Hey Everybody,
I made this WAY WAY shorter than my last chapter because I know how hard it is to read. This one is half as long so hopefully that helps! 
Happy Reading!
**This is the corrected version. Be warned that it is still rough so harsh reviews are needed **
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CHAPTER TWO
The streets of Rome are as crowded as the day when I arrived, bustling with noise and bursting with people. I stay close to father as we weave in and out of the crowds. “Amycus, please excuse the absence of transportation. I would call upon my servants to carry us but seeing as we are only a few blocks from the shipping – “
“Evander, you do not have to spoil us. We are Greek,” Father smiles and Evander breathes easier.
I note that Evander always seems to want to please and everything he does is to make others comfortable. While I stay by my father's side, I see Nicandro drifting along beside Evander, his eyes taking in everything and nothing. He is expressionless, as I’ve become accustomed to, and I find my eyes floating to his on countless occasions as we near ever closer to the shipping yards. I am ashamed to say that he has my attention more than ever after our slightly tense conversation at breakfast. He is still alluring and I find myself smiling at the memory of our earlier conversation.
We reach the shipping yards with my father limping slightly. I have forgotten about his hip, weak after being vaulted from the back of a horse during my infancy. Evander notices this as well and quickly assess the situation. “You must rest, Amycus. Please, sit awhile.”
Father shakes his head and I see beads of perspiration at his hairline. My own blouse sticks to my spine; we are not used to the severity of the heat in Rome along with all of the bustling bodies. “I’m just not as young as I used to be,” Amycus says in way of apology for his weakness.
“Father, please rest,” I plead, tugging lightly on his elbow. He gives in to my gentle touch and I help him over to the nearest bench.
“The shipping yards are just beyond these shops, Amycus. Take your time resting. We are in no hurry,” Evander assures him, and my father pants in reply.
“Let me get you some water,” I say and stand from where I was kneeling beside him.
“Water, yes,” Evander says and passes over some gold coins. I have the sudden urge to refuse his money; he sees my hesitation. “For your father. Take them.” I let the cool coins slip onto my palm and I close my fingers over them to secure them.
I turn to find the nearest supplier of drink when Evander orders his son to accompany me. I can’t hold my tongue at that moment. “I don’t need an escort. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” I say to Evander, directing this slightly towards Nicandro, who watches amusingly from the sidelines.
“I understand that, Isadora, but the streets of Rome are a little more insidious than your home,” Evander reasons.
Father speaks up, then. “Listen to Evander, Isadora. He lives here. He knows what’s best.” I pout and look over his distressed form and then at Nicandro’s arrogant face, sighing with annoyance. I then stomp away without a word, knowing that the argument is pointless. Nicandro catches up and stays by my side with long easy strides. His eyes are watchful and ever vigilant. “Don’t be so fearful. I’m afraid no one will trouble us today.” I rally him crossly.
“One can never to too careful,” he replies, eyes never leaving the people surrounding us. I eventually find what I am looking for and trade the gold coins for a jug of fermented wine. I had hoped for water but, being in Rome, I can expect no less.
We reach my father minutes later. Evander is at his side and, when he spots us, he urges us over. I hold the cup out to my father, who takes it with shaking hands, sipping it tentatively before choking it back up on the dirt ground between his knees. Gasping for air, Evander urges him to consume the wine. I, however, watch the ground.
The earth laps it up like a parched dog, and leaves the dirt stained crimson red. When I look back up, father has finished half of the jug of wine with Evander’s encouraging voice whispering in his ear. I have never seen him so helpless. I kneel before him “Father, you must leave this deathly heat.”
“But, we must see the shipping yards,” he pants.
I look up at Evander, who nods and says; “We can see the shipping yards tomorrow. Listen to your daughter, Amycus.” My father’s eyes meet mine and I see the pain of appearing weak glimmering there. I pat his hand and whisper for his ears only, “You are strong.” He nods and stands trembling to his feet. Evander and I help guide my father back to the Chandrenos’ home, Nicandro leading the way.
