Before leaving please bookmark this page for there is no link for the public to get here. I have purposely not made it available to the public with links to the work since I am presently editing it for submission to a publisher very shortly. What you are reading is copyrighted and a copy resides in the Library Of Congress.
(note from the author-read the synopsis and you will see these are extracts from the book . (c) 2000 by George J. Beimers all rights reserved)
"Do we go all the way with this newly arrived man? He matches description of what we were to find here at this time. Of course I realize we must test him, but that's the fun of this assignment." -Thally
Unfinished business is the most frustrating. Every time Jake looked at his video camera equipment, Ginger's face and familiar dimples would appear in his mind. He was unable to play their tapes of her songs, since he viewed her performance on stage at the Singaporean Golden Million. This was the last time he saw either Ginger or Lisa. All who had investigated their disappearance agreed the girls fit the profile. The profile being one in which there was zero chance of finding them alive.
Seeing them on tape opened the old wounds. He wasn't ready for that. Maybe someday, but not now. If he never used his video camera and recording equipment again, it would not matter to him. Leaving Asia was difficult for there was a hole in his heart that wouldn't close. Madam Wu and her genetic experiments with all those kidnapped female subjects must be put behind him. His love and loss of Ginger plagued him still and could not be easily forgotten. It was hard to acknowledge that Ginger was dead. A part of him would always hold out the hope that somewhere somehow the loveable Chinese girl had alluded the scurrilous Sosan Wu, the infamous Dragon Lady. Would the wound of Ginger's loss ever heal?
"Take our blessings with you, Jacob," said Moksha, his ashram friend at their final dinner. "Go, and god speed. Change is what life is. Never forget your purpose. Our world is a verb not a noun. Your purpose is the same as all containing human spirit, to create miracles. That is what we are all about! This is not the end but the beginning. We are not through, you and I."
***
Greek island fifteen years later...
The bus made its careful way slowly up the winding mountain road. Its motor groaned, swinging around the switchbacks as it climbed its zigzag path. The rocky road, set into the actual face of the high cliff, looked dangerous, but to the driver was merely tiresome. The wall of this escarpment plunged in long sweeps to cobalt blue of sea below. Sheerness of drop, both awesome and appealing, made view even more breathtaking.
With horn a safety forewarning, the bus trilled a tattoo of sound, echoing around each curve. "Bleep, bleep, bleep, bleeeeeeep," the air-horn blasted in its monotonous contralto. The sounds were of a gigantic lost lamb crazed without its mother, climbing frantically with more than a dozen treacherous curves still ahead before the bizarre beast reaches the peak. Easiest on stomach was peeking out front windows, watching curves straighten and flow into the next. If one did use the windows facing out away from walls, it was better to look at Aegean Sea on the horizon than the cobalt blue water directly below, especially with lack of guard-rails, wheels occasion-ally kicked loose rocks over the edge.
A middle-aged man in Stetson hat and blue scarf stood swaying and bending to see out a window and could only see down. The docks and harbor became smaller and smaller. People walking about looked as busy little ants. Sitting next to him, his creamy-haired female friend had missed getting a seat but bent to see and appreciated the magnificent azure blue sea flowing outward to the horizon.
Topping the edges of the cliff above the harbor were a cluster of dove-white buildings sporting white or blue domes. The blues matched the sea below. This appeared to be the first stop for the slowly climbing vehicle. To the newcomer, these first sights of a rather special island cut off from the rest of the world registered as otherworldly. Such pristine beauty remains in memory forever. Santorini was like that.
Fifty-six people squeezed into a space designed for thirty-six and riding the bus to the top of this mountainous cliff. As jagged thistles of wild Greek weeds along the dry dusty road, the driver's rough, unshaved face matched his brazenly determined driving. He bulldozed his bus successfully up incline and into village. His skill, in maneuvering that oversized vehicle on undersized roads and around hairpin curves, was gained over hundreds of similar trips. The supposedly safe road, perched thousands of feet above the blue Mediterranean, started as a donkey trail. Some swore it still was. Passengers lurched from side to side nervously and bumped among the potholes while loose rock fell occasionally starting landslides.
"All this time in getting here and we're going to die on the road to the hotel!" complained a honey-colored blonde, to her just met American friend. She watched the shamelessly careless driver in wide-eyed terror. Tires crunched rocks, sending them flying. "Besides, I have to pee."
"He's done this trip a thousand times. Don't worry," reassured the cowboy, remembering the times she had said the P word, she must have the smallest bladder of anyone alive. "We'll get to the top without going over the side." Smells of perspiration from the closely packed sweaty bodies gave additional sensual proof. After fifteen years, he was once again in a foreign environment.
