by Jasmine Walt
“Are you all right?” Plutus' voice called out in the darkness of the early morning.
“Yeah,” I answered, combing my fingers through my chopped hair. “Your father's such an asshole.”
He chuckled. “That's news to you?”
I guess it shouldn't have been. Despite myself, I laughed.
21
Despite Tisiphone's warnings about Lamia and harpies looking out for us, we finally arrived in New York by four the next afternoon. I’d stayed under the speed limit so we wouldn't be pulled over by the police, stopping only when we had to.
It had been a long haul and only one instance outside of Allentown, Pennsylvania at a McDonald's drive-thru, where the attendant paid too much attention to me. Her nose was shaped like a beak, her hair looked suspiciously feathery, and her glasses magnified her eyes to three times a normal size. She watched me open-mouthed as I gave her the money for our Big Macs, with no regard for making me uncomfortable. I couldn't get out of that drive-thru line quick enough.
It would have really helped if Tisiphone had told me what harpies looked like. It took a while before I felt safe again and stopped checking my rear view mirror every thirty seconds after we left Allentown.
Despite the odds against us, we exited for I-895 and we were in the Hunts Point neighborhood of the Bronx. I realized that, deep down, I actually hadn't believed we'd make it this far. I had no idea what to do now that we were here.
I didn’t know what Tiresias looked like. What would a prophet kind of guy actually look like anyway? I imagined him running one of those tarot hotlines. Call for a free life assessment, or something like that. That was what Beverly Dean did before Stephen murdered her.
There was also the problem of what to do with the car. While I knew about Hunts Point from being on the police force in San Francisco, I'd never been there before on my visits to New York. The neighborhood was considered a “Red Light District” for crime and prostitution, one where half the population lived under the poverty line. Drugs were rampant here, so there were plenty of addicts. Just the place you wanted to meet a prophet. It broke my heart thinking about it.
I held my breath as we took the exit for the Hunts Point Market. This was it. This was where we were going to find Tiresias.
First things first, I had to find a good spot for the Prelude. Dion would kill me if something happened to that car. Despite the fact that he knew what could happen if he gave it to us, I wasn't looking forward to having the wrath of a god rain down on us. The wrath of one demigod was enough, thank you very much.
The thing was, I knew that we would find Tiresias in either the place with the most prostitutes or the place with the most drugs. My luck was working out that way these last few days.
I took the turnoff for a parking garage a few blocks from a park. I wasn't sure if it was absolutely secure. There was a parking attendant and everything seemed fine, so it would have to do. I didn’t want to waste time trying to find someplace better.
“Whatever happens,” I warned Plutus before stepping out of the car, “you need to stay with me, all right?”
“You're acting like we're going into a war zone,” he said suspiciously.
“We're not,” I said. “But we're going to be in a strange place, I don't know where we're going, and we have a few baddies after us. Isn't that enough reason to be careful?”
He leaned in to me, his breath tickling my skin. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me, one of those heroic kisses before the male protagonist runs off to save the damsel in distress. I was hoping for too much. He gave my hand a quick squeeze.
“It's going to be fine,” he assured with a tight grin.
I hoped so.
I hailed down a cab outside of the garage, a typical New York City yellow taxi. The driver, too, was stereotypical.
“Where yeh headed?” he rumbled.
I swallowed, my mouth dry. “Hunts Point Avenue,” I answered. I had to start somewhere. The main artery of the area was a good enough start, right? It was also the only place I knew here.
I sucked in a deep breath.
Why the hell was I so nervous?
Because I was going to have to ask another question, which sounded totally absurd coming from me. I had to play it up. The driver had to believe that we were really addicts, otherwise he might think we were cops. I was a cop in what seemed like another lifetime but these days I was operating like a criminal. I'd asked questions like this before, but then I'd always felt protected, and rarely did it ever go wrong. The odds felt so much higher here when it wasn't only my life on the line.
