Like A Stacked Deck
Stefanos Livos
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2010 Stefanos Livos
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It’s always like that. You leave and everything changes. You stay and nothing changes. It's as if life is the best card dealer and, shuffling the cards, tells you: Here’s good luck, there’s good luck, where’s good luck? And though you think you will make the right choice, you always pick the wrong card.
That’s what happened to Demosthenes. As soon as he met Ria, he had to leave for England, for his postgraduate degree. She had doubts about long–distance relationships, while he didn’t.
No big deal! It only takes you four hours from Athens to London. Going from Kifissia to Pireaus by bus takes longer than that, especially when there is a demonstration downtown. And they don’t even serve food! As for the plane tickets, just make sure you book them well in advance and you get them almost for free.
As though they would see each other more often if he lived in Greece... He would have to work, so would she, and then allow for one hour daily commuting. They would end up seeing each other only twice a week, whereas now a weekend in London would amount to quality time. They would be together all day long. Especially, all night long...
Hearing all this, Ria began to reconsider. What if Demosthenes was the man of her dreams? Maybe not, but what if he was? Should she give it a try? It would be a one–year postgraduate course; take out a fortnight at Christmas, another one at Easter, three months in the summer, they add up to four months already gone. During the remaining eight, they would take it in turns: she would go to London, he would come to Athens, and sometimes they could even meet in Paris, where her sister was studying. No matter what, they would meet again before oblivion set in.
That’s what love is like. Maths. It either adds up or it doesn’t. You do your calculations, if you find it difficult you try a little harder, and then, at some point, you either solve the problem or quit. And if the equation seems too complicated to give the easy results you got, then you know you’ve got something wrong. In maths, it may be easy to erase and correct, but in love? Life has no erasers or rubbers, no correction fluid or ctrl and z.
You look at your cards, you look on the table, you take a deep breath and pick the next card. The card Demosthenes had picked was his ticket for London. Ria had agreed to try their hand at a long–distance relationship, but she still held out hope that Demosthenes might not leave. It must have had to do with her ego. It’s one thing for someone to change their plans and another thing to include you in their plans.
Since they were in that relationship, she had to see him off at the airport, waving a handkerchief. What Fate had in store for her... After a two–month relationship, she had to meet his parents. To add insult to injury, she also had to kiss him goodbye in front of them and stoop to being given a ride back home. What excuse could she make up? I prefer the metro because I like reading the ads and watching the people? Their houses were just five blocks away.
Fortunately, his sister would join them. She was a nice girl. They could play at gossiping, in hopes that his mother wouldn’t give her the third degree. You bet! There was no way that fox would normally let her get away like that, without filling out Proust’s questionnaire. Yet, Ria got away in the blur of the moment, as the typical Greek mother let a tear trickle down her cheek.
“She's a nice girl”, the mother said, right after they dropped her at her house. Her words sounded as a take–off for her first reconnaissance flight. If her husband agreed, she would understand that she should unload her guns and return. If he disagreed, she would load them and start bombarding, till all positive impressions of her would–be daughter–in–law were severely damaged.
But rather than becoming a would–be daughter–in–law, Ria ended up an ex–chick. She couldn’t take it, Athens–London. She saw Demosthenes on Skype and wanted to hug him and kiss him, tussle his hair and throw at him the teddy bear he had given her. Now, she threw the teddy bear against her computer screen and it fell on the floor in a funny as well as a sad way.
Love might be maths, but doesn’t sit comfortably within technology. Kisses cannot turn into bits and bytes, the smile cannot light up with pixels, the hug cannot be scanned. When you’re told how much one loves you, it’s not in gigabytes. So, Ria couldn’t take it any more and, a couple of days before he came back for New Year’s Day, she broke up with him.
It was better that way. Better now, at the beginning, than later, when their bond would be stronger. Splitting up on Skype. You want to scream blue murder and the other one must turn down the volume to spare themselves your ear–splitting voice. You are in distress and there pops up a window with your Chinese neighbour in the hall of residence: Are yu goin at the party tonigh?
Demosthenes had to be patient for two days. Only two days. He would go back to Greece and the first thing he had to do was go to her place. They would go out for a drink, he would tell her how much he had missed her and that only six months are left, he would suggest a road trip to the Highlands and then, on their way back home through the park, he would suddenly grab her and kiss her. She liked his kisses. She had told him so. But even if he couldn’t bring her round to his point of view, he would, at least, make her think. He would pull it off the second time.
One day before his flight, he started packing. He put in his underwear, his T–shirts, socks and shirts and there was some space left. Then, by sheer association, he realised he was leaving for Greece without a gift for Ria. He grabbed his keys and went out. He paced fast, looking for attractive shop windows. He didn’t want to buy her anything expensive or serious, but not a souvenir, either. He was after something funny and sweet that would show often he thinks of her, but without...
