CAIN
By Konstantinos Theotokis*
Κωνσταντίνος Θεοτόκης
Adapted from the Greek original (Κάιν) by Vassilis C. Militsis
Kostas Lambouras returned home upset that night. His face was pale, his eyes wide and faint and his lips tremulous; his countenance was nasty, singular and fierce. He wore his fez askew and had thrown his jerkin offhandedly on his shoulder; his greasy shirt sleeves were tucked up.
Within the house his wife was preparing supper; he entered and sat by the hearth, as the first chills of autumn had set in. He did not say a word of greeting but he breathed angrily and from time to time he shook his head threateningly.
“What are you cooking, Eugenia?” he asked her sullenly.
“Herbs,” she replied looking at him with suspicion; “What is it again?”
“He’s ruined us!” he answered sighing spitefully; “he’s given the flock over to its owner. How can we make a living now?”
“But Kostas,” she dared to remark softly, “the flock didn’t belong to you; you couldn’t afford it, so how could he have kept it?” She smiled.
“What are you talking about?” he said looking at her askance; “Who’s put such ideas into your head? None is paying now. So what did he have to be afraid of?”
“The law is upright. You could both have gone to jail, and your brother hates to be in prison.”
“You can’t go to prison for such petty offences,” he mocked; “Do you see people go to jail every day? Does it seem to you we’ve gone back to the old times? Such practices are over and done with. Everybody does what he likes. After all, why do we vote for our deputies? – In order that we can have our conveniences. Who has asked for a favor and he hasn’t been satisfied? Every day you can hear about murders, but you can’t know how long it takes until the wrong doers are punished! Maybe months? And my brother has been scared; of what? Confiscation? If we could have allowed it in the first place. But I’ll deal with my kind brother.”i
He fell silent and assumed a fiercer countenance. He was thinking to himself: His brother had wronged him – it was such an injustice that he had handed the flock over to its owner in the heart of the winter, when they had no other means to make ends meet. But he couldn’t care less; he was single, childless and carefree. Whom did he have to feed? All he was worried about was saving his own hide. When poverty struck them, he could leave and let his brother go hungry to face the music alone. Wherever he went, he would survive, for he was hard-working. But then what would he do himself? How could he support himself and his family? He was always unlucky. Those years the olive trees yielded no oil. Only the flock could have supported them the year round, but his brother, either out of stupidity or out of malice, had handed the flock over to his owner. Alas, his brother behaved like his true enemy!
Eugenia stirred the herbs in the pot and tasted them; then she fetched bread from a hanging hamper and looking at her husband in the eyes, she said uneasily: “Supper is ready.”
“I’m not hungry,” he responded rudely and ruefully fell into his meditations.
“He let me down without a hint; I confess, he had said something to me some days before, but I let him on; I didn’t believe he would dare do it. If I’d known, in no way I would I have let him do it. I’d rather we had come to blows; or I’d rather have killed him! But he tricked me. And I was certain that he trusted me, that he did what I expected of him, that he liked to work for our home – for the family! He was constantly driving it home that he never wished to marry, and he said everybody was fond of me. And now he rebelled and did what was on his mind; just what I didn’t like. And he didn’t foresee the distress that would visit us though he knew how much my family and I would suffer; for he could make a living where he went to live. Anyway, let him have it; alas, he’s left me. Needless to think about it. The flock isn’t coming back to us – no! I know my accursed luck; we’ll starve to death in winter. From tomorrow on we’ll be out of bread. But he has always been an enemy to me. Once he did his best to prevent me from marrying Eugenia – and I married her in spite of him – some other times he kept watch over me lest I steal somebody’s things, he was my guardian angel to stop me committing an injustice and sinning – I always detested him. That’s why we never agreed. I called him a devil every day. Now look what he’s done to me. I’ll fix him good when he comes to see me tomorrow! But I’m afraid he won’t come because he’s afraid of me. He must have run off overseas; and he’d better have or I’ll become a…”
He opened his eyes shaking and shivering
“Let’s go to bed,” said his wife, “don’t fret so much; for pity’s sake, Kostas.”
He regarded her stock-still as though he had emerged from a nightmare. “Go and lie down and I’m coming shortly,” he said engrossed in sinister thoughts. She did not budge.
“Cain!” an inner voice spoke to him; “Will you kill your brother? He may be the cause of your disaster, but he’s still your brother. You came out of the same womb, you are of the same blood, you’ve been breast-fed with the same milk, and you’ve been eating the same bread since you came to this world together.” And he replied to that inner voice mentally: “But I should punish him to satisfy my revenge. He deserves it. I have to, for he dragged me to poverty, ruined me, devastated me.” And the voice that rose from the depth of his viscera answered back:
“Cain! Have you no fear of God? How can your soul spawn such thoughts? How can you shed your own blood and end up an infamous murderer?”