"Too bad we couldn't find a comfortable seat. I hate this standing and swaying," she responded, clutching a seatback. Everybody chose a summer on a Greek isle for their vacation.
The village peering over those first cliffs was Thera (Thira) on the island of Santorini. Their stop was short and even more people climbed aboard. Thera slowly faded from sight behind them, and along this stretch of more or less flat road, donkeys plodded their slow and steady gait. They were piled high with sacks of wool or sponges, going to destinations known only to a Greek islander. White houses with domed and elongated alabaster roofs perched on hillsides beside the road as breasts of sea gulls floating in early morning winds high above. Squares of bright blue stood out in stark contrast to the chalk white of the walls and marked the places of shuttered windows.
"Picture post-card scenes no matter which way you look. Santorini is one lovely island, most beautiful I've ever seen!" observed the man, watching breathtaking landscapes pass by the window.
Jake Vander Delft bought a new gray Stetson especially for this trip. He had been a recluse for too long. From Singapore he retreated to his Arizona desert with a determination to put away the past. Those painful days in Asia were never talked about. It appeared so implausible and absurd, after he got back to the honest open spaces of the Southwest.
It took time to become sociable again. It was easier to ask the Johnstones to allow him to bunk in with the other two ranch-hands and help around the place his first month back. The market was still good for beef and once a week they rounded up enough head to fill two or three trailers and the eighteen-wheelers took them north where they were processed and shipped by refrigerator car to California. The other hands rode quarter horses, but appaloosas were fun to work with and train. He had named his Starlight.
Time passed and the words of Moksha played over and over in his thinking. Little snatches of his conversations percolated upward into Vander Delft's consciousness at the most unusual times. Moksha taught him a different way of looking at his world. Their paths might cross again one day. Hadn't he said, "We are not through, you and I." He still felt Moksha's presence when the other was thinking of him. He wondered if Hathor-jen still gave her great massages, remembering their time together.
Time passed and once again Jake opened his heart and mind to others. He even filled up his refrigerator and went back to living in his own condo. More and more he accepted invitations for tennis dates and other social events. Then the dates became evening dinners out and the occasional party. It was Gary who pushed his friend into attending his first single's party given by a neighbor of his. Then it became a monthly affair under the auspices of a group of singles composed mostly of people in the professions. Each month it would be held at a different member's home. Membership lists and newsletters kept everyone informed. It was a far better method of mixing single people together than bar hopping. Vander Delft was readily accepted into their midst. There were always more females than males, and he was a most eligible middle-aged male! The members took turns opening their homes, townhouses, and apartments for a party. It was a godsend for those who worried about the strange cloud hanging over dating in the 1990's. It could be rather deadly and hazardous to one's health!
With thoughts of his Chinese lover still fresh in his mind, even after many months, Jake was vulnerable. He found it hard to get close. After his latest tennis partner finally got his serious attention only to announce she was marrying a freshly divorced real estate millionaire, he decided a vacation away from the desert was in order. This time it would be the Mediterranean area and not Asia he would travel and enjoy for five or six weeks. He voyaged with but one suitcase, a well-worn pair of boots, and his new Stetson. Most days the scarf was optional. His new acquaintance cringed at such an outfit. "Too ostentatious!" were her exact words and feelings. They had just met on the overnight ferry, and he realized very shortly that she was a blonde with an attitude problem. There were good arguments supporting bachelorhood.
Remembering his last trip to Europe, one suitcase became his rule, traveling light his passion. Anything which couldn't be packed in one case could be bought in route. A change of pants, shirt, underwear, and socks should suffice.
On the Santorini bus, the out of place hat caught the eye of all Greeks locals. People found the man incongruous and amusing.
Bus driver gave one more long blast on his horn. It celebrated his successful completion of the trip. He made it to the southern end of this island after rounding that final turn. Tottering and top-heavy, the carrier entered the village leaning more left than right from its over-load of roof luggage and a broken spring. Local custom dictated sounding a horn at blind corners. It was also extended to all approaching vehicles, hikers, and dumb animals. Consequently, the passenger's eardrums remained abuzz and ringing even after the motor stopped.
"Kamareee!!!!!" the heavy whiskered driver shouted in a disinterested tone of voice. His additional words in Greek reminded all to retrieve their own luggage from behind the bus. It would be thrown down from the top.
"Would you look at that beach!" cried the excited Westerner, stepping out of the doorway. It's covered with the blackest sand I've seen since Hawaii! Hey now, this is great!"
"Use the ladder on the back!" said the shamelessly uncaring driver, meaning passengers were to get their own luggage.
