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Show 77 the tables. Straight ahead, nothing. Only the moon and a heavy brass rail to discourage the long fall to the sea below. Table by table the Greeks abandoned their conversation as the couple entered the square, watching without statement as they wove their muddy way toward the open sky. "It's here," said David softly, his stomach pressed to the rail. Several hundred yards below and a half kilometer out on the black sea lay the Oia. Dominating the night, lit up like a small city, it made David's breath come hard. He studied the unwavering reflection on the water and decided it wasn't moving, was anchored. He looked for other lights, smaller moving lights that would be launches shuttling passengers and freight back and forth to the big ship, but could see nothing. "Let's hurry," he said. Somewhere among the confused lights at the pier below there had to be one last boat waiting, to ferry out late passengers. He grabbed Darcy's hand. She jerked away from him, walked quickly on, toward the cathedral and the steps just beyond. David followed. In front of the church a bearded priest in black cassock and conical hat stood as though a shadow of himself. As Darcy and David passed before him he slowly inscribed a cross in the night air. David raised his fist but didn't shake it as he had thought to do. At the top of the steps the taxi driver lounged against the railing, talking with two of the young donkey drivers. Half a dozen donkeys stood by, idle and smelling, their long sad heads hung nearly to the ground. Any other time David would have already |