“He deserves it,” he considered, “if he has been nasty to me, I shall be worse: a beast, a wild tiger. He deserves it because he’s ruined me completely. Let his partner save him if he can; we shall see.” And the voice went on: “If you have no fear of God, don’t you dread the gallows?” “The gallows?” he mocked; “what about the gallows? What are there the governmental deputies for? The party will take action; the party is powerful. Which court of law shall judge me? And if it should condemn me to hang, the party shall unhang me. Woe to him who’s been ruined! As I’m ruined, let him be ruined, too, and then let them punish me. I shall come out unscathed. Besides, I may not be caught.”
“I’ll take his life,” he said to his wife.
She was taken aback, sat up, looked at him aghast and lowering her eyes she noticed his ruthless resolution depicted on his countenance.
“But your brother is good; what wrong has he done to you?” she said.
“Good? How come?” he replied and stood up in rage; “Is he good because he’s leading me to starvation? Why are you defending him, you bitch? I’ll kill you, too!”
“Oh, dear God! What dreadful woe has fallen upon us!” she said weeping. “They’ll hang you, Cain!”
Kostas Lambouras looked around him in high dudgeon. She had heard out of his wife’s mouth that same voice speaking to him from the depth of his heart; how did she also figure out the storm in his soul and his secret thoughts? And suddenly his unruly fantasy made him see a ghastly image: he had committed murder and racing through the center of the village grasping the blood-stained knife while all the people looked at him horrified and averted their faces uttering in contempt the accursed name of Adam’s son: “Cain! Cain!” His wife has already called him so. But the world had no idea what his evil brother had done to him. The world was not aware of his brother’s wrongness; all they could see was the murder that they accused him of. And Kostas wanted to respond: “My brother has bought his death; he has signed his doom. Others in my position would have done the same thing. They could even have killed their own father, if he had wronged them likewise. Who has turned me into Cain? My own brother. Indeed, I’ll be Cain, but an avenger, a chastiser and a champion of righteousness. No, I don’t seek praise. But, world, hark! I demand you understand my deed. Oh, world, you envy me my daring act and you’re afraid of me; it’s true, you’re afraid of me and I hold sway over you with fear!”
And now his rage was appeased. “It’ll be better,” he mused, “that no one find out, and none shall; I’ll commit the murder in secret, in the dark, obscurely at night. I can only but kill him.”
“Let’s go to bed,” he said to his wife more at rest now; “make the bed.”
“I’m afraid of you,” she shuddered.
“Why? I’m not going to harm you; let’s sleep.”
He was content inside him; he had made his decision and made his heart as hard as rock. His mind grew accustomed to his inhuman thoughts. Realizing that he would be satiated by killing, he felt an unquenchable thirst, a necessity for his existence that only blood could mollify. The punitive revenge he considered, the vengeance of injustice, was sweet to him.
And filled with hatred, accompanied by a newly experienced disturbance of blood and a red vision in his eyes, he lay close to his wife, who pulled away as far as she could to the edge of the mattress, and he fell into a fitful slumber, plagued by horrible and gory apparitions, carnage, disemboweling, violent conflicts, muskets, knives – and from time to time he groaned deeply in his chest and shook in terror.
But his idea gradually matured in his cruel heart.
On the following day, in the afternoon, Nicholas Lembouras sailed in on the caique from Lefkoraki, a short distance away. He had settled his account with the owner; he had yielded the flock to him, had paid off his debts and was bringing with him a sack full of various victuals for his brother’s family and himself, and some remaining little money. On arriving home, Kostas was still out and Eugenia was working in the small garden. Full of anxiety, she had ran to meet him before he set his foot on the threshold forgetting even to greet him.
“Alas, why have you come back?” she said.
“What’s the matter?” he asked unsuspecting and looked around innocently.
“He’ll kill you; he’s decided to do so.”
“Who?”
“Your brother.”
“Why” he smiled; “come on, sis, don’t believe it. Kostas is a good brother.”
“Oh, Nicholas,” she replied heaving a sigh; “I beg you, I adjure you on your dear deceased, go away; for my sake, leave. He mustn’t see you because he wants to do you in – he’s made up his mind. His eyes had an evil glint. He’s infuriated about your giving the flock back to the owner.”
“The flock? But it didn’t belong to us. I let him know about it the day before yesterday. The owner had given it to me when Kostas was in jail; but now I’ve given it up. Kostas maybe wanted me to keep it, but, on the other hand, he hadn’t made himself clear. He’ll get over his wrath, as always, and God will provide. Now we are in sore straits, but somehow we shall weather it. We’ll find another job.”
