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| Zayn |
“Mister Zayn Nouriani?”
“Yes.”
“Welcome to Cyprus. I am Marios. Please.”
The man was possibly nearing 60. But he insisted on carrying my bag for me. I was relieved to find out his car wasn’t far. As he put my bag in the trunk, I quickly checked my phone to make sure I had the name right.
Marios gestured for me to go sit in the car. I sat in the passenger’s seat and felt the cool of the air-conditioning. Marios soon joined me inside of the car.
“Samantha’s Pub, yes?”
“Oh. Yes. Please. Thank you, Marios.”
Marios had been told where to go by my publisher, who had hired him. I could relax and just watch the scenery go by. I did have the best job in the world. I got startled when we reached the roundabout and Marios went the left way around.
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| Zayn |
“You drive on the left here?”
“Yes. Like home, no?”
I quickly got the misunderstanding. I’d had a layover in Gatwick in London. So the flight he had been tracking was from there. However, I’d flown in from New York. I explained to Marios and he quickly understood.
“Cyprus was English colony. So we drive left. And we have the English plugs, like electricity plugs? And lots of English people here. For vacation. Or, living.”
I felt busted that I hadn’t done my research properly. But then, Marios didn’t know what I did for a living. And I had always felt comfortable doing the research on location.
I had written several travel books at this point. Cyprus was going to be the third in a series of European destinations that aren’t at the top of many Americans’ lists. But should be. The books had been a success for the travel insights, but I told a personal story in each book as well. I included the locals, befriended them. They had become novels and travel guides in one.
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| Zayn |
It didn’t take long for Marios to tell me about how he became a driver. His brother Constantinos had passed away at the age of 43. Marios had become a driver as a second job to help his widow raise their two sons. During Covid it became his only job as the restaurant he ran had to shut down.
The views had been mainly of grass fields, trees. Cars, no pedestrians. Until we got close to the city of Paphos. I noticed how signs would mostly be in Greek script, but more and more there would be English. I wondered to what extent I was arriving in Britain, but sunny. I got my answer when I saw a pub called ‘Mikey’s’.
And yet it didn’t dawn on me quite yet. Only after thanking Marios and tipping him generously, and I rolled my suitcase up to Samantha’s Pub. There were signs outside that said ‘English Breakfast’, and ‘Premier League matches shown on large TV inside’. Sitting outside were groups of British tourists, having their dinner and their wine. The sun was just setting.
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| Zayn |
She had barely finished serving the food when she noticed me on the sidewalk.
“Are you Zayn, love?”
The accent could not have been less Cypriot. I realized I had pronounced Samantha in some exotic way, in my mind. Like Marios had. But she was simply Samantha. British.
“Yes”, I said.
“You must have had such a long trip. Gimme one second, yeah?”
“Sure.”
She opened the door to the pub and yelled, at the top of her lungs.
“Holly?! Sweetheart?!”
A pause. The tourists clearly heard, but were used to it.
“Can you clear table 14?! I’m just off to show the studio!!”
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| Zayn |
“Right. Follow me. I’m so sorry, love. It’s the evening rush.”
“Absolutely no problem”, I said.
Samantha crossed the street and quickly took a left into a narrow alley.
“I hope you had a safe trip, love. Must have been ages, from America!”
I told her I’d slept on the overnight plane to Gatwick, and then it had just been a few more hours to get here. She didn’t look like she was listening.
She fished a key out of the back pocket of her jeans and opened the front door. Another floor up, she used another key. We walked into the studio apartment.
“Well, here’s your lot. Bed, TV, table, kitchen. There’s a balcony out there. Bathroom is back here. Remote for the TV, remote for the air-conditioning.”
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| Cam |
“My phone number is on here, please, do not hesitate to call or WhatsApp me. Or just come down if you want. You get a discount for breakfast or dinner at the pub!”
“Awesome! I’m starving. I’ll freshen up and I’ll be right down.”
“Marvelous. See you in a second, love. No rush! I’ll save you a good table.”
I smiled. This could turn out fun. Of course I had to make sure I would also see a more traditional Cyprus. But this welcome had definitely made me smile. Under the shower, my mind was already racing with ideas. There were so many ways to describe this arrival. The travel had made me tired, so the ideas were barely coherent.
The shower was excellent. I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked to the bed. I had already noticed the evening remained quite warm. I took the remote for the AC. Nothing happened. I pressed every button. No air. I looked at the actual unit, high up on the inside wall by the bed. I decided to ask Samantha. I threw my towel on the bed and picked out a T-shirt and shorts.
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| Cam |
“I’ll be right with you, love!”
Once Samantha came to bring me my drink, she asked me if the apartment was to my liking.
