Medusa the Mean (Goddess Girls)

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Medusa the Mean (Goddess Girls) Page 5

by Holub, Joan


  “Awesome,” Medusa said unenthusiastically. This was just the kind of job she had wanted to escape by leaving home.

  “Not as awesome as your life at Mount Olympus Academy, I bet. So, what’s it like hanging out with goddessgirls like Aphrodite and Athena?” The girl sighed wistfully. “They must be so beautiful and smart, and, well, goddessy.”

  “Yeah, they are,” said Medusa. “We hang out all the time. In fact, we’re like this.” She held up two fingers twined together. “I sit at their table in the cafeteria for lunch most of the time. With Persephone and Artemis, too.”

  Echidne’s eyes widened. “Really? You are so lucky!”

  Yes, she was lucky, thought Medusa. Lucky not to still live here. After spending years with immortals, life down on Earth was not for her. She would be bored out of her mind if she had to return to this town, where she couldn’t even go to school.

  Yesterday’s worry returned to nag at her again. What if Zeus had found out about her snakes’ shoplifting? He wouldn’t throw her out of the Academy and send her back here, would he?

  Medusa had never been happier to see the white-winged silver chariot appear in the sky. The minute Hermes swooped down, she dove into the back of his chariot. Waving good-bye to her childhood schoolmate, who was gazing at the chariot in awe, she called, “Sorry. Gotta go!” But she wasn’t really sorry to leave at all.

  6

  Fin-tastic

  ALTHOUGH HERMES HAD FINISHED DELIVERing Zeus and Hera’s wedding invitations yesterday, he took Medusa on his regular mail rounds on the way to Mount Olympus. She helped toss out packages and letterscrolls—not to be nice, of course—just to hurry things along. It was noon by the time they finally approached MOA. She hadn’t had any breakfast, and she was starving again.

  As they broke through a puffy white cloud, the majestic Academy burst into view. It gleamed in the sunlight atop the highest mountain in Greece. Built of polished marble, the Academy was five stories tall and surrounded on all sides by dozens of Ionic columns. Low-relief friezes were sculpted just below its peaked rooftop. It was so beautiful that sometimes she could hardly believe she actually got to go to school here. She only hoped nothing happened to send her back home!

  The chariot’s mighty wings flapped more slowly as they circled the school. “Next stop: Mount Olympus Academy,” rumbled Hermes. “Looks like . . . Zeu . . . making . . . announ . . .” The wind caught his words and blew them away so that Medusa didn’t understand most of what he said.

  But as they landed, she saw Principal Zeus standing in the MOA courtyard with a crowd around him. The school herald stood at his side, which meant that the principal was about to make an official announcement.

  Stopping for maybe two seconds, Hermes tipped the chariot just enough for Medusa to either hop out or fall out. She hopped. By some miracle she managed to hold on to her comic-scrolls. “You’re welcome!” she called as he took off without a word of thanks for the help she’d given him with his deliveries. He only waved merrily, not seeming to realize she was annoyed.

  Hermes’ winged chariot always attracted attention, and heads turned their way as he flapped off. Had anyone heard about the shoplifting incident? Medusa wondered. “Incident” was Aphrodite’s word for any big trouble she accidently caused—like starting the Trojan War. Shoplifting wasn’t quite that bad, but still. Speaking of Aphrodite—she and her three best buds—Athena, Persephone, and Artemis—were standing together in the crowd around Zeus.

  Medusa also saw Pheme, her former roommate and her only sort-of friend at school. As the goddessgirl of gossip, she would surely know if there were any shoplifting rumors circulating. Still clutching her comic-scrolls, Medusa walked over to her. “Heard any new rumors lately?” she asked by way of greeting.

  Pheme’s eyes were glued to Zeus as if terrified she might miss the start of his exciting news. “Shh,” she said, but at the same time she shook her head no.

  Relieved, Medusa turned her attention to the herald as he called for quiet, then began speaking. “Since the number seven brings good fortune, it is tradition for an immortal groom to choose seven groomsmen to be in his wedding. Today Principal Zeus, King of the Gods and Ruler of the Heavens, has come before you to do just that. So without further ado, I give you . . . Principal Zeus!”

  Ado? thought Medusa. Who used that word? No one except the pompous MOA herald, as far as she knew.

  Everyone clapped as Zeus stepped up to address the crowd. Unrolling a papyrus scroll, he began to read from it, his voice booming out like the thunder he was so famous for. “My lucky seven groomsmen were chosen from among MOA students, based on their achievement in scholarship, artistry, strength, music, heroism, and other stuff. Congratulations to Apollo, Ares, Dionysus, Eros, Hades, Heracles, and Poseidon.”

  As cheers went up for the honored immortal and mortal boys, Medusa’s green eyes fastened on Poseidon. Dressed in a turquoise tunic, he looked even cuter than usual!

