“Try not to kill anyone this time, will you Titus?”
Needless to say this got Gisela’s attention, but I ignored her questions to retort, “Try not to get yourself into trouble you can’t get out of, and I won’t have to.”
We laughed as Vibius climbed down from the wagon and grabbed his gear. Making arrangements that we would return in a few days so that Gisela and Juno could meet, I headed the wagon towards my farm, telling Gisela what happened the last time we came home.
Topping the low rise and seeing the farm, I felt my stomach lurch as I wondered if there would ever be a time in my life where the sight of my boyhood home would not make me feel like I was ten years old, coming home without a bag of nails because I lost them. Gisela sensed my mood; without saying anything she reached over to put her hand on my arm, and I felt my face flush as I slapped the reins, turning the wagon off the road and bumping up the path to the farm. Despite it looking much the same as I remembered I saw some slight changes, things that had fallen into disrepair, like the holes in the path that normally would have been filled. I did not see Phocas at first, but the rattling of our wagon caused the door to open, then I saw his familiar figure emerge, peering at us from the gloom of the house. Having experienced the sensation of how he aged the last time I was home, I prepared myself for the change an even longer interval of time had wrought on him, or at least I thought I did. Nevertheless, I was shocked, because Phocas had become an old man, this time for real. The slight stoop I noticed the last time I visited was much more pronounced, and what was left of his hair had gone completely gray. The wrinkles around his eyes had deepened and moved down the length of his face, leaving crevices around his cheeks. With some people this is a sign that they have spent a lot of their time laughing, but I could see that was not the case with Phocas. Waiting for him to recognize us, I finally realized that his squinting at us was not due to just the bright light; his vision was obviously degraded as well, so it was not until we were no more than a dozen paces away that his face dawned with recognition. Staggering a step, his hands went out towards me as if I were some sort of apparition that he was trying to ward off.
“Titus, is that truly you?” it was his voice that caused the tears to flood my eyes.
Gone was the soothing, mellifluous deep voice that still carried the accent of his native land, replaced instead by the quavering croak of an old man. I tried to speak, yet could not, and I was ashamed of myself, but as I glanced over I saw Gisela’s eyes filled with tears as well. Instead of saying anything, I jumped down from the wagon and strode over to him, engulfing him in an embrace, my shock deepening at the feel of his fragility. Still, his grip around my neck was just as strong as I remembered it, and we both stood there weeping for I do not know how long before, wiping our eyes and sniffling, we broke our embrace, both laughing embarrassedly.
Finally, I spoke, “Yes, it’s me Phocas. I’ve come home to visit. And to fulfill a promise I made to you.”
I am not sure what reaction I was expecting, but it was not what I got. Phocas' face took on an expression of extreme sadness, with a fresh spate of tears immediately flowing down his cheeks, bewildering me, and I was about to press him on the cause of his grief when he stepped around me, peering up at Gisela in the wagon.
“And who is this then? And what are you doing dragging a pregnant woman all about the country?”
Embarrassed that I had completely forgotten her, I mumbled the introductions, but Gisela did not seem to take offense. Without waiting for either of us to help, she climbed down from the wagon by herself. Walking over to Phocas, to his surprise, and some discomfort I suspect, she swept him into her embrace.
“I am Gisela, Phocas. I'm Titus’ woman, and I'm carrying his child. He has told me so much about you, and I'm happy to finally have the chance to meet you.”
To my irritation, Phocas looked surprised. What, am I so unable to attract a fine woman that it should provide such a shock, I thought sourly? However, I said nothing. Turning to me, Phocas beamed.
“Well done, boy. She is truly a jewel.”
“Where’s Gaia?” I asked, looking over his shoulder, puzzled that the commotion did not bring her to the door. I was not expecting such from my father, but I was sure that Gaia would have been all over me by now. There was no answer, and my heart skipped a beat, so I turned to face Phocas, his face telling me everything I needed to know, and it was my turn for more fresh tears to run down my face.
“She died almost a year ago,” Phocas told us as we sat at the table, and looking about, I could see that things were hard for Phocas and my father. Phocas had done his best, but there is just a difference between the way a woman keeps a house and the way a man does it, especially one the age of Phocas. I was still unable to speak, so great was my shock, and Gisela was sitting next to me, trying to comfort me, as was Phocas. He poured us some wine and I noticed that he did not add water to his, as was his normal habit. Staring into his cup, he continued.
“She had been complaining about being tired,” he smiled sadly, “at least more than she normally complained. You remember Titus, how she was always sure that she was coming down with some malady.”
I smiled back. It was true; rarely a month went by where Gaia did not dramatically pronounce that she was sure she had come down with some ailment that was likely to take her life. Phocas and I teased her unmercifully, with Phocas even joking that it would give him the excuse to find another woman, which she always answered with a tart retort that he did not have to wait for her to die, he was more than welcome to go find some foolish woman who was stupid enough to fall for his blandishments. Despite the words, the tone was always loving between the both of them, and that teasing was a part of my childhood I remembered with great fondness.
“Well, she complained as usual. And as usual, I didn’t listen,” suddenly his composure broke, and he was racked with sobbing. It took him a few moments to compose himself, as I sat there helplessly, not sure what to do. I had never seen Phocas like this, and being in the army ten years such tender feelings were signs of weakness, so I just sat there waiting for him to regain his composure. Gisela glared at me before pulling herself to her feet to place her arms around Phocas, and as he lay against her arms and continued to sob, I realized that this was probably the first time he had a chance to grieve. After all, I could hardly imagine Lucius being any comfort. Finally composing himself, he continued.
“But then she started losing weight, and you know Titus that she didn't have much to lose. I went into town to consult the priests and even hired a doctor. I tried everything, but nothing worked. She just……..faded away.”
I sat there, unable to speak, partly because I did not know what to say, but also because my sense of shame was so overpowering that I did not trust myself to speak. I had been selfish and completely absorbed in my own career and my own life, turning my back on the people most important to me. Now, all my promises about freeing them were empty since Gaia was dead. I could not even cry anymore; I was past being worried what Gisela would think, so deep was my shock and sadness. Instead we sat there in silence, gulping our wine as I imagined I felt Gaia’s numen hovering above us.
“Phocas!”
Even all these years later, the sound of his voice sent a thrill of hatred and fear up my spine. My head shot up, catching Phocas’ eye, and he answered my unspoken question.
“He’s worse than ever. Truthfully, I don't know what keeps him alive.”
Smiling meanly, I stood up and said, “Well, maybe a visit from his long lost son will do the trick and send him to Hades where he belongs.”