Nothing you could do about it. We’d hear the dog barking at night and we’d tremble. In the spring we’d go outside and sleep five hundred meters from the storage shed. A thousand meters, in any old hole. My old man was afraid someone would come and arrest him. Mostly he was afraid of that Vasílis Tóyias. He was mean as they come. A diehard Communist. Some time later on they got him from Mesorráhi and took him to Kastrí. To Mángas’s place. For an interrogation, they told him. Anyone went there for an interrogation never came back. They got him and took him to Mángas’s place. Velissáris was there, and Mavromantilás. Vasílis, what are you doing here? Vasílis was older by then. Maybe forty-five. He pointed at Tóyias. The kapetánios brought me here, he says. You? Yes, me. Go to Doúmos’s place, and we’ll let you know when you can leave. They sent him to Doúmos’s place so the others wouldn’t see him hanging around the square. Okay, I’ll leave, but I want a permit.
