Read Diary of a Human Target (Book Two) - The Path Towards the Inside Page 21


  * * * *

  Thursday, 21st August 1997

  The time is 6:00 in the afternoon and I am leaving home, aiming to meet Persephone at the corner of the streets Gennimata and Athanatou. After lots of negotiations (although she is quite wealthy, my friend complained a lot about the price of the trip), we have arranged to go on an organized tour to Parga. The group leaves the day after tomorrow, therefore Persa and I must go to the travel agency in Athens today, so as to pay off the trip.

  Having just walked past the corner of Meteoron street, I go down Gennimata avenue full of excitement. I can already discern my friend waiting for me in the distance. All of a sudden, a motorbike passes right beside me, as fast as lightning, and its skinny driver grabs the bag off my shoulder! The youngster -he looks quite familiar- turns his head back, he smiles to me ironically and disappears speeding along the avenue! He even defies a police car which happens to be parked a little further. It takes me a few seconds to realize what has just happened; at first, it thought it was just a joke!

  As soon as I realize the situation, I return home in a frantic condition: I have lost not only my beautiful English bag, but 65,000 drachmas as well! Once again, outside the block of flats opposite my house, five or six bums are ululating continuously, going around in circles on their motorbikes. “Has anyone just left here on a motorbike?” I ask loudly, pointing at the trumps with my finger. Nobody knows, nobody noticed. Not even my parents who are sitting in the veranda, or aunts Hermione and Penelope who have come to visit them. Yet, the more I think about it, the more certain I am the thief is one of the bums on the motorcycles. I don't hesitate to shout loudly “My bag has been stolen and the thief is one of them!”; nobody answers me but the motorbikes go away one by one, until none is left. They are never going to be seen in the neighbourhood again. Never ever...

  Right after, I go and meet Persa, who is still waiting at the junction of the streets Gennimata and Athanatou. I explain to her what has happened, she is dumbfounded but she claims not to have seen any youngster on a motorcycle passing by her with a woman's bag in hand. For a moment I wonder because I'm sure the guy drove past her, but I can't say anything; she probably wasn't observant enough.

  Finally, the two of us go to the police and inform them about the robbery. I am faced with the absolute indifference and incapability of the policemen who, while on duty, wear slippers and casual clothes. The sergeant is dressed in a fine suit, he has black glasses on and he is all airs and graces. There is nowhere a computer but there is a television in every room, so that the minions of the law don't lose their favourite serials.

  Anyway, the incident mentioned above won't discourage me from going to Parga. On the contrary, I dig my heels in and decide not to allow any misfortune deprive me of the joy of travelling – even if this means I will have to pay double the price of the trip...

  Sunday, 24th August 1997

  It was late in the afternoon when we finally arrived at our hotel, which is situated on a green slope in the amphitheatrically built village of Lichnos. It is outside the picturesque town of Parga and it has a panoramic view to a blue-green bay. The beach is hardly fifty metres away from the hotel, while the swimming pool is right outside our room. I can say this is the finest hotel I've ever been to.

  Later in the evening, Persa and I relished a long walk in the enchanting town. Undoubtedly, Persephone is the most balanced of all my other friends and I do enjoy her company. I think we'll have a nice time together.

  Monday, 26th August 1997

  In the morning we went on a boat ride along the river Acheron which, in ancient times, was supposed to be one of the five rivers of Hades. As soon as we disembarked on the river bank, our tour guide vanished into thin air together with some Italian tourists. Persephone and I, as well as some others from our group, walked around the fields for a while but it proved to be impossible for us to find the ancient Necromancy Temple. Finally, the guide and the Italians appeared again as soon as we returned to the boat. We hardly saw where they had come from. On the way back, some people dived into the emerald waters of Aphrodite's Cave. Why didn't I dive too?

