Homer's Excellent Adventure

by P. J. Hoover

  “Are you getting all this, Homer?” Dory asked.

  I scribbled on the scroll, making notes that I’d fill in later.

  “Do we bag some venison?” one guy we called Pork asked. In all fairness, he’d lost a ton of weight since we started the journey. Next to him, Ear nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

  Eurylochus put up a hand. “Not yet. Let’s use caution and see what we find on this island. I feel strange magic in the air.”

  It was maybe the most sensible thing I’d ever heard Eurylochus say. I guess without Odysseus right here next to him, he didn’t have to worry about trying to outdo the king. But I was glad he wanted caution. Something floated through the air that made me feel like I’d fallen into a world crafted of fantasy. Something that made my skin tingle.

  We pushed forward from the beach and into the trees. The animals loped all around us, some following behind, some nearly leading us. All the while Dory made her own notes on a scrap of smooth wood she’d turned into an erasable board.

  “There’s fruit. And honey. And vegetables,” she said, writing it all down. “And these animals. Which ones do you think would taste the best?”

  I swear half the animals looked her way, almost like they understood her words. Except that was completely ridiculous. Animals might be smart, but they didn’t know Greek from Pig Latin.

  “Antelope?” I said. I didn’t really know. I’d grown up with farm animals like chickens and cows which made up the bulk of my meat.

  Dory wrote antelope down on her list and underlined it.

  “Your handwriting is really getting good,” I said.

  “My handwriting is better than yours now,” she said.

  I didn’t argue because in the last months, I’d learned that arguing with Dory never resulted in victory.

  “You see that through the trees,” Pork said to Eurylochus, pointing.

  Eurylochus stopped walking. “I see it. A building.”

  “A palace. They’re gonna have some good grub,” Pork said, and he ran forward before anyone could stop him.

  “Pork, come back,” Eurylochus hissed, but it was no use. Pork had disappeared through the trees.

  We waited, held our breath, inched forward, until finally his voice drifted back through the trees.

  “You guys have to see this,” Pork called.

  “Caution,” Eurylochus said, and the guys moved forward.

  We came out of the trees into a garden with flowers and bees and animals and grass so green it looked like sparkling jewels. Across the green grass was the palace, crafted entirely of crystal, like something out of a fairy tale. In front of the palace stood Pork next to a woman with pale skin who didn’t have nearly enough clothes on, and what she did have on were kind of a little see-through. A lot see-through. Her long blond hair hung over her shoulder, covering some of her up, but not enough to keep me from blushing furiously. Her pale hand rested on Pork’s head, and he stared at her like she was some sort of angel sent to rescue him.

  “What brings ya here?” the woman said, drawling the words while at the same time running them all together.

  Eurylochus took charge, stepping forward. A giant wolf flanked him, but he ignored it.

  “We’ve come for food and rest,” he said. “Stopping by on our way home to Ithaca.”

  “Pretty far from Ithaca, aren’t ya?” the woman said.

  I cringed. I was glad Odysseus wasn’t here to hear that.

  “We got a little lost,” Eurylochus said. “Our king doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

  I cringed more at this. Odysseus would cut out Eurylochus’ tongue for that kind of insult.

  “Is that so? Well maybe I can help ya find the way,” the woman said. “And if ya know the way, then maybe ya don’t need this king of yours after all.”

  Caution slipped from Eurylochus’ face at this. The temptation of knowing more than Odysseus was more than he could handle.

  “My name is Circe. C-I-R-C-E. This is my island, Aeaea. A-E-A-E-A.” She saw me writing which is I guess why she spelled them out. “Come on in. I got sandwiches and snacks and drinks for ya all. And while ya eat, we can talk about getting ya back to Ithaca.”

  The fact that she’d heard of it made me hopeful that she could help. Also sandwiches and snacks sounded pretty tasty. We all started for the crystal palace. But Circe stopped and put up a hand.

  “Nope. No way. No kids,” she said.

