The August heat clung to Athens like a wet rag. Myrto Zervou fanned herself with yesterday’s newspaper, perched on her balcony, watching the Kaisariani streets simmer below. Her son, Aris, sanded a wooden chair leg in the living room, the rhythmic scrape-scrape-scrape grating on her nerves.
“Ari, for the love of Saint Basil, stop that noise,” she called. “You’ll scare off the cats.”
Aris grinned, wiping sawdust from his brow. “Better the cats than the neighbors, Mama.”
Before she could retort, a commotion erupted downstairs, shouting, scuffling. Myrto leaned over the railing. Outside the corner kiosk, two policemen had cornered a young woman in a short sundress, her dark curls bouncing as she twisted away.
“Indecent clothing!” one cop barked, grabbing her wrist. “You’re coming to the station.”
The girl, Myrto recognized her as Eleni, the new waitress at the café yanked back. “It’s forty degrees! What am I supposed to wear, a fur coat?”
Myrto’s lips pursed. Foreign nonsense. She’d seen this before, cops flexing their power over women, especially those who didn’t fit their idea of “proper.”
“Ari!” she barked. “Get my bag.”
Aris groaned. “Mama, no...”
“Now!”
* * * * * *
Minutes later, Myrto hobbled onto the pavement, her black dress swishing like a storm cloud. The cops stiffened at her approach.
“Officers,” she said sweetly, “you look thirsty. Why not let the girl go and have a coffee instead?”
The taller cop scowled. “This doesn’t concern you, yiayá.”
“Everything here concerns me.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Especially when certain officers forget their paychecks come from our taxes.”
Eleni gaped. The cops exchanged glances.
The shorter one coughed. “We’re upholding public decency.”
Myrto laughed a sharp, knowing sound. “Decency? Like when you took bribes from the butcher last week to ignore his expired meat?”
The taller cop paled. “That’s ...that’s slander!”
“Is it?” Myrto patted her handbag. “Or is it in my little notebook, ready for the captain?”
Silence. A bead of sweat rolled down the cop’s temple.
Finally, he released Eleni. “Fine. But next time, dress respectably.”
As they slunk off, Eleni exhaled. “Thank you, Kyria Myrto.”
Myrto waved a hand. “Bah. Men who police skirts have tiny brains and even tinier...”
“Mama!” Aris hissed.
She smirked. “Come, korítsi. Let’s get you a frappé. And maybe a longer dress for their sake, not yours.”
As they walked, Aris muttered, “One day, you’ll get us arrested.”
Myrto adjusted her black headscarf. “Then I’ll solve that mystery too.”
The End
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