The Day After Forever

By George D. Demakas

Perhaps it was coincidence or fate, beautiful Anna and Captain Nikolas met aboard a cruise ship, at that moment both knew it was true love, nothing will ever separate them but second World War was ravaging southern Europe, Germans paratroopers demolished Crete separating them loosing track of each other.

Anna suffers a lot but always keeps the faith, a cruel civil war made her turn into a warrior. Never loosing her humanness she helped friend and foe alike as a nurse. Destructive forces from East and West try to divide everything and everybody. The selfishness and jealousy of Melpomeni Bouras, her mother, along with the malevolence of Doctor Vassili Tsipras took advantage of Annas innocence and did everything possible to destroy her dreams.

After abducting her baby they drove Anna to the brink, the only hope that remained for her was God and keeping the faith that some day she would be reunited with Nikolas.

Nikolas landed with the British in Egypt, but even after his ship and memories sank his strong belief, the help of a monastic and the love of his mother made him find his true self again. Or did he?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9781475987645

George D. Demakas

Studied Creative Writing at Berkeley, author of five plays, three of them successfully produced. He worked on several plays and received many awards from the Germans and the U. S. Military. He lives in Berkeley, California and Greece.

Book preview

Chapter 1

S he stood at the edge of the cliff, looking at the sea crashing against the dark, volcanic rocks below her isolated island. Her only love, Nikolas, disappeared, swallowed by the sea. She sees his face as she gazes at the dark blue waters of the deep Mediterranean and she waits. To the world, she was Elder Agatha, respected Abbess of this isolated and desolate convent high above a steep rock formation on this remote island, a dedicated servant of God. But in her own mind she was still Anna Bouras, married not to Christ, but to Captain Nikolas Theophilos, an officer of the Royal Greek Navy, and the mother of his child. Fate had taken this child poor Nikolas had never even known he had, the child she had never been allowed to see or hold, or even touch, alive or dead, kept from her by Satan with a human face, in the form of Dr. Vassili Tsipras.

It had been ten years now since she had seen or heard from her beloved Nikolas. Almost nine years since she had heard that he was dead, but still she refused to believe it. In her heart, she knew that Nikolas was alive somewhere. He had to be. She could not accept the alternative. She would not. As long as she was alive, then she knew that Nikolas was alive somewhere. He had to be, because otherwise, she would never be complete and that could not possibly be God’s plan for her.

Somewhere, Nikolas was out there in the world. Why he had not come for her, she did not know and could not understand, but she always felt his presence there in her heart, and she knew that that, plus her love for God, was all that kept her going and she would never give up, would never be happy or content until someday he came back for her.

*     *     *

It had been seven years since the end of the war, three years since Nikolas had regained his memory, and more than ten years since he had seen his Anna, but somehow, somewhere, he knew that he would find her. He stared out to sea and he thought about her. He had somehow survived the war and the Wehrmacht invasion of Crete, the largest bombing and paratroop invasion the world had ever known in April, 1941, and he had to believe that she was alive too, and that when he found her, she would again be his. He knew the odds he faced, but it was all that kept him going, all that he had to live for…

Captain Nikolas! Captain Nikolas! Look… Look up there! Yanni said breathlessly, with a touch of hope in his voice. His long hair, the color of wild reeds, was blowing in the wind as he stretched his tall, slender body. Pointing at the inhospitable terrain above the sea cliff as he held the ship’s wheel tightly with his other hand, he shouted, Look! It looks like a small monastery or hermitage. There is a white chapel and a bell tower.

I see, Yanni, said Nikolas, his clear deep voice anxious with emotion. Who could have committed such a great sin to be exiled in so desolate a place as this, he murmured under his graying mustache. Impossible! No, no. I can’t even think of it.

Nikolas lifted his heavy eyebrows and looked again. A ray of hope flashed through his turbulent mind, like a light helping to guide him out of his labyrinth of resentment, as the dark blue waters foamed with an emotion to match his own, crashing against the ship’s keel. The towering rocks of the island stood like some angry Poseidon emerging from the sea.

He took the wheel and steered the vessel to a safe distance from the rocks as Yanni ran below to get the binoculars. Returning with them quickly, he hung them around Nikolas’s neck. The wind whistled furiously against the ship’s mast and ropes, beating them mercilessly. Nikolas grabbed the binoculars and angled them at the barren mountain terrain, combing the area for signs of life.