  “But I’m not a kid,” I said, even though saying it made me sound like more of a kid.

  “Not gonna happen,” she said, but then I guess she saw the disappointment on our faces. Or maybe she heard my stomach rumble. “Tell ya what. Ya two little ones just sit on down right out here. I’ll have the servants bring ya some sandwiches.”

  “And snacks?” I said.

  “And snacks.”

  So, Dory and I sat on a nearby bench while the guys filed inside.

  No sooner were they out of sight, I ran for a window.

  “You’re not going in,” Dory said.

  “No. But I’m going to spy on them,” I said. “How else will I know what’s going on? It’s not like Eurylochus is going to give me the truth. Did you hear that? He as good as declared mutiny.”

  “Yeah, we need to tell Odysseus about that,” Dory said, joining me at the window. “That’s totally not cool.”

  The good thing about a palace made of crystal was that even though I couldn’t see through it like a window, I could follow shapes and movement. I was able to see where Circe and the guys went, and once they settled down, I found the nearest window and discreetly peeked through.

  “I wonder what the best way to cook antelope is,” Dory said, watching the herds of animals roaming around.

  “You ever cook pork?” I said, looking over at a nearby pen where a couple pink pigs rolled around in the mud. It was a pretty big pigpen. I was surprised Circe didn’t have more than two pigs.

  “All the time, Homer,” Dory said. “Didn’t you come by the food truck that time I made those pork dumplings?”

  I almost felt the juice running down my chin from the memories. “How could I forget?”

  “You know girls have way better memories than guys,” Dory said.

  “That’s so not true.”

  “And hearing,” Dory said. “Girls also have way better hearing.”

  “So, what are they saying in there?” I asked. I wasn’t about to admit that she was right, but I couldn’t make out a single word.

  Dory shook her head. “No clue.”

  Still, the view was perfect. Circe sat at the head of a long table, and all twenty-two guys sat around. No, scratch that. There were only twenty-one guys. Eurylochus was nowhere to be found.

  As we watched, platters of food magically appeared. The men jumped back in surprise, but I guess the magic wasn’t enough to compete with their growling tummies. They loaded their plates with sandwiches and chips—even Polites who sat at the opposite end of the table from Circe—and they filled their cups with wine, spilling it over onto the table as they poured. Circe watched them and smiled, motioning for them to take more. They devoured the food.

  It was then that I spotted Eurylochus, way off to the side, outside the room, hiding behind a crystal column, peeking in. Maybe he didn’t like sandwiches. Not that sailors could be particular about that kind of stuff. Months on a ship had taught me that you eat whatever’s put in front of you.

  Dory yanked on my sleeve. “Homer.”

  “What?”

  She yanked again. “I thought there were only two pigs.”

  “There are,” I said.

  “No. There’s a whole bunch.”

  I zipped my head around to look at the pigpen. Dory was right. It was crammed with pigs now. Pigs of all colors and sizes that dug in the dirt and rolled around on their backs and made cute little pig noises.

  Shouts from inside the crystal palace drew my attention back.

  The chairs around the table were now empty,
all except for where Circe sat at the head of the table. The glasses were overturned. Circe picked the bread off a sandwich and ate the insides.

  “Witch! Witch!” Eurylochus shouted and then ran from his hiding spot, dashing from the doorway and through the crystal palace and outside. He didn’t stop or look around for us or anything. Instead, he ran back into the woods, toward the ship.

  “Do we follow him?” Dory asked, glancing back through the window. Circe, who’d been there only moments before, was gone.

  “What about the guys?” I said. “Where are they?” I expected them to run out of the palace at any second, just like Eurylochus, but there was still no sign of them.

  “We should look for them,” Dory said.

  “We should tell Odysseus first.”

  So, we ran after Eurylochus through the woods to the beach. Eurylochus was just pushing the boat out into the water.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Dory said.

  “She turned them into swine! Even Pork. She turned them into pigs,” Eurylochus said. His eyes were wild and unfocused. He was trying to mess with the oars but not having much success, so Dory and I took over. He babbled the entire time we rowed.