This announcement was lost in the noise of everyone energetically scrambling to be first out and first to the back. Once there, all looked helplessly upward toward their bags. They were out of reach. Each Greek island bus contained a driver and his young helper. No driver would take money from a passenger. It was his helper's job to walk through aisles collecting the $1.50 worth of drachma fare. Since the aisle was already occupied with twenty standing passengers, it was nothing short of courageous for the young lad to make his way to back while collecting.
It was also duty of young helper to retrieve passenger's luggage. The same baby-faced boy, who collected their money, now climbed the iron ladder and from the top, energetically tossed bags and backpacks to expectant faces below. Some were too heavy and bowled the surprised person to the ground. No one volunteered to climb the ladder halfway and help. Vander Delft saw the problem and naturally climbed upon the iron rungs.
Backpacks, crates, canvas bags, and suitcases quickly passed down the line of grunting, sweating tourists to their rightful owners, impatient and standing in the morning sun anxiously waiting. From this vantagepoint, Jake got his first good view of the island village, and it was all he hoped it would be.
As the shore of a black lava beach looked good to the Stetson hatted man, he looked good to a twosome lying on their stomachs along water's edge. When the luggage passed through his hands and down the back of the bus, they noted his enthusiasm. The Piraeus ferryboat bus never brought such a visitor before and this pair was impressed. Not only was his presence appreciated by two female figures, it was applauded. For some moments they lay on their front side, stretched the length of their beach towel, chin in hand, and absorbed in their careful inspection. Then they looked at each other. Their eyes told the story of the celebration quietly taking place in their minds. They knew this was the one! Pollo told them before they left what the oracle at Delphi predicted. "Helicon will know a stranger by his cover."
So the two girls watching the Stetson-hatted man, knew the time had come. Their plan must be set in motion. Perched on the bus ladder, helping hand down the luggage, the man was exactly what they were sent to find.
"We must see to this one, Era," said the eager female, sharp gray-green eyes flashing in anticipation. "Just remember, until we are sure about him, a closed mouth gathers no feet."
The beauty of the speaker's face was too perfect for this world. The casual observer might mistake her for a magazine model or a vacationing beauty queen. Her eyebrows were as light-colored as her hair and her light blonde hair was extremely long. It rose as if a fountain. She captured and enclosed it with a golden tie allowing it fell in a cascade of shimmering lights. Her neck was also regal in its length, allowing light blonde hair to spread as a fan upon her shoulders. Some curled and nestled in furls across the crevices formed by shoulder blades along her backbone.
The line of the beauty's spine swept back in a curve, suddenly rising around two perfect buns, topping her long shapely legs. Nose was petit, and below lay lips, and delicate mouth, inviting as a mother's kiss. High cheekbones left small hollows below, containing light-colored creamy smooth skin. Boasting not a single line showing age, her face radiated energy appearing to draw strength from sun itself with a glow from within. She wore the look of a goddess from a time of some distant past.
"He carries himself well. I believe we've found our man, Thally. We were to get a strange one from a western land. No one can be stranger than this one. We've found him! He's got to be the man!" shouted her companion. Her voice gave away her excitement. She wet her lips in anticipation.
This speaker was darker than her friend was but with no less allure. In fact her darker hair and skin lent a dash of mystery to her over all looks. Well-shaped eyebrows arched over alert and dancing brown eyes. They were round and inviting, divided by a strong pert nose and nostrils that flared with excitement when she caught her breath and laughed. Her teeth were even and white. They flashed whenever she opened her mouth. She too lay flat on her stomach. Her browned calves flowed into long well shaped legs. They bent upward wiggling innocently in the cool breeze floating in from the sea.
"Quiet, Era! Listen to you! If I don't watch you I expect that next you'll be brazenly jumping up and down and waving banners. There will be time enough to welcome him the first time he comes down the beach. Where is he going to go? This is a small beach after all, one of the few on the island! Besides, you are still in your bathing outfit! When he gets down here, we'll strip them off and see how much of a man he actually is!" offered the blonde beauty.
The dark-haired one wiggled her shoulders provocatively. "I never knew anyone able to resisted me, yet. Usually, I drive these lusty minded humans out of their pitifully small minds. We'll soon see what kind of appetite cultivated by this man with the big hat. Men are such knaves when they aspire and slaves when they desire," rhymed the dark-haired poet called Era, "and I love it when I'm afire and gentled by a courtly sire!"
"Sometimes I wonder why I trouble myself bringing you along, sister Era. You must remember where you are and show a little circumcised judgement! Don't let it all hang out at once. If you want a little skin in the bargain, don't frighten our prospect all the way back to his country, please! Try not to forget our purpose here, or we shall never complete our task. It is not the same as it was when you last were here. Many changes occurred among these worldly people since our time."
