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HARRY'S EARLY YEARS:
POSSIBILITIES
by Melissa Jones
England, 1969
The 17-year-old sat on the edge of his bed, his ebony hair falling over his deep blue eyes. He fondled the sailor’s cap that had been give to him by a Greek smuggler he had meet a few days earlier. His mind coursed between the images of wild, romantic adventures at sea and the unsettling task of telling his friend and mentor that he would be leaving soon.Harry tossed the cap into the half-filled duffle bag next to him on the bed. He thought of all the things that had happened to him in the past three yeras. Harry was amazed at how much he had learned from Daniel, in every area imaginable - from picking locks to seducing women. The latter being the most pleasurable lesson, Harry thought, smiling.
But it was time to move on. He couldn’t explain it, but something inside was pulling him away, just as it had all his life. He still had that need to keep moving, keep looking for what would finally fulfill him, what would finally bring him home, what would make a home. The identity of the ‘something’ had eluded him as much as the need itself. Still, it was out there, and he had to find it.
Harry sighed heavily. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He knew what he had to do, and he only had a few hours before he had to leave. He had to tell Daniel goodbye.
For the first time in his life, he actually cared enough about someone to keep from departing without a word. He would never leave Daniel without a goodbye.
Determined but uneasy, Harry rose from his bed and headed downstairs to the living room, where he knew Daniel would be having his nightcap.
Harry approached the doorway to the plush living room cautiously. He watched the dark-haired man for a moment, aching. Daniel was the closest thing to a father that Harry had ever known.
There were times where Harry imaged Daniel was his father, but he knew it was just a foolish dream. Harry had no idea where his real father was, and he didn’t care. As a child, his relatives had told him of the cruel man that had abandoned his wife and unborn child. The last thing Harry needed in his life was someone like that.
Harry knocked timidly on the door frame. Daniel looked up at him and smiled, and Harry cleared his throat nervously.
“Daniel? Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked, standing almost forlornly in the doorway.
“Yes, of course, Harry my boy. Come in,” Daniel replied brightly, motioning him into the room. Harry sat gingerly on the Victorian leather chair opposite Daniel. He rubbed his hands together and sighed nervously as he stared at the floor.
“Are you alright, Harry?” Daniel asked with concern, placing his brandy sifter on the round table next to him.
“Daniel,” Harry began, struggling to find the right words. “I want you to know how much I enjoyed our last trek across Europe, and how much I’ve enjoyed living here. It’s truly been wonderful, really. I mean, if it weren’t for you being here the past three years, I’d still be on the street, scraping for a quid.”
“Well, it’s been my pleasure, Harry. You know you’re like the son I never had,” Daniel returned in forced cheerfulness, sensing the unpleasant news he was about to receive.
"Which makes this all the more difficult," Harry replied.
"What is it, Harry?" Daniel asked, concerned.
"Daniel ... you promised me three years ago that you would never hold me here; that I could leave at any time. I'd love to stay here forever, but, well, I can't. It's time. I have to leave, Daniel." There. He'd said it. Harry waited uneasily for Daniel's response.
"I see," Daniel said. He picked up his sifter and took a gulp before setting it back down. "Well, this is a bit sudden. I hope ... I hope it's not because I've done something to offend you or make you feel trapped."
"No, no, not at all. It's just, well, I can't explain it, really. It's just that ... there's a whole world out there full of new experiences and adventures, and I want to find them. I want to know more, and do more. I need to find something," Harry struggled to explain.
"What?" Daniel asked. Harry sighed.
"Me," he finally replied. Daniel looked even more confused. "Look, I mean, I know it sounds crazy. It's crazy to me, too. But there's something more out there for me, and as much as I'd love to stay, I know I'm not going to find whatever it is here. I have to go out into the world. On my own. Do you understand?" Harry asked hopefully. Daniel smiled sadly.