  “As is also tradition in immortal weddings,” Zeus went on, “these groomsmen will choose seven girls to be Hera’s bridesmaids. So I hereby command each boy to hold a contest to select his partner from among MOA students and the daughters of honored guests visiting for the wedding.”

  Medusa’s ears perked up. After years of crushing on Poseidon, this could be her big break. Whatever contest he decided on—she was going to win it!

  His speech done, Zeus took off, and the students headed for the cafeteria. Some of the chosen groomsmen held quick, silly contests to choose bridesmaids right away as everyone walked along.

  Ares went first. “The winner of my bridesmaid contest,” he called out to the crowd, “will be the first goddessgirl I spy who has nine letters in her name, which must start with an A and end with an E.” He glanced over at Aphrodite, whose hand he was holding, and said, “We have a winner!” She smiled, which made her look even more beautiful, if that were even possible. As usual, thought Medusa. Aphrodite’s beauty and immortality ensured that everything worked out for her. Grrr. No fair!

  Heracles went next. “I will choose the first girl who can come up with the longest and shortest words ever written.” There was a minute of dead silence as everyone tried to figure out the two words. This riddle was almost as good as those the Python had asked him in the Olympic Games!

  Athena answered on the spot, of course. “Longest is ‘pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,’ also known as pneumonia. As for the shortest, well, there are some single-letter words, such as ‘I.’ But since that’s not a word when written in lowercase, I say that the truly shortest word must be the lowercase short vowel ‘a.’”

  When Heracles declared her the winner, she looked delighted. And relieved. It was a no-brainer that she would want to be a bridesmaid in her own dad’s wedding! You’d think Zeus would’ve realized that. Was it possible he was as clueless as her own dad? Medusa wondered. At least Zeus didn’t speak in grunts, though.

  Hades held his contest next, asking a question about the flowers in the Underworld. It was a question that only Persephone could possibly know the answer to. Naturally she won, but Medusa wasn’t really paying attention. She was busy keeping Poseidon in her sights. When he announced his contest, she would pounce. And she would win!

  A vision danced in her head, of herself as a bridesmaid holding a pretty bouquet of flowers as she walked at his side in next weekend’s wedding procession. By the time they all reached the cafeteria, only four godboys—Apollo, Dionysus, Eros, and Poseidon—had yet to declare a contest and so were still without partners.

  In the lunch line, however, Apollo borrowed a helmet-shaped bowl from one of the lunch ladies. “If you want to partner me in the wedding, put your name in this bowl!” he called out as everyone began getting their lunches.

  Figuring Poseidon probably wouldn’t announce his contest till Apollo’s was decided, Medusa zipped up to her room and stashed her comic-scrolls and the coin bags from Mr. Dolos in her closet.

  When she returne
d to the cafeteria a few minutes later, Apollo’s contest was still in progress. The helmet-bowl was still being passed from table to table as she sat to eat with her sisters. When it came into her hands, she saw Ares say something to Apollo and gesture toward her. Apollo glanced at her, alarmed. She grinned evilly, sure he was worried he might get her as his bridesmaid. Should she put her name in just for fun? No, she didn’t want to take a chance he might draw it out. So she wrote Ares’s name instead, thinking it would be funny if Apollo picked a boy’s name. Ha-ha-ha!

  Apollo’s helmet-bowl finally made its way back to him after passing through every girl’s hands. Holding it, he stood and made a show of closing his eyes and digging deep into the slips of papyrus. He pulled one out and read the name on it: “Cassandra!”

  A girl with long, wavy fire-gold hair stood. “I had a feeling you’d choose me!” she called to him, laughing.

  “Yeah, right,” muttered Medusa. She didn’t believe the girl for a minute, and it wouldn’t surprise her if no one else did either. “Who’s she?” she asked. Murmurs spread through the cafeteria as everyone else wondered about her too.

  Within moments Pheme flitted up to the green triplets’ table. “She’s rumored to be the daughter of one of the kings visiting here for the wedding,” she told them breathlessly. Then she dashed off to another table to spread the information before anyone else could. Recalling the hundreds of invitations she’d helped Hermes deliver, Medusa knew that lots of dignitaries and their families had been invited to MOA for the week’s celebrations and marriage ceremony.

  After lunch Eros took the helmet-bowl and invited all the girls who were interested in being his bridesmaid to follow him to the shooting range on the sports field. The cafeteria cleared out as everyone headed there to see what would happen. Once they’d all gathered, he asked the girls to pull their names from Apollo’s helmet and tack them to a target he’d set up. When all was ready, Eros took aim and shot his arrow of love from fifty paces.

  “Pheme!” he announced, reading the slip his arrow had pierced. When Pheme squealed with joy, a puff of smoke escaped her lips and formed a cloud heart above her head.

  Now it was down to just Dionysus and Poseidon. Since Medusa’s attention was on Poseidon, she hardly noticed when Dionysus announced his contest and put on his Love-Is-Blind blindfold—the same one he’d worn when he’d danced with her during Hero Week.

