Homer's Excellent Adventure

by P. J. Hoover

  Odysseus laughed, bold and full of confidence. “I am Odysseus. King of Ithaca. Hero of the Trojan War. And you, blind cyclops, are no match for me.”

  Dory put her head in her hand. “Seriously? Maybe he should just draw the cyclops a map.”

  “I may be no match for it,” Polyphemus shouted. “But Father is. Father will take care of it. Father will make it pay.”

  And the waves rose, making it abundantly clear who the cyclops’s dad was: none other than Poseidon, god of the sea. Polyphemus threw rocks at our ships, and the waves tossed us around. I was sure we were dead at least five times. But the guys were determined. They rowed and rowed, and we finally got a safe distance from the island.

  Odysseus strode up. Somewhere in the commotion, his yellow shirt had been torn once again, showing off his chest. “Well, that was close. But the worst is definitely behind us.”

  Good gods, this guy. I’d never seen someone so full of confidence, even in the eyes of a god’s vengeance.

  “Yep. The worst is definitely behind us.” He flexed his muscles a few times for good measure.

  I’d heard it before. I believed it less now than I had earlier. We were hosed. There was no getting around it. Making the gods mad was a really bad idea.

  THE RAINBOW SPARKLE CLUB

  THE GOOD NEWS WAS THAT I HADN’T EVEN HAD TO flip the hourglass once yet. It was still draining, but I had more than enough time. Time was flowing differently somehow. Like the guys were all getting shaggy, but my hair and fingernails hadn’t grown even a speck. Neither had Dory’s. Whatever Hermes had done to the hourglass, time was in our favor. So, I didn’t mind the fact that we drifted on the ships for a while.

  Dory got super creative for mealtime and taught a bunch of the guys to fish. I continued teaching her to read and write, all the while going back through the story, adding little details here and there. The colors of the lotus flowers (aubergine and emerald, which are really just fancy names for purple and green). The weather on Ismaros (dreary and dismal). The infernal sea that stretched in front of us.

  “Infernal is a good word,” Dory said. She used the golden paint to draw on the walls of the storage room, writing out each letter.

  “You think so?” I’d been about to scratch it out since it kind of conjured up a fiery image in my mind.

  “Sure,” Dory said. “It’s like irritating, tiresome, hellish.”

  That did fit the sea pretty well. We’d been rowing in circles for days. The bright blue sails, not quite as bright as they’d been before, hung limp in the air.

  “We need wind,” Odysseus said, stomping across the deck. He’d been doing that more and more as the days went by. The men kept their distance.

  “There is no wind,” Eurylochus said in his whiny weasel voice. The more I hung around him, the more he reminded me of Demetrios from back at school, like they both thought they were better than everyone else. It was almost like there was a special training class snobby people went to in order to get better at being snobs.

  “That is apparent and thus unnecessary for you to point out,” Odysseus said. “Which is why I stated that we need wind. A simple fact. And unless you have a solution to the simple fact that we need wind, then I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”

  Odysseus was not a hothead. This was about the closest he came to actually fighting with anyone on board.

  Eurylochus stepped back. He wasn’t a complete idiot. At least not all the time. “Of course, great King Odysseus. But we should have wind. It’s not right. Something is giving us bad luck.”

  I forced myself not to look at Dory. If anyone found out she was a girl, they’d blame her for our lack of wind for sure. Girls on ships definitely equaled bad luck.

  “Bard, where do I get wind?” Odysseus said.

  There was plenty of wind onboard since we’d been eating a ton of stored beans, but I kept my sarcastic thoughts to myself.

  “I’m not sure.” I almost answered him in Dactylic Hexameter out of habit except then I remembered at the last minute that it kind of annoyed Odysseus.

  “Not sure?” Odysseus said. “Have you told no great stories of men and wind before?”

  The only stories I’d told of men and wind were stupid jokes that I knew Odysseus would not find humorous right now. I sifted through my memories from back in school, wishing I’d stayed awake for more of the boring lectures Elder Pachis insisted were important. There’d been lectures on math and science of course, but also other lectures, like about all the different gods and what they protected.

