Blue-Sky Home

Grandfather turned to Phoebe and winked. “Now you see the real Greece,” he said, pulling up to an ancient stone house.

A woman Grandfather’s age bustled toward them. Phoebe unfolded herself from the car and hung back uncertainly as Grandfather wrapped his enormous arms around the tiny lady.

“Vasiliki, this is my granddaughter, Phoebe,” Grandfather said. “Phoebe, meet my good friend Vasiliki.” Then he continued talking to Vasiliki in Greek.

He’s probably explaining that we’re heading to the village where he grew up, Phoebe thought. For about the thousandth time, she wished her father had taught her a little Greek. Just enough so that she could make some polite conversation and didn’t have to stand there like a lump.

When she had first arrived at the airport, her grandfather had been eager to show her the “real” Greece. “You need to see this,” he announced. “You are Greek. This is your country.”

“Well,” Phoebe had said that first day, “I’m only half Greek. Really, I’m American.”

“What is it, to be American?” Grandfather snorted. “No. You are Greek.” 

Phoebe didn’t want to tell Grandfather that Greece didn’t feel like her country. The sky was so blue it hurt her eyes, for one thing. The toilets had buttons instead of handles. And she could hardly even talk to people.

Now Vasiliki said something in Greek and blinked at Phoebe expectantly.

“I’m sorry,” Phoebe said to her. “I don’t speak Greek.”

Vasiliki turned to Grandfather, wide-eyed with horror. “She don’t speak Greek!”

Grandfather shrugged and made a clicking sound with his teeth.

“It’s OK,” Vasiliki said sympathetically. “I try to speak English with you.”

Grandfather gestured to the crumbling stone buildings that surrounded them. “Maybe we go for a walk later,” he told Phoebe. “You see the town. Is very old.”

Vasiliki said something in Greek, and Grandfather hooted with laughter.

Phoebe smiled hesitantly. “What?” she asked.

“Hee-hee!” Grandfather shook his head. “She say — “

Vasiliki finished for him. “If you go in, take a string. So you find your way out!”

“You know, they made these towns like a labyrinth,” Grandfather explained. “Because of the foreign pirates.”

“They could get into the town,” Vasiliki said, “but they couldn’t get out.” Her dark eyes gleamed playfully.

“Nai,” said Grandfather. Yes. His eyes grew thoughtful.

Phoebe wondered if he was thinking about the pirates. Ever since Phoebe had arrived in Greece, she had begun to realize that her grandfather didn’t really trust anyone who wasn’t Greek. She had never seen this side of him before, and it made her feel a little uneasy. 

“How is your father?” Vasiliki asked. “I don’t see him since he was baby. You have photo?”

Phoebe hesitated, then dug into her bag and pulled out a picture taken on her 12th birthday. “That’s my dad, on the left,” she said.

“Beautiful, beautiful!” Vasiliki said, squinting at the photo.

Grandfather leaned in to look at the picture. “Who is this?” he asked suspiciously. Phoebe didn’t have to look at the photo to know which person he was pointing to.

“That’s my best friend,” Phoebe replied. “Nadia.”

Vasiliki held the photo closer to her eyes. “What is she?” she asked.

For a moment, Phoebe wasn’t sure how to respond. She knew what Vasiliki meant: What is Nadia’s heritage? The answer was that Nadia’s parents were from Karachi, Pakistan. Phoebe could have just answered the question.

But Nadia wasn’t from Pakistan. She was from Teaneck, New Jersey.

“She’s American,” Phoebe said at last. “Like me.” 

Grandfather looked at her sharply, and Phoebe half expected him to tell her again that she was Greek, not American.

Grandfather tugged at his beard, then looked at the photo one more time. “Pretty girl,” he said finally. He looked back at Phoebe, and something in his eyes softened.

Phoebe exhaled. She hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath. The air here was sweet, like honey. My grandfather loves me, Phoebe realized. He loves me, and he wants to share being Greek with me.

And for the first time, the strange country, with its sky so blue it hurt to look at, started to feel a little more like home.