  Once we got back to the ship, after a good ten minutes of more nonsense babble, Eurylochus managed to tell Odysseus what had happened.

  “She’s a witch,” Eurylochus said. “We need to leave this place immediately.”

  But Odysseus shook his head. “Not without my men.”

  “Your men are pigs,” Eurylochus said. “Pork and Polites and Elpenor. And Ear. He was the first. They’re all pigs. They’re all lost.”

  “No, they’re not,” Odysseus said. “We’ve lost too many already. We aren’t going to lose any more.”

  “Then you’re going without me,” Eurylochus said.

  “Wrong,” Odysseus said. “You’ll lead me.”

  Imagine a bunch more back and forth here between the two of them. Suffice it to say that Eurylochus finally gave in. So, we got back into the small boat and rowed to the island. The animals rubbed against us just like before, but now, after seeing what had happened to our guys, I had to wonder if these were animals in the first place. They could be like our guys, humans turned into antelopes and wolves.

  Once Eurylochus pointed the way, Odysseus took the lead, pushing through the forest. He held his sword in front of him, ready to strike down the witch. But instead of coming to the garden with the crystal palace, we wound up in a clearing in the middle of the trees. And there, standing in the middle of the clearing, was none other than Hermes himself.

  STRANGE BREW

  “SEND US BACK!” I SAID, RUNNING FORWARD. THIS was it. Our chance to get back to Ionia. I had the story. I could leave anytime. No matter what Beta said, I didn’t need to stick around until Odysseus got home. But Hermes didn’t even cast me a second glance.

  “Odysseus, man, you are heading into serious danger,” Hermes said. “You know that, right?”

  “Step aside, god,” Odysseus said, puffing out his chest in his pristine yellow tunic. “You can’t stop me.”

  I held up the scroll, trying again. When I got Hermes’ attention, I was going to let him know exactly all the thoughts running through my mind. The gods. I can’t believe he’d sent us here. We’d been gone forever.

  “Did I say I was going to stop you?” Hermes said, turning his silly winged hat around on his head until it faced backward. The wings, oddly enough, stayed facing forward.

  “Some words don’t need to be spoken,” Odysseus said. “And I’m not willing to lose more men. Now step aside and let us pass.”

  “You’ll fall under her spell,” Hermes said. “No one can resist.”

  Eurylochus stepped forward and put his shoulders back. “I resisted the witch.”

  “Nope,” Hermes said. “She let you go. You were bait.”

  “I’m not bait.”

  “Yep. You were supposed to bring Odysseus to her. And look at that. You’re doing exactly what she wants you to do.”

  Confusion clouded Eurylochus’ face, but what Hermes said made sense. How else would Eurylochus, who was whiny and annoying and didn’t have much to recommend himself, ever get away from Circe?

  “What does this witch want with me?” Odysseus said.

  “She wants to control you,” Hermes said. “That’s what Athena says. She knows the witch. And from what Athena says, the witch is crazy.” He twirled his finger around his ear in a cuckoo-cuckoo motion.

  “Athena is wise,” Odysseus said, and his voice got all soft for a second, like it always did when he talked about Athena. “But no one controls me. I’ve got this. Now step aside.”

  Great. We were back to the pig-headed Odysseus. Maybe he did deserve to be turned into a swine.

  “I guess Athena was right about you,” Hermes said.

  Odysseus flexed his chest even more than he already was and stood a little taller. “What? That I am brave and strong?”

  This made Hermes laugh. “No way. That you’re stubborn and arrogant.”

  “Athena would never say that,” Odysseus said.

  “Yeah, okay,” Hermes said and shook his head. “Never mind. Just take this. It will protect you from the witch.”

  He plucked a plant from the ground and held it out to Odysseus.

  Odysseus narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

  “Holy Moly,” Hermes said. “Sure to keep you safe from the powers of the witch.”

  Odysseus took the plant but studied it suspiciously.