"You and your quip-lash sarcasm. Can I help it if that strong, somewhat good-looking fellow already started my juice flowing? After all Thally, we've waited long enough for this one! So I get excited! That's what I do best!" answered Era, her voice turning husky, full of anticipation.
"Listen, eager Era, this is not akin to fishing. We don't get to keep him or anything like that! He's not getting mounted and then stuffed to stand in your trophy-room or over your bed. Nothing like that, you hear!" warned the fair-skinned woman.
"You mean after we are through with him we've got to release, letting him go his way? Shades of Zeus, what a spoilsport you are, Thally. Catch and release... do you think that's fair?"
Thally paused for a moment watching their prey make for a restaurant on other side of the street. Then she continued their dialogue. "Well sister, after all, he is only mortal. Mortals pass through this time line in their present form but once. Don't get so excited. His time with us is fast approaching. We will encounter him shortly, never doubt that. I know what must be done. The rest will be but frosting on the cake, all fun and games. As far as dithering or diddling, don't you fret, sister of mine. I never let a men I didn't like, even as Artemis never met a man she didn't spite!"
They brought their hands together in a pushing playful gesture as both said, "We bring 'em back alive and some even survive. Yes, we do that don't we!"
Flopping back down on their beach towel, Thally then added, "We will make it happen in our usual fashion. When he sees us here on the beach, he'll know we are two females worth wading for."
"It's about time we get some action," replied the mouth, pursing her rosebud lips. She wrinkled her nose, made a face, and then said in her lower more husky voice, "I was getting bored back in Talamon!" Patting the area directly below her neatly flattened stomach, added, "Don't worry little pussy cat, mommy's going to feed you soon!" The dark-haired girl then got to her knees and flopped alongside Thally on the towel.
"You are as restless as an itchy duck that can't get his down up," laughed the blonde.
"You know what I always say.... The difference between an ooooh and an aaaah is about four inches. Changing the subject for a moment, do our sisters know what we are up to?" inquired Era, too excited to remain flat and once more sitting up and posturing.
"No, they would only get jealous and mess things up. I saw what they are capable of doing when there is a good plan afoot!" replied Thally, with a shake of her head. "We'll tell all soon enough. First, we've got to get Mr. Big Hat to Mt. Helicon! The secret of success is sincerity. After we learn to fake that with him, we've got it made. "
The golden tie let go, and Thally's hair tumbled down, folding around her face as a golden frame. Gray-green eyes looked off down the street. Big Hat walked with a female companion. They watched the two newcomers make their way to a beachfront hotel. For some moments Thally was deep within her own thoughts. When she noticed her hair blowing over one eye, she came back to the present and said to her companion, "Promise not to scare him off before we net him. He does possess an important task ahead. Our job is to make him ready. It will take time and not be easy. Gaining his confidence is simple. As always, we'll use sex!"
The blowing hair bothered the light-skinned woman. She fashioned it into a new hair-do while sitting on her mat. This was done by pulling her long blonde hair aside, separating a thick strand, wrapping it around the rest, tightening it all securely, and tucking in the ends. Then it was coiled and secured on top with an intricately designed tie clasp. It gave her a completely different look, sitting as a crown on her head. The results were beautiful to observe.
The pair quietly sat upon the sands of a Kamari beach. Waters of the blue Mediterranean lapped at their feet. It was plain these two were not the usual summer visitors. They both wore the looks of Greek Goddesses from man's ancient mythology.
Era was worried enough to say, "I suspect no matter what we do, we will bring down the ire of our father, that crusty old thunderbuster. You may think you are more clever than he, but if I know the Fates, we better play this one close to our breasts, chests, vestments, whatever fits this situation..."
"Leave father to me," answered Thally, brushing sand off the towel kicked up when her sister flopped down. "I know enough never to give father an inch or he takes the whole ruler."
"I know father!" continued the dark-haired female. "He can get aroused by anything that is different from his ideas. Either he gets his way or one feels the storm of his displeasure. He can be quite merciless as his own father was to him. How normal can one be who knows his own father castrated his grandfather! Our father possesses such a temper; look what he did to our stepbrother...crippled him forever... his own son! Such temper in haste could be used against us daughters in many nasty ways, by Aphrodite's hot crotch!" lamented Era.
"Don't be caught using her name so lightly, little sister! Making oaths by enlisting the names of deities is a risky business," Thally admonished rather sharply, gray-green eyes suddenly flashing. "They do hold a way of knowing what is going on no matter where it happens. Bad vibrations and all that!"
