A Day In The Life

The prompt for the Monday Chatham Writers Group was to write something, in any genre, relating to the photo above. My story follows.

Father Pappas gazed out the window of his office, deep in thought about how to end his sermon for the Sunday services. Engrossed in his sermon, he didn’t hear the gentle knocking on the door, only stirring when he heard his secretary ask, “Father? There’s a visitor with an urgent message. May we come in?”

   Spinning his chair around to face the office door, his deep baritone voice replied, “Mrs. Cosmos! Yes! Please come in.”

    Mrs. Cosmos opened the door and ushered in a boy with a post card sized envelope gripped in his right hand.

  “Father, this is Elias Artino. He has a message for you. He claims it’s urgent.”

   The boy was nervous. His eyes darted around the office.

   Father Pappas smiled, “Ahh. Master Artino. It’s good to see you. You have an urgent message for me? Is everything alright at home?”

   As presbyter of the Parish of St. Demetrios in Karpenisi, he felt he was not only the Father of the church, but the father of each parishioner’s family. His level of concern for the people of his community ran deep, they felt it as well.

   “M..m..my family is well, Father Pappas,” Elias stammered, “It’s note from Mrs. Tsolis.” He thrust his tiny hand out and placed the note on the Father’s desk.

   “Thank you, Elias. Which Mrs. Tsolis? The one at the bottom of Ydros Way? Or at the top?”

   “Top. May I go now?”

   “Of course. Tell your family I send my best wishes.” Father Pappas chuckled as Elias scampered away.

   Opening the envelope, he removed the card. His brow furrowed.

   “Is Mrs. Tsolis okay?” asked Mrs. Cosmos.

   Father Pappas shrugged and said, “I don’t know. The note is asking me to come to her home as soon as possible. It’s urgent, so I better be on my way.”

   He rose from his chair, put his cassock on and placed the kalimavkion on his head and looked in a mirror to make sure it was straight.

  “Mrs. Tsolis at the top of Ydros Way,” he sighed, “My cardio workout for the day, Mrs. Cosmos.”

   Reaching Ydros Way, Father Pappas paused for a moment and stared at the steep, cobblestoned road. “OOOH boy,” he exhaled. Seeing a line of mopeds outside of a bakery, he said, “I could use one of those.” He stepped into the bakery and bought a few pieces of Baklava to bring to Mrs. Tsolis.

   He stopped twice to catch his breath while climbing Ydros Way and tried to envision the reasons for Mrs. Tsolis’ sense of urgency. It was 18 months since her husband had passed away. Father Pappas had visited times and had also spoken to her at church. She seemed to do well. However, her son, Achilles, was her Achilles heel. Displaying a rebellious streak when he turned 14, it accelerated and led to several run-ins with the Karpenisi police, culminating with his arrest for breaking into a neighbor’s home to steal some jewelry. Because he was too young for jail, the court placed him under house arrest and required community service. At 18, Achilles left home to work on a fishing boat on the island of Mykonos but fell in with a bad crowd and was now one of several men suspected of robbing a bank in Lamia. The news shattered his mother. Perhaps she needed comfort and support. Father Pappas looked up Ydros Way once more. “Almost there,” he sighed.

   Reaching the house, Mrs. Tsolis yanked the door open before he knocked. “Come in Father. Hurry. Please.” She shoved him into the foyer and looked both ways on Ydros Way before shutting the door.

   Father Pappas asked, “Mrs. Tsolis! What’s wrong?”

  “I’m what’s wrong.” Said Achilles Tsolis as he stepped from the kitchen. A snub nose revolver was in his right hand, pointed at Father Tsolis.

  “That’s unnecessary, Achilles. I won’t harm you.”

  “I know, Father. But I hope you understand,” said Achilles, before adding, “I did something terrible.”

   “I understand you are a suspect in a crime in Lamia. Is that what this is about?” asked Father Pappas.

   “I was involved in a robbery, Father. But I have done something even worse.”
   “What could be worse than robbing a bank?”

   “I didn’t split the money with my accomplices. Now the police and three terrible dudes are looking for me.”

   “Do you wish to turn yourself in? Is that why I am here?” asked Father Pappas.
   “NO! Absolutely not!!” exclaimed Achilles. “You’re here because I want you to give me your clothes. That’s my ticket out of here.”

    Momentarily confused, Father Pappas exclaimed, “What!?”

   “Your clothes. Now!”Achilles pointed the gun at Father Pappas.

    Father Pappas asked a sobbing Mrs. Tsolis to get him a blanket.

   When she left, he undressed and handed his vestments to Achilles, who took them and went back into the kitchen. Mrs. Tsolis returned with a blanket.

   Achilles stepped from the kitchen, dressed as an Orthodox Priest. The gun in his right hand, a canvas sack in his left. He said, “I’m sorry”, opened the front door, scanned Ydros Way, and left, closing the door behind him.

   Sounds like firecrackers made both Father Pappas and Mrs. Tsolis jump. Police whistles screeched. Voices shouted, “He’s down!”

   Mrs. Tsolis buried her face in her hands and began to wail.