Koulourakia
By mid-morning on Tuesday, February 4, 2003, Nina Pagonis was running about 20 minutes behind, which didn’t concern her much because the people sitting in her office were the kind of people who would wait. Nina’s assistant always showed her visitors into the non-private part of the office at precisely the moment of their appointments, whether or not Nina herself was in the building. It was simply good manners. If it proved a bit disorienting to some of her guests, well that could be useful, too.
When Nina finally did arrive that morning, her assistant told her there was a couple waiting for her inside.
“A man and a woman. Regarding the treatment you took home last night.”
“Which one?” said Nina.
“The Meek Shall Inherit,” said her assistant.
“Oh, good,” said Nina. “The one about Bertha of Savoy. Have you read it?”
“Twice,” said her assistant. “Very juicy. It might be what we’re looking for.”
“Think so?” said Nina.
“It’s just strange enough. Strange, but juicy. Much stranger than these two.”
“What are they like?”
“Salesmen. Used cars.”
“Hmm,” said Nina. “Did you mention that we’re developing a medieval project?”
“If I knew of such a thing,” said her assistant, “Never would I speak of it.”
Nina smiled at his offended face. “Good,” she said. “Could you put these on a nice plate?”
A few moments later, full of energy and solicitude, Nina strode into her office, bearing a plate of Greek cookies.
“It’s Renee, right? And you must be Bradley! Do you have enough water? Coffee? You must try one of these—we call them koulourakia—it’s a kind of Greek biscotti—I found a little bakery that makes them just the way—”
But just then, Nina’s cell phone buzzed. She looked at it. The doctor. Her mother’s doctor. Nina took the call.
The doctor told her the time had come for a tracheotomy. Just to make her mother more comfortable.
Nina told the doctor to slow down. She demanded more details. As she talked, pacing behind her desk, the couple chewed their koulourakia and pretended not to listen. The doctor explained the difference between a tracheotomy, the surgical procedure, and a tracheostomy, the resulting... passageway. It all sounded horrible to Nina: a hole in her mother’s neck. She knew how much her mother would hate the idea of this procedure, how vigorously she would protest, if she didn’t have tubes down her throat. But that was the point: her mother was intubated, she couldn’t talk. Nina asked if this was a desperate measure, just something to needlessly prolong....
She trailed off. No, said the doctor, not at all, it’s very routine, we’ll get through this episode, your mother will be much more comfortable. After a few more questions, Nina gave her approval.
She closed her phone and apologized to her visitors. “Sorry, I had to take that. My mother’s in the ICU. I.... Well, I’m the one who…. You know, power of attorney.”
It occurred to Nina, as she sat down and gathered herself together, that even though the phone call was very real, it also worked as a kind of performance. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to enter every meeting talking about surgery. Making tough decisions about life and death.
Next episode: Maximillianstraße: The Imperial Family
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