  “I want some of that,” Eurylochus said.

  Hermes shook his head. “No can do. There’s only enough for the king.”

  “But that’s not fair,” Eurylochus said, reverting back to whining when he didn’t get his way.

  “If it’s true and this witch has turned my men into pigs, how do I turn them back?” Odysseus said.

  At this Hermes laughed. “Yeah, that’s the hard part. You need to convince Circe to make a deal with you. And deals with Circe … not so easy. She’s filled to the top of her head with deception and tricks.”

  Holy Moly. Witches. Deceptions and tricks. What had we gotten ourselves into this time?

  Hermes and Odysseus yammered on for a little bit longer and figured out exactly how Odysseus would make this deal, and then Odysseus sauntered off, alone. Eurylochus and a couple of the guys who’d come with us went back to the beach to set up camp while they waited for Odysseus to return. I dragged behind.

  “What the heck!” I said to Hermes once everyone else except Dory was gone.

  “What do you mean, what the heck?” Hermes said.

  “You sent us on a crazy, mixed up, completely unsafe journey,” I said.

  “It’s an adventure,” Hermes said. “You said you needed an epic story, and I had an epic story that needed a storyteller.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “But we’ve almost been killed like three times.”

  “Four times,” Dory said.

  “Four times,” I said.

  “But you didn’t die, right?” Hermes said.

  I balled my hands into fists. “Well, no. But we could have. We definitely could have.”

  “But you didn’t,” Hermes said.

  “Anyway, we’re ready to go back to Ionia now,” I said. “Aren’t we, Dory?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Ready to go back?” Hermes said. “But the story’s not over.”

  He sounded just like Beta.

  “It is over,” I said, holding up the scroll. “I’ve gotten tons of good stuff.”

  Hermes shook his head. “Odysseus isn’t home yet. You can’t leave your readers hanging.”

  My only reader was Elder Pachis, and I was sure that everything I had so far would be enough.

  “Just send us back, okay?” I said. “We’ve been gone for months. How’s my mom? Is she okay? Did they take the farm away yet?”

  Hermes put up his hands. “The farm is fine. Your mom is okay. But you
can’t go back yet.”

  “We have to. These guys are horrible. They’re getting into the worst kind of messes, again and again. Just send us home. I know you can do it. You’re a god.”

  Hermes seemed to consider this. “Let’s just say you’re right. Let’s say that I could send you back. What if I didn’t want to?”

  Blood pounded in my ears. “Didn’t want to? Why should you possibly care?”

  “Where do you think you are?” Hermes said.

  I pressed my hands to the side of my head in frustration. “Some made up fantasy world? A dream? I don’t know. I’m just done with it already.”

  “Of course, you’re done with it,” Hermes said. “You’re living in the past.”

  I tried to puzzle out what he’d just said, but the blood swooshing around my brain made it really hard to concentrate. “The past? Like time travel?”

  Hermes kind of shrugged and nodded at the same time. “Yeah. Like time travel. You went back in time. You guys were only babies when this stuff happened. Everything that’s going on now has already happened. But nobody wrote it down. It’s why I sent you here. You need to capture this story. You need to make it so people don’t forget about it.”

  The time travel thing noodled around in my brain. “You sent me back in time to write this story for you?”

  “You could say that.”

  “And so what you’re saying is that when we get back from our journey—”

  “Your adventure,” Hermes said.

  “Whatever. Our adventure. No time will have passed?”

  Hermes put up his hands. “Oh, no. I didn’t say that. Did I say that? I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “What exactly did you say?” This was making less sense as the seconds ticked by.

  “I sent you ten years in the past to when this whole adventure took place,” Hermes said. “Each year that goes by here in the past is a day of your time going by in the future. So if you let all ten days go by …”

  A day for each year. That didn’t sound all that bad. And it explained why so little sand had passed through the hourglass. Also, it explained why our hair hadn’t grown at all while the guys looked shaggy and scruffy after a week. And no way would it take Odysseus nine more years to get home.