He saw the whitewashed chapel, the wall surrounding it, and other structures nearby. The chapel door was open. Ah! A good sign, he thought. Or, maybe just some careless pilgrim left it open. He looked again and there was no movement of any kind, except seagulls and a lonely cypress tree, prostrate against the swift wind. Disappointed, he tossed the binoculars on the wet wooden deck.

He looked up toward the dark sky and cursed the weather, genuinely concerned about the safety of his men onboard. The sun unsuccessfully tried to break through the thick, dark, fast-moving clouds. A storm was in the making.

Yanni, here, take the wheel, said a determined Captain Nikolas as he picked up the binoculars and brought them back to his eyes to refocus on the chapel. A slight smile appeared on his lips as his clenched teeth relaxed and he shouted with a triumphant voice, Oh my God! My God! There are people up there!

He spotted four or five women, moving gracefully like sirens, dressed in long black robes covering their entire bodies, except their faces. With their garments flowing in the wind, they stood out starkly against the whitewashed walls of the chapel. One of them stopped, gazed at the ship, and raised her arm to greet them. Nikolas raised his hand in return, only afterward realizing the distance was too great for his response to be noticed. One by one, the women entered the chapel, lowering their heads to fit into the tiny door. Nikolas felt tightness in his chest. His body and mind were in turmoil as he began pacing the wet deck.

I am running out of places to search. Maybe she moved to America, where she was born. Probably California, as I first thought, not this God-forsaken place. Anna would never spend time in a crow’s nest like this. No, she would never come here.

Burning tears filled his eyes and the tenuous control over his emotions was lost. He covered his face with his hands and cried silently, his body quivering uncontrollably like a mortally wounded buck about to be devoured by a hungry lion. In his case, the predator was his own cruel destiny.

Oh my Anna, my poor Anna, my love! How much pain I have caused you. He set his face down into the palms of his hands. Nikolas felt an inexplicable power magnetically pulling the vessel toward the rocks. He could not distinguish whether it was real or imagined, but he no longer cared.

The remembrance of soothing voices and angelic chanting filled his mind as he recalled the women in black. His heart leapt back to life as he felt Anna’s presence again, and smelled her body’s fragrance. He could still remember caressing her flowing soft blonde hair, the tips of his fingers touching her inviting red lips, and then kissing them passionately. He covered his ears as the voices merged into one whispering, I love you Niko. I will always love you. I will be with you forever, my love. Those were Anna’s last words to him when they fled from war-torn Crete.

She had said those precious words just before the onslaught of Hitler’s paratroops on the big island, falling like hungry locusts from the sky. Nikolas had repeated her words over and over again in his mind and they had given him courage as the German Air Force attacked his ship. When he was in Egypt, suffering from amnesia, only her unflinching love had kept him going through the long, dark years.

He stood up. No, no! he protested. Destiny is not playing games with me. It’s impossible.

He sat down again as he felt the light-headedness of vertigo coming on. Adoni’s well-worn bell-bottom pants slapped against his legs in the wind as the young sailor ran to assist his captain. He gripped Nikolas’s arm strongly as the turbulent sea roared below them. Nikolas looked sorrowfully at Yanni and Adoni as he wondered how this desolate place could possibly hold the woman Captain Nikolas loved.

Yanni and Adoni remained silent as they looked at Nikolas, sharing his feelings of loss.

Impossible, murmured Nikolas again, standing up and brushing away the thought with a swift flick of his hand. Impossible, he repeated, but this time it was hard to hear what he was muttering. He stretched out his weary body and tried to get a hold of his volatile emotions. He nervously lifted the collar of his navy wool coat to shelter himself from the biting wind, but a cold shiver moved down his spine nonetheless.

Nikolas had so much to share with Anna, if they ever saw each other again. He promised himself that he would tell her every last adventure he had survived since their separation. He deeply regretted being away from his love for such a long time. If only things had been different, he whispered to himself.

The ship’s log indicated it was May 27, 1952. The sea continued its angry pull, forcing the vessel dangerously close to the jagged rocks. Any small mistake by Yanni or Nikolas would smash the ship into splinters.

Keep a safe distance from those shores, Yanni, ordered Captain Nikolas. Sail away from them.

A few warm rays from the sun managed to pierce the dark clouds as Nikolas sank down into his chair. When he lit his cigarette, Adoni took his cue and quickly brought him a cup of strong Greek coffee. Nikolas thanked him with a nod and lifted the steaming cup to his nose to savor the aroma. Before taking his first sip, he inhaled a long drag from his cigarette. He held it deep inside his lungs as long as possible, as though the smoke could fumigate the pain clawing inside of him. Then he blew it out with a big sigh. Feeling defeated, he lowered his head in despair and surrendered once again to his fate.