  I put my hand up because something tickled the back of my brain. “There’s a god of wind,” I said. “No, that’s not quite right. There is a Keeper of Wind. Yes, the Keeper of the Winds. What’s his name? It has like a million vowels in it.”

  “Aeolus,” Polites said, limping over to join us. “But I’ve heard he’s pretty stingy when it comes to protecting the wind. Doesn’t like to part with it.”

  Odysseus waved his hand as if this last part was of little consequence. “We’ll deal with that when the time comes.”

  What this meant was that Odysseus would try to steal the wind from Aeolus if he didn’t give us any. Just like back on Ismaros.

  “How do we find this Keeper of the Wind?” Odysseus said.

  Little bits and pieces of the lore started coming back to me, almost like Elder Pachis was next to me, whispering in my ear.

  “Oh, I know,” I said. “We look for the floating island of Aeolia.”

  “Floating island.” Odysseus narrowed his eyes. “There is a lot of sky. How would we find a floating island?”

  Polites pointed to his good eye. “I can spot it. I can spot anything.”

  “But how will you know where to look, man?” Odysseus said. I could tell from the edge of hope that crept into his voice that he wanted to believe Polites and he wanted to believe me.

  “Gods love when you pray to them,” Dory said. “Also offerings. Gods love offerings. So, we make a couple offerings—oh, but not food; we’re short on food.”

  Odysseus looked closer at Dory. I held my breath, sure at any second every single person on board would realize Dory was a girl.

  If Odysseus had any clue, he didn’t let on.

  “Prayers and offerings,” Odysseus said. “We can do that. Men, we pray!”

  So, the guys all prayed, and we cut open a bunch of pillows and threw the feathers into the sky. And on the second day, Polites spotted the floating island.

  It hung in the clouds above us, like a cloud itself, with golden ladders made of silk rope hanging down. Odysseus took these ladders to be a good sign. An invitation. He ordered the anchoring of all twelve ships, and then we climbed up the long ladders to the floating island. It took a little convincing for me to get Dory to climb, especially once we were halfway up, since she didn’t seem to do so well with heights, but then the wind started blowing and swinging the ladders back and forth which helped convince her to keep moving.

  Steep cliffs made completely of bronze surrounded the island, but even these had ladders, as if whoever lived up above—I was really hoping it was Aeolus at this point—was happy to have guests come visit.

  So, we climbed some more ladders until we got to the top of the bronze cliffs. And there, like something out of a fairy tale, sat an enormous palace made of the same bronze.

  “Men, we’re in the right place,” Odysseus said, and then he strode forward, making it abundantly clear that he, of all the guys, was in charge. Dory and I hurried up next to him. I got these kinds of special privileges since I’d promised to make him famous. Not that I got this fame thing. Why did everyone want to be famous? I found pleasure in knowing that after I died, no one would remember my name.

  As we got closer to the palace, the drawbridge lowered, and the gate opened. A huge bunch of kids came running out. They all looked like they were about the same age as Dory and me, half were guys, half were girls, they sported every skin color from pitch black to albino, and they were d
ressed in togas the colors of the rainbow. That actually made it pretty easy. There was a guy and a girl in red, a guy and a girl in orange, and so on all the way through purple.

  “Visitors!” the girl in the yellow toga squealed, and she clapped her hands together like we were the most exciting thing to happen around here in years.

  “Visitors!” the others all echoed.

  “My name is King Odysseus,” Odysseus said. “I’ve come to speak with Aeolus, Keeper of the Winds.”

  On cue, one of our guys let out a huge fart that ripped through the air.

  All twelve kids started giggling. Fourteen if you counted me and Dory.

  “Dory and me,” Dory said. “When are you going to get that right?”

  “It’s tricky,” I said.

  “You’re not trying, Homer,” Dory said, but I waved away her comment.

  “Dad! Some king is here to see you!” the girl in blue hollered in a voice so loud, I wanted to cover my ears. It floated through the air, almost like the sound itself was alive.

  Odysseus raised an eyebrow, just barely. Some king. He probably didn’t like that very much. But Aeolus was a god, and thankfully Odysseus kept his mouth shut.