  In the afternoon Persa and I went for a walk in Parga and we visited the relatively well-preserved castle which overlooks the town. We walked along its stone paths, we enjoyed the view from its arched windows, we experienced the nostalgic atmosphere of a lost world. Later, we spent some time at the beach of Lichnos. I swam for an hour or so, while my friend stayed out of the water, reading a book. Persephone never gets into the sea because she doesn't dare show her 140 kilos in a bathing suit. When I got out of the water, we started talking and at a moment I commented on a charming and well-trained young guy who was in the company of a very fat, middle-aged woman. “She certainly pays him!” I assumed.

  That was a blunder of mine. Persephone frowned at once, although she tried hard to conceal it: “We must accept ourselves as it is. For instance, I will always be obese no matter what I do and this is never gonna change! However, it is personality that counts most in a human being, not external appearance!” she told me with an air of profundity. I could do nothing but agree with her.

  In the evening we went for a nice walk along the promenade of Parga. At a moment Persa stopped by a telephone booth and made two or three phone calls; I stood a little farther and waited for a few minutes, no problem. We walked around for a while and when night fell we sat at a nice cafeteria near the castle, which has a wondrous view of the gulf and the green islet with the chapel. The environment was fascinating, so was the young waiter: handsome, muscular and friendly, he suddenly left his post and sat at our table! He treated us to fruit punch and entered into conversation with us at once; nevertheless, it didn't take me long to realize I was methodically excluded from the discussion, as the young man soon began to ignore me completely and dally with Persa! As time passed, he seemed to be more and more enchanted by my friend's personality, while I was like non-existent. In other words: A gorgeous young man, no older than 22, suddenly fell in love with Persephone (1.55 m tall, 140 kilos) and for her he forgot all about work, customers and boss!

  The two of them bantered cheerfully for more than an hour, pretending I was not present. There were some satanic coincidences too: I was astonished to listen that the young lady killer lives in Glyfada during the winter, hardly 100 metres away from Persa's house! Finally, they exchanged telephone numbers and promises for a future meeting. As about me, I was shrunk in my chair embarrassed, confused, speechless, with a dominant feeling of humiliation.

  When we left the cafeteria at last, my head was spinning. I couldn't think clearly, while I was feeling awful. Next to me, Persephone strutted in triumph:

  “Am I not very lucky? Think about it, the guy lives in Gortynias street, not at all far from my house! I will certainly call him!”

  “He could as well live in Athonos street, right next to you!” I replied, as my mind was already starting to work differently, despite my splitting headache.

  Tuesday, 27th August 1997

  This morning we went on a day trip to the islands of Paxi and Antipaxi. White sand, clear turquoise waters, exotic strands, picturesque green hills all around. Yet, Persa had a hard time: She neither swam in the azure sea of Antipaxi (she just sat at a seaside bar, while I was swimming and relishing the wonderful landscape), nor went for a walk in the town of Paxi (she only waited for me in the restaurant, while I was exploring the place).

  On the way back, I found a shady corner in the ferry boat but Persephone insisted on standing alone under the hot sun all those hours, so she was roasted like a sausage and then she grumbled till late at night:

  “That was exactly what I wanted to avoid, the sand, the sun, the hardship!”

  That served her right! When someone is miserable by nature, no clique, no network can give them the joy they are incapable of feeling...

  Wednesday, 28th August 1997

  This is our last morning in the hotel and I am spending it in the swimming pool ‒ the perfec
t antidote to the heat of the summer. As usual, Persephone is waiting for me outside and she is green with jealousy! Yeah, sweet revenge!

  By the time I arrive home late in the evening, I have finally cleared out my thoughts and reached astonishing conclusions: Networks act right before my eyes! Yet, to whom can I say this and be believed? If such things happen to you all the time and you have no idea about the existence of networks, you just go crazy!

  Undoubtedly, those were the most revealing holidays of my life, as everything seems to be very clear now: Persephone was personally insulted when I said that a fat woman can't normally have an affair with a young and handsome man unless she pays him, so she decided to give me a lesson. A few phone calls, contact with the network, and the performance was put up, quickly and easily! Certainly, the young waiter in that cafeteria in Parga was a member of the “family!”

