Free Black Butterflies by Sara Alexi Page A

hammock of her skirt stands a tiny kid that she is bottle-feeding. It sucks hungrily, pushing vigorously at the bottle, and the woman ’s stout arms brace in resistance. Her free hand helps the kid keep its balance, its little hooves tap-dancing in excitement, the woman’s skirt being tested for strength.
    ‘ Hello, how are things?’ Marina, up here so far from anything, leaves ceremony behind.
    ‘ Kalimera! Come help me feed the goat!’ The woman, not startled, beams happily and greets Marina as if she has known her all her life. There is no space for formality in these surroundings. It is a survival existence, everyone pulls together.
    ‘ I think I am more thirsty than your goats!’ Marina sits on a box next to the lady and takes the bottle and the baby goat, which bleats furiously at the interruption to its meal. The lady disappears into the dark of the hut. Marina puts her arm around the kid to stop it falling off her knee. The goat’s odour is pungent and not unpleasant. The woman reappears with a tin mug and a bottle of water, which she puts on the ground next to Marina, who is now struggling with the kid thrusting at the bottle, its spiky little hooves bruising her thighs.
    The bottle empties and the baby goat pushes and noses with even greater energy, its upright tail wiggling backwards and forwards at a frantic pace. Marina pulls the bottle from its reluctant mouth to stop the little mite gulping air. It bleats in protest. Marina lowers it to the ground and it skips and jumps about until the woman lifts it into a square pen with three other kids. They happily head-butt each other.
    ‘Done!’ she announces, and slaps both thighs as she sits back on her barrel.
    Marina is on her second mug of water.
    ‘So, are you out for a walk?’
    Marina finishes drinking and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand.
    ‘Yes, I felt the need to be away from people.’
    ‘ Naturally! I spend the winter months down there.’ The woman jerks her thumb towards the path down to the main town. ‘That’s enough for me. Trouble is, when I come up here my husband and son follow. There’s no peace!’ She chuckles.
    ‘ Now how would they be surviving without you?’
    ‘ Exactly! But I tell Yanni, my son, he should stay down in the summer. He won’t get any trade up here.’ As if on cue one of the donkeys bursts into a yodelling bray, drawing its call out at the end, thinning to nothing. The sound echoes down the hill.
    A man strides from the hut, tucking in his shirt.
    ‘Hello,’ Marina says. It takes her a minute to recognise Yanni from the port, with his hair all over his face.
    ‘ Eh?’ He pushes his hair back, and walks to one of the donkeys and strokes its nose before striding over to the wooden saddles behind them, and lifting one onto the larger donkey’s back.
    ‘ Well, he can have a little trade now if he’s going back down. I am exhausted. What do you say, Yanni? Give an old woman a lift down the hill?’ Marina giggles.
    ‘ Sure he will!’ A man hobbles out of the hut, pulling up his braces. ‘He’s a good lad, a bit moody, but good to his mother and me. Are you not, Yanni?’
    ‘ Nai , Baba .’ Yes, Dad. He saddles the second donkey and makes to leave. Marina sees an opportunity to ask him a few questions along the way if she accompanies him, but shies from his gruff attitude. She hopes it is not him that she is looking for.
    He walks towards the path, leading the first donkey, the second roped behind.
    ‘Yanni, give the lady a ride?’ The woman stands up from her barrel and puts a friendly hand on Marina’s shoulder.
    ‘ I’ll walk with you a little first, and when I can walk no more I’ll hop on!’ Marina addresses Yanni, and finds the mental picture of herself hopping onto a donkey amusing and giggles. Yanni sees no humour in the situation.
    ‘ As you like.’ He doesn’t look at her as he replies.
    ‘ Goodbye, then. Thank you for the water.’ Marina shakes the woman’s hand.
    ‘