A Midsummer Night's Swing
Nicholas Zaharakos, a short story writer and columnist within Wall Street Greek's Fine Arts team, cooks up O'Henry-style New York tales, flavored with a unique ethnic spice. He tells a mix of original stories that address social issues, and poignant family tales with universal themes.
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Pandora and Aristotle
Pandora Alepou was the kind of woman who could make Telly Savalas feel like he had a pompadour. Some would say that she was a foxy temptress. Those that knew her better would say that she was downright evil forbidden fruit. Pandora would wear on the street what other women would wear to bed - when they wanted to be extra naughty.
On this sultry twilight in August, Pandora was slinking down Columbus Avenue. Her Victoria's Secret intimates had her bubbling over the short blue iridescent shift she was wearing. She was a cat on the prowl. Her hunting ground was the "Midsummer's Night Swing," dance soiree held in the plaza at Lincoln Center. She was out to have a hot time on a hot summer night. It hadn't rained in weeks, although heavy showers had been forecast for the past three days. Heads turned as the thin dress moistly clung to each contour of her body.
On the wide boulevard the upscale outdoor cafes were jammed with boisterous New Yorker's drinking iced concoctions to fend off the humidity. Pandora was about to cross the street when a sparkle caught the corner of her eye.
Pandora's first impression was of fireflies glowing against the darkening day. She quickly went over to the little stand by the curbside. Suspended by lanyards were hand crafted silver earrings. Each pair was unique with exquisite miniature Tiffany Lamp like designs. She was so captivated by their beauty that she didn't notice the slight man seated in a folding chair that was selling them. When he offered to help her, she had another shock to her senses - for he was a hunchback.
The man offered for her closer inspection his handiwork with cupped hands. Pandora thought that these must be the long veined hands that Rodin would have been proud to sculpt. Pandora with innate malevolence wiggled and jiggled in order to get a rise out of him. Only his innocent brown eyes met her hard green ones. Pandora shrugged and selected a pair of globe earrings that brilliantly reflected the light from the lamppost through its scarlet, lavender, and citron plastic resin.
Pandora didn't put her purchase into her Betty Boop disco bag. Instead, next to the diamond studs that she had promoted from a married real estate executive, she put her newly found treasure into those earlobe pierced openings that had anticipated a birthday present from a stock trader.
The night air was heavy with the electricity that only a turquoise tuxedoed Salsa band could bring to a crowd ready to beat the heat with the hottest swinging on both sides of the equator. This was definitely not amateur night. Pandora was licking her lips with delight as she flashed her season pass and received the bright orange wristband that indicated that she was a paid-up member of the inner circle. Men's eyes rolled over her with unspoken desire that she would be their dance partner, solely, and more as the night went on. Pandora sashayed to the center of the floor. For the opening number she wanted to dance alone, to radiate as the center of attention.
Just as the musicians started to play the first note the heavens opened up. Thunder and lightening instead of music filled the air. It was the most sudden of summer storms, something that you could expect to happen in the country rather than in the city. There must have been a mischievous angel at work here. A hubris seeking bucketful of rain hit Pandora squarely. It knocked her flat to the ground. The band and crowd ran to the shelter of the glass lobbied concert and opera halls that enclosed the open plaza. When Pandora managed to get up she could feel that her dress was completely soiled, two dark stains outlined her buttocks.
Pandora, all alone now, sneezing and shivering, realized that instead of a knockout Marilyn Monroe she must have looked more like a drowned Minnie the Mouse. Cursing, Pandora just slithered away into the night.
Disappointment prevailed as couples started to leave. Some took off their shoes to splash in the puddles as they went off in search of other entertainment, a movie perhaps.
A sole heart was throbbing with unequivocal joy. In the dark recesses of the building overhang of Avery Fisher Hall, Aristotle Panayiotis stood with his wares. He breathed in the air now cleansed to sweetness by the falling rain. He mused about his garden and how the flowers would welcome Heaven's blessing. Each raindrop would be a caress. It would be a wonderful night to work on some more earrings or to paint or to read while the rain pattered against the windows, he reflected.
Aristotle had just given a homeless man ten dollars for a decent meal out of appreciation that he had a small but comfortable apartment to go to in Brooklyn later on. "Arie, how can we worship a homeless man on a Sunday, and then ignore them the rest of the week," his father taught him.
The first thing Aristotle would have to do when he got home was to rescue his pet Scottish terrier from underneath his bed. The storm would have frightened Achilles half to death. "Arie, we have to take care of the poor creatures that can't take care of themselves," his mother would always say.
To be sure, sometime in this good night Aristotle would gaze lovingly at the portrait he had done of his mother and father. He would also ponder the framed page from a Webster's dictionary next to that painting. Two definitions one right after another, both from the Greek, and both he had enlarged. He had discovered them a long time ago on one of the many days that he had stayed home from grade school to escape the taunts of the other children. That was the day he started to understand his place in the universe.
- Kyphosis: abnormal backward curvature of the spine.
- Kyrie eleison: a short liturgical prayer that begins with or consists of the words "Lord, have mercy."
To be sure, later in this blessed night Heaven would hear this humble man praise and thank God with thunder in his heart and lightening in his soul for his parents and the beautiful life that they had given him.
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