posed there on her shoulder. Oddly, this womanly version of the Olympian seemed familiar to her in some way. Had Elena channeled aspects of someone she knew or met into this image? Probably - that is sometimes part of the artistic process - things emerge that you didn't expect. Looking up at Aphrodite, she offered a gracious thank you to her model.

All in all, Elena was pleased with it, and thought that Adonis and Petros might like to see the first product of their patronage. But she'd better get moving. Collecting her things and dashing back into the studio, Elena scrubbed her hands clean and hurried back into the villa to find Dimitri.

He was in the kitchen, seated at the marble bistro table, sharing a coffee with Maria. Elena excused herself as she entered, but they shushed her and Dimitri stood, asking proactively if she wished to go to her hotel.

"Yes, thanks! I just want to run upstairs and put on something decent. Give me ten minutes. Is that okay?"

Dimitri assured her that he was ready at her pleasure. Offering a shy "efkharisto" she ran up the stairs, taking two at a time.

**

Just over an hour later, Elena was sitting with Pam in an outdoor café having sweet iced coffee and a large bottle of water. Still nursing her hangover, Pam sat in the shade of the table's umbrella, wearing gigantic sunglasses, sipping her iced coffee through a straw. Given her friend's sluggish state, they were enjoying a blissful few moments of silence as they people watched.

Checking out of the hotel was very smooth, thanks to Dimitri, who not only drove her there but arranged things with the hotel desk clerk and waited patiently as she packed, bringing everything to the trunk of the big Mercedes. There was one awkward moment when Elena tried to pay her bill, only to find that it had been "pre-arranged". She began to argue with Dimitri, but he had an unreadable face and simply said that 'these were his instructions'. She was just glad that Pam was not there to witness it. As it was, she had to endure the lingering, overtly curious stare from the manager. She could only imagine what he thought.

Elena glanced over at her friend under her eyelashes, feeling a bit of sympathy for her state of discomfort. She had to admire her; Pam was the kind of leggy, natural beauty that could throw on a men's tank top and jeans, a touch of red lipstick, and big "Jackie O" glasses and somehow look glamorous. Elena mused that if she tried that she'd look like an unmade bed.

Glancing down at the lovely cabbage rose print of her peasant skirt, she smoothed the cotton gauze with her hands and smiled to herself at the way her boys knew how to buy her things that flattered her curves and made her look feminine. She wondered where they were, and acknowledged wistfully to herself how much she wanted to hear from them... to hear something... anything.

On cue, her phone buzzed, indicating a text message. Pulling it from her bag she eagerly read the message, only to blush furiously.