“I’m great.” I settle my hand over his, interweaving our fingers. “I can’t wait to see Kostos’s supply.”
He grunts. By now, I know James well enough to interpret his grunts. Just now, he was informing me that even thoughI didn’t answer his underlying question, he was generously choosing to let it go.
Kostos emerges with two large wooden cases, like overlarge briefcases. I wonder again that a man so skinny has such wiry strength. He sets the cases down on a table and opens the first one.
“Spessartine garnet,” he says, gesturing to the rough-cut stones. “We have a small vein in our quarry here. Our stones are lighter than most, almost more yellow than orange.”
“They’re stunning.” I sigh. They really are, holding a sunshiny brilliance even without being polished. I know garnet is relatively hard, and I’m grateful to know I’ve got an industrial crusher being installed. “Can I touch them?”
“Of course!” Kostos beams.
I reach for a fist-sized, bumpy stone. As I hold it up to the light, the color shifts dimly, like flowing honey. “How do you extract it?” I ask.
“We begin with a chisel. It can take hours to make sure we don’t accidentally break up the stone. When it’s as dislodged as we can get it, we use a gentle acid to break away any stubborn pieces.”
“How many hours went into extracting this?” I raise the stone in my hand, and Kostos chuckles.
“Perhaps two days? It would be less, if the stone weren’t so large. Smaller gems are much easier to separate. If we had any veins we were currently mining, I would show you. But alas…”
“No, seeing these is enough.” I lay the large stone back in the case, then trace my fingers over the others. They’re smooth and cool. I almost feel a little guilty about how much I want to smash these carefully extracted stones to smithereens.
When I’m finished admiring the garnet, Kostos sets the case to the side. “Now this stone is what we are most known for. Greek porphyry.”
My stomach alights with butterflies. Here's the stone I was most eager to see. I saw a small piece in a museum several years ago, and I've been on the hunt for more ever since. My leg shakes with excitement, something I only noticed when James squeezes my knee comfortingly.
I gasp audibly as Kostos opens the lid. The stone lies in large rectangular blocks, larger and smoother than the garnet. The stone is speckled with leafy hues, minty spring green and dark forest green. A small flat rock is in my hand before I even realize I'm reaching for it. Beside me, James chuckles.
“I've never seen you so enamored,” he says. “Should I be jealous?”
“Yes. I’m leaving you for this rock.” I feel the cool, smooth stone. I wonder if there's a way to preserve the shapes in the rock before I put it on a canvas. Maybe I could cut it into shards, or use a laser to cut ultra-thin pieces. I'll probably only be able to get a few pieces to bring home, so I'll have to be extra careful how I use them.
“We'll take them all,” James declares.
Or not.
“We can’t take them all!” I gasp.
“Why not?” His blue eyes capture mine. “You like them. Money’s not an issue.”
“We can’t just wipe out Kostos’s whole supply!”
The guide clears his throat. “We extract the stones so we can sell them,” he says. “I'd be happy to see them go to someone who appreciates them so much.”
“I'm going to destroy them,” I blurt out, feeling the need to confess. “I'm a painter, and I use ground up stones in my work. I understand if you disapprove.”
Kostos chuckles. “What is there for me to disapprove of? It's no different from you using it for jewelry. You are taking the stone to make something beautiful. Take it. Enjoy it.”
“Thank you.” My voice catches in my throat. The gratitude I feel is almost overwhelming. Now that I've seen the work it takes to reach these stones, having Kostos’s approval feels invaluable.
While James and Kostos discuss payment and shipping, I run my fingers over the stones again. I’m fixated on the porphyry. The green is just so vital and alive. I can't wait to experiment with it and see what I can create.
The sun hangs lower in the sky as we start the hike back to our car. The heat is even higher now, and the breeze has kicked up, swirling dust in our faces. Even though we're going downhill, my body is still miserable. I glance out at the sea, taking in the white sailboats. I wish I were on one of those boats, with cool air and sea spray in my face.
I wish I could just sit down. That would be enough right now.
I focus my eyes on James’s back just ahead of me. If I fall, at least I’ll fall into him. I can't imagine that my weight would be able to dislodge him.
A gust of wind sends more dust into my face, and I cough. Drawing breath is already hard enough. I don't need this making it worse. With every step, my body feels heavier. My sneakers feel like cement boots.