Yanni glanced over at Adoni and summoned him to take the wheel for a moment, then proceeded below deck and returned with a bottle of raki, which he offered to Nikolas. Pouring a shot for him, Yanni said, Here, take this, my friend. It will cure whatever ails you.

Even a heart broken by the war? Nikolas asked.

I’m not sure it is that potent sir, Yanni joked quietly.

He had developed a strong bond with his captain. Yanni understood and loved him. There was nothing he would not do for Nikolas; they enjoyed a friendship in its purest form.

Nikolas looked up at Yanni and Adoni, and focusing back on Yanni, he asked:

Do you think I will ever find her, Yanni?

I know you will, Captain, Yanni replied with a quick salute. He then sighed and repeated in a lower tone, almost a prayer, I know you will, Nikolas.

Adoni looked at Nikolas and with a smile said:

I will be with you until you find her, all the way to the end.

Thank you, Nikolas replied in the same solemn tone. Let’s see if we can find a safe harbor to drop anchor. I want to explore this monastery. I am running out of places to look. What do you think, Yanni?

Yes, sir, replied Yanni, slightly lowering his strong head and shoulders, concerned about the approaching darkness and storm. He shared his captain’s weary frustration and understood his unrelenting determination. You are the captain; it’s your decision, sir. The two men looked at each other and did not need to exchange words. The idea of dropping anchor was abandoned. The Ithaka sailed away.

Chapter 2

N ikolas quickly gave the instructions to sail away from the rocky island. Let’s sail for Samos, men, Captain Nikolas ordered in a heavy voice, disappointed once more, having failed to locate Anna. We will return to this island another time. We must not leave any stone unturned.

He wrapped his arms around the mast as the ship rocked heavily. When Adoni brought him his sturdy solid oak chair, Nikolas sat down, relieved. Although he was tired, the strong raki had done its job. His eyelids felt heavy as he became hypnotized from staring at the wide-open sea. Sleep overcame him in the comfortable captain’s chair.

In low tones, the ship’s radio played music from Anatolia, melodies that combined Byzantine chanting with echoes of exotic India. Nikolas’s fatigued face relaxed and even brightened a bit, and a wide smile appeared on his lips, like a child. The melodies brought back memories of undulating belly dancers and his childhood in lovely Smyrna on the pristine shores of Asia Minor. However, his pleasant reverie lasted only a short moment.

Suddenly his expression changed and he resembled the tortured sea beneath the boat. His eyes moved rapidly under his closed eyelids, his body quivered violently, and his powerful hands clenched the wooden arms of the chair. This reaction lasted awhile. Just as the concerned Yanni and Adoni hurried toward the captain to release him from his agony, Nikolas woke up. He looked around, felt himself, stood up, and walked to the stern. The sun was fading behind the rocky island and the eternal Grecian sea. How many more wasted sunsets, he wondered? How many more broken hearts? How many more lost dreams? If the sea could only speak, it would be the best storyteller in all of Greece.

Full sail for Samos, men, Captain Nikolas ordered loudly.

Aye-aye, sir! the men replied heartily.

Nikolas took another unfiltered Greek cigarette and placed it between his lips. Young Adoni ran to light it for him. Afterwards, the handsome sailor brought coffee and sat down next to Captain Nikolas, while Yanni was at the wheel.

It was quite an experience to watch you— Adoni began to say.

Yes, my God, I thought you would break the arms of your chair, sir, Yanni interrupted. You looked like you were… he said, bringing his fist up to show a boxing position.

Were you fighting with somebody? asked Adoni.

Yeah, I’d hate to see what the other guy looked like after you were done with him, said Yanni, smiling in admiration.

Inhaling heavily, Nikolas sighed and took a big sip of coffee. After a moment of deep thought, he replied:

Yeah, the other guy… The big monster that lurks behind those mountains, waiting to pounce anytime, its claws still full of my father’s flesh and the flesh of thousands of others it has devoured. He was glaring at the dark mountains of Turkey, a scarce few miles away. I wish I could strangle it with my own two hands. A deep sigh escaped from his half trembling mouth as he gritted his teeth and slammed his fisted right hand powerfully on the arm of his chair. Yes, the damn Turks stole my childhood. They destroyed my home, my dreams, and my country. The Turks took all of it, Nikolas said, spitting out each syllable. I was barely ten at the time, 1922, the year of the Great Catastrophe, as it came to be known.