I squeezed Plutus' hand, trying to reassure him with what I was going to say next. Trust me.
Act casual. “Paul and I here are wanting to do something…could you help us?” My hand was tight on Plutus', and I was trying to ignore the fact that my knuckles were white. “We're looking to score a pack of H.”
I couldn't have sounded more awkward if I had tried.
The driver was silent for a few moments, where the only sound was the radio. “Youse guys cops?” he asked.
“'Course not,” Plutus answered nonchalantly. I guess it would have been strange if I was the only one talking.
I took out a crumpled twenty-dollar bill and handed it to the driver. He took it from me and held it in one sausage-fingered fist, considering the offer.
“Not cops?” he asked again. We must have really not looked like regulars.
I shook my head, meeting his eyes in the rear-view mirror. “We're not.”
The driver thought for a few more moments before answering. “A’ight then,” he said. “I'll get yeh there.” The car veered off into a different direction.
I forced myself to not breathe the sigh of relief that I so desperately wanted to release. I leaned back in my seat. Think like someone who's happy they're about to get their next hit.
For me, that was staring off aimlessly into space.
Hunts Point didn't really look too different from the Tenderloin in San Francisco. The sun was setting, and people were out and about, huddled together in their jackets. It was pretty cold this time of year in New York City, so they were bundled up in several layers of sweaters and jackets.
A few streets over and a few blocks later, the taxi stopped.
The driver turned around in his seat to look back at us. “Here,” he said. “I ain't takin' youse any further.”
Rather than complain or anything, I handed him our fare money and ushered Plutus out of the car. The driver had gotten us closer, that was all I could really ask for.
Our breaths came out in little bursts of white clouds as we started walking down the sidewalk. It really was cold, and I was finding it hard to control my shivers.
People watched us from the streets, in their groups or by themselves. It didn't matter. They knew as well as we did that we didn't belong. We stuck out like a sore thumb here and it was only going to be a matter of time before someone would start asking questions. Or start asking for trouble.
Were there any harpies here? How long would before they started hunting us?
I made eye contact with a woman across the street who was watching us keenly. She reminded me of the lady I saw at the McDonald's. It could have been my imagination getting the better of me; the cross-country drive had made me more than a little paranoid. As I met her too-big eyes, I saw them widen perceptibly. She nodded once, as if to herself and she briefly talked to a john before she left.
Had we been discovered?
Time was of the essence.
“Have you met Tiresias before?” I asked Plutus, fighting to keep my teeth from chattering. “Like, could you describe him to me?”
“Other than his voice,” he said, “No, not really.” He gave me a sideways, lopsided smile, and I realized my mistake.
“Oh, yeah,” I muttered. “This is going to be very hard.”
“Callista and Plutus?”
We both turned at the strong Jamaican accent, and I was faced
with a man who didn't appear much older than me. He was a little bit shorter, with a bit of a stoop, dressed in a New York Yankees hoodie. His dreadlocks were longer than my hair before I cut it, complete with a Rasta cap on top. The most interesting thing I realized, was that his eyes had a milky white film over them, much like Plutus'.
Plutus was in good company, because Tiresias was blind as well.
“Tiresias?” Plutus asked.
The other man laughed wholeheartedly, and I saw that his pupils were absolute pinpoints. I made a mental groan. We were dealing with a heroin addict high off his mind.
“Nobody call me dat for years, man,” he said.
“So...you are Tiresias,” I said.
He laughed harder. “Tyrese, dey call me now.” He held out a hand, and for a moment, I didn't know what to do. Finally, I grasped it into a handshake. He once again surprised me by grappling me into a sloppy hug. “Callista, I take it. And Plutus,” he added, reaching out for another handshake. Of course being blind, Plutus didn't see it. He retracted it quickly with a wry smile. “Seems like you suffer de same as me.” He turned back to me. “I been expecting you.”
“Expecting us?” Plutus echoed, only slightly sarcastically.