He just found it. As soon as he saw it, he realised it was perfect. Amidst the double–decker bus fridge magnets, miniatures of Big Ben and cockades with the names of Tube stations, a stuffed dog that moved its head and wore a bearskin cap looked at him like a puppy waiting to be adopted. He bought it. He put it into his suitcase, closed it and looked at the clock. Seventeen hours till his departure.
He lay in his bed, switched off the light and, after going again through the scene with Ria and himself discussing their reunion, he couldn’t but feel overjoyed – everything was sorted out. Yet, he had forgotten something important – to check the weather. While he was sleeping, snow had grown upon the damp soil of the night. When he would wake up the next morning, the only thing he would be able to see would be a white harvest that nobody could reap. Nothing daunted! He knew that the British, punctilious as usual, would have foreseen the snowfall and wouldn’t close down Heathrow or cancel so many flights.
He checked the airport’s website and it was with great joy that he confirmed that his flight would leave according to plan, albeit with a delay. He left his room and started walking towards the train station, carefully following a white, slippery path carved by the first explorers of the pavement.
Reaching Heathrow, a dark grey coating of fog blocked his view from the window. The snow sent shivers up and down his spine and became one with his blood, making him freeze at the thought that he might not be able to travel. When he finally saw the much–hated word ‘Cancelled’ on the departure board, he felt the snow melt and turn into tears. That just could not happen... It was unfair, simply unfair. The sun was shining warm just a few hours earlier.
Suddenly, he took heart, feeling stupid. Even if he didn’t fly on the same day, he would on the next one. Yet, Heathrow was closed for three days. London had never seen such snowfall. But still, even when the airport opened again, he couldn’t find a flight, as he had already redeemed his ticket, in hopes of returning to Greece through another country.
He celebrated New Year’s Eve all by himself, with his Chinese neighbour wishing him Hapy new year, meit in his pathetic spelling on Skype. Lying on the windowsill, his mobile phone was dead as a doornail, just like himself. Neither Ria nor his friends had sent him a single message. They must have been at a party, dancing and laughing, drinking and forgetting the absent ones.
Demosthenes was looking at his mobile, Ria was looking towards the door. She was waiting for it to open and see him storm into the room, taking everyone by surprise that he was in Greece at such short notice. But the mobile didn’t ring and the door didn’t open. Demosthenes threw himself on bed and Ria threw herself into the arms of a charming, young Latin dance teacher. She had had one too many, he wanted one more – it didn’t take them long to end up in his place, making love to the tune of a Spanish guitar.
While Demosthenes was plunging into sleep, the Latin dance teacher was plunging elsewhere. Ria saw a starry sky in her life, as the fog had all gathered at Demosthenes’s sky. He dipped his bitter heart into the sugar of his dreams, just like Ria, who dipped her lips into the dancer’s mouth. The next morning was a new year. It was a new life for Ria, but the same life for Demosthenes. He went out, wrapped up well, and walked in the park. Every now and then, he would turn back to see his footprints on the snow, which had begun to melt under the sun that was climbing over the buildings.
In Athens, Ria would wake up with a headache next to a stranger. Scanning her memories for the previous night, she remembered how she got there, in that place with the bright colours and the animal print rugs. She hastily got dressed, before the dancer woke up, and left, without looking back.
On her way home, she thought of Demosthenes. He was one of her first thoughts every morning. Was it the wrong decision? Could it be that she wasn’t patient enough? Did she have to call him? How about an email? But what could she tell him?
He didn’t have to tell her anything, either. He could see it – they just were not meant to be together. With all that snowfall on the day of his departure! After all, there could have been someone else if she asked him to break up. It would make sense. Such things do happen in long–distance relationships.
They didn’t know it, but they were walking together. Demosthenes was wading through the snow and Ria was walking under sour orange trees. They were walking together, but the pavement wasn’t wide enough for both of them. That’s why they were separated.
Demosthenes felt a drive, a motion, at his legs. To his surprise, he saw a fox terrier looking at him in the very same way Ria’s bearskin stuffed dog used to look at him.
“I’m sorry”, said the girl who approached him. She stooped, took the dog in her arms and was about to leave with a smile.
“What’s its name?” he asked. He wanted to know the dog’s name, but finally he learnt hers and her whereabouts and the colour she liked, and that she was afraid of the dark, and that she wanted to have three children. Eventually, she had two. With him. They were both boys, so that she would cry her heart out when she had to part with them.
That’s the way it always is. Life plays at being a card dealer but, since the cards are stacked, when you make your choice, it’s always the wrong one. When you realise it, though, when you fold and quit, then out of spite, you’ll get hold of a good card in the next deal. Something like a reward. The only thing you have to do is play it right...
THE END
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