  Their dad must’ve heard, because he came striding out the main gate with a huge grin on his face. He looked older than Elder Pachis which, until this very moment, I’d thought was impossible.

  “Odysseus. King of Ithaca! How wonderful of you to visit my humble island,” the guy said. It didn’t take a genius to put one and one together. This old geezer was Aeolus, Keeper of the Winds.

  “We prayed to find your island,” Odysseus said. “We—”

  But Aeolus cut him off. “Not yet. Not yet. We must save the story.”

  “But we need—” Odysseus started again.

  “Food,” Aeolus said. “You need food. And I have food.”

  At that, all the guys let out an uproarious cheer since we’d been eating nothing but eel for the last five days. Aeolus stepped aside and let them file into the palace. Me, Dory, and Polites stood aside.

  “Dory, Polites, and I,” Dory said.

  I put up my hand. “No more. I’ll fix it later.” I wanted to get the story out. There would be plenty of time to revise it once it was done.

  “You think it’s safe in there?” I asked Polites. I didn’t want to risk losing my scroll yet again. I’d already had two close calls.

  Polites narrowed his good eye. “How about I go in and check it out? You stay here, and I’ll come get you.”

  “No way, dude,” the boy in green said, stepping forward. “They can hang with us while you old people talk.”

  That actually sounded way better than listening to a bunch of boring grown-up talk.

  Polites looked them once over and then must’ve decided that the twelve kids looked harmless enough. “Holler if you need me. I’ll find you.” And then he followed behind the guys who’d just about all made it through into the palace.

  “I’m Homer,” I said, giving him a small little bow. Is that what you did for gods? Bow to them? Were these kids gods? They looked like some kind of rainbow sparkle club.

  “I’m Dory,” Dory said. “Short for Doryclus.”

  The blue boy frowned. “That’s a boy’s name.”

  “So what?” Dory said and put her hands on her hips like she was daring him to say anything else about it.

  “No worries, little dudette,” the blue boy said. “We’re casual here on Aeolia. I’m Alpha, and these are my brothers and sisters. Beta. Gamma. Delta. Epsilon.” He continued through the alphabet all the way to Lambda, pointing at each brother and sister in turn. I wasn’t sure I’d remember who was who, but at least I’d remember the names.

  “You guys hungry?” Beta said, stepping forward. She was the girl in red, and, okay, I know I shouldn’t be thinking about stuff like this, but she was super cute. She had really dark skin and dark brown eyes and curly hair with light ends that seemed to catch the sunlight, and she had a smile that made my insides melt.

  “We’re really hungry,” I managed to say.

  Dory elbowed me.

  “Come on, then,” Gamma, the guy in orange, said. “Follow us.”

  So, we followed them into the palace. I checked around but didn’t see Odysseus and his men anywhere. The kids led us to a great big atrium with a ton of chairs and big fire pits and plants and some contraption that a few of them kicked their sandals off and started bouncing on.

  “Cool place,” I said. The farm where Mom and I lived was nothing like this. Sure, I goofed around plenty at home, but it was mostly climbing olive trees and hiding out in the barn when it was time for cleaning up after the chickens.

  We sat around and told stories and joked about breaking wind. And we grilled fluffy sugary lumps that melted in my mouth when I ate them. And even when night came, we stayed up late because I hadn’t had such a good time since this whole adventure began. Beta sat super close to me and laughed at all my jokes. Which was totally cool. What wasn’t so cool was that Alpha sat equally close to Dory. So, I scooted away from Beta and closer to Dory.

  I asked about Odysseus the next morning.

  Epsilon shook his head. “Our dad is the slowest man in the universe. They’ll be negotiating for weeks.”

  “Weeks!” I said. “Are you kidding? I have to get this story back to Elder Pachis like yesterday.” I held up the hourglass, showing how little sand was left in it. I’d probably have to flip it in the next day or two, but they didn’t know that I still had nine more rotations before it was due.

  Beta placed her hand on my arm, and it kind of made me feel all goofy inside. “But your story’s not done.”

