by Jeny Heckman
“You want something to eat?” she asked.
“Can I take a rain check tonight? I’m not super hungry.”
“I’ll keep it for you ’til later.” Knowing him well, she suggested, “Why don’t you go down and run by the beach?” The corners of his mouth lifted again.
“You handling me, old lady?”
“Yep, now do as I say and clear your head out. Po’ipū?”
“Yeah, that’ll do as good as any.”
“Okay.” She placed a hand on his back, giving it a couple of gentle pats. “But be careful down there, will you? The weather’s been strange today, churning up the wind in all different directions since late morning.”
“You got it,” he replied, kissing her temple.
Walking out the front door, Finn let the screen door snap back with a loud reverberating bang. He walked across the yard to the garage. He’d converted the room above it into an apartment when he was sixteen and took the steps two at a time. Entering the air-conditioned living room, he stripped off his shirt, changed into running shorts and re-banded his hair.
Within five minutes of making the decision, he was jogging the mile and a half toward Po’ipū beach. As he crossed the street on his final approach, Finn noticed a significant group of people gawking at a large black object. Intuition had him moving fast, and as he broke through the crowd, he saw they had surrounded a monk seal.
The group, fascinated by its find, had unknowingly cut off the animal’s route to the water and was causing the teenage seal to bark and moan in great distress. No one had bothered to call in the sighting, so the volunteers weren’t there to control the gawkers. Infuriated, Finn pushed through the crowd, past a sign directing people to abstain from the very behavior they indulged in.
“Back off,” he barked. From the confident, forceful authority in his voice, everyone obeyed without question. “Move!” he yelled at two girls in bikinis when they didn’t move fast enough. “She’s scared, and you’re making it worse.”
Finn knelt, and without touching her, tried to ascertain if the animal was hurt or just sunbathing. He was considering her eyes and pulling out his cell phone for some help when he felt it, something strange pulling at him. Laughter filled the air, and his back seemed to warm. He’d been watching the eyes of the animal but felt compelled to turn.
The sun was setting behind her, making it difficult to see, but her entire being seemed to radiate light somehow. He raised a hand to shield his eyes, through his aviators, but there were too many people obstructing his vision to reveal her face. All he saw was golden hair and the impression of her body. Finn began to stand up just as the seal barked at him, causing a brief shift in his attention. When he looked back, she was gone. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure if she’d been there in the first place.
Chapter 5
Deidre Taylor had lived an intriguing life. A colorful, full, dramatic life. Born December 7, 1941, her mother Catherine labored and delivered Dee with only a neighbor to aid her and bear witness. While Japan mercilessly attacked Pearl Harbor and the evening closed in on the horrific images of the day, Catherine looked upon her little piece of immortality, sleeping peacefully in her arms. Little did she know that her husband had succumbed to a warm, watery grave under the USS Arizona.
For a time, all the Hawaiian Islands were on lockdown. Stranded, scared and in pain both physically and mentally, Catherine, along with everyone else, tried to make sense of the violence. However, immediately after the ban was lifted, Catherine and her new daughter moved to Kaua’i. They found a good life there through the uncertain years of World War II.
No stranger to tragedy, Dee would lose her own husband to a farming accident in a sugar cane field in Koloa, but not before the union gave her a perfect and cherubic son they named Matthew.
Only a year old when his father died, Matthew would feel that absence etched deep within him. He grew up headstrong and reckless, despite Dee’s best efforts to restrain and prohibit the behaviors. When he moved from child to teenager, his habits became more toxic, experimenting with drinking and an extreme recklessness that endangered his life more than once. At sixteen, Matthew became a father himself. He looked at his infant son with dismay and fear, especially when the child’s fifteen-year-old mother left for the mainland and never returned.
Now, as her grandson left to sort out his thoughts, Dee walked to the window to watch him, a deep furrow appearing between her brows as she frowned. Her bright blue eyes clouded as she closed them and remembered the visit when the boy became hers.
“Hello, Mrs. Deidre Taylor?”
