The Silent Minority

me, because they thought I would follow in my father's footsteps, to take over his business. When they realized I am not intending to, they became furious, and now we have as I said a lukewarm relationship."

  "I am sorry to hear that."

  "Well, I had better show you your cell. It is time to prepare for bed, as we will have to get up early tomorrow."

  "Why, what is going on tomorrow?"

  "Nothing special, we always get up early in the morning."

  "What time is that?"

  "About five o'clock."

  "What do you do so early?"

  "We are going to the chapel for Morning Prayer. Do not worry; you are a visitor; you don't have to do that."

  They got up, and the young monk led Michael to a modest cell, freshly painted white, with a bunk, a hanger on the wall for clothes, a small table with a chair in the corner, and a small window overlooking the sea.

  "That is it," he said. "This used to be the baker's cell." Then he gave him some fresh bed sheets, showed him where the toilets and the washing area were, and told him if he needed something, not to hesitate to ask.

  Michael thanked him, and after the young monk left, he lay on the bank thinking, this must be the earliest he'd ever gone to bed, since he was a kid, and also that he must be the first network officer without a television around him. As he was thinking this, he drifted away, and fell asleep.

  It was still dark when a bell ringing frantically awoke him, then he realized that it was only the call for the Morning Prayer and he relaxed.

  He lay there thinking what to do. What was the purpose of him being there? He was trying to dig something out of the back of his mind when it hit him. He got up, washed himself, and went out looking for the young monk. He found him just before he entered the chapel. Anastasios was surprised to see him getting up that early, and asked him, "What is happening?"

  "Nothing," said the rookie. "I need your help. I need to bake some bread for the monks."

  "You cannot do it now; you need permission from the Geronda. Besides, you need yeast. Geronda likes bread with the yeast; he does not like the bread with all this new methods used nowadays."

  "That is true. I don't like them either. I, too only use yeast."

  "Well, now that you are fully awaked, you may as well come for the liturgy, and after that, we will talk the Geronda about it."

  Michael answered disappointedly, "Well, I suppose so."

  So they went into the chapel. Michael followed the young monk, and when the young monk lit a small candle, he did the same.

  It was a small chapel full of icons and candle stands. Even the walls were covered from the bottom to the ceiling with religious figures. Sometimes a monk would chant alone, while at other times, they would chant all together.

  Michael went into the corner and was watching the whole procedure when he nearly burst into a laugh thinking that it all sounded Greek to him. The olds man's eye caught him in the chapel, and it was a pleasant surprise for him to see the young visitor there.

  When the liturgy was over Anastasios and Michael run out of the chapel, they rushed towards Geronda, and the young man told him that Michael wanted to bake bread for the monastery.

  "Do you know how to bake bread?" he asked, surprised, through the young monk.

  "Yes."

  "Who taught you?"

  "My grandfather."

  "Was he a baker?"

  "Not only a baker, he was the best baker!"

  "Do you now know to bake with yeast?"

  "I only know how to bake with yeast."

  Then he gave the young monk directions, and while the Geronda was leaving, he turned and asked.

  "How did you like the liturgy this morning?"

  "Tell him," Michael said smilingly, "that all sounded Greek to me."

  The young monk did not hold back this time, and without being able to stop smiling himself, said to the Geronda, "He said that it all sounded Greek to him."

  "Of course, it sounds Greek to him," he said, "they are Greek." And, shaking his head, he left.

  Michael was very happy, and so was Anastasios; Michael because he thought he had pulled the biggest deal in his life, but why the young monk? Anyway, they went and found the other monk with the old truck, they loaded the scooter on the truck and off they went. When they reached Scala, the shop that hired out the scooter had not yet opened, but the bakery was open, and luckily for Michael, they had some yeast to spare. They got the yeast, and after that they went to Michael's hotel, where he gathered all his gear and put them on the truck. He told the hotelier while he was handing back the key, that he may not need the room anymore, although he paid for the room for the rest of his vacation.

