by Paul Neuhaus
Keri brightened. “Oh! I love that album.” Everyone turned to look at her, so she said, “Which, of course, I realize isn’t relevant right now.”
Everyone turned back to me. I realized I was sick of my lollipop, so I handed it to Hope. “Would you do something with this, please? It’s kind of disgusting.”
“Oh, thank gods,” Hope replied as she took mine and headed toward the kitchen with both. “I thought I was gonna have to eat the whole thing.”
I looked at the expectant men and the fifteen-year-old-girl. “I don’t know why you guys’re looking at me,” I said. I counted off on my fingers. “The world has been rolled back to the way it was when I was young. I don’t know how to fix it; it’s not in my area of expertise. All the Evils have been let loose for the second time in a month. And I wouldn’t begin to know how to get another pithos.”
“Didn’t Zeus come to you and offer you a replacement?” Tiresias said.
“Technically, Pan came to me and offered me a replacement, but the problem is inherent in your question. They came to me, I didn’t go to them. So far, no one’s stepped forward to dose me with a new crock.”
Everyone sighed and looked down at their shoes. “Well, I refuse to believe we have to just live with this,” Chad Kroeger said. “I mean we all thought we were stuck with The Big Bang Theory, and now it’s in its final season.”
Petey gave Chad an annoyed look. “What we’re dealing with here is much worse than The Big Bang Theory.”
“I beg to differ,” Chad mumbled.
“Look,” I said, beginning to head out of the room. “I’m here and I’m open to ideas if anybody’s got them. I can only think of one thing I could possibly do, and it’s a) repugnant to me and b) a ridiculous long shot. I’m gonna go see if there’s anything on Turner Classic Movies. Tell me if you think of anything worthwhile.” Turner Classic Movies got Cal’s attention. He started to follow me, but Elijah called after us.
“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough,” my ex- said. “I don’t think you’re doing enough.”
I grinned a shark grin at him. “Not doing enough? I see, so were you there all those thousands of years when I was doing my bit for King and Country—even though I didn’t know which King or what Country I was serving? Were you there when I fought and bled and nearly died all those times for nothing? So, my work could be scattered to the four winds like I never did it. Were you there for any of that?”
He tried to hold firm, but I could see the intensity leaving his eyes. “No, I wasn’t there.”
“That’s right. You were too busy banging cocktail waitresses.”
I left the room, and Cal followed me without comment.
The next day, Hope and I went to Six Flags Magic Mountain, rode every ride, and screamed our fucking heads off. I recommend Batman: The Ride if you’ve never been.
About midway through the day, Hope ate so much funnel cake she threw up.
The day after that, Hope and I went on one of those tours of Hollywood celebrity homes. We saw George Clooney and he waved at us. Hope was excited by the sighting not because of Clooney himself, but because Clooney had been in movies with Matt Damon. Matt Damon had, of course, played Jason Bourne. If we’d seen Matt Damon himself, I believe Hope would’ve peed in her pants.
After the tour, we went to Neptune’s Net which is this weird seafood restaurant where bikers hang out. Hope binged and ended up puking her guts out. I saw the puke. It was mostly scallops.
The day after that, Hope and I went to one of those places where you can rent inflatable sumo outfits and fight other people in inflatable sumo outfits. They stuck her in the children’s division and me in the adult. I beat the living shit out of three grown men. Hope had similar success with two girls and a little boy. She got mad when I told her the boy she beat looked like a sissy.
After sumo fights, we went to Krispy Kreme in Santa Monica and bought two dozen glazed. We sat there until they were all gone, and Hope threw up again.
The day after that, me and my new best friend went down to Hollywood Boulevard and stood on the sidewalk dressed as superheroes. She was a tiny Spider-man and I was Deadpool. It’s not as odd as it sounds, since there’re always people down there dressed as superheroes. To blend in, we passed out fliers just like the others. Ours said, “Help us! We’re victims of human trafficking!” It took more than an hour for someone to finally read their flier and summon the authorities on our behalf. When the cops came, we ran, laughing down the Boulevard.