I never realized you were in the Great Catastrophe, Yanni said, amazed.

My mother, father, two older sisters, and I lived together in a lovely house in a suburb of Smyrna. Oh, the roses, the jasmine, the night flowers in our garden. I remember lying on the grass at midnight counting every star in the clear sky.

His eyes clouding with tears, Nikolas continued, My father used to take me to his bank after Greek school. ‘I will teach you the business someday, Niko,’ he used to tell me, kissing me on each cheek and then the top of my head. I was so happy then. Nikolas reached beneath his shirt to touch the gold chain and cross that hung around his neck. It had been a gift from his father, and without looking at it, he held the cross tightly in his hand. Then, suddenly remembering, he cried out, Oh God, dear God, how could I for a moment forget that this is Anna’s cross and chain. Yes, yes! We exchanged crosses on the raft. He held his head. I forget. I have these lapses of memory.

What happened, sir? asked Yanni.

During the war, when my ship got bombed, I was injured and became amnesic, Nikolas replied, holding the cross tightly. I completely forgot who I was. Now you know why it is important to find Anna.

I see sir.

At ten, continued Nikolas, "I didn’t know that in 1453 the Turks had ransacked Constantinople and took over Byzantium, the Eastern Roman Empire. It was a place completely Hellenized, Greek in every respect, in thought and language. In 1920, when the Greeks with the support of the Allies after the First World War retook the area, fifteen to twenty thousand people of Greek origin lived in the suburbs of Smyrna alone. The Greeks fought a holding action for about two years, but after the British and French withdrew support, my countrymen, including my family, were left in a precarious position.

"It was a Sunday. We had just returned from church and were about to have our meal when Turkish soldiers burst into our house. Pointing their rifles, they ordered us into a corner and proceeded to loot gold coins and jewelry, everything of value. Then they ate our food and savagely raped my two sisters. I shall never forget their screams. Like a hen whose nest had been invaded, my mother screamed and pleaded with the soldiers, but it was to no avail. One of them hit her in the head with the butt of his rifle, rendering her unconscious. My father was brutally shot in our front yard.

"I ran outside and saw my father’s body, his face in a pool of blood. I could see his lips moving, trying to say something. In a fury, I grabbed one of the soldiers by the leg and bit him. He screamed and kicked me in the stomach, knocking me to the ground. As I lay there, my sight faded and the sky turned a bloody red. My right hand rested on my father’s warm blood as I passed out.

"When I came to, I was back in my mother’s arms as she walked on the streets of Smyrna toward the harbor. Thousands and thousands of people were crying and looking for their lost loved ones. Some people with their clothes and skin on fire were screaming in pain. Survivors say they heard the screams two miles away.

"Old people ran into the churches, seeking safety. The Turks had doused the buildings with benzene and set them on fire, with the people inside. Those who were able to escape were shot down by the Turkish soldiers. The whole Greek and Armenian section of Smyrna was an inferno. Some people tried leaving the area, but the Turks herded them back into the fire, beating them mercilessly. They used their bayonets to kill them, shooting or beating them to death. The Turks made their choice. When I was younger, all I wanted was to shoot every Turkish soldier. But now, I only feel pity for them.

"Men, women, and children fell, one after another. The streets were literally covered with dead bodies. Mothers carried their children in their arms, searching for help, even though they knew there was no life left in the small bodies.

"My mother, two sisters, and I ran into a consulate. I do not recall now what country it represented, only that they were willing to offer us protection. But I was scared. I broke loose and ran as fast as my strength would allow. I felt like my feet had wings. I could hear my mother calling, ‘Niko! Niko my child!’ But I did not stop. Her voice is still an echo in my ears. My heart was beating quickly, like a scared rabbit, and I was short of breath. A Turkish soldier with a fixed bayonet tried to stop me on the street, but I used one of my soccer moves to get around him.

"There was thick choking smoke and fire everywhere. Three—and four-story buildings were burning and crumbling to the ground. Hell couldn’t have looked worse. Thousands of women and children were flocking to the harbor in an effort to escape the holocaust and the pursuing Turkish soldiers. There were several large ships in the harbor, all bearing different flags, but none came to help. They chose to stay away from the docks.

