Alex sat in the small enclosure, miserable. If this was what passed for hospitality in this place, he would hate to see what inhospitable behavior looked like.

The tiny adobe pen did not have a roof, but there was no way to get out without being able to untie the heavy vine ropes restricting the door’s ability to open. The walls were too high and slick to be scaled, and so he sat in the corner, irritated. If he’d had his rope, he might have escaped, but the women had searched him carefully and taken his whole entire backpack.

The rain had begun to pound down around three minutes after he had been thrown into the enclosure and by now, he was sopping wet, which only added to his misery.

“Hey! Anyone? Let me out!” He pleaded, banging futilely on the door. It’s no use! I can’t get out, and I’m going to be killed. I didn’t do anything. Please, Lord! Get me out of this. He silently prayed, desperate for help. He wasn’t a particularly religious person, but he was coming to believe that maybe he should have put more into his walk with his Savior. Then he might have had more consolation in this strange place.

He slid down into the mud when no one answered, rocking back and forth. He considered, for the fifth time since his enclosure here, trying to scale the walls. He even went so far as to try, but the adobe walls had been smoothed into a slick surface that was impossible to scale in good weather without a rope and nigh impossible in the rain.

He sank down, wiping rain from his face. He didn’t want to cry, but he couldn’t help letting a few tears trickle down his cheeks. This situation was horrific. At first, it might have been manageable. Alex had even believed he could handle it. But it was out of hand now, and he knew with a sinking feeling there was no way out if his captors didn’t give it to him. He wasn’t even sure if God could get him out of it. His prayers weren’t being answered with any sort of help or relief. Could God even hear him on another planet or wherever this terrible place was? Or could God only hear him when he was on Earth? “Well, it’s not as if I can do anything if He can’t. I’ll just have to trust that there’s a way out of this and that God will show me the way when it’s time. If He can.” Alex muttered, chucking a rock from the mud at the wall. It didn’t even dent the hard adobe and it splashed back into the puddles of water, spraying him with more mud and water. “Lovely.” He griped.

Determined to rest some, he walked over to a patch of sodden grass and laid down, trying to ignore the sponginess of his resting place. Eventually, he managed to fall asleep despite the pounding rain and his discomfort.

***

The next morning, sore and exhausted from a restless, uncomfortable night, Alex sat up in his prison. The door was sliding open.

The young woman from yesterday, Vasiliki if he recalled correctly, walked in. She smiled at him. “I̱ mi̱téra léei óti prépei na sas didáxei ti̱ gló̱ssa mas kai na sas voi̱thí̱sei na vreíte ton trópo na kathorísei to drómo éxo̱.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

She frowned. “Milás asteía , xénos.”

He shrugged. “I do not know what you are saying.” He repeated, speaking slowly.

She laughed. “Xéreis den boró̱ na sas katalávo̱. Étsi den eínai?” She grinned. “Fysiká kai óchi.”

Alex gave up. She didn’t understand what he was saying, and he couldn’t understand her. That was how it seemed it might stay.

Until she pointed at herself. “Vasiliki.” She pointed to him, cocking her head. “Boreíte?”

He frowned. She had just told him her name, and then she had pointed to him. What could she want? It dawned on him. “Oh, oh! You want my name.” He pointed to himself. “Alex.”

“Al…ex…” Vasiliki sounded it out, rolling it around her mouth. Then she laughed. “Alex.”

She pointed to the wall. “Toíchos.”

Alex frowned. He tapped the wall and repeated what she’d said slowly.

She nodded, smiling at him.

And so it went all morning. She taught him words for all sorts of things. He learned that he was called man-beast or monster - ánthro̱po - ktí̱nos or téras in their language, which, as he learned it, he found was Greek. It offended him that they would call him such, but Vasiliki showed him the men’s portion of their city. And he could see why they were called beasts.

They wore clothes that had been reduced nearly to rags. They were covered in grime for the most part and they all walked about with a rejected air. None of them looked up as Vasiliki passed them with him in tow.

He pointed to the men, horrified. Those poor people! Why would anyone do this to them? What purpose does it serve? This is horrendous. Don’t they understand that men are human too? Haltingly, he managed to form just one word. “Giatí?” Why?

Vasiliki turned to him. She went off into a tirade of Greek. Alex didn’t understand any of it, and he tried to slow her down so he could get the gist of it. But she didn’t slow until she stopped for breath.

He looked at her inquiring with his silence. Then he repeated his word. “Giatí?”

She glared at him. “Ánthropo-ktínos.”

He nodded. “Nai , allá giatí?” Yes, but why? He was at the limit of his restricted vocabulary. He had managed to pick up the few words, yes, but, and why from Vasiliki as she spoke and gestured, but he didn’t know enough common words to string much more together to explain his question.

She was apparently frustrated with him too. She glared at him again. “Den xéro̱.  Egó̱ den échoun pei se kanéna apó af̱tá.  Eínai i̱ epilogí̱ ti̱s mi̱téras mou , óchi dikó mou.  Zi̱tí̱ste ti̱s!”

He shook his head. Frustrated, he tried to tell her he couldn’t understand. But he couldn’t find the words. He really needed to teach her English. Maybe if she could learn his language, they would be better off. Resorting to the words he knew, he spoke again. “Ánthropo-ktínos.” He pointed at the dejected men walking around the men’s enclosure. “Giatí?” He pointed to himself. “Ánthropo-ktínos?”

She frowned. I never thought he might think I thought that he was a man-monster too. Now what? “Óchi, den boreíte. Eísai o so̱tí̱ras mas. Mas diéxodos!” Seeing that he didn’t comprehend her, she shook her head. “Óchi, Alex. Óchi ánthropo-ktínos.” No, Alex. Not man-beast.

He nodded. Pointing to them, he repeated again. “Giatí ánthropo-ktínos?” Gesturing to himself again, he slowly repeated her words. “Giatí óchi ánthropo-ktínos?” His pronunciation sounded so stilted. Frustrated, he tried to make his point clear by giving the men a questioning wave.

She cocked her head, frowning in concentration. “Epeidí̱.” She shrugged.

Alex gathered that she had just said something along the lines of “Because”.

Annoyed, he shook his head. The answer was not clear or sufficient for him. But there was no way to surmount the language barrier between them. “Vasiliki?”

She turned to him.

He fished for words. “Didásko̱?” Teach? He gestured expansively, trying to indicate that he wanted her to teach him more words.

She smiled, understanding his meaning. “Nai!” Yes!

He grinned back.

She pointed to herself. “Egó̱.” Then she pointed to him. “Eseís.”

He laughed, comprehending her meaning. She was telling him to say I and you. Pointing to her, he shook his head. “Óchi egó.”  Not I. Pointing at himself, he repeated her words. “Egó.” Pointing back to her, he said, “Eseís.”

She laughed. “Nai!” Yes!

He grinned, liking that she was laughing now instead of frowning. That was good. He needed to keep her laughing so that she wouldn’t be mad with him. If she was mad with him, she might punish him, and he wasn’t in a position to defend himself.

All through lunch, which Vasiliki ate with him, she taught him words and grammar. Alex found it hard work, but he enjoyed it too. He had always like languages, and he was generally good at them. Now it would stand him in good stead.