Beautiful Day

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping. It was the perfect spring day in Greece (or so I thought).

It started out great. I had not a worry, not a care. There was no place I’d rather be than sitting in our fields watching my family’s goats. I mean, I guess I knew we were at war with the Persians, but that was so far away, and not connected with me at all. Except, my older brother was away fighting. He was never at home anyway, and since he’s twelve years older than me, he hardly knows I even exist. We aren’t close, so, accordingly, I didn’t really care where he was.

So, anyway, I was sitting out in the fields minding my own business when this man on horseback rides past like there’s no tomorrow. I watched him ride by, when I suddenly realized he was shouting something. Quickly, I ran closer, and as he passed I caught the words he was shouting. “The Persians are coming, the Persians are coming,” he cried as he rode past, heading toward Athens, of which we live just outside.

Now, this extremely odd occurrence surprised me, and so, since I’m the curious type, I ran home. I told Mother what happened and that I was going to walk to Athens to figure out what this meant. Then I yelled at my little brother to go watch the goats as I ran out the door.

Athens was alive with action. I mean, on a usual workday the place is astir, but this was unbelievable. It seemed that everybody was out on the streets talking about what had just happened. I tried to run straight to my uncle’s house to get the scoop, but, with this abnormal crowd, it took me twice as long as normal to get there. I even skirted the main streets and took several shortcuts through the alleys. By the time I reached my uncle’s red brick house I was out of breath, dirty, and sweaty. My uncle’s a politician, so I was sure he could tell me what was going on.

It turns out he wasn’t even home, so I had to run across town to my married cousin’s house, where my aunt thought my uncle was. When I reached my cousin’s house, I was so exhausted I practically collapsed in the doorway. I mean, I come from a family of great runners, but this was too much. Besides, my older brother’s the Olympic champ, not me.

Anyway, at my cousin’s house I was finally able to talk to my uncle. He told me that the man on horseback had brought news that the Persians and our own Athenians were going to be in combat tomorrow, twenty-six miles from Athens at a place called Marathon. If the Persians won, which they were sure to, they were going to proceed to Athens and probably take us all hostage or slaughter us. Our General requested fresh troops and, if the battle was lost, to have Athens burned to the ground at noon. This was to prevent the Persian scum from having the privilege of ransacking our town.

I hurried home as fast as I could to tell Mother the news. This could be a problem for our flocks, since we were probably going to have to leave Athens, and, with so many new babies, it would be very hard to travel with them. When I got home, Mother was sitting on the doorstep waiting for me. As I wheezed out my news, her face turned thoughtful. With both my father and brother at war, she had to be both man and lady of the house. The usual drill for war stuff like this is for everybody to pack themselves into Athens behind our sturdy walls, but, because it was going to be burned to the ground, the orders were to head for the hills this time around. That’s tough to do with a couple hundred goats, especially when they’re mostly pregnant females and new babies that can barely walk. After much deliberation, Mother decided to round up the goats and head for my uncle’s house to see what he thought we should do.

It was growing dark by the time I headed toward Athens with my family, our possessions, and the flocks for the second time that day. This time the streets were nearly deserted, so we had no trouble getting to uncle’s house. I guess everybody was packing up and getting ready to leave. We dropped our goats off at the marketplace. We have a couple of pens there for holding our goats while we sell them on market days. Then we proceeded to my uncle’s house.

After a long talk with my uncle, we decided to spend the night in Athens, and then leave the town the next morning with the majority of the villagers. The morning dawned bright and cheery, hardly a morning in which our beloved city would disappear in a smoldering heap of ashes. My mother and my brother left the town early in the morning with a few other herders to insure our flocks got a head start. I stayed to set fire to our house at noon, before following in their tracks. I couldn’t help but wonder, as I headed home to prepare, if we would ever return to Athens again.

I stacked all the firewood I could find against the sides of our house and barn, then watched the sun begin its last ascent over the Athens I knew and loved. It had almost reached its peak when I spotted a figure running as fast as it could toward me on the dusty road. I was too far away as it passed me to see who it was, but it looked like a war-weary soldier running for all he was worth to carry important news to Athens.

I left immediately and followed his disappearing silhouette down the road. The house could wait. There was still a little time before noon, and nobody would care if I were a few minutes late in setting it afire. I ran to Athens at top speed and reached the marketplace just in time to see the runner turn and address the crowd before collapsing in a heap. It was my older brother! He said just one word before fainting away. “Nike” or victory was his final word. We had defeated the Persians. Athens was safe.

As I recovered from this shock, I realized that a doctor was bending over my brother, and he wasn’t reacting in any way to the medical treatment. I edged my way to the front of the crowd just in time to hear the doctor tell my uncle, who had also just arrived, that it was hopeless. I nearly fainted away. We weren’t close friends, but still, that was my brother, and he was dead. He had saved Athens, but lost his life.

Mother, I thought all of a sudden, I’ve got to find Mother. Spurred on by this thought, I ran up to my uncle and asked him if I could borrow his horse to go fetch her. Without waiting for an answer I raced off to his stable. His best horse was already saddled in anticipation of the journey ahead, so I untied it from the post, jumped on its back, and spurred it into action.

Finally I caught up with my family as the daylight began to falter. They had made good time and it took longer than I had anticipated to reach them. I swung off the horse as my mother looked at me, a look of wonder on her face. I told her to brace herself before delivering the bad news. Her face went ashen, but she managed to stay calm as I boosted her onto the horse and told her I would take care of the flocks while she rode back.

I had a lot of time to think as we headed back. It took most of that time for the reality of what had happened to set in. We reached Athens just as the troops returned. The goats were returned to the marketplace pens before we once again headed to my uncle’s house, this time in mourning. People bowed their heads as we passed, and I could feel their pity radiating from them.

My father was at Uncle’s house by the time we arrived. He turned to look at me with red-rimmed eyes as I entered the room. I walked over and hugged him for what seemed like forever as we cried into each other’s shoulders. The way he hugged me back, like I was all he had left, told me what words could not express.

I know our family’s broken hearts will heal. One day we will be able to hold our heads up high again. For generations to come, we will be able to tell our descendants that our brother saved Athens from destruction. But in our hearts we will always wish that we’d never lived on that beautiful spring day.