Afterward, we went to an ancient Italian restaurant just off the main drag. Hope ate so much Chicken Cacciatore, she threw up.
On the fifth day, somebody finally said something. Several somebodies, actually. Hope and I were on our way out again when we were stopped in the living room. Everyone was there. Elijah, Keri, M.C. Pliny the Elder, Jack, Tiresias, Cal, Chad. They were sitting around with solemn expressions. I knew what was up right away. I laughed as I said, “This is an intervention, isn’t it?”
“Would you please sit down?” El said. “Just for a few minutes. We want to talk to you.”
Cal got up and offered me his chair. I took it and Hope stood next to me.
The elder Wiener sighed, looking at all the faces except mine. Turns out he was looking for someone to take up the baton, but he didn’t get any offers, so he had to do the talking. “Look,” he said. “This life is wearing on us. You’re used to it. It’s what you had when you were a kid, but to us it just feels wrong.”
“Not to me,” Cal said.
“Nor me,” Ty added.
“Okay. Well. To everybody else, it feels weird. It’s like being dropped on another planet. A planet with a different climate and ecosystem. A planet where monsters run around loose.”
“I haven’t seen any monsters,” I replied. “Have you seen any monsters?” I asked Hope.
“I haven’t seen any monsters,” she replied.
“Stop being snotty. You know just as well as I do, they’re out there. Lying in wait. Ready to pounce.”
I smiled and shook my head. “El, there were always monsters lying in wait. Ready to pounce. Most of them wore human skins, but they were out there.”
El didn’t back down. “But those we understood. Maybe not the pathology, but at least the shape. Before now, we didn’t have minotaurs and shit to worry about.” I shrugged. He didn’t like that response. “You said to us the other day, there was one thing you could do, but you didn’t think it’d do any good. Well, we’re all here to tell you, we’re at that juncture.”
I cursed myself for bringing up the thing I didn’t want to do. “Oh, you’re all at that juncture. Does it matter to you it’ll be something you can’t help me with, and it’s something I really, really don’t wanna do?”
They all looked at one another. Elijah at me. “No, honestly it doesn’t. We’re asking you: Please, try and make this right. If it doesn’t work out—like you warned us it might not—that’s fine, but we have to know that every stone has been turned over. We need that if we’re ever gonna be able to accept this.”
I sighed, shutting my eyes tight. I rubbed my temples. “Fine,” I said at last, standing. Without further comment, I moved to the front door and all of them watched me go. All of them except Hope who was right at my heels. I turned and laid my hands gently on her shoulders. “No. Please. Stay here. I honestly don’t think there’s anything you can do to help, so just hang tight.”
She could tell I was stone-cold serious, so she hung tight. “Where’re you going?” she asked.
I turned and, right before I exited the house, I said, “Hell.”
On the drive from Westwood to Griffith Park, I did some thinking. L.A. traffic was a thing of the past, so, fortunately, I didn’t have too long to spend in my own head.
I thought about how quickly I’d surrendered “Power Dora”. She was supposed to be my rock and I’d betrayed her. I thought about how being a hero is a sign of weakness—at least at the outset. Giving in
and doing a thing you have no desire to do is, in a weird way, a capitulation. Everyone talks about how selfless the hero is, and that’s exactly right. A hero has to leave himself behind to do what other people think is necessary.
Being a hero has a personal cost.
When I got to Bronson Caves, I parked the Firebird and entered the main cave. I followed the same route Amanda and I had followed to get into Hades the month before. I again finger-banged the vagina door to gain entry, then I walked through to the main chamber. Once there, I crossed the bridge over the river Styx, passed the judges of the dead and came to the gate leading to the Underworld’s hub. Thanatos, the Greek Grim Reaper, was there. He nodded but did not challenge me.
