Of course you may take my photograph. But only if you agree to help me.
Thank you, Sir. I’m looking for my Grandpa. I heard that he lives on this little island.
No, I never actually met him, and I don’t know exactly what he looks like. The only photos I have seen of him are about forty years old. I know some of his early history, but all I know about him now, is that he is in his eighties and has been separated from his wife and son for about thirty years. No-one has heard anything from him for ages. We do know he had a holiday home on Cyprus, and some people back home think that he probably settled here, having nowhere else to go. I’ve spent the last week going from village to village looking for him.
That’s right, Sir, separated. But he and Gram never actually got a divorce.
I don’t know. Perhaps she was hoping that one day he’d come back; perhaps she saw no point as she wasn’t interested in any other men, or perhaps she just never got round to it.
Yes, I know she could have got a divorce after a long period of separation, but she never bothered.
That’s probably true as well, but that’s not what I’m interested in right now. I just want to find him and talk to him. There’s something important I need to tell him.
If you don’t mind, Sir, I’d prefer to tell him myself when I see him.
Yes Sir, I am. I am sixteen years old.
I have come here from California, Sir. Flew in about a week ago.
My Dad knows about my coming here; in fact, he organised and paid for the trip. My Mom wasn’t keen on me coming all this way on my own. She thinks I’m too young for that, but Dad’ll bring her around to his way of thinking. He always does in the end.
My name is Hank, Hank Knight. My Dad is David Knight.
That’s right. You know him?
You did? Recently?
How is he? What is he doing? Where can I find him? Do you think he will want to speak to me?
Does he? Does he really think that?
Oh, surely not! Has he really given up? Completely?
The thing is this. My Gram, his wife, Sophie, is seriously ill with cancer. The doctors only give her a couple of months.
That’s right. She’s in a hospice. She keeps asking for Gramps; says she wants to see him before she dies; wants to clear up some things with him. From what you say, he’s told you roughly what happened. Gram believes now, that she was too hard on him; that she should have let him find her and Dad. She wants his forgiveness.
Well, I’m glad to hear that, but I’d rather hear it from him; in fact, I’d rather take him home to California so he can tell Gram himself.
You will? Thank you. I’ll leave the mule here and walk with you then, shall I?
Hello, Sir. My name is Hank Knight. This kind man, Stelios, says he thinks you may be my Gramps. Is that true?
Yes, my Dad is David and my Gram is Sophie.
I get my colour from my Mom, Winona. She is Native American; Dakota Sioux.
You are? Really? I’m so glad I found you, too, Gramps.
Yes. I’ve come to tell you that Gram is seriously ill and not expected to last more than a couple of months. She wants to see you before she dies; wants to clear some things with you.
She doesn’t want anything from you; she just wants to see you and to talk to you.
That doesn’t matter, Gramps. I have money for your ticket to California, and back again if that’s what you want.
Yes. Dad has a software company in Silicon Valley. The company’s doing well, so me and Mom and Gram are not short of anything.
You will? That’s terrific. I’ll book the seats today. We should be able to fly in a day or two.
What’s that, Gramps?
Yes, Sir. I’d love a drink of your goat’s milk.