"Yes, Harry. I do. It's alright. You're right. You should go. It's time you made it on your own," Daniel responded. Harry smiled with relief. His smile dissolved as he noticed the faraway look in Daniel's eyes as he stared into the fire.
"Do you know where you'll be going from here?" Daniel asked, slowly refocusing on Harry.
"Greece," Harry replied. "Remember the sailor we met in the bar on Mykynos? The smuggler who wanted to buy a tanker?"
"Marcos ... something," Daniel acknowledge, nodding as he picked up his drink again.
"Yeah, Marcos Androkus. I'm going to try to get on with him. It'll be a new experience. Who knows, maybe I'll learn something useful along the way. I'll learn some great stories, like all sailors do." He smiled.
"Smuggling? Quite a rough trade, Harry. Are you sure you know what you're getting into?" Daniel questioned worriedly.
"Positive. I've always dreamed of life on the open seas, visiting exotic ports ... seducing women worldwide," Harry finished with a devilish grin, his blue eyes sparkling merrily. Daniel laughed heartily.
"That's my boy," he joked. Harry joined in with his laughter.
"Besides," Harry continued as their laughter died down, "think of all those scores out there waiting to be found. I'm certainly not going to forget what you've taught me. I plan to take every advantage given to me."
"Just promise me you'll remember the most important lesson. The fine line between mischief for the good of someone or something and an act of pure evil. Don't ever cross that line, Harry. It's almost impossible to step back over it," Daniel warned.
"I know, Daniel, and I promise, I'll remember that. Have I ever let you down before?"
Daniel smiled. "Never," he replied.
"I will be helping someone out. Marcos needs to save up for a tanker. I'm sure a few of our tricks can help his profits a bit further, right?"
"Sounds reasonable," Daniel nodded, taking a sip of brandy. "So, when do you plan to leave?"
"Tomorrow morning. There's a boat leaving for Greece tomorrow afternoon. I thought I'd hop the freight train to Sussex, and make my way to the Channel to catch the boat. I'll either stow or work for my trip, whichever is necessary. Once I hit Greece, I'll find my way to Marcos from there."
"Tomorrow ... that soon," Daniel muttered regretfully. He forced himself to be cheerful as he looked at Harry. "Well, you know you can always come back here whenever you need to. And I expect a phone call or letter at least once in a while."
"I know, Daniel. I promise, I'll keep in touch," Harry replied quietly. "Well, I'd better be off to my room. I've got a bit more packing to do, and I have to get up early. I'll probably leave before you wake up," Harry said, rising. Daniel sat his drink down and rose as well.
"Well, good luck, my boy," Daniel said, holding out his hand. Harry grasped it strongly. He chuckled and pulled Daniel into an affectionate embrace, patting him loudly on the back. They pulled apart, and Harry looked at Daniel, trying not to see the sadness in his eyes, and trying not to display his own.
"Take care, mate," he said. He turned and moved toward the doorway, but stopped and turned momentarily. "Oh, and by the way, I, uh, I'm glad you taught me everything ... that you ..." Harry struggled with the words that he just couldn't form.
"You're welcome," Daniel replied, understanding what Harry was trying to say. Harry smiled gratefully before bounding up the stairs, leaving Daniel standing in the silence of the empty room.
Harry gave one last, long look around his bedroom. A part of him cursed himself for being stupid enough to leave this place, but the adventurer in him won that argument. There was too much that he wanted to do. He wasn't ready to settle into a comfortable existence. Not yet.
Harry sighed heavily as he grabbed his duffle bag and crept out of the room. He glanced down the hall to the closed door of Daniel's bedroom. Harry wanted to see Daniel one more time, but he knew if he woke him for a last goodbye, he wouldn't want to leave.
Harry tore his eyes from the door and stole quietly down the stairs. Daniel would still be asleep, and he didn't want to disturb him.
Harry stood at the front door and glanced around once more before exiting the house. The cab he had called several minutes earlier was waiting at the end of the circular driveway. Excitement bubbled in him. Finally, his adventures were underway.