"The murky waters of the harbor did not stop me from jumping in to swim toward one of the huge ships; the one I believed was flying the flag of the United States. Most of the people who swam alongside me toward the ships met with misfortune: They were injured by the ships’ propellers or poked with sticks from the sailors above as they clung to the anchor chains.

"The rage and destruction went on for days. In some places the flames rose as high as thirty meters, resembling an erupting volcano. I learned later that over a hundred thousand Greeks were massacred throughout the entire region. Although my extended family all perished in the holocaust, my mother and sisters managed to escape to the island of Lesbos. Later, they traveled to Athens, where we were eventually reunited at the home of my mother’s brother, who lived there.

"You are probably wondering how I was so lucky to escape. I was taken with other refugees aboard the American ship to the island of Chios. Then I went to Piraeus, the Port of Athens.

Listen to me, after a couple of drinks of raki my tongue loses control. You know Yanni… I feel like I have let go of a ton of lead that was on my chest. I guess I needed to talk about what happened to me and my family.

The wind had calmed down now. The sun had lost its hold on the day. Darkness would soon take its place. The boat moved at a fast pace and the fresh Mediterranean salt air soothed the men’s faces as they both stood by the steering wheel.

Oh my captain… My dear captain, what hell you have been through, said Yanni in a low voice. I should get on my knees and thank God that it didn’t happen to me and my family.

Yanni, interrupted Nikolas, I’ve spent more than my share of talking. Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself?

Okay, okay. Well, I guess I can, said Yanni. I’m a simple man. I love the sea and everything to do with it. I just want to live on it, and when my time comes, to die on it.

That’s pretty strong stuff, Yanni, Adoni commented as he lit a cigarette and, taking a drag, crossed himself.

Adoni, bite your tongue, ordered Captain Nikolas.

The two younger men looked at Nikolas, wondering about his sudden reproachfulness.

As if to break the strange silence, Yanni continued:

Yeah, when I am at sea, I feel as free as a bird. He spread his arms in a flying gesture. You know, Captain, if I wasn’t working with you trying to find Anna, I would go to America or Australia.

What about your wife and children, Yanni? asked Nikolas.

They seem happy without me, especially my wife, replied Yanni. She is happy to see me once every couple of months. That way we have a new honeymoon. And we never get tired of each other, or so she says.

When I find Anna, I will never stay away from her. Not for a single day, said Nikolas with a deep sigh. I am not much of a religious man, but I keep asking the Ever Holy One, Virgin Mary, to use her influence with her son to help me find Anna. And when I do, I will have a direct talk with Jesus to let her go. Thousands of women are committed to him. I hope he will understand that Anna is mine.

What do you mean, Captain? asked Yanni, as Adoni listened with a questioning expression.

"I mean, once a woman decides to become a nun, she forfeits her identity, surrenders her will. She is given a new name and becomes married to Christ. I was told all this by the hierarch of the church, when I asked him to tell me where to find Anna. So here we are. I have gone to countless monasteries. However, the sisters are protective of their own. You can’t get any information out of them.

Once an elder with an angelic face told me, ‘my son, if you want to find her, you must ask the Virgin Mary and Christ himself. Only they can help. Now go in peace.’ Then she shut the huge convent door in my face.

The boat sailed slowly into the harbor of Pythagorean Samos. Let’s stop for the night, said Nikolas.

Yanni threw the ropes and proceeded, with Adoni’s help, to tie up the twenty-four-meter vessel. It was a cool but pleasant evening. The friendly people of Samos were smiling as they walked in pairs along the dock. Children played barefoot nearby at the water’s edge. A striped cat rushed toward the fishermen’s nets, looking for a meal. Blonde Scandinavian girls were busy flirting with the native young Greek men. Nikolas sighed deeply. His heart felt tight as he saw them. He looked away and pulled the ropes to secure the boat. When they finished, Adoni went below.

Tonight the three of us are going to town. My treat.

Okay, sir. I’ll get Adoni, replied Yanni.

On second thought, why don’t I meet you at Manolis’ Tavern in a couple of hours, said Nikolas.

He gazed at the mountains behind him that looked as if an artist’s fine brush had changed the sky from light blue to dusky deep red above them. He scattered the happy thoughts of the past with a shake of his head and left the boat. Feeling lonely, he wandered the narrow streets of the town. His heart was empty.

He recalled how he and Anna had visited the island a long time ago, walking the same narrow, deserted streets, holding hands. He had stolen kisses from her and she had