“Oh it’s great! I did have some trouble with the AC, but it could just be me not pushing the right button.”
“No, love, definitely not you. It happened in a few of my other apartments as well. Hold on.”
She took out her phone and immediately started texting.
“I only got those things a few years ago, I refuse to replace them. I’ll send Cam up. He’s a bit of a funny one, pay him no mind. But he knows what to do and then they work again for a few months.”
“Are you sure? It’s like 8.30. If you have a fan…”
“You’re a sweetheart, but there’s simply no way I’m going to let that happen.”
She put her phone away.
“Now, do you know what you want to eat?”
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| Cam |
The other tables were 3 post-meal drinks in when I paid my bill.
“Cam is on his way now. He won’t be long”, Samantha told me.
“Thanks”, I said. “Thanks for the welcome, it’s been great.”
I saw a genuine smile on her face. She seemed less stressed than before.
“Handsome and sweet, just how I like ‘em!”
I walked back to the studio and hoped this Cam would be quick. I was usually pretty OK with jetlag, but I knew I had to sleep soon. I was just wondering if I should go ahead and start brushing my teeth, I heard knocks on the door.
I opened the door, to a short man, bulging with muscles. There was no way he was over 5’7’’ (170cm). He had short brown hair and a scruffy beard. I immediately noticed one of his blue eyes looked at me, but the other didn’t.
“Hey. I’m here for the air-conditioning?”
“Cam?”
“Yeah.”
“Come in.”
His voice was low. His speech matter-of-fact to the point of robotic. The accent, again, British. He seemed to have no interest in knowing my name or shaking my hand.
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| Cam |
“It’s this one up here. It does nothing when I use…”
“Yeah, mate, I know. Can you hand me that chair?”
He pointed to the chair with the wicker seat in the corner. It didn’t seem functional as a chair, more decorative or for leaving one’s clothes on. Despite Cam not being very tall, he was a big boy.
“You sure? I could-”
“Mate, just-”
“OK, OK. Don’t worry about it”, I said as I pulled out the chair and handed it over.
Cam was almost hostile, seemingly annoyed to have been called out for this job so late. He placed the chair right under the AC unit and stood on it. It made a creaking sound, but it held up. Without any further comments, he lifted the cover and looked inside.
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| Cam |
“You want a water?”
“Nah, mate. Thanks.”
I walked to the kitchen and got myself a water. Soon I would be able to lay down and sleep. I took a sip and watched Cam work.
His T-shirt stretched across his wide back. It must be rippling with muscles. It was his shorts that had the tougher job. His ass was round and beefy and the shorts could barely contain it. He wasn’t a very nice man, but at least I could take a look at his body while he worked.
“Right, that should do the job.”
I was surprised how quickly Cam was done. He reached up to pull the cover down when I heard a loud crack. I immediately knew the seat of the chair had given way.
Cam’s large, bulky body fell through. The rest of the chair fell back against the foot of the bed, taking Cam with it. It all happened so fast. I saw his arms move quickly in an attempt to keep his balance. But he stood no chance. He fell across the foot of the bed, hitting his head on the bed frame. He remained motionless, his arm falling off the end. A screwdriver dropped to the floor.
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| Cam |
“Cam?”
His eyes were closed, his mouth was open. His one arm dangling off the side of the bed, and the other over his head. He was out of it.
“Cam?”, I repeated.
I instinctively put my hand on his chest. Clearly, he was breathing. His chest felt good. I gently shook him.
“Huh.”
He made a sound.
“Cam? Are you OK?”
He was gradually coming around. His eyes fluttered open as he looked around the room.
“You hit your head on the bed frame.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.”
He tried to get up, but noticed his legs were still stuck in what remained of the chair. I helped him out.
“Are you sure you’re OK?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good, mate.”
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| Cam |
“Can you turn on the AC, see if it works now?”
“Oh. Sure.”
I reached for the remote. The air immediately went on.
“Oh, thank God. Thanks!”
“Cou-could I get that water now? I… I feel a little dizzy.”
“Of course!”
I quickly filled a glass for him and brought it back. I sat next to him at the foot of the bed. He drank all of it in a few gulps.
“Thanks.”
“Feeling better?”
He nodded. He looked at me.
“I had the wonky eye before I came in.”
He chuckled at his own joke, before, suddenly, all of his facial muscles went slack. He fell face first against me.
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| Cam |
“Woah!”
Cam sat up straight.
“Sorry, mate. I-I’ll go now.”
“Be careful”, was all I managed to blurt out.
Involuntarily, I checked out his ass as he walked out. He seemed steady on his feet. Cam opened the door and let it fall shut behind him.
All that remained was the sound of the AC. I could finally sleep. Yet, I was filled with adrenaline.
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