One Summer in Crete - Nadia Marks Page 0,22

maximum, about the same time as the previous moonrises.

‘The entire phase of the “blood moon” eclipse will take less than two hours,’ Christian explained, ‘but the whole celestial event will last for many more.’

‘More than four, actually,’ Sylvie added, handing Calli an ice-cold beer. ‘But that doesn’t mean we go home after it ends – no way! We’ll party till dawn!’

‘Bruce over there,’ Christian gestured with his chin, ‘is taking care of the music. We’ve each chosen one song we like. I’m sure it’s not too late to put in your request.’

The longest total lunar eclipse of the twenty-first century proved to be every bit as magnificent, magical and as awe-inducing as had been promised. At first the moon rising from the sea was no more spectacular than the other two ascents Calli had witnessed on the island, but as the upward journey progressed, so did its audience’s excitement and anticipation. As the hour grew late, Maya leaned close and whispered into Calli’s ear.

‘When the eclipse begins, you must enter into the sea and make your wish.’

‘What? Why? What wish?’ she stammered, confusion evident on her face.

‘The wish you want to make, you know . . . the one that always brings the tears to your eyes,’ she replied. ‘You must walk into the water facing the east,’ Maya instructed mysteriously, ‘and ask Raphael to grant you your wish. But be specific. Don’t be vague. Ask for exactly that which you desire, and he will hear you.’

Calli, once again thrown by Maya’s words, said nothing. Her head was swimming with unfamiliar thoughts, as it had done earlier at Icarus’s rock. She sat silent and motionless, gazing at the constellations in the night sky for a long while. Then, as the earth’s shadow slowly began to pass over the moon, masking and transforming it into a dark crimson globe, Maya’s words suddenly became clear. She scrambled to her feet, stripped off her shorts and T-shirt and ran towards the water.

She stood for a moment in the shallow surf, looking up at the ‘blood moon’, then slowly started to walk into the sea, murmuring words almost like prayer. The evening breeze blew through her hair and caressed her arms which were raised to the sky. She stretched them higher and felt weightless: the wind seemed to pull her up effortlessly by her extended arms towards the moon; the deeper into the sea she waded, the more the sensation of being lifted increased, until she was floating above the water as if she had grown wings.

‘Please, Raphael,’ she whispered and looked down at a silvery beam of light illuminating the sea. ‘Please, Raphael,’ she repeated into the hot night air and closed her eyes, ‘by the power of this moon send a good man to love me and a baby in my womb.’

8

When she reopened her eyes, Calli was lying in her wet bikini on a blanket on the beach. She had no idea how much time had lapsed. She turned to prop herself on one elbow and watched her companions joyfully singing and dancing to the dulcet sounds of Carlos Santana’s ‘Black Magic Woman’.

‘Calli! Calli! Come!’ she heard Maya call as she ran towards her. ‘It’s time to dance,’ she cried and seized her arms to pull her to her feet.

By now the moon had once again resumed its normal silver glow and was hovering above them, illuminating the beach like an enormous spotlight. Calli held on to Maya’s hand to steady herself and then, lightheaded and elated, joined the dancing crowd.

‘They must be singing about you!’ she called over the music to Maya, laughing, and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. They danced barefoot on the warm sand through the night, song after song, Greek, English, French, Italian, melody after melody, voices and laughter mingled together, drifting into the night air; once in a while one or two dancers would break away and run into the sea for a refreshing dip before returning to the party. As if they were a single organism not separate individuals, the company stayed on the beach until the faint light of day started to break. Only then did some people begin departing; many stayed on the shore for their early morning yoga.

‘My bed is calling me,’ Calli yawned, bending down to pick up her flip-flops and discarded clothes.

‘What! No yoga?’ Sylvie teased, giving her a playful nudge.

Later, by the time Calli walked down to the beach bar for her morning coffee, the hour was well

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