The Last Nymph

The Uninvited

Doc contemplated his dinner engagement that afternoon and realized it had actually been months since he had spoken at length with anyone on the island. Except, of course, Maera—on those rare but recent occasions she had appeared to him. As the day slowly morphed into a long summer evening, the hot sun was mercifully reclining into the western sky. I would soon disappear behind the large, western island of Lefkada, bringing its usual gold and pink hues to both land and sea.

Orestes Roussos was always seen as a handsome specimen of a man, and now in his advanced years—late sixties, he was still of noble appearance. His graying temples and almost white beard—were he to let it grow out, would only add to his somewhat professorial countenance. This matter of facial hair, however, was somewhat of an obsession with him, as he had elected to not allow his graying beard ever to have free reign over his face. In deference to this, he engaged in a morning shave every other day, simply as a way to maintain some connection to his civilized life and habits from the onset of adulthood.

Deciding to make the most of the evening invitation to the Brits' exquisite schooner, Doc shaved and took his daily bath, pulling off the clothesline his favorite black golf shirt with the faded Pebble Beach emblem. The article had kept its charm with him as he had bought it as a souvenir many years before at a Philology conference at the iconic hotel and country club. For most of his days now, however, Doc lived and slept in simple t-shirts which he had collected over the years while still a jogger in the San Francisco Bay Area. These once colorful shirts each had a different venue and date on it of yet another 5K or 10K run he had participated in, organized by cities up and down the California coast.

Aside from this now useful collection, Doc had purchased before coming to the island, numerous pairs of expedition shorts with bomber pockets, and several pairs of Levi jeans. Rounding out his simple wardrobe were several cotton sweaters for winter and a heavy waterproof sailing jacket with a hood. As a man of practicality and thrift, he had always presented himself while a student and later professor in California, with that tidy but laidback attitude—a style so well-known as simply Westcoast culture.

As the sun began to disappear behind Lefkada's silhouette, Doc looked into his hand-held mirror just once. Before he ventured out to his new-found company he wanted to see exactly what the young and carefree group would see him as. Staring back curiously from the glass was a tanned face with surprisingly few wrinkles. A pair of gray-green eyes perused the onlooker, with a face that spoke of satisfaction with the life he had finally opted for.

Just before leaving for the cliffside, and his walk south to the schooner, he reached into his only cupboard in the makeshift kitchen. It was there he kept safe from the ants and rats, certain perishables brought over each month or fortnight from the town of Mytikas on the mainland. For there he had also stored the last three bottles of his favorite California wine—a white zinfandel, originally from a whole case. The bottles had lasted him over the past three years, celebrating only those special moments by himself. The building of his home, anniversaries, and a few miserable winters inside the stone turret when the pounding rain lasted over a week. It was Doc's impression that California wines could hold up to any French grape or vintner, and he more than expected to argue that point with his benefactors that evening when the wine was poured, and comparisons made.

Soon walking to the edge of the island from his castle abode, and then south along the forest trail, he eventually found himself looking down at the impressive wooden ship, gently rocking under anchor in the cove. As he approached the sea's edge, he called out and quickly received a friendly wave from one of the men onboard, sitting at the stern. Other members of the familiar crew were already lowering the dingy to the water to taxi their guest onboard.