Meanwhile, I was a bit less diplomatic. Anger bubbled up inside me. “You could've made it a bit easier to find you. We've just driven the entire country to come talk to you.”
“Why would I want to do dat, man?” he said, giving a toothy grin. I noticed he had a few teeth missing. “When I could stay here wid all de good stuff? And it's cheap.” I had the feeling he was talking about the heroin.
“Not even a phone call or something?” I asked to press my point.
I was expecting another laugh, but he just peered at me with those milky, tiny-pupiled eyes. Could we trust him when he wasn't even in this stratosphere?
“Do you know why we're here, Tiresias...Tyrese?” I asked.
“'Course I do,” he said, offended. “I am de prophet. And you—” His eyes were sober, the pupils normal sized. A moment of lucidity. “You want de answers.”
I nodded, transfixed. Talk seemed useless because I had the feeling that he knew everything about me, like I was transparent from the inside out. He knew I had a thing for Plutus. And he knew that I wanted to know if there was a future for me and Plutus.
My palms began to sweat.
“Let's finda more comfortable place to sit, yeah?” Tyrese said. His pupils dilated close again, and he looked like the addict we met only a minute before. “We have much to talk about and not enough time to say it.”
I nodded even though that last part sounded ominous to me. “Sure,” I said.
“Yeah,” Plutus agreed.
22
We ended up on the waterfront in the industrial district of Hunts Point, sitting on a stack of moldy cardboard boxes. Not exactly comfortable, especially since Plutus and I had been cooped up in a car for the last four days, but we didn't want to peeve Tyrese.
A few yards away, some homeless people were warming their hands over burning metal drums of garbage. It was such a cold night, and snow was falling lazily over us. A mental image of a post-apocalyptic future flashed through my mind and I shivered uncontrollably. Plutus was no better off than me. I think it was because he had been an immortal god, he'd never felt cold before he was mortal. Now was a bad night to get used to it.
Tyrese didn't seem fazed by it at all. Then again, I think Tyrese lived without worrying about anything.
“You both came a long way to see me,” he said, grinning wildly. “In olden days, I'd be flattered. Now, dough...” he frowned, “I just feel tired, man. You know wud I mean?”
I nodded because I did. The trip had tired me on a different level. My very bones ached. I was tired of being scared. I was tired of being tired.
Plutus surprised me by actually speaking. “Yes.” He closed his eyes and put his head in his hands.
Tyrese had a satisfied smirk on his face, like he had expected Plutus' response. “Trust Hades to put yous on such a journey,” he sighed, leaning back. “When dere's no easy answer.”
“No easy answer?” Plutus groaned. “I thought there were other beings that were turned into gods?”
“Tis different for everybuddy. Hercules had to die. Dionysus had to be born twice.”
I closed my eyes at the mention of Dion, feeling a bit angry that Dion hadn't mentioned this part. I guess if it was different for everyone, then there was no point. In fact, it probably would have given us false hope.
Tyrese kept going, not picking up on my mood. “Dey're called Apotheothenai,” Tyrese kept going, not picking up on my mood. “You,” he waggled a finger at Plutus, “are quite a bit different, my friend.”
“What, you're saying I can't die to become a god?” Plutus asked sarcastically, although there was an edge to his voice. “Or be born twice. Or whatever?” He seemed even paler than before. He was scared.
Tyrese grinned that Jack-o-Lantern smile at Plutus. “You're different. You started out as a god, turned mortal, and now want to be a god again. Different circumstances.”
Plutus sat back, his face pulled down into a frown. “What do I need to do?”
“Answer me dis,” Tyrese said. “Dis is what you always wanted, innit? To die?”
Once the statement left his mouth, it hung in the air between the three of us. I tried to not let my heart scream at that statement. It was true that Plutus hadn't cared if he lived or died a few months ago; I thought that had changed. Hades had told me as much when I confronted him about Stephen. Tyrese had brought it up now after such a long journey, and it stung. I could feel the tears spring to my eyes. I sat there stoically, not wanting to breathe or do anything that could sway the answer.