Daniel watched from his bedroom window as Harry made his way to the cab and got in. The knot in his throat grew as he watched the cab pull away. Even though he knew Harry would keep his word and stay in touch, Daniel couldn't hold back the torturous thought that had bombarded him his entire sleepless night.
I've lost my son ... again.
Greece, One Year Later
"Ay, Xenos, whatsa matter with you, huh? Come, join in!" The pudgy man bellowed in a thick Greek accent. He clapped Harry on the back with his left hand as he held a pitcher of wine in his right. "Come, dance!" The man grinned broadly, displaying the polished gold on his right incisor.
"I'm afraid my traditional Greek dancing isn't what it should be, Marcos," Harry shouted back, trying to be heard over the loud music and conversations taking place in the warehouse.
"Well, have you had enough to eat? Maybe you can't dance on those skinny legs, huh?" Marcos returned. Harry blushed slightly, but chose to ignore the comment.
"I'm full, Marcos. Really," he replied, patting his stomach for emphasis.
"Ah, then you're not drunk enough!" Marcos teased, moving to fill the glass Harry was holding.
"No, Marcos, really, I think I've had enough." Indeed, Harry was feeling a bit tipsy from four previous glasses of wine that Marcos had insisted on, not to mention the excitement of the evening.
"Ah-h-h," Marcos growled his dismissal. "Lighten up, Xenos. This is a celebration!" He reached for Harry's glass, and Harry watched reluctantly as Marcos filled it. "Tonight, Xenos, we are peasants." He handed the glass back to Harry. "But tomorrow, eh? Tomorrow, we are tycoons, eh?" He laughed heartily.
"It's nearly six a.m., Marcos. It is tomorrow," Harry corrected cynically, a grin escaping him. Marcos beamed.
"Ah! To tomorrow, which is today!" Marcos shouted, raising the pitcher toward Harry.
"Tomorrow-today, and your bloody new tanker," Harry returned. Marcos laughed again as he clinked Harry's glass with the pitcher and downed the remainder of the wine from the pitcher. Harry watched with amusement as two tiny streams of red poured down either side of Marcos' mouth as he drank. Bloody insane, Harry thought, drinking from his glass.
Marcos had his faults. He was easily excitable and worked his crew like dogs, but he was a hell of a smuggler, and the most determined bugger Harry had ever known.
Marcos had worked since he was twelve to be able to buy his own tanker, and he had finally made the purchase that morning. He'd returned to the docks that afternoon dancing, and had ordered the crew to prepare the warehouse for the biggest celebration Greece had ever seen. Marcos had promised that the celebration would last all night, so everyone could see his tanker arrive at dawn the next day.
He was true to his word. The celebration was ten hours old now, and as lively as it had been the first hour. Of all the places he'd visited in the world, Harry had to admit, no one could throw a party like the Greeks could. Especially Marcos and the whole Androkus clan.
"Hey, hey, HEY!" Marcos shouted, lowering the empty pitcher and wiping the wine from his face with his hand as he looked out a window. The music and chattering ceased as everyone turned their attentions to their host. "The sun is rising! It is almost time for my beautiful lady to arrive! Come, we go to the pier to wait for her, eh? Come, everyone! Follow me!" Marcos reached up and took Harry by the shoulder. "You, too, Xenos. My best worker, my biggest profit-maker. You will be beside me when she arrives, eh?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Marcos," Harry replied, smiling. "After working like a dog under your constant bullying to buy this bloody tanker, I wouldn't miss seeing it for anything."
Marcos laughed wildly. "Except for a beautiful woman, eh, Xenos?" Marcos teased. He clapped Harry loudly on the back and led the group out of the warehouse and down toward the pier. They all stood together, squinting in the sunrise as they studied the calm seas.
"Here she comes!" Marcos yelled to the crowd behind him, pointing to the horizon, and the gray mass gliding toward them. Harry watched in awe as the massive tanker came within two miles of the pier. Marcos definitely had great taste in ships. The tanker was truly majestic, compared to the rat-trap they had been sailing on for the past year.