~ ~ ~ ~
I close the door behind me and tip toe across the hall. The soft snoring of my father penetrates the wooden door and drifts into the narrow hall. I smile and barely make it to my room when Evander is suddenly there in the hallway. “How is he?” I hear the worry in his voice and am surprised.
Yes, my father worked for him for many years but I had never thought of how close these two men might have been. And this perplexes me. I had always thought Evander is a close business partner to my father, but never a close friend, as he is beginning to turn out to be.
“Much better. Sleep will do him good,” I say, my eyes narrowed slightly.
Evander runs a weary hand through his dark locks and looks to the ceiling before turning back to me. “You must be tired,” he says with concern.
“Not really,” I say truthfully and Evander smiles.
“Well then, why don’t you join the rest of us down in the terrence,” he waves a hand to incline the way but I hesitate. I think of Father, weak but slumbering soundly behind the closed door. I know I should be the daughter who stays by his bedside until he awakes, preparing fresh water and something tasty to eat. But Evander’s amiable face persuades me to follow.
Down in the terrence, Delicia joins us. It seems her feet never touch the ground for she walks so fluidly. She sits with a flourish and Evander sighs, “Beautiful day.” I look beyond the canopy and nod in agreement. The sky is cerulean in color, absent of clouds. The terrence is positioned on a hill and below, a pond with lily pads and ducks swim near-by. It attracts my attention and I glance up shyly in Delicia and Evander’s direction. They see me looking down at the pond and Delicia nods slowly, the corners of her mouth up turning slightly, as though she wishes to smile but is holding it back. Evander nods as well, and I leap to my feet, raising my skirt to tumble down the hill.
At the pond, the water is murky and frogs croak to each other across the way. I find with beatitude a short, wooden bridge leading from one end of the pond to the other. I step onto it and pause at the crest, peering over the edge. I see a frog perched on a lily pad and watch as it puffs up its cheeks with a croak. I move and it sees this, jumping into the pond with a quiet splash. I watch the ripples it has created expand across the surface of the pond, and see the frog swim to a rock at the bottom in the murky depths.
I finish crossing the bridge and look at the forest in front of me. Curiosity gets the better of me and I disappear into its thick branches. It is only a short walk until I break through. Sunlight hits me with such force, I shade my eyes against the glare. The hill slopes downward and beyond is the rest of Rome, spread out. But it isn’t the wealthy part I see now.
Small homes, like cardboard boxes, are crammed together on narrow streets; carts and wagons with lop-sided wheels roll along and little boys’ barely clothed scatter about, kicking a blown up bladder of a long, deceased cow. Girls carry washing and hang it out to dry. Elders perch on the stoops to the houses, hunched over and smoking tobacco. Mothers pour buckets of waste into the streets below and people ducking out of the away as they walk to work.
I slowly back away, the clarity of what I am seeing engraving itself on the cornea of my eyes. The poverty is so fierce that I am shocked, and I quickly run in the opposite direction. My family isn’t the wealthiest of families in Greece but never have we experienced something as dreadful as this. Why isn’t anybody helping these people? Clothing their children and providing clean drinking water?
I arrive back at the pond and peer up at the terrence. I see that another figure has joined them, the sun glinting off of the curls on the figure’s head.
Nicandro.
I walk as slowly as I can, pushing the sight of the poverty away from my mind. It is too grim to think about in the company of the Chandrenos family. I plaster a smile on and they all greet me with squinted eyes until I disappear beneath the canopy, the sun disappearing from my back. “Such a peaceful place,” Delicia says softly. The vision of the village is still imprinted in my mind and I nod shakily. My hesitation goes unnoticed, as the family is comfortable in their wealth, oblivious to the poor nearby. “I think I will retire now.” I excuse myself and Evander nods. I go up into my quarters, leaving the Chandrenos behind.
