The Other Side of Midnight (36 page)

Early the following morning Larry went down to the village. He asked Catherine to join him, but she demurred, telling him that she was going to sleep late. The moment he left, Catherine got out of bed, hurriedly dressed and went over to the hotel gymnasium which she had investigated the day before. The instructress, a Greek Amazon, told her to strip, then examined her body critically.

“You have been lazy, lazy,” she scolded Catherine. “That was a good body. If you are willing to work hard,
Theou thellondos
—God willing—it can be good again.”

“I’m willing,” said Catherine. “Let’s see how God shapes up.”

Under the tutelage of the Amazon Catherine worked out every day, going through the agonies of body-contouring massage, a Spartan diet and grueling exercises. She kept all this from Larry, but by the end of the fourth day the change in her was noticeable enough for him to comment on it.

“This place really agrees with you,” he said. “You look like a different girl.”

“I am a different girl,” Catherine replied, suddenly shy.

On Sunday morning Catherine went to church. She had never seen a Greek Orthodox mass. In a village as small as Ioannina she had expected to find a little country church, but to her surprise she walked into a large, richly decorated church with beautiful elaborate
carvings on the walls and ceiling and a marble floor. In front of the altar were a dozen enormous silver candelabras, and around the room were frescoes of Biblical paintings. The priest was thin and swarthy with a black beard. He wore an elaborate gold and red robe and a tall black hat, and he stood on what looked to Catherine like a sedan chair on a raised platform.

Along the wall were individual wooden benches and next to them a row of wooden chairs. The men sat in the front of the church and the women in the rear.
I guess the men get to Heaven first
, Catherine thought.

A chanting began in Greek, and the priest stepped down from the platform and moved to the altar. A red curtain parted and behind it was a lavishly robed, white-bearded patriarch. On a table in front of him stood a symbolical jeweled hat and a gold cross. The old man lit three candles tied together, representing, Catherine supposed, the Holy Trinity, and handed them to the priest.

The mass lasted for one hour, and Catherine sat there savoring the sights and sounds and thinking about how lucky she was and she bowed her head and gave a prayer of gratitude.

The next morning Catherine and Larry were having breakfast on their bungalow terrace that overlooked the lake. It was a perfect day. The sun was shining down, and a lazy breeze was coming off the water. A pleasant young waiter had brought the food. Catherine was wearing a negligee and when the waiter came in, Larry had put his arms around Catherine and kissed her on the neck. “What a great night,” Larry murmured.

The waiter had stifled a smile and discreetly retreated. Catherine had been a little embarrassed. It was unlike Larry to be affectionate in front of strangers. He really has changed, Catherine thought. It seemed that every time a maid or bellboy came into the room, Larry would put his arm around Catherine and show his affection, as though he wanted the whole world to
know how much he loved her. Catherine found it very touching.

“I have a great morning planned for us,” Larry said. He pointed to the east, where they could see a giant peak towering into the sky. “We’re going to climb Mount Tzoumerka.”

“I have a rule,” Catherine declared. “I never climb anything I can’t spell.”

“Come on, they say there’s a fantastic view from up there.”

Catherine saw that Larry was serious. She looked up at the mountain again. It looked as though it went straight up. “Climbing’s not what I do best, darling,” she said.

“It’s an easy hike. Paths all the way up.” He hesitated. “If you don’t want to go with me, I can go alone.” There was sharp disappointment in his voice.

It would be so simple to say no, so simple to just sit here and enjoy the day. The temptation was almost overpowering. But Larry wanted her with him. That was enough for Catherine.

“OK. I’ll see if I can find an alpine hat,” she said.

A look of such relief came over Larry’s face that Catherine was glad she had decided to go. Besides it might be interesting.

She had never climbed a mountain before.

They drove to a meadow at the edge of the village where the mountain trail began and parked the car. There was a small food stand at the side of the road, and Larry bought some sandwiches, fruit, candy bars and a large thermos of coffee.

“If it’s nice up there,” he told the proprietor, “my bride and I may want to spend the night.” He gave Catherine a hug, and the proprietor grinned.

