Blinding Night

Chapter 2

Chapter 2“There’s my girls!” Dad shouted over the lingering airport crowd. His arms were open wide and his smile was as contagious as ever. I dashed ahead of Mom and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“There’s my Sunny,” he said with a chuckle as he embraced me tightly. “It’s so good to hold you again.”

“It’s good to see you, Dad,” I murmured against his shoulder. He still smelled the same, even thousands of miles away from home: pine and clean laundry. He pushed me back carefully, keeping his hands on either side of me.

“Pretty sure you grew too.”

“Pft,” I snorted and shook my head. “You wish. Might be the elevation change.”

“You got me there, kiddo,” he laughed. His brown eyes darted over to my mother and he smiled. “And you look as beautiful as ever.”

“Nice to see you too, Will,” she replied with a bright smile of her own. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her lips. His slender hand reached out for hers, and with his other, he held mine. We maneuvered our way through the busy crowd to the luggage claim area. It felt like it had been hours before our stuff finally showed up on the luggage carousel. After grabbing my suitcase, Dad led us through the rest of the airport and out to the parking lot. The sun was just dipping below the horizon; the night sky was large and vast, yet it felt strangely different from home.

There was something in the air. Maybe it was the salt from the ocean or maybe it was just the fact that I was finally standing somewhere new and foreign.

“I’m really excited you’re all here,” Dad said as he glanced over his shoulder at us. “I’m sure you both are pretty exhausted.”

“I think I’ve just determined that I never want to have children,” I replied.

“Or you’ve learned to never travel with children,” Mom chimed. I guess there was that too. All I knew was that the two kids behind me were riding a thin line. While I adored the massage chairs in the mall, I did not like the constant pattering of feet against the back of my seat. With the added benefit of a twelve hour flight in a stiff chair, my back and my hips were immeasurably sore.

“So it’s a thirty-minute drive into the city. Do you want to eat at the apartment? Or would you like to experience some Greek food right away?”

As we came to stop beside my dad’s rental car, I yawned. While food was glorious, I was too tired to have to walk for it. Besides, I ached with airplane pain.

“Or I could run out and bring something back to the apartment,” he added, winking at me.

“That might be a contender.”

“I think going out into the city is a great idea,” my mom interjected as she slid her suitcase into the back of the trunk. “We’ve just been on a flight for hours. Getting out and using our legs might be good for us, Summer.”

“I think some sleep would be good for me,” I countered as I moved to the side door.

“Your mom and I can go out and bring something back for you, Sunny. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” I agreed before my mom had the chance to argue.

I could feel the prickle of her gaze on me, but I ignored it. More likely than not, it was as sharp as daggers. Besides, it was dad’s idea, not mine. I was just going along with his idea, which was better than hers. As dad started the car and mom started gabbing, I slipped my ear pods back into my ears and turned on my music. If I was going to greet a new city, I was going to do it in style.

The countryside was a winding array of slopes and smooth roads, speckled with the headlights of oncoming traffic in the darkened landscape. Over the hills, I noticed many of the old temples were lit, appearing along the way like magnificent and ancient Titans. Years of history waited beyond our tiny car. I wondered then what would happen if we left our car behind and abandoned the road. Would it take us back in time? Suddenly, I felt my dad’s hand on my knee, and I snapped to, tugging an ear pod from my ear.

“Welcome to Athens,” he murmured. I smiled and slid to the other side of the back seat and wrapped my arms lightly around his shoulders.

“It’s really beautiful.”

“It is,” he agreed. “I’m glad I have you both here, finally. You’re going to love it, Sunny. I promise.”

“This beats the pools, doesn’t it?” My mom chimed in. Maybe she was right. The scenery of the country was beautiful. But I was still alone. The likelihood of me ever making any friends–English speaking friends–were going to be slim. Dad drove his car through the winding, narrow streets until he parked in front of a series of close-fitted buildings. As he slipped from his seat, he pointed up to a window of one of the small buildings.

“This is home for us. At least until August.”