“Yes, sir.” Dee sighed deeply at the police officer standing in her doorway.
“Ah, ma’am, my name is Officer Marshall Kinney. I’m from the Kaua’i police department.” He removed his hat.
“Hello, officer,” she said sighing again. “My son, right?”
She leaned against the open door, shaking her head with frustration and disgust. When would the boy ever learn? After his wife left, she’d hoped he would step up and be the father Finn deserved. Instead, he turned to drinking and finally heroin. As the days progressed, so did his habit, usually supported through theft, many times from her own purse. Recently, she had begun trying to sweet-talk him into allowing her custody of the young toddler. Visits and phone calls from the police were becoming second nature.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m truly sorry to have to tell you this, but your son was found this morning at the base of Kipu Falls. H-he’s passed on, ma’am.”
“Passed on?” Dee asked, a greasy panic rising in her gut. “Wait…what?”
“Yes ma’am, we think he drowned.” The officer cleared his throat. “We finally had some of his, ah, friends come forward.” He hesitated, looking into her face, then quickly averted his eyes. “It seems they were doing some partying on the rocks out there. He, ah, he jumped off and didn’t resurface.”
“Today?” she asked frantically, trying to calculate if he’d said anything about going there or if it was a mistake.
“Ah, no ma’am, I guess this was a couple of nights ago. We found your name in the system and…”
“Oh God!” she screamed out. “Where’s Finn? My grandson, Finn, he’s only a little boy and I…”
“Yes ma’am, he’s safe. He’s a little dehydrated but safe. Some neighbors called it in this morning. It seems they heard the boy crying and came over to find out what was going on. It’s what prompted us to find your son, ma’am.”
“Where’s Finn now?”
“Social Services here on…"
“Just…just, don’t do anything.”
No longer able to spare a thought for her son, she only wanted to go to the best part of him. She ran to the table and grabbed her purse, hands shaking, as she searched for her house keys. The officer held her hand and said he would take her to the boy. Half an hour later, she held a wailing and frightened Finn in her arms and hadn’t let go of him since. Though he also grew up headstrong and stubborn, he was also kind, loyal, and loving, not unlike like his grandfather.
Still looking out the window, her mind began to re-engage, and she shook her head at feeling so nostalgic. Yes, in seventy-six years, Dee had seen some things and faced more than her fair share of loss, but her life had never honestly felt complete until blessed with Finn.
A sudden wave of vertigo washed over her, and she placed a hand on her stomach. It felt full, like a dozen tiny snakes wriggling, trying to gain purchase. The older woman turned and walked out to her garden to sit in her rocker. For when these moments happened, she tried to focus on them explicitly.
At times, Dee could see things, images, impressions really, that sometimes passed like clouds through her consciousness. Finn filled her mind, the wind and sea blowing in every direction as he tried to navigate to an unknown star. His life was about to be impacted. Would it be today? Tomorrow? She tried to focus. Would it be love? Harm? She didn’t know, just that it would be significant and it was coming.
; The warm wind and sunlight pulled the scent of the ocean through the troposphere like a reluctant toddler. Glenn Miller crooned about black magic when an even stranger energy stirred the air. The wind swirled stronger, lifting Dee’s hat and floating her long, snow-white hair around her face.
Looking out toward the ocean, Dee gazed upon a giant funnel cloud that had connected with the water, creating a spinning spout. Inside the winding tube was a golden beam of light from the sun as it peeked through the clouds above. She squinted, as time and movement had a dream-like quality to it, then worried the palm of one hand with the thumb of her other. Looking over at her neighbors, she saw they were oblivious to the drama unfolding on the water. So, they couldn’t see it, she thought.
A sense of foreboding propelled her to her room. Not knowing why, she was secure in the knowledge that was where she was supposed to go. Nearly falling, she steadied herself, took a deep breath, and moved more cautiously toward her closet. She felt a thrum in her head, as thoughts swirled around, similar to the water in the mighty spout.