On the balcony, I am free to ponder upon the people I have seen. I knew there were slums back home but I had never bothered to think further. I had never ventured to actually see them for myself. And if they were anything compared to the one I had seen, I will pay them a visit the very day I return home.
Anger bubbles beneath the surface as I think of the Chandrenos and their home. I glance around at the room that is roughly the size of those people’s homes. How can they feel good about themselves when others starve so severely? How can they sleep at night knowing that others are shivering with no means of warmth? I could think of only one answer to this: They have no idea these people exist.
That is the only solution.
Now that I have seen it, I won’t be able to sleep tonight, their weak cheers of laughter and the slop crashing to the earth burns into my very soul. I hope that soon, the Chandrenos will see the error in their ways and know that while others suffer around them, they are sitting in the lap of luxury.
It makes me sick just to think about it.
At dinner that night, my appetite is not as hearty, the scent of the food sends my stomach churning. I wonder what the people in the village are eating. My imagination runs wild, as it does at times, and my mind conjures up the image of a family of four, all of them barely skin and bones. The father would return home, hands cupped with a half loaf of molded bread and he would split it into fourths. Then, the mother would place four bowls of watered down pea soup, more water than pea. They would huddle together for warmth and thank Zeus for his gift of meager food and than eat enough just to keep them alive.
After that, I have completely lost my appetite and push my food around on my plate with mock enthusiasm, eating only to keep the others oblivious to what I have seen. Father is boisterous tonight and talks with Evander. They decide to visit the shipping yards tomorrow, this time with the servants carrying them. I will not accompany them. I know I will have to come up with something to decline the offer, but I won’t worry about it until tomorrow.
~ ~ ~ ~
Dawn brings with it a sense of heinous activity. I can’t pinpoint my thoughts but I fear that there will be a fight when I refuse to accompany them to the shipping yards today. I have made up my mind to sneak away and visit the poor village while the men are out. I know Delicia does not rise until well after noon, so I will not be bothered.
I enter the entertainment room with deliberate slowness and I see that everyone is in high spirits. Even Nicandro cannot refuse Zeus when he shines so brightly outside and there is a twinkle in his eyes, a lightness amidst the storm.
“Ah, daughter!” my father says with a wide smile.
“Hello, Father.” I bow my head.
“I daresay it will be another hot day. Luckily, Evander has provided us with shade,” my father states and I cull together as much courage as I can muster.
“I don’t know if I wish to stroll today, Father,” I say and it shoots from my mouth before I can stop it.
“What?” Father asks slowly, as if slightly befuddled by my rush of words.
I hate to repeat. “I don’t know if I wish to stroll today.” He shakes his head and I see Evander and Delicia exchange glances. Nicandro seems confused and his eyes are narrowed.
“You don’t wish to stroll today,” my father finally says and I cringe when his eyes land on me. “Of course you don’t wish to stroll after yesterday. But like I said, we have transportation and shade.” He makes light of a dark situation.
I know the dishonor in refusing a father’s wishes. I know the duty a daughter must serve to her elder. And now, as I gaze upon my father, I see that I still must serve. He is growing older by the day and I can’t refuse him. I sigh deeply. The poor will have to survive another day without me.
“Of course. Silly me.” I force a smile and the tension is blown away.
“Excellent. It’s settled, then. On to the shipping yards!” my father bellows cheerfully, marching from the room, followed by an amused Evander, and a not-so-amused Nicandro. “What was that all about?” he demands without moving his lips.
I stride beside him, my chin raised. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”
“Clearly,” he says sharply and I narrow my eyes. “Still curious, however, on why you wanted to find your way out of coming with us today?”
“I wasn’t trying to find my way out of anything.”
