stayed, carefully picking up the patched-up sail and tying it firmly to the boom. He then set out to pick up some of the rope scattered on deck. He grabbed the ends and ravelled them up, just as his father had taught him, thus preventing them from getting tangled between the feet during crossings. Just as he was finishing up, he heard his father calling him from the beach.
“Almices, come. Run!”
The boy stood up and saw that his father was halfway to the house, bent over what looked like bales by the shore. He had put the baskets aside and waved one arm vigorously for him to hurry. Almices left the last line half rolled up and ran barefoot towards the beach. As he approached his father, the bales on the ground looked more human-like. When he reached them, they turned out to be two men soaked and covered in sand, with half their bodies still in the water.
“Come on, son. Help me get them out of the water.”
His father tried to turn one of the men over to stop him from swallowing more water.
“Father, he weighs too much," Almices complained as he tried to get the other one out. He must have been as heavy as the old village inn keeper with the old belly, Almices thought.
“Don't worry, son. I’ll take him out.”
He left the first man, the slimmer and slightly taller one, lying on the dry sand, then grabbed the arm of the second man. The father and his son used all the strength they could muster, and after several attempts they managed to get him out of the water as well.
Almices looked both surprised and worried at the two castaways, while his father examined them carefully and laid them on their sides to cough up the swallowed water. Their garments were very different from his own. They wore bright purple tunics, torn by the coast. And while they did not look Greek, Almices could not identify where they came from, although he had not met many foreigners in the village either.
“Go call your mother to give me a hand, then take your sisters to the boat to finish collecting the nets and mending them. In the meantime, your mother and I will dry them and take them home, then come to find you for dinner. Also ask her to bring some water and dry clothes.”
Hermes pressed his son with his hand and Almices obeyed running toward the house.
Almices pushed hard on the open door and ran into the house.
“Hi, mother!” he exclaimed with a gasp as he looked for her.
“Hello, son, what’s happened? Why are you so out of breath?”
Sitting next to the window, she peeled onions in her lap for the meal. Her face, wildly marked by smallpox and a difficult childhood, revealed surprise at her son's hasty arrival.
“Happy birthday!” Janira, Almices' little sister, who was only four years old, exclaimed, holding on tightly to his waist as she jumped up and down to kiss his face.
“Thank you," her brother replied caressing her hair. “Mother, we found two men half drowned on the beach and father says you need to go with water and dry clothes,” he answered his mother, still tired from rushing home as he smiled at his little sister.
“I’ll go right away. Look after your little sister, the other two have gone to the cave to play.” The onions fell to the ground as she hurriedly got up. There was no way they could have a peaceful home, the woman moaned to herself; something always came up that disturbed them.
“I’ll pick them up for you," Almices offered. “Father said that we should repair the nets and that you’ll come looking for us, so I’ll take Janira to get them and repair them in the cave.” His mother nodded as she grabbed a water bottle and some dry shirts.
The three of them left the house at the same time. The mother headed to the beach while Almices took a little detour with his sister, so that she would not see the castaways. Their mother recommended this so that Janira would not get frightened at the sight of potentially injured men in terrible condition.
The two siblings walked alongside the tamarinds that lined the beach holding hands. Janira wanted to go with her mother to see what all the fuss was about. She fought hard to break free from her brother's hand, he almost had to drag her to the boat. He won after bribing her with a game as soon as they found their sisters. Upon arriving at the jetty, he looked at the beach and found that the castaways were already conscious and seated, while their parents dried them. He also saw in the distance the unmistakable silhouette of his neighbour Andreas disappearing alongside the tamarinds. He was a strange man, he thought. He did not associate himself with anyone in the village. He had only seen him speak with his father once, beside that it was menial greetings and small talk about the weather.
The cave was located just across from the cove in the west. Access to the cave was easy despite the fact that the entrance to the cave was hidden from view by a curious bend in the rocks. In fact, many of the inhabitants of the village did not even remember its existence. It consisted of a small cavity in the rocky wall, that continued to go into the sea. There was only one chamber, wide enough for a dozen people to lie down, however the entrance was huge and did not protect the interior from adverse weather conditions, so it had never been inhabited as a house and had become the Theopoulos children’s favourite place.
Janira and Almices entered the cave with one of the nets. Their sisters Telma and Nerisa were there, sitting in a corner sorting the shells they collected early on as they walked along the beach. Telma's chestnut curls fell in front of her bright honey-coloured eyes. Her father knew she was going to be a good wife. She was fourteen years old and almost ready to leave his house and marry a fisherman from the village. Her slim body, her correct manners, her basic knowledge of Greek writing was all just as good as Almices’. That was a topic that his father considered of vital importance. He had never had the opportunity to learn. He made Almices teach his sister everything he had learned from the village elder, even though their mother thought writing utterly useless. All this made her a good candidate for the best young men in the village. Hermes had even spoken to a few families behind the backs of his wife and eldest daughter.
Nerisa was nine years old, one year younger than Almices, she was mischievous and energetic. Their mother believed that Zeus got her wrong, that she should have been a man. All the finesse and delicacy of her older sister were missing from her. She may have a girl’s body with swirling hair, but her arms and legs were full of scratches from jumping, playing, and chasing cats or butterflies. Her restless honey-coloured eyes, similar to those of her older sister, reflected the vividness of her movements.
“Hello, Nerisa. Hi Telma. Don't you get bored playing the same thing all the time?” Almices asked them, looking at the shells.
“We are separating the razor shells, clams and cowries that we collected from the beach this morning,” Nerisa replied, smiling.
“Look Janira, we have found two starfish and also a giant snail,” Telma interrupted. She stood up and grabbed her little sister's hand to show her their findings. “Look, this broken shell looks like the birth mark we have on our legs.” Janira crouched to check the similarity of the shell to the birth mark that characterized the four siblings. She smiled at the resemblance and, without giving it more importance, sat down to play with the shells.
“Father has said that we have to mend this net before we eat,” Almices emphasized with authority as he took it out of the bale that he carried on his back.
“Let them play. We can mend it without them.” Telma stood up, inspecting the net with expert eyes. “Have you brought everything you need?”