As I closed the side door and glanced up, I felt a sort of dread fill me. Our window was only one of many, lining the building. The doors and walls were stained with questionable street art and graffiti. I didn’t recognize or understand the writing. I wondered what they meant. Fortunately for me, there was at least one good thing that came with our new living arrangements. Across the street was a convenience store of sorts, which I noted would probably become a place I’d frequent often over the summer. I wouldn’t have to go far to get a snack or soda.

Mom tugged our luggage from the back of the car without a word. Despite the lacking luxury of a gated community, she seemed to be more at ease with our homely accommodations. I expected some kind of push from her, but no such luck. Dad led us to our apartment door and opened it with an old brass key. As he helped mom pull her suitcase into the lobby, I struggled with my own against the cobblestone sidewalk.

“Come on, Sunny,” I heard him call from over my shoulder.

I turned on my heel and tugged at my luggage just as something caught my eye. A few doors down a tall shadow lingered. It felt like it was watching me. A strange shudder ran down my spine as I looked all around me. The entire street was eerily quiet, except for distant sounds of sirens and car horns. I didn’t waste any more time; lifting the handle of my suitcase, I jostled it into the lobby and shut the main door behind me.

Dad was waiting by a narrow stone staircase and lifted his finger upwards.

“Second floor,” he explained. “It’s a pain with groceries, but it’s got a great view from the back.”

View or not, I just wanted a hot shower and a bed. In my opinion, the view of Athens and the food could wait for the morning. I heaved my suitcase up the set of stairs and followed him into the apartment. The living room and kitchen were all one shared space, leaving lots of room for furniture. The floor was lined with hardwood, giving it a very polished sort of look. And just as he promised, beyond the kitchen were a set of French doors opening to a grand view of the city. A tiny balcony would be our front row seats to the spectacle.

“Just down the hall,” Dad began as he set his keys down on a nearby table, “are two rooms. One for you and one for your Mom and I. You have your own bathroom, as do we. Everything is pretty much walking distance, except for the ocean. You’ll have to catch a cab.”

“I’m sure they have Uber,” I said with a smile.

“Right. Uber,” Dad laughed and rolled his eyes. “I forgot, we live in this tech-savvy world now-a-days.”

“No more wandering around lost with paper maps,” I teased.

“Enough talk of maps and getting lost,” My mom groaned as she collapsed onto the sofa in the open living room. “I’m starving. Food! Feed me!”

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Dad offered again, tilting his head towards the door. I shook my head.

“I’m beat. I’m going to go take a shower and crawl into bed.” I couldn’t help but yawn. “It’s practically screaming my name.”

“You hear that? Apparently our daughter is hearing voices in her head,” my dad laughed. Mom pushed herself up to her feet and started towards the door.

“That won’t be the only shocking thing you hear if I don’t get food in me,” she teased. Dad shoved his hands into his jean pockets and sighed.

“Alright, we won’t be out too late. I’ll bring you back something.”

I lifted my hand in a silent farewell, and watched as they disappeared through the main door. Suddenly, I was all alone. In Greece. As I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and finally switched the yellow airplane mode off, I was surprised to see I didn’t have any text messages to follow. No one had reached out to see how I was doing. It was sometime in the afternoon over there, while it was nearly bedtime here.

I felt a sudden drop in my shoulders as I realized my disappointment. So much for ‘friends.’

“How much time is it between Rhode Island and Athens, Greece?” I asked my cell phone as I rolled my suitcase down the hall.

The clear computer voice responded with: “Athens, Greece is seven hours ahead of Rhode Island, Summer.” Seven hours. Seven hours and thousands of miles away.

The first door on the left was a simple room with some basic furniture and a single bed. I was shocked to find the bed was already adorned with a puffy, white comforter. I set my suitcase down beside the door and fell back into the mattress. The white mass of fabric poofed up around me and as I slid my fingers over the blanket. My heart skipped with glee. There was no mistaking that this exact blanket was the same as the ones I coveted from Ikea!