“I know you’re right, Nicholas, but you’d better leave; go and save your own hide, so that we can also be safe. I’m telling you he wore an evil look, and now he’ll be coming shortly and you’ll be dead.”
“Don’t believe it, sis,” he smiled again; “he’s just barking, you’ll see.” He went into the house and sat by the hearth, right where his brother had sat the night before.
Eugenia followed him uneasily.
“I’m hungry,” he said
“I dread for both of you,” she answered instead.
“Forget about your fears and give me some bread,” he said good-naturedly.
She did what he asked for and sat in her place deep in thought. While he was eating, Nicholas was telling her how the good householder had received him and had settled their accounts, and the good man had paid him more than it was due. He repeated what they had talked together. Thereafter, he told her about the town, what he had bought, what he had eaten in the tavern, and about the people he had met. But while the time was speeding away, anxiety was eating Eugenia’s heart. Her husband was about to come at any moment now and only God knew what was going to happen in the house. He barely listened to Nicholas; all she did was to heave frequent sighs with misty eyes.
It was already dusk when Kostas showed up; his regard was full of venom, but he appeared self-possessed.
“Good evening,” he greeted.
“Welcome,” they responded.
Eugenia thought for a moment to beg for mercy down on her knees, but she kept back. She had seen his ugly look. Nicholas replied genially.
“Good evening, brother. Business was good, so I brought a few things and some money.”
“How much?”
“Ten thalers.”
“Is this the price of the flock?”
“No. This is the pay for our labor.”
“What’s done is done,” Kostas smiled ruefully and frowned.
None spoke and went on sitting by the fire. Kostas fell into brooding, Nicholas was drowsy and Eugenia looked anxiously at the two men in turns. The time passed and deep night fell.
Suddenly a dog barked, and Kostas presently observed:
“Our old flock’s dog is barking.”
“Yes,” Nicholas said waking up; “It’s barking at something.”
“No,” someone is walking by; I’ll go and see who it is at this late hour.” He stood up and went out.
“Have you seen, sis?” said Nicholas with a smile; “it was only a storm in a teacup. All will be fine tomorrow.”
“Don’t be so certain,” she replied; “I don’t like his look. His heart is black.”
“Hey, Nicholas!” Kostas hollered from outside; “There are some people asking for help. Come and give a hand. They’re smugglers from down the beach at Kalami. They’re afraid of losing their contraband because the police are after them.”
“Don’t go, please don’t!” begged the woman.
“You’re afraid of your own shadow, sis. Don’t fret. I have to go and help those people. Can’t you hear how those dogs are barking? Certainly, there are people who need our help.”
“No; flocks are nearby; that’s why dogs are barking. Don’t go please.”
“I’m tired of listening to you,” he said and went out.
And then Eugenia felt a heartbreaking pain.
The night was moonless but thousands of stars twinkled in the sky. A light breeze was blowing and all that could be heard was the sound of the breakers.
“Down there,” Kostas pointed; “down there at Kalami; let’s hurry.” He set off in haste. Nicholas followed suit.
They exchanged no words on the way and shortly they arrived at the beach.
“Where are they?” Nicholas wondered.
“Over there by the bluff, at the ledge,” his brother said.
The shore line was strewn with shingle and sand. The surf was caressing the ink-black coast softly. They proceeded in quick steps towards the bluff, which towered over the sea and insuperably set apart the Lefkoraki beach from the other one; but neither caique nor people were present there. And then Nicholas recalled his sister-in-law’s fears and grew anxious. He asked perturbed.
“Where are they?”
“Who…? I’ve lured you away to slay you.”
Then the hapless man realized that he was in deadly peril. He rushed against Kostas and tried to stop him. “Cain! Help, help!” he screamed.
He was answered only by his echo. Kostas waded in the water enraged by his brother’s insult that whipped him on his face and apprehensive that the cries could betray his purpose, he got out his pistol and emptied it onto his brother’s body.
“Take it,” he said, “heartless brother; you’ve ruined us for good.”
Nicholas rolled into the water in protracted screams:
“Cain! Cain! Help!” He was only wounded. His pleas, however, infuriated the wretched ruffian, who cupped his brother’s mouth with his palm and drew his dagger out of his sash. He turned his face to the side so as not to see his actions and sank it into the flesh many times opening deadly wounds. But the miserable brother was still alive, because the stabs were dealt obliquely and did not harm either the heart or the throat. A mute moan exited from Nicholas’ wounded breast and his tortured body was writhing in the dark water.