She began to throw shoes, boxes, and clothes onto her bed until she could finally reach the cabinet deep within, withdrawing an ancient, metal-strapped wooden box. Feeling as nimble as a school girl, she crossed her legs and took a deep breath as she tried to open the lid.
Where before it never allowed entry, now it opened with reckless abandonment. Dee gasped while peering inside and saw a smooth, pale ivory hemisphere that glowed and pulsated. Not a crystal ball or perfectly rounded sphere like one would see in a cheap movie, but more like an orb halved, soft and glowing, with no apparent shell. The most ancient part of herself began to beat along with it.
Her body shivered with the knowledge she couldn’t reach. Catherine had given the box to her almost fifty years prior and told her it extended down their genealogical line for hundreds of years. Dee herself had kept it more out of intrigue and nostalgia, just like her mother had.
Now she felt a whoosh of adrenaline, like oxygen permeating each cell of her body with energy and life. Her vision blurred, and when she removed her glasses, it crystallized into perfection. Dumbfounded, she noticed her hand still raised, was free of age or time, a feat that was rapidly ascending her arm, her lap, legs, and feet. Touching her face, she found the soft, smooth roundness of youth and a wheat-colored mane once again brushed the tops of her breasts.
Hesitating only slightly, she touched the surface of the orb and power exploded into her, causing her to spasm. A vibrant stream of energy connected her to the sphere. Paralyzed to speak, Dee closed her eyes in concentration. A misty form emerged in her mind. When she opened her eyes again, she beheld a woman.
Her hair fell around her like liquid gold, blowing gently across a gauzy thong that blinded her eyes. Her arms outstretched with what appeared to be luminescence, rather than skin. Robes blew in an unseen wind and knowledge seemed to emit from her, physically. Dee shook her head and had no idea how knowledge could be seen.
“I am Themis.”
The name came from nowhere with a voice not her own. She cowered at the being taking the shape of extraordinary beauty and omnificence.
“Daughter of the goddess Demeter, it has begun. Two of the prophecy, sharing the same time and same space, endeavor to be joined.”
“Prophecy?” Dee croaked hoarsely.
“Son of the mighty Poseidon and daughter of Apollo, for it begins with them. I may come to you now, with whom I have an affinity, mothers of those connected with new life and reluctant death. Our life, our death, our world.”
“Our world?” Terrified, she didn’t know what say or do. “I…I don’t understand”—she looked around, gesticulating—“this. Who are you?”
“Builders of Troy must reunite to build the foundation of our last stand.”
“Last stand? Is it… What the hell is going on!” Dee shouted. The orb flashed in impatience, and the older woman cowered. “I…”
“Silence must prevail, for time grows short. Hold strong to what you know, what you see, what you dream. Beware for there are shadows among you, that will attempt to hinder your path. Our strength fades, and there must be a new beginning at each end.”
“Each end?”
“Twelve in all, the descendants must unite, for Cronus grows stronger.”
“Cronus? Who in the hell is…”
“The gods of the past will descend into Tartarus, and Cronus’s power will grow unchecked. His power already sings in some who serve in your world. The implications have extended to your time, as well as mine.” The image began to fade. “My time grows short, so your question must now be asked.”
“O-okay.” Dee searched for inspiration, but her mind went suddenly blank. She shook her head as if to clear it. “Ah, son of Poseidon, Apollo, that’s mythology, right?” Dee looked helplessly at the beautiful being growing more translucent. “Wait, where’s this prophecy?”
In a last effort, the bottom of the chest gleamed and Dee turned it over. The light settled onto a carving that hadn’t been there before. She looked back up, but the lady was gone. A flood of heaviness and pain brought her up breathless, as arthritis once more seeped into her bones, her vision blurred, and hands once again threaded with age. Dee sat, cramped and uncomfortable. Her thoughts from before rushed in like a tsunami washing away what she had always known to be real.