I swore to myself right then and there, I would never eat another bowl of cereal in bed ever again, if only it meant my new blanket remained in pristine condition.

With that thought, I didn’t want my new bed to smell like an airplane the way I did, so I pushed myself up and went through the other door connected to my bedroom. Inside was a small, private bathroom. It was a little narrow for my taste, but it was perfect and more importantly—mine. I didn’t have to wait in line, or worry about it smelling like rose geranium toilet spray. I rushed over to my suitcase and wasted no time in digging out my pajamas and toiletries.

It felt wonderful to peel away my day-old clothes. My jeans smelled like the cheap plastic seat covers from the plane, and my buttery orange top needed a good wash. As soon as the hot water was ready, I slipped into the steam and let it drown me in sweet relief. Even the simple delights of scrubbing my scalp with shampoo was heavenly. I probably could have been in there for hours, but exhaustion was beginning to set in.

Wrapping myself up in a towel I found behind the door, I wandered back into the room and changed into an oversized grey t-shirt, and black shorts. I carelessly slid a brush through my hair and got rid of the worst of the tangles. I’d worry about the rest in the morning. Before I slipped into the covers, I opened the window in my room and listened. Athens was still alive–pulsing with a heartbeat fueled by its city’s vitality. I hoped in time I would find my own rhythm in the hustle and bustle of the city life.

But that would all have to wait until the morning. The Summer who flew in from Rhode Island, the girl on eastern standard time, wasn’t ready for a new rhythm. What I needed were a few good hours of sleep, and then I’d be up to attempt in exploring a little. Clamoring into my bed, I pulled the white coverlet over me, and closed my eyes. It definitely was from Ikea. I’d have to remember to thank dad when I saw him in the morning.

A few hours passed, but I couldn’t sleep longer than fifteen minutes at a time. I tossed and turned, trying every position to make myself comfortable. I even risked the chance of dangling my foot over the bed, uncovered without any protection, to find the perfect balance of warm and cool air on my body. While no monsters dragged me from my bed, neither could I fight the insomnia. Maybe it was the jet lag. I looked for the red numbers on the digital clock in the corner of the room.

10:32 p.m. Ugh!

My parents still weren’t back yet from their late dinner. Pushing myself back up to my feet, I sifted through my suitcase and tugged out a pair of grey jogging pants and a white tank top. Maybe a jog around the city would tire me out. I piled my damp, brown hair on top of my head and secured it with an elastic band. As I slipped back out to the kitchen, I grabbed the nearest piece of paper and pen and wrote a note to my parents of where I was going. I dipped my feet into my sneakers and popped my ear pods into my ears and started my music again before leaving the apartment.

As soon as my feet hit the pavement outside our apartment, I soaked in the fresh night air with a deep breath. It was strange; salty even. Closing my eyes for a moment, I pushed myself from the curb and began to jog down the street. Some of the roads were narrow and windy, while others opened to lush buildings, aged with stone and beauty. The farther I ran towards the horizon, the more I could smell the ocean. Mom had mentioned we weren’t far. What would be a twenty-minute walk was becoming a ten-minute run. I crossed a large road, which opened to the vast sight of the sea. The waves were dull–quiet even. I was surprised to find no one was walking about. It certainly wasn’t like our boardwalks back home.

Deciding to be daring, I tugged my sneakers off and wandered down to the coast line. The water was cold, but it felt good against my feet. I had only ever put my feet in the Atlantic Ocean–now, I was standing in the Aegean Sea. Maybe that was i********: worthy. I bent down and lifted a small shell that lingered on the sand; it was smooth and white and nearly whole. I’d keep that as a keepsake for my first encounter with the Aegean Sea. As I turned back towards the distant lights, I felt a sharp sting against the sole of my left foot.

“s**t!” I screeched as I lifted my foot and hobbled to the dry sand.

I sat and glanced down at the bottom of my foot, finding a long scratch along the length of my sole. Damn. This was going to be hard to run with. As I lowered my foot back into the sand, a strange ringing filled my ears. Everything was dizzy and hazy for a moment–like the entire earth was off balance. And just as quickly as it had occurred, everything returned to being still–silent.