“Why lie? I saw right through your pretending.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
We argue most of the way to the litter but when we board, we act as though nothing is wrong. I insist on sitting beside Father, so Nicandro takes the seat across from me. I fume and cross my arms. His foot bumps mine and I tuck my ankles beneath me. His eyes sparkle again and I snort. Father hears this and glances up, eyebrow raised. I turn my head and bow my chin, embarrassed by my outburst. Nicandro seems to be on the verge of laugher, and I glare inimically at him.
At the shipping yards, it is just as loud as when we arrived, and I peer up at the ships with wonder. Only three days previous, I had arrived on one just as large. The trip was eventful at the beginning before it grew tiresome. I remember dolphins greeted us once. I had watched their glistening bodies’ streak though the navy blue waters, calling to us with enthusiasm. I was instantly fascinated and a sailor had approached me, then. “Strange-looking things, ain’t they?”
“I think they’re beautiful,” I had gushed.
“Well, they used to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you heard the stories?” he had asked with an air of a story coming on. I shook my head, waiting to hear more. “Well, long ago, it was said that there weren’t any dolphins around. Instead, there were mermaids.”
“Mermaids?” I had scoffed.
“Yes, half-fish, half-human. Beautiful maidens with scaly tails like trout. In fact, they were said to be the most beautiful creatures alive. But then, as the story goes, men started to hunt these maidens. It became unsafe for them so they transformed into dolphins. Now, it is said to bring good luck to any ship when dolphins appear.”
“Do you think it is true?”
The man had shrugged. “No one knows.” And then he was off, whistling a tune.
The journey was uneventful after that, until we reached port.
Now, I try to spot the ship we had arrived on but realize that it probably already sailed away back to Greece. Oh, how I wish to be on it right now! To be returning home.
Evander and my father are deep in conversation a few yards away, and when I glance their way, Father gives me a look that clearly says I am not to bother them. Nicandro soon joins me. “What do you think of Rome?”
“You want me to aggrieve you with my opinion again?” I turn towards him. “I thought you learned your lesson last time you asked for my opinion.”
The corners of his mouth upturn slightly. “I am a slow learner.”
“Clearly,” I say underneath my breath, but I know that he has heard.
“So, will you share it with me?” he presses.
I shrug. “Rome is too busy for me.”
“But busy is exciting?” he points out.
“Yes, to a point.” His eyes narrow in confusion and I go on. “But after awhile, everything becomes routine. You pass by the same people. You hear the same sales. See the same shops. Of course, the clothes are new. And the smells might be different but otherwise, everything becomes boring soon enough.”
“And Greece never is boring?”
“No. Greece is timeless. A country stuck in its ancient traditions.” I turn to him. “And that’s what makes it beautiful.”
“So, you are saying that there is no beauty in Rome?”
“No. The architecture is magnificent and the culture is divine. But you must know that everything has an ugly side.” I think of the village and my heart hardens a bit.
“What is the ugly side of Rome?”
I say it before I can stop myself. “Poverty.”
Nicandro is bewildered. “But poverty is everywhere. It is part of life.”
“Yes, poverty is everywhere. But there shouldn’t be any. You and your family eat and drink and lay about all day while the poor scavenge for every meal. You have gold to spare but do you share? No. You keep it locked away for a rainy day or let it slip through your fingers and spend it as if it were as abundant as water.” I don’t realize how harsh my voice has gotten until I see Nicandro’s face. It is a pasty white and his lips are stretched into a thin line. I turn quickly away, knowing that I have said too much.
“Your opinions will get you into trouble one day, Isadora Chatzi,” he says with a stern gaze.
“Free speech isn’t forbidden.” I try to defend myself.
“No, but it is a privilege.”
“A privilege I can divulge in.”
“It is also a privilege that can be taken away if you use it unwisely.”
“They can’t take away my freedom.” I lift my chin.
“You are naïve, Isadora. The emperor can do whatever he pleases.” There is a hard glint in Nicandro’s eyes, warning me of something I cannot divulge.