"Fantastic, Marcos," Harry whispered. Marcos smiled at him proudly. "Truly fantas ..." A loud explosion kept him from finishing his sentence. As the crowd watched, the ship rocked back and forth, as if it had been slapped by a giant hand. Smoke began billowing out of the top of the tanker, and a large cloud poured out of the hole that had been formed in the side from the explosion.
The crowd watched, dumbstruck, as the tanker floundered, and rapidly began sinking. The skeleton crew tried desperately to abandon ship, but the sea was overtaking the ship too fast. Many jumped as the waters washed over the deck of the vessel. As the crowd on the pier watched, the Aegean claimed the tanker and pulled it into its depths.
The process seemed instantaneous, but had taken several minutes. The people on the pier watched in silence and shock, disbelieving what was before their very eyes. There was no sound now, just the splashing of the water below them and the whistle of the sea breezes past their ears.
Harry stood, staring at the whirlpool where the ship used to be. All he could think of was Marcos. He'll be devastated. He'll never survive this. It will break him. It will ...
Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone snickering. His fury built exponentionally. Who had the gall to laugh at this tragedy? Harry turned toward the laughter, his fists clenched, preparing to silence the inconsiderate bugger. His fury turned to shock when he realized that the laughter was coming from the person right next to him. It was Marcos.
Marcos' snickering turned into a full-blown laughter. His laughter bellowed out in great echoes. Harry stared at him as tears began forming in the corners of Marcos' eyes, and his merriment grew. Harry's fury built again. Marcos really was insane.
"Marcos, what the hell is the matter with you?" Harry asked, his voice quivering with anger. He couldn't be heard over Marcos' guffawing.
"Marcos. Marcos! Why are you laughing? Why are you laughing?" Harry screamed, jerking Marcos by the arm until he focused on Harry. His laughter ceased momentarily.
"Because, Xenos," he answered cheerfully. "Because, from now on, everything is new again, eh? Just think of the possibilities. Think of the possibilities!"
Harry stared at him, digesting his words. "Possibilities?" he asked, forcing himself to speak.
"Of course, Xenos. When all is new, there are endless possibilities. You know this, Xenos. Did you not think of the possibilities when you came to me last year?"
"Yes, of course," Harry admitted reluctantly. "But, this is ... different!"
"No, Xenos, it is all the same! Now, I can get a better one, or a different one!" Marcos replied, laughing again.
"But . . . but that tanker was your dream!" Harry yelled.
"Yes, and I saw it, and it is gone, like all dreams. All dreams fade with the morning, Xenos. You see? The morning is here," Marcos said, pointing to the sun, which now hung over the horizon. "It is gone, and now I'll find a new dream, eh? We'll figure out a new dream, eh, Xenos?" Marcos laughed. He turned to the crowd.
"Well, my friends, we should go back now. There's plenty of food and wine left. Let's go finish it, eh? Come!" Marcos pushed his way through the confused crowd and headed for the warehouse.
Some watched as the crew of the tanker was rescued and brought ashore by some helpful fishermen. Others stared in bewilderment as Marcos retreated to the warehouse.
After a few moments, the crowd followed Marcos, daring to chatter amongst themselves.
Harry stayed behind, staring out at the sea, which was now as smooth as it had been before the tanker had arrived. He stared out at the empty horizon, trying to make sense of the morning, and Marcos' reaction.
His words confused Harry greatly, yet somehow made perfect sense. The possibilities were endless now. There was so much he still wanted to do, so much he wanted to see. And that mysterious something was still calling to him.
Harry sighed heavily. He knew one thing for certain. It was time to move on. Somewhere completely different. Someplace even more adventurous. Harry had to figure out his own dream.
He racked his mind for the most exotic, wild place he had visited in the past year on Marcos' vessel. A grin came to his face.
Rio.
He'd go to South America. There had to be something to do there. Something . . .