The sooner I got back to the apartment, the better. Maybe there was something in the sea water that no one had warned me about. I hissed a breath and shoved my bleeding foot into my sneaker. The sooner I got home, the sooner I could tend to the scratch. I could already hear my mother in my ear: “You’re going to get an infection!”

I pushed myself up onto my feet again and hobbled back towards the main road. My foot stung so badly it brought fresh tears to my eyes. If I was going to get home on my own, I needed to suck it up and push through the pain. Halfway through the route though, I began to regret ever leaving the apartment. This was supposed to be tiring... not painfully so. Nothing along the winding road looked familiar, and I was growing dizzier from the pain. Glancing down at my phone, I decided to try to use my GPS app to get me back to the apartment. Thank God for Google. If I hadn’t searched Dad’s address earlier, I would be totally clueless…

I leaned against the side of a building, relieved by the cool stone, as the map loaded. Unlike the beach, there were actually some younger people walking about which made me feel a little more at ease. Some of them were laughing, taking selfies, and drinking from what looked to be soda bottles. At first, they seemed like normal people having a good time. But as they wandered closer, their faces appeared to be dark – twisted. Something wasn’t right. A cold chill ran up my spine and the hairs on my arms stood tall. I tried to squeeze my eyes shut, in hopes that the images would disappear. But as I peered at the passersby again, I was met with their empty gazes.

A warning light went off inside my head. If I didn’t move, I might be in more danger than having a cut on the bottom of my foot.

“It’s not real,” I whispered under my breath. “It’s not real.” Thankfully, the map finished loading and I pushed myself off the building towards a new route, somewhere far out of the way–somewhere that would lead me away this place.

“Your destination is on the left.” the voice said finally. Google maps heard my prayers. On my left, just around a sharp corner turn, was the apartment complex where I had begun. I had found my way back. Hallelujah!

The door was still unlocked–which meant my parents still hadn’t returned. As I ran up to the apartment door, I shoved my sneakers off and hopped back to my room. Taking another shower wouldn’t be the end of the world. I discarded my clothes on the floor and slid back underneath the hot water. The blood and sand from the beach ran down the drain, finally leaving my foot clean but throbbing.

In the morning I would find a bandage. For now, I’d wrap it up with toilet paper and hope for the best.

I ventured out to the kitchen and searched the cabinets for my dad's secret stash. He always had a bottle of scotch handy. Mom never cared for alcohol in the house, but dad was a scholar and like every man with a PhD., he needed what he called his ‘thinking juice.’

I found it tucked safely behind a stack of sardine cans, which was his way of diverting my mother's attention from the real treasure. She hated sardines, as did he, but she didn't know that.

The bottle was only a third of the way gone, so I popped it open and maneuvered my foot over the sink. This was going to burn, but I had watched enough movies to know alcohol would disinfect my cut. The second the lukewarm liquid raced over the red skin, I gasped and nearly dropped the bottle. The instant I caught it, I brought it close to my chest and cradled it like a child. My experience with alcohol was limited, but just the smell of the stuff was enough to get me drunk.

I’m sure if it had shattered, the entire street would be able to smell it – and with mom being like a bloodhound, she would have turned heel hard towards home. I brought it closer to my nose and inhaled deeply. It didn’t smell remotely close to the sweet aroma of my roommate’s wine coolers. The strange tang left me wondering what it would taste like. With that thought hard on my mind, I tipped it back and took a swig.

Worst. Idea. Ever.

“Oh my god!” I gagged, after twisting the cap back on. “That’s awful. Why in the world would dad drink this stuff?”

I pushed the scotch bottle back into it’s secret hiding place with a hard thump. That was enough “adventuring” for me tonight. After limping back to my room, I changed into my pajamas for the second time, and finally felt tired enough to sleep. The blankets were cool and inviting as I pulled them around me. As I laid there in the dark quiet, I could still hear the strange ringing in my ears from before. I prayed it would be gone by the morning.