Catherine and Larry walked up to the beginning of the trail. There were really two trails, branching off in opposite directions. Catherine admitted to herself that
it looked like an easy climb. The paths seemed wide and not too steep. When she turned her head to gaze at the top of the mountain, it seemed grim and forbidding, but then they would not be going that high. They would climb a little way up and have a picnic.

“This way,” Larry said, and he led Catherine toward the path going to the left. As they started to climb, the Greek proprietor watched them with concern. Should he run after them and tell them they had taken the wrong path? The one they were on was dangerous, for expert climbers only. At that moment some customers came up to the stand and the proprietor put the two Americans out of his mind.

The sun was hot, but as they climbed higher, the breezes grew cooler, and Catherine thought that the combination of the two was delicious. It was a beautiful day and she was with the man she loved. From time to time Catherine glanced down and was amazed at how high they had already climbed. The air seemed to be getting thinner, and breathing was becoming more difficult. She had been walking behind Larry, for the path was now too narrow to permit them to walk side by side. She wondered when they were going to stop and have their picnic.

Larry became aware that Catherine was straggling behind and he stopped to wait for her.

“Sorry,” Catherine gasped. “The altitude is beginning to get to me a little.” She looked down. “It’s going to take a long time to get down.”

“No, it won’t,” Larry replied. He turned and started up the narrow path again. Catherine looked after him, sighed and doggedly started up the trail.

“I should have married a chess player,” she called after him. Larry made no response.

He had come to a sudden, sharp turn in the path, and in front of him was a small wooden bridge with a single rope for a handhold that had been built across a deep gorge. The bridge was swaying in the wind and did not look secure enough to carry the weight of a
man. Larry put one foot on a rotting wooden plank of the bridge and it started to sink with his weight, then held. He looked down. The gorge was about one thousand feet below. Larry started across, carefully testing each step, and heard Catherine’s voice, “Larry!”

He turned. She had reached the foot of the bridge.

“We’re not going to cross on
that
, are we?” Catherine asked. “That wouldn’t hold a
cat!”

“We are unless you can fly.”

“But it doesn’t look safe.”

“People cross it every day.” Larry turned and started moving across it again, leaving Catherine standing at the foot of the bridge.

Catherine stepped on the bridge, and it began to vibrate. She looked down at the deep gorge, and fear began to fill her. This was no longer fun; it was dangerous. Catherine looked ahead and saw that Larry had almost reached the other side. She gritted her teeth, grabbed the rope and started walking across, the bridge swaying with every step. On the other side Larry had turned to watch her. Catherine was moving slowly, keeping one hand tightly on the rope, trying not to look down at the abyss below. Larry could see the fear written on her face. When Catherine reached Larry’s side, she was shivering, either from terror or from the chill wind that was beginning to sweep across the snow-capped mountain tops.

Catherine said, “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a mountain climber. Could we go back now, darling?”

Larry looked at her in surprise. “We haven’t even seen the view yet, Cathy.”

“I’ve seen enough to last me a lifetime.”

He put his arms on hers. “Tell you what,” he smiled, “up ahead is a nice quiet place for our picnic. We’ll stop there. How’s that?”

Catherine nodded reluctantly. “All right.”

“That’s my girl.”

Larry gave her a brief smile, then turned and started up the path again, Catherine following behind him.
Catherine had to admit that the view of the village and the valley far below was breathtaking, a peaceful idyllic scene out of a Currier & Ives postcard. She was really glad that she had come. It had been a long time since she had seen Larry so exuberant. He seemed to be possessed by a sense of excitement that kept growing as they climbed higher. His face was flushed, and he chattered on about trivia as though he had to keep talking to release some of his nervous energy. Everything seemed to excite him: the climb, the view, the flowers along the path. Each thing seemed to take on an extraordinary importance as though his senses had somehow been stimulated beyond normal. He was climbing effortlessly, not even out of breath, while the increasingly rarefied air was making Catherine pant.