  I unrolled the scroll, showing off all the words that I’d written. “What are you talking about? My story’s way done. Everything I’m adding now is just a bonus.”

  She leaned over and looked at the words, reading them slowly. After a few minutes, she looked up. “Where’s the climax? How does the story end?”

  “Well, the Greeks won the war. With the horse. See, right here.” I pointed to the tiny picture I’d drawn to go along with the words.

  “That’s not the end,” she said. “Odysseus isn’t home yet.”

  “That’s not my problem,” I said. “I didn’t sign on to write some bibliography about his royal highness.”

  “Biography,” Dory said.

  “Whatever,” I said. “That’s not my job.”

  “You’re wrong, Homer,” Beta said.

  I wanted to disagree, except she was really cute and I kind of liked her, so I just shrugged and said, “Maybe.”

  “But anyway, what you have so far is really good,” she said. “You’re a great writer.”

  I laughed aloud even though her words made me all warm inside. “Yeah, whatever.”

  “No, I’m serious,” Beta said. “In fact, we should go show this to my dad.”

  Of course, her eleven brothers and sisters all agreed with her, so they dragged me and Dory back into the palace, down about fifty corridors painted in rainbow colors, until we came to a room where Odysseus sat with Aeolus.

  Things were not going well. Odysseus had his head in his hands as if he were trying to hold all his frustrations inside.

  “Dad,” Beta said. “Homer is a storyteller.”

  Aeolus’ eyes immediately perked up. “A storyteller?”

  She nodded, her eyes wide. “I read his story. It’s really great. You should hear it.”

  Which is how I got roped in to telling him story after story after story. I read from the scroll first—making sure to edit out the parts about Dory being a girl. And when I finished reading and our stories had come to an end, he asked for more. So, I started telling stories of the gods. And when those ran out, I started making stuff up. Stories about cyclops romances. Lotus Eater fight clubs. I spun the stories out of control, sure he’d call me out on them and demand to have my head cut off or something like that. But Aeolus and all twelve kids hung on my every word. They
laughed until they cried, and they cried until I made them laugh again. I wanted to do this forever.

  “Yes! Wonderful!” Aeolus cried. “You have given me stories like none I have ever heard before. And for this I am eternally in your debt.”

  Now that made Odysseus smile. And the negotiations went great from there. Sure, an entire month went by, but at the end of the month, we had provisions for the boat and a bag holding back all the winds that we didn’t want.

  “Take this bag, King Odysseus,” Aeolus said. “And keep it tightly closed. Only the westward wind is not trapped inside. So long as you keep the bag closed, that westward wind will bring you home.”

  Home would be good. I was definitely ready to get to Ithaca then back to Ionia and be done with this entire journey.

  “I’ll miss you,” Beta said, and she leaned forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  I must’ve turned the color of a poppy. But it left me smiling the entire trek back down the ladders and to the ships.

  “Nobody opens this bag,” Odysseus said, holding it high for all the guys to see.

  “Does it have mead in it?” the guy we called Rum said.

  “No mead,” Odysseus said.

  “Then don’t worry,” Rum said. “We won’t touch it.”

  Then the westward wind started blowing. The ships began to rock on the sea. We raised our anchors, dropped our sails, and set our course for Ithaca.

  SKELETONS IN THE CLOSET

  EURYLOCHUS WAS BEHIND IT. I KNOW HE WAS. IT was just one more way for him to cause dissent among the guys in the hope that they’d revolt against Odysseus and maybe put him in charge. He started telling the guys that there was gold inside the bag. Which was not true. There was a bunch of wind. A worthless bag full of wind. And even if there was gold, it’s not like the bag was all that big. I guess that’s what made it easy to steal.

  Whoever it was waited until we’d sailed for nearly a week. And then, while everyone slept, somebody stole the bag from Odysseus. I wasn’t awake, of course. I was peacefully sleeping in the storage room with my head on a bag of grain, listening to the wind in the sails and the water lapping up against the side of the ship, but I could almost imagine that person grinning with glee once they got the bag. Then they took it to a far corner of the deck and opened it.