"I think even the wind is recruited as a spy," Era replied. "So, is it decided? Do we go all the way with this newly arrived man? He matches description of what we were to find here at this time. Of course I realize we must test him, but that's the fun of this assignment," Era made sure they understood each other.
"We go all the way! This one looks worth the trouble. This means we check his possibilities before this very day ends," the other girl replied, her fingers reached for a small bag of soft fruit lying beside her. She patted it in a knowing fashion.
Era knew the special properties of such fruit and smiled at the thought. She also appreciated the way her sister dressed her hair. She proceeded to gather her own long hair and pulled it into position. Then she too, wrapped some around rest, piled it high, tightened it, and securely tucked in the ends. Now they both looked as ancient Greek goddesses. They were naturals.
"You know why I'm not wearing my beautiful short shorts," commented Thally.
"You paid too dearly for them and don't want to fade them in the sun?"
"Actually, the problem with tight shorts is not their original cost but their upcreep!"
"Arrrrrggg! You should be arrested for pun-handling on a public beach."
"What can I say? The pun is here to slay," laughed the blonde pun-tificator.
*****
Jake stepped away from the bus and looked up and down the street. What he saw was a narrow street bordering fifty yards of black lava sand. A wide expanse of beach continued perhaps half a mile to right. Then it all ended at a series of rocks and cliffs. These cliffs were severe horizontal walls stretching high and becoming small mountain tabletops.
"Beautiful!" he said, to his friend from the ferry as they walked away from the bus. Her name was Drina. He marveled at those sheer slopes stretched high into pale blue sky.
They found a table with shade. It was covered with a red and white checkered cloth. From its location there was a good view of beach across the way. In one direction a single main road came to an end within half a mile. In the other, it continued out of sight. "No problem finding a hotel room. Everything is within easy walking distance," the blonde girl observed. "Good thing, since I doubt they enjoy a taxi in this place?"
Already it was mid-morning, and the beach sprouted umbrellas as well as scores of people. Being a topless beach to satisfy males, it was also a bottom-less beach for a few who had courage and good bodies. Reported to be the best this side of Majorca, some were separated from their bathing attire already, which pleased eyes of all males present.
"These women look very... ah, healthy," noted the Stetson man finding the right word. "I'm in the mood for swimming after sailing all night on the ferry and the stuffy ride in that excuse for a bus." He reached again for his beer and finished it.
Drina, the blonde, looked out of sorts, tired and still thirsty as well. "Thanks for the cold drink, Mr. Vander Delft. I think I'll look for a room right away. What about you? Looks as though you want to go down on the beach immediately," she joked.
"I love these little cafe places." He paused, taking another drink from his bottle. "Look down the street. You can see little restaurants all the way, each with outside tables. Must be loads of tourist-watchers here, same as in Paris or Rome. These Greeks know how to live. They are quite civilized even here on the small islands."
"Nice of you to notice," Drina replied. "They've been practicing for a couple thousand years, so probably got it right by now! Of course the topless beach across the street helps in keeping them coming back!" She fanned herself with a napkin. "I should talk. Been coming here for years!"
"I'll walk down the way with you. There aren't a lot of choices for hotels. They all look third class so that one ahead of us looks as good as any." He up-ended his Lowenbrau finishing it. "Let's move out, little pilgrim," he quoted, playfully imitating the voice of John Wayne and grabbing their bags.
Drina left the table and followed. While walking, Jake continued watching the vacationers carrying their towels and baskets holding food or drink. Some few were making their way down toward the water. The village of Kamari came to life in front of his eyes. He was eager to discover the Santorini of the travel posters. The man saw a movie called Summer Lovers and got the romantic idea of seeing the glorious spot where the film was actually made.
"Are you going to wear that stupid hat on the beach too? What is it with cowboys? Must they always look like they are Marlboro men or something? I hope I get to see you on the beach today. You should cut a striking figure in a skimpy bathing suit along with your hat!" laughed the young woman walking at his side.
"So it pleases my sense of the absurd. Besides, how could I retain my good standing as a redneck? As for the beach, maybe I could put it on a pole and make it into a beach umbrella. It's one of the best hats in the world!" he protested in his own defense. "However, I think you're right. The next time you see me I'll be uncovered and I hope the next time I see you it will be the same!"
When she registered at the hotel she noted they had rooms on the same floor. Little did she know that it would make no difference what so ever. Their relationship was doomed. You can click here and go forward to the next chapter of the book called: "Gift From The Gods".
CLICK here and go back to the synopsis to see where you are in the plot.
CLICK here and go back to the homepage called page 1.