  As about the theft of my bag at the given place and time, it was no coincidence at all! The robber knew exactly when I was coming out with 65,000 drachmas in my bag, so he appeared out of nowhere and robbed me, just a few steps away from my house! As about the money, it was surely received by Persa! That's why neither she nor the policemen noticed the bum who drove past then on his motorbike, with a woman's bag in hand! Besides, why didn't the robber turn into another street before reaching the perilous spot where the police car was? Of course! Persephone is such a miser, she would never give 65,000 drachmas for a five-day trip! The funniest thing is I considered her to be the most balanced of all my friends! Yet, she has proved to be very dangerous...

  From now on, I had better be a lot more careful: I should conceal not only my ideas but my moves as well. It is imperative to tell lies to everybody, since I can never know who belongs where! As about Persephone, I won't be meeting her so often from now on and I will be telling her tons of lies. The less she knows about me, the better it is.

  Networks are excellently organized nowadays and each one of them consists of thousands or, even, millions of people all over the world! In all probability, every citizen who belongs to the middle class or higher, is a member of some network. What ''middle class''? In the so-called civilized societies, the really poor are a minority! Maybe it is natural for human beings to form networks or cliques, so that wealth and power always remain within certain circles of people. Networks have existed since antiquity. Once they included only the elite, but nowadays they have spread even to lower social classes. Families who don't belong to a network or clique, are gradually driven out of society and they don't survive for long.

  As about all those “dance schools”, “clubs”, “gyms”, “art schools”, “occult centres”, “religious organizations”, “political factions” and so on, where all decent citizens gather nowadays, are nothing but shop-windows for networks and they mostly serve as points of recruitment of new members. What is taught in those places is unimportant, as it is usually entirely useless outside the rooms of the “school”. What really counts in there is “talent”: the talent to be a herd animal.

  That's why all my endeavours end in a flop.

  That's why it is almost impossible for me to find new friends.

  That's why men are never interested in me.

  That's why wherever I go (workplaces, schools, gyms, clubs, etc), I'm eventually kicked out.

  That's why in the taekwondo school I am treated as if I had scabies! Who knows what really binds them all -and it certainly isn't their passion for taekwondo!

  That's why wherever I've worked so far, I've always been at the lowest position and paid the lowest possible salary.

  That's why whatever I do is never considered to be good enough; no matter how hard I try, the result never satisfies the others. For some hitherto inexplicable reason, I've always been deemed insufficient, thus unworthy of living.

  All things considered, I am not unlucky; I am a fool -Helen Tandoulou is right! All my life, up to now, I have always ignored the most important rule of survival: Do not trust anybody! Actually, I have been quite lucky so far, taking into account my credulity towards the others and my tendency to reveal a lot about myself, begging for some approval.

  It is clear to me now that many accidents (mortal or not) are not accidents at all! They are crimes, well organized and legal crimes! Any time an “outsider” dares challenge an “insider”, the former is punished immediately! Likewise, if someone from the “family” refuses to accomplish a mission, he is toast!

  The price of knowledge: Thanks to Persephone I have just understood the basic function of human society, and that is networks. Of course, I have to do with a dangerous person, and I must be very careful with her from now on. However, if I had not met her, probably I would have never known how rotten human society is. Persa is a typical example of how a born cypher mysteriously ascends in the social ladder. I've known her ever since she was a child and I can tell; maybe she has forgotten all those times she has attempted to commit suicide but I haven't.

  I became suspicious of Persa because of her unnatural obesity: If there was another friend with me in Parga, it wouldn't have occurred to me that the flirt scene in the cafeteria was a put-up job. I wonder: How many people, members of networks, put up such performances in order to create certain impressions or problems to unsuspecting targeted persons? What kind of backstage has been around me all these years? And what else am I going to confront in the future?

  The bad thing about the future

  is that it is coming.

  It wouldn't stay where it is.

  I wish I could stop time,

  and hold back the unknown,

  dark, hostile future...

  # # #

 
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net

Share this book with friends