  The hotelier told him that if things don't turn out good at the monastery, he must know that there would be a room waiting for him. So in no time, the scooter shop opened up, and they handed back the scooter.

  Now free from all assignments, they got into the truck and drove off for the monastery.

  At the monastery, it was the first time Michael really had a good look at it and its surroundings. It was at the end of a cliff, overlooking the sea. In front was a magnificent view with a step path that led to the sea, and a big wall surrounded the other parts.

  Michael was eager to see the bakery, but the young monk told him they had plenty time for that afterwards and they should have breakfast first.

  When they reached the dining hall, the others had already finished, so they were the only ones there. For breakfast they had milk, honey, bread, and butter. When Michael went to seat next to the young monk, the young monk gathered his gear and moved to one other table, so there were three persons on the hall, occupying three tables.

  When they finished, Michael asked Anastasios if this applied for all occasions, and he nodded that it was so, and that was the last time Michael attempted to sit next to someone during the meals.

  "Come, I will show you the bakery," said the young monk.

  They went to a building in the far end near a garden full of vegetables, the young monk opened a heavy wooden door, and they went in.

  What the rookie saw then was more than he had hoped for. There were bags of flour arranged in order, a big solid wooden table, and all the equipment needed for bread making. There was running water, and even a small machine for kneading. Michael was thrilled. He would be the baker for the entire monastery, he thought. He would be able to experiment and improvise and make the best bread in the world.

  But suddenly he thought, but where am I going to bake it?

  "Where is the oven?" he asked the young monk.

  "Come, I will show you," he said.

  They went around behind the building where there was a huge oven surrounded with tons of wood.

  When Michael saw it, he said... "I thought it was too good to be true."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I never baked in a wooden oven before; I don't even know how to light the fire, let alone the degree of heat and all this."

  "Don't worry, I can help you. Before the baker died, I used to come to help him sometimes, for he was weak. I know how to make the fire, and roughly when to put the bread in and when to pull them out."

  "Do you really? Ooh, I thank you so much!"

  "Tomorrow, I will ask the Geronda for me to come and help you instead going for Morning Prayer."

  "That is fantastic. I thank you so much. You can go now because I want to work out and rearrange a few things. I will see you later."

  The young monk left and Michael stood there alone, in his bakery. He was elated, and started to rearrange things. He checked the flour and he thought that the old monk certainly knew what he was doing. He spent about three hours cleaning the place up, and during that time some monks and the Geronda came to see what this stranger was up to.

  The Geronda was very satisfied, and although he would not say it, his whole face and eyes could not help showing it.

  Michael suddenly left the bakery and went around it to where the oven was. He
was engulfed by this beautiful scenery with the green of the garden, and the blue of the sea and the sky. He went back into the bakery, where there was a wall with not a window separating this beautiful scenery. If I only could open up a window here, he thought, then I would have the best bakery in the world.

  After lunch, he followed the path that led him down below to the beach. There was only a monk there, mending some nets. Michael greeted him, and he nodded back smilingly. There was a language barrier there, but as Michael was interested in what the monk was doing, it did not take too long to start some sort of communication between the two.

  What a wonderful opportunity, Michael thought, to learn fishing. I could become a real fisherman here...

  When the monk realized that the Michael meant business, and was not just a curious onlooker, he showed the rookie what to do, so he started to mend as well. The two were absorbed with mending the nets when Geronda, with another monk, came down to see a boat that needed to be repaired, and if it was worth doing it. He seldom came down the beach because of the steepness, but when he saw these two men absorbed in what they were doing, he was surprised. Could that be their visitor whom they'd left a while ago cleaning the bakery? The other monk assured him he was the same guy, and without interrupting them, they left.

  Just before dinner, Michael met with the Anastasios outside the dinner hall. He asked him about the fisherman, and the young monk said he was doing it as his main duty, whenever the weather allowed.

  "Do you think he can teach me to fish?" asked the rookie.

  "Sure, he will be glad to, but there is a problem."

  "What is that?"

  "By the time