The hub had walkways leading away from it. In the center of this intersection were two thrones. Fortunately, both seats were occupied so I wouldn’t have to go searching for the custodians of Hell. Connie and Amanda were arguing, so they didn’t see me come in. I cleared my throat to get their attention. “Oh. Hi,” Amanda said, the residual anger from our last encounter still in effect.
Connie was friendlier. “What’s going on? How are you? Are you okay? What’s happening up there?”
I answered matter-of-factly. “Prometheus used my magic pinecone to overwrite the real world.”
Connie’s eyes bugged out. “For real? Are there like nymphs and dryads and centaurs running around everywhere looking to get fucked?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Amanda muttered.
I ignored her. “No. He made ancient Greece the new normal, but he left the fuck puppets out of the equation.”
“Prude.”
“He also shattered the pithos and let the Evils out. Again.”
Constantinides whistled and sat back on his throne. “Sounds like a real shit show. Is that why you’re here? Are you looking for some kind of solution?”
I sighed. “Yeah. Under protest.”
“Why ‘under protest’?”
It was Amanda’s turn to lean forward. “Because she’s Greek and Greeks are crippled by their own emotions.”
Connie gave his common law wife a sour look but didn’t respond to her. “What do you need?” he said.
“I need to talk to Medea.”
The Josh Groban lookalike shook his head. “Now the ‘under protest’ makes sense. Are sure that’s what you wanna do?”
“I’m not, but I’m here, so…”
Constantinides nodded and stepped down off of his black throne. “I’ll take you. If I let Amanda do it, there’s liable to be a catfight.”
Venables shot venom at Connie. “If you let me do it?”
Connie rolled his eyes. “Easy there, Trigger. It’s just a figure of speech.” He headed toward my right. I’d only ever been down the path to my left. The path to the Asphodel Meadows. It’s where I’d met Eurydice. It’s where all the common people went. To the right was Elysium, the place where all the celebrities went. People like Odysseus and Socrates.
“Medea is in Elysium?” I said, hardly believing it.
My host shrugged. “This isn’t like the Christian Hell. We don’t have a dedicated place for bad people. Remember, the Olympian faith wasn’t defined by its emphasis on morality. Given the way this place is zoned, Elysium was the only place we could put Medea. I mean, she was a princess, and, after a fashion, she was a celebrity.”
“Okay, okay. I know it’s not your fault. I was just hoping for a little eternal suffering for the lady in question.”
Constantinides nodded. “You’re preaching to the choir.”
We took the steps down into the recessed area that was Elysium. The Asphodel Meadows was characterized by its wide-open spaces and its beautiful trees. Elysium, while beautiful, was more urban. I went to all the great Greek cities during their heyday and yet I’d never seen so many white columns in my life. Building after building after building as far as my eyes could see.
As soon as we got to the bottom of the steps, we were met by a smiling man in a toga cinched with a gold belt. He wore sandals and a crown of laurels. I understood his function intuitively. He was the doorman. “Amyntas, how are you?” Connie said. “This is my friend Pandora.”
Amyntas would’ve been very much at home in any one of your finer hotels. Based on his demeanor, I’d underestimated him by thinking of him as the doorman. He was more like a concierge. “Oh!” he said. “A visitor of some distinction! I’m very happy to meet you, miss.”
“Likewise,” I replied, shaking the hand that was offered me.
“Listen, Amyntas, we need to speak with Medea. Can that be arranged?”
The pleasant-looking man sighed. “Of course, it can be arranged, sir. Particularly for the likes of yourself and your esteemed guest. Of course, if it was left up to Medea…”
Connie nodded. “I understand.”
Amyntas turned and snapped his fingers and an amazing thing happened. A miniature version of a Greek sailing ship slid into view next to us as if it was on an overhead track. The side facing us was open and an upholstered bench awaited our sitting pleasure. When I’d first come to the Underworld my first takeaway had been that it reminded me of one of the dark rides at Disneyland. This cute little sailboat cemented the amusement park feel. Connie motioned for me to get in which I did. Before he followed me, he slipped the concierge a bill.
