"Never mind. I have witnessed scarier things on these roads." I retort, but she doesn't pay attention.
"I give up!" Removing the other dark lens - that I notice to be already chipped -, she throws it to the back of the car. "My head will kill me later." She puckers her lips.
I fumble for my own sun glasses in the backpack, and quickly handle them to her.
"They might fit over yours" I suggest.
They do. She claps her hands, and I am hoping we have a deal. She wouldn't kill me to steal my glasses - would she?
"You are a darling boy! Now we won't risk falling into the abyss!" She lets out a cheerful laugh, and slaps my thigh.
Turning the music off so we can chat, we are on our way.
*****
"The next curve changed my life!"
Daniela's announcement does not contain a warning, but from the way she drives I am afraid she will start describing an accident. Gladly, for both of us, I'm awfully wrong.
"That dilapidated bus I traveled on was certainly taller than this car, and I took in much more... than this!" She opens the palm of her hand, as if offering me the vast scenery that invades our eyes, and parks the vehicle right after the curve.
I gasp, jumping off the car. Coming off the curve between the boulders feels like opening a cupboard - to find it gives to a wide-open window.
Breathless, I am able to finally watch the postcard come alive under the sunlight. Right before my eyes, the labyrinth of houses shines immaculately, as if the owners have whitewashed them that very morning. The village has grown a little over the years, following the coast on both sides of the peninsula, along its two pristine beaches. Yet, the pines grove at the top tip of the sword seems perfectly preserved, its lush, springy green contrasting with the grey, rugged rocks. The little port too, seems to hold more boats than I recall having counted. Anchored in a gracious arch, their varied colors create a floating rainbow, set against the light blue sea. Orchards adorn the limits of the village and climb the slope in our direction in neat lines. I think I can almost smell the limes and oranges - but no, Daniela is just peeling one by my side.
I am aware of being observed by her while contemplating the view. Satisfied with my display of genuine joy, she explains how she abandoned everything in Belgium and moved to Greece.
"That is so courageous of you!" I comment, wondering if I would ever do something similar. I usually think of myself as a coward.
"Not really." She hands me half of the orange, inviting me to sit on the hood of her car. "I hated my job in advertising. To the bitter end. I felt all I did was coating shit with gold. The money was good, but it went down the drain on a tiny rented apartment, so dark all plants would die; and on trendy new clothes and shoes I hated but had to wear to impress the clients. High heels hurt me, and gave me chronic pain along my spine. I had grown allergic to make-up, too, having to buy special brands only. All very expensive, of course. Every winter my skin would dry to fall in flakes. I had cold sores and painful joints..." She spits a seed, and then apologizes. "Sorry for my bad manners. But remembering my previous life always triggers the worst in me... "
That's when I spit two seeds myself.
Daniela immediately laughs. "Boy, you are a darling!" She laughs again, leaving me to grab another orange.
She keeps calling me boy, and I peer in her direction, trying to guess her age. Her suntan has a double take - it gives her the healthiest of looks, contrasting beautifully with her silver hair and green eyes, but it also has all her wrinkles standing out to ruthless detail. I guess she is over forty and below fifty, which probably makes her double my age somewhat. But that doesn't make me a boy, nor does it turn her into an elder. A beautiful woman she is, at whatever age, with a firm and shapely, if slim, body.
Where the road ends | Part 2
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