Reaching a hand to her jackhammering heart and then her head, she wondered if she’d had some kind of stroke. Taking an internal inventory, she realized she felt incredible. In fact, better than she had in years—full of energy, optimism, and an innate curiosity about recent events. Taking a deep breath and with violently shaking hands, she turned the box over, which was once more sealed. Dee read aloud the words etched into the wood.
“Those that now rule will rue a day when those they command refuse to pray.
An old, most powerful foe will find a way, to escape the bonds of yesterday.
And with him will turn one once trusted, that gods persecuted and belittled and neglected. Mighty gods shackled and toiled, never to be heard, from Tartarus’s grip deep in the abyss of the Underworld.”
She continued to read, growing more and more uneasy until she finished, rigid with fear and tension.
“Holy shit,” Dee said in a quavering voice.
She sat there blinking, with her mouth open for a full five minutes before shaking herself out of the fog. Reaching for the bed, Dee helped herself up on shaking legs, then raised a hand to her mouth, dragging it down her neck and onto her chest as if that could slow her heart’s momentum. Only when she thought she could support her own weight did she take a step toward the door and then another, growing more centered. She walked into her small study and sat in the chair.
Mind racing with thoughts, she shook her head again to clear them. How could anyone have been prepared enough to know what questions to ask? If the chest was that important, why hadn’t her mother told her? Had she even known? Thinking back, she tried to discern if her mother ever indicated they were capable of anything like this. Only a little fortune telling, and that was weird enough. So, strange in fact, that Finn didn’t even know that side of her. Dee didn’t know what was real. If there was some bizarre curse happening, wouldn’t she have clues? She sat up straight. Bizarre curse thing? What the hell was happening, had she lost her mind? Reaching for her keyboard, she went to her search engine and typed in, Greek Mythology.
After researching for hours, Dee became frustrated with her inability to make sense of the internet, let alone the massive web of names, connections, and deities within Greek mythology. She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling forcefully through it, exhausted.
Finn called her name, and her head snapped up. She looked toward the hall, up at the wall clock, then out the window. The thick black of night was beginning to lighten. She called back and began to stack her papers and scribblings quickly. Dee only had the faintest thread of what she was looking at anymore and tried to widen her eyes and stretch her back, sti
ff from disuse, before Finn got there.
“Hey,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb. “You’re up late.”
“Yeah,” she said absentmindedly. “Are you just getting in?”
“Yeah, met some guys for a couple of drinks and some pool. I didn’t know it had gotten so late.” Sitting down in the chair across from her, he crossed an ankle over his knee and nodded toward the papers. “Whatcha working on?”
“Did you know there were a bunch of different gods, not just Zeus and Aphrodite and all that lot?” she blurted without preamble. He creased his brow and looked at her, tilting his chin a little.
“Gods? What, you mean like the Greek gods?”
“Yeah, Zeus had a father.”
“Ah, yeah,” he said very slowly. “If I remember right, his father had a father too. They cut off his pecker.”
“What?” Dee’s gaze snapped up, astonished. “They did what?” Laughing, Finn seemed to root around.
“Well, I don’t remember all the names, but one dude’s name was Uranus. You tend to remember things like that as an adolescent boy, in middle school.” He grinned at her, and she studied him back, unsmiling, so he cleared his throat. “Anyway, so then that guy hated all his kids or something and sent them to rot in hell or something, which pissed off his wife, whoever she was.”
“Why did he hate them?” His grandmother watched and listened intently.
“I don’t really remember, but she got a big knife and asked her kid to cut off his dick. Maybe it was so she wouldn’t have more kids or something. I don’t know.” Warming to the discussion, he interlaced his fingers over his abdomen. “Her son did it, and threw it into the ocean, making Aphrodite. That’s why all the guys think she’s hot, but thinking about it, I really can’t see why that would do it.”
“So the son’s name was Cronus?” She smiled as Finn yawned.
“Was it?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “I think that guy freaked out on his kids too, thinking they’d do the same thing or something. They didn’t cut off body parts, but they got rid of him somehow, and then it was all about Zeus.”