As soon as we were aboard, the ship pulled away and flew us at leisurely speed through street after street of marble buildings. ” What’s a condo go for here?” I said.
“You have to be dead. And famous,” Constantinides. “The second one you probably qualify for. The first, not yet, thank gods.”
The ride took long enough for me to realize there was an oppressive sameness to the place. It was gorgeous, but it was also monotonous. You seen one Grecian temple, you’ve seen them all. Just when I was about to comment on my boredom, the ship came to a stop in front of—surprise surprise—a spotless Grecian temple.
“Come on,” Connie said. “Amyntas called ahead—it’s part of the gig—so I’m sure we’ll have to talk our way in.”
“Can’t wait.”
We mounted the steps and the lord of the Underworld knocked on the heavy wooden door. He had to knock two more times before the portal opened just a crack. “Yes?” said a familiar voice from inside.
Connie sighed. “You were told we were coming. Don’t act like we’re Jehovah’s Witnesses or something.”
“You can compel me to allow you in. That’s your right. Barring that, I don’t want to speak to you.”
Connie sighed even harder. “Fine. Whatever.” He raised his hands and acted like he was going to cast a spell on her. In an affected voice, he said, “Medea, I compel you to allow us to enter!”
The door swung wider and Constantinides motioned for me to go in first. The decor was not at all surprising. The walls were black, the floors were black, the ceiling was black. All the furniture was black. Medea wore a black toga. “You’re nothing if not predictable,” I told her.
She cocked her head. “I wish I could say the same. You finding Tassos and Cressida and bringing them to me was a masterstroke. Congratulations.”
“I have my good days, and I have my bad days.”
“You’ll have more bad days if I have anything to say about it.”
“Says the dead girl.”
Connie entered and closed the door behind him. “Don’t make me separate you two.” He turned to me. “I don’t wanna be here any longer than I have to, so why don’t you cut to the chase?”
“Fine,” I said, looking from my host to the famous sorceress. “The hierophant… What is it and why did you want it?”
Medea looked at me with eyes like stones. She turned to Connie and said, “I don’t wish to have this conversation. You can compel me, of course, but— “
Connie didn’t bother with his hands or the funny voice this time. “You’re compelled.”
Before she looked away from her jailer, Medea said to him, “You’ll find in t
ime that owning a special hat doesn’t make you a true god. I want to be the one who teaches you that lesson.”
“Did you not hear me just now?” Constantinides said, raising his voice slightly. “With the compelling?”
Medea looked at me and, in a singsong voice she said, “The hierophant is a statue with an entity living inside it, much like your pithos—which I hear has fallen on hard times.”
No telling how she knew that. I had no interest in finding out. “I don’t need a textbook definition. I already knew that. What’s it good for, and why did you want it? You wanted to gain possession before you opened the Tartarus Gate. Why?”
Our hostess’ eye flicked briefly to Connie. “The hierophant has the power to compel. In a way so much more meaningful and long-lasting than any tinhorn lord of the Underworld could manage. Some would say it has the power to change minds. Some would say it has the power to enslave. In either case, you can see how such a thing might be useful.”
“You were going to use it on Cronus. To bend him to your will.” Cronus was the king of the Titans and father to most of the Olympians. He would’ve been the one Medea had to cajole into letting her take charge of the elder gods.
The woman nodded.
“You failed to lay your hands on the hierophant and yet you chose to go ahead and free the Titans anyway… Were you going to try and skate through on sheer charm?”
“I have my methods.”
“Like slipping a mickey into Medusa’s lube?”
Medea didn’t comment.
Connie said, “Wait… What?”
“I’ll tell you later. So, Medusa moved the hierophant offsite. Did you figure out where she hid it?”
Medea nodded. “I did, but I was already dead by then.”
“Okay, so spill…”
“She left it at her sister’s house.”
I looked back over my knowledge of Greek canon. Medusa did indeed have two sisters, but they all hated one another. “One of the other gorgons?”