Manolis was about six years old when he saw Mina for the first time. They were returning from the market with Mrs. Popi, his mother, when, arriving at the apartment building where they lived, in Kypseli, they saw a truck stopped and two workers unloading furniture.
It seemed strange to Popi that she hadn’t noticed when the only unfurnished apartment was rented out – a two-room flat on the fifth floor, right above her own privately owned flat. And the fifth floor used to be a single flat until the owner built a wall and created a two-room apartment for his mother, who was not wanted by his daughter-in-law. When his mother died, instead of demolishing the wall, he preferred to rent it out. Anyway, the house was big enough for two people, and she had gotten used to living like that.
They moved slowly towards the entrance when a loud voice was heard. “Slow down! Enough already! You’ve broken half of my things…” And then they saw her. Mother and son stood with their mouths open. A girl, about twenty years old, came out of the entrance and walked quickly towards the truck. “You clumsy fools, get lost…” she muttered through her teeth.
It was mid-September, yet she was wearing white shorts, revealing a beautiful pair of tanned legs, which the sweaty workers were eyeing. Her hair was long, about waist-length, and had an unusual red color, almost orange. Mrs. Popi pulled Manolis’s hand hard and dragged him inside. “That’s just what we needed! To have crazy girls in our house…”
The child reluctantly followed his mother, his head turned towards the stranger. Mrs. Popi was thirty years old and resembled a small whale. Even the way she walked reminded one of a whale flapping outside the water.