Her legs were beginning to feel like lead. Her breath was coming in labored gasps now. She had no idea how long they had been climbing, but when she looked down, the village was a tiny miniature far below. It seemed to Catherine that the path was getting steeper and narrower. It wound along the edge of a precipice and Catherine hugged the side of the mountain as closely as she could. Larry had said that it was an easy climb.
For a mountain goat
, Catherine thought. The trail was almost nonexistent, and there was no sign that anyone else had used it. The flowers had thinned out and the only vegetation was moss and a strange-looking, brownish weed that seemed to be growing out of the stones. Catherine was not sure how much longer she could keep climbing. As they rounded a sharp turn, the path suddenly dropped away and a dizzying abyss appeared below her feet.

“Larry!” It was a scream.

He was at Catherine’s side instantly. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back, guiding her over the rocks to where the path resumed. Catherine’s heart was pounding wildly.
I must be crazy
, she thought.
I’m too old to go on safari
. The altitude and the exertion had made her dizzy and her head was swimming. She turned to
speak to Larry, and above him around the next turn, she saw the top of the mountain. They had arrived.

Catherine lay there on the flat ground getting her strength back, feeling the cool breeze teasing at her hair. The terror had subsided. There was nothing more to fear now. Larry had said the way down was easy. Larry sat down beside her.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes.” Her heart had stopped pounding and she was beginning to breathe normally again. She took a deep breath and smiled up at him.

“The hard part’s finished, isn’t it?” Catherine asked.

Larry looked at her a long moment. Then he said, “Yes. It’s finished, Cathy.”

Catherine raised herself up on one elbow. A wooden observation platform had been set up on the small plateau. There was an old railing around the edge, from which there was a spectacular view of the dizzying panorama below. A dozen feet away Catherine could see the path leading down the other side of the mountain.

“Oh, Larry, it
is
beautiful,” Catherine said. “I feel like Magellan.” She smiled at him, but Larry was looking away and Catherine realized that he wasn’t listening to her. He seemed preoccupied—
tense
, as though he were worried about something. Catherine glanced up and said, “Look!” A fluffy white cloud was drifting toward them, pushed along by the brisk mountain breezes. “It’s coming this way. I’ve never stood in the clouds before. It must be like being in Heaven.”

Larry watched as Catherine scrambled to her feet and moved toward the edge of the cliff to the rickety wooden railing. Larry leaned forward on his elbows, suddenly thoughtful, watching the cloud as it moved toward Catherine. It had almost reached her, was starting to envelop her.

“I’m going to stand in it,” she called, “and let it go right through me!”

An instant later Catherine was lost in the swirling gray mist.

Quietly, Larry rose to his feet. He stood there a moment, stock still, then began to move silently toward her. In seconds he was immersed in the fog. He stopped, not sure exactly where she was. Then ahead of him he heard her voice calling, “Oh, Larry, this is wonderful! Come and join me.” He started moving slowly forward toward the sound of her voice, muffled by the cloud. “It’s like a soft rain,” she cried. “Can you feel it?” Her voice was closer now, only a few feet ahead of him. He took another step forward, his hands outstretched, groping for her.

“Larry! Where are you?”

He could make out her figure now, wraithlike in the mist, just in front of him at the very edge of the cliff. His hands reached out toward her and at that moment the cloud blew past them, and she turned and they were facing each other, no more than three feet apart.

She took a step back in surprise, so that her right foot was at the very edge of the cliff. “Oh! You startled me,” she exclaimed.

Larry took another step toward her, smiling reassuringly, and he reached out for her with his two hands, and at that moment a loud voice said, “For Chrissakes, we got bigger mountains than this in Denver!”

Larry swung around in shock, his face white. A group of tourists led by a Greek guide emerged from the far path around the other face of the mountain. The guide stopped as he saw Catherine and Larry.

“Good morning,” he said in surprise. “You must have climbed the east slope.”

“Yes,” Larry said tightly.

The guide shook his head. “They’re crazy. They should have told you that that is the dangerous way. The other slope is much easier.”