Suddenly barking of dogs and men’s voices were heard. They were coming from the shore. Kostas quickly thought that some herdsmen must have heard the pistol shot and the screams, and they hurried to help. Kostas, fearing to be discovered, hastened to hide, leaving his brother half-dead by the sea.
“Hey, man? Where are you?” two people were asking, and all they could hear was a feeble groan from the dying man.
Kostas reckoned that the shepherds must have been near his brother by now and was anxious that the wounded man would speak; thus he dashed out of his hideout and joined the group. The herdsmen had not reached the bluff yet. They were carrying lanterns and were guided by the dogs. Now they could clearly hear the moaning of the injured victim along with the splashing of the surf. They were running without speaking until they reached the spot where the injured man was. On looking for the first time at his brother’s poor body lashed by the waves, stained by the man’s blood, he covered his eyes with his hands. But recovering soon, he threw himself upon his now unconscious brother, wailing and weeping.
The shepherds recognized the wounded man and talked among them grieved:
“There’s been murder; it’s Nicholas Lambouras; come on Kostas, courage!”
“Go,” the killer said weeping, “go the village and call for help so that we can carry him; call the priest and the police. Do what you need to do; he’s still alive!”
The shepherds left running leaving a lantern and the two brothers behind all alone now.
At that moment the dying man let out a deep sight.
“Brother,” Kostas said; “forgive me.”
“My curse on you, Cain!” he replied in a faint whisper. “Why have you killed me? Now the gallows awaits you!”
“No, no, don’t tell on me; you’re kindhearted and merciful. I won’t let you die; my wife shall take good care of you; I’ll bring doctors; I’ll care for you until you recover; I’ll sell all I can afford, so please, don’t betray me!”
The wounded man sighed again: “You’ve tortured me. You’ve stained your hands with brotherly blood. You’ve brought about great harm on our family. You haven’t harked back to our mother’s bosom that nourished us; nor have you given a thought that we’ve both come out of our father’s loins.” He strove to sit up but in great pain he fell back in the water.
“I’m telling you I’m so sorry. I could have finished you off, had I wanted to, and so I could have silenced you forever. But I don’t have the heart; so don’t tell on me.”
“Whether I live or die, I won’t betray you,” his wounded brother replied weeping; “I don’t wish to harm your family. Let God judge you, Cain!” And saying so he fainted.
Several villagers, startled by the unexpected murder, hastened to the place of Nicholas Lamboura’s impending death, where they all started mourning.
They brought him home extremely weakened. Eugenia, who had not gone to bed, went out into the street shrieking, being well aware what had happened. She sought out her husband, rushed upon him and whispered in his ear:
“Cain, you’ve done it!” She then pointed out to the people where to lay down the dying man.
Kostas stood outside, for he could not stand watching his brother’s agonizing death. A middle aged villager washed with wine and vinegar the man’s wounds and bandaged them; then he declared that Nicholas would have been dead by the morning. The people left for their homes to get a wink of sleep. Nicholas had a quiet night and when he opened his eyes in the morning, Eugenia went close to him and said:
“Nicholas,” she pleaded, “show mercy; don’t tell the truth, or else I’m lost, too.”
The hapless man shook his head reassuring her, reached for her hand and forced a rueful smile that faintly shone on his blighted lips. Then he asked to partake of the holy Eucharist.
Finally after sun up, the authorities came to question the victim and other witnesses. At that moment Kostas was scared of his brother turning him on to the authorities and regretted not finishing him off at the beach. He thought that his brother had promised him to be silent out of fear, but now he could disclose everything. Then he fell down on his knees in front of his moribund brother weeping and wailing. When asked if he knew who had wanted to kill him, the dying man professed ignorance. Eugenia perceived the contented smile of her husband and could no longer stand it. She grew nauseated down in heart against that insidious husband of hers. A voice, deep inside her, was crying for revenge. She realized that she lived with a worthless beast and, therefore, decided at that very moment for her husband’s doom. All of a sudden she began to shout before the authorities:
“Accursed Cain! It was you who’s killed him; none else. And now you’re feigning grief shedding crocodile tears, hypocrite!”
Everyone looked at her nonplussed; then they turned to the dying man, whose eyes were filled with tears. Looking at him intently, the judge asked: “Is it true?”
There was profound silence.
“Don’t cover for him,” the woman said; “tomorrow he’ll kill me, too, for denouncing him.”
The dying man nodded in the affirmative and gave up his ghost.
*Stephanos Konstantinos Theotokis (1872 - 1923) was a Greek writer and translator from Corfu. He wrote prose and poetry. He translated Shakespeare and Goethe.