Plutus was frowning, his head moved away from me as if he was trying to avoid being around me.
I watched him, fury boiling up inside me with so much intensity, it was probably emanating off me in waves. I couldn’t help it. After everything I’d done for him, protecting him, putting my life on the line, driving across the whole country. He still wanted to die? I didn’t even want to touch on the obvious part, that I had feelings for him that I didn’t want to think about right now. Because if I did, then it would hurt even more. It would feel like a betrayal.
I was the one who broke the silence. “Is this what you always wanted, Plutus?” My voice was low, dangerous.
It took several heartbeats for him to answer, during which I wanted to claw at him, tear out his hair and walk away. “It was.”
I felt like the air was sucked out from my lungs. Was this what I wanted to hear? Him admitting to the fact that he wanted to die? And did I want to hear that I was part of the reason why that changed? Wasn't this going to only get my hopes higher when I didn't want them in the first place?
“It was, Callista,” he said. “Not anymore.”
“Since when?”
“Since I met you.”
He answered that angrily, in reaction to me. I didn’t really know how to react to that now, and I rubbed my hands on my jeans to give them something to do. I got up from my seat and started pacing. I didn’t want to be sitting any more.
“Well den,” Tyrese said, interrupting us, “Plutus wants to live. And not as a god. And dat’s de trouble.”
“What is?” Plutus asked dryly.
“I can’t help you,” the prophet answered. “You want to be mortal now. And I can't help you if you don't want to be a god.” Plutus opened his mouth, but Tyrese shushed him. “No,” he said, “I mean deep down you really don't want to be a god. And de Fates dey know dat. So you can't become a god again. You want to live a mortal life with her.” I must have looked shocked, because he looked right at me and repeated the four words I didn’t want to hear. “I can’t help you.”
“But Hades…” Hades had told me that there would be a way Tyrese could help us. That this whole thing wasn’t a lost cause.
“Hades has his own agenda,” he said. “Surely yo
u’ve picked dat up by now. Why else would he have said for youse to be in a car driving across de country? Alone?”
Plutus was nodding. “Dad wanted to be sure,” he said. He combed his fingers through his hair. “He wanted me to continue to get closer to Callista. Because we’d get along. Because I…” He looked at me with those sightless eyes with a desolate look. “…I…”
“And dat would be de answer to your question, Callie,” Tyrese said softly.
There it was, and my heart fluttered up into my mouth, tasting bittersweet. The answer, as plain as it was now, was that Plutus did love me.
We loved each other and yet there was nothing we could do about it.
All I felt was dread at that moment. I had a timeline of events spread out before me. I didn’t know what we could do.
Stephen would hound us until Plutus was dead and he was a god. I shouldn't have gone on such a wild goose chase and traveled all the way to New York. Maybe we should have had our last stand. If only I'd known that Tyrese wouldn't provide the answers. I seriously could have strangled Hades then. I could have shot him with the God Gun and I would have gladly watched him squirm in pain.
I saw it from his point of view though. He had hired me, not necessarily to find out who was trying to kill Plutus, but to create a distraction so that his son would fight for his life. And when I'd failed to keep him as an immortal god, Hades knew that Plutus wouldn't have wanted to be a god again. In a way, his original plan backfired. I had kept Plutus from treating his life like a trinket, and I was now the one that was keeping him grounded in the mortal plane. And that was why he had sent us on this wild goose chase.
So that I'd fall for him without Aphrodite's influence.
I didn't know what to do. What was next? I was scared and I didn't know how to handle it.
Plutus reached out to touch me as I passed him.
“Don't touch me.” I didn't want to be near him. He was...stuck. And there was nothing I could do about it.
“Don't be dat way, Callie,” Tyrese called out to me. “Dis is what you wanted.”