  After Apollo spun him around a few times, Dionysus blindly headed for the nearest girl. And that happened to be Medusa! Ye gods—not again! She leaped out of his way, and he wound up tagging a mortal girl standing behind her.

  “Her name is Ariadne. She’s the daughter of King Minos from Crete,” Medusa heard Pheme telling everyone. Ariadne looked thrilled to have been chosen. Medusa felt a tiny spurt of regret but then dismissed it. She had her heart set on Poseidon!

  All eyes turned to him now that he was the only groomsman left without a bridesmaid. Medusa held her breath as he finally made his announcement. “Since I’m godboy of the sea, I will hold a swimming contest next Saturday in the gymnasium pool. The winner will have the honor of partnering me in Principal Zeus’s wedding on Sunday.”

  A swimming contest? How fin-tastic—um, fantastic! thought Medusa. Living on the coast of the Aegean Sea with a sea monster and a sea hog for parents, she had learned to swim almost before she could walk. She had a real chance at winning this one!

  From the corner of her eye she peeked over at Pandora, who looked dismayed. They’d been in Gym-ology together last year, so Medusa knew the girl wasn’t much of a swimmer. If Poseidon had wanted Pandora to win, he would’ve picked a contest that was easy for her, right? Maybe something like Twenty Questions. The fact that he hadn’t must mean he wasn’t crushing on her, after all.

  “Follow me if you want to sign up for my contest,” Poseidon called out. Feeling excited, Medusa joined the crowd of girls who trailed after him as he left the archery range. The girls lined up as he posted a sign-up sheet on the gym’s notice board. He didn’t stick around, though. Ares and some other godboys had called him over for a game of discus-throwing on one of the sports fields outside.

  Even though she wanted to knock all the other girls out of the way and sign her name first, Medusa hung back. Only when the last girl had gone and the coast was clear did she approach the notice board. Frowning, she surveyed the names of her competition. She could easily beat the mortals. But many of the signers were immortals with magical powers. What chance did a mortal like her have against girls who could use magic in a race? The only way she’d stand a chance was if she were immortal herself! Hmm.

  After quickly signing her name, she dashed back up to her dorm room. She grabbed the partially completed Immortalizer ad form from her desk and finished filling it out. Then she got the money bags from her closet. She poured all thirty drachmas Mr. Dolos had given her into one sack, tucked the form inside, and tied it closed. Finally she wrote the delivery address on the outside of the sack and set it on her windowsill.

  Hesitating, she stared at the bag for a minute. What if she was making a mistake? Her mind told her there was no way the necklace would work. But her heart longed to become immortal. She decided to ignore reason. Her perfect plan just had to work!

  Within minutes a magic breeze came along. The four winds and their breezes delivered much of MOA’s mail. But when this breeze tried to lift the bag and couldn’t, it called for backup:

  It’s too heavy for a single breeze.

  Winds of strength, come help me, please!

  As the breeze’s words died away, a much stronger gust of wind arrived to join it. Easily lifting her bag together, they whooshed it away.

  Medusa flopped onto her bed feeling hopeful and excited. Turning onto her side, she leaned on an elbow and rested her chin in one palm, gazing at her Poseidon bulletin board. Just imagine—by next week her bridesmaid bouquet might be tacked up there. And there might be a picture of the entire wedding party too. One in which she was all dressed up, and with her hand on Poseidon’s arm!

  Pictures of Zeus and Hera’s wedding would almost certainly appear everywhere. Including on the front page of Teen Scrollazine and in the Greekly Weekly News. Even her parents would have to be proud to see her as a bridesmaid in a wedding for the King of the Gods! They’d probably hang that picture up in their house. And even better, all the kids who’d been mean to her growing up would see it and know she’d truly made it at MOA!

  A sudden creative urge to draw came over her. She pulled out the comic-scrolls she’d stowed in her closet. Once she found a scroll that was still mostly blank, she put pen to papyrus:

  The Queen of Mean (episode # 24)

  Best Bridesmaid Ever!

  “In today’s episode,” she murmured, quickly sketching an evil-looking snake holding its tail in its mouth, “the dastardly villainous serpent Ouroboros comes along trying to ruin Zeus’s wedding.” Now she drew two stick-figure people keeling over from fright. “Zeus and Hera faint in terror at the sight of the serpent,” she continued. “Everyone else hides, including all the godboys. Springing into action, the Queen of Mean summons payback magic by shouting, ‘Gorgonzola!’”

  As Medusa sketched a stick figure of the Queen of Mean holding a stinky cheese in one hand and some flowers in her other, she said: “In a flash the queen tosses her bridesmaid bouquet to Poseidon to hold for her and zooms to Zeus’s rescue! Caught in the jaws of the giant serpent—who took its own tail out of its mouth long enough to latch on to him—the principal is terrified.” With rapid strokes she drew a bug-eyed, scared-looking Zeus.

  Then she drew four goddessgirls, all joined at the hip like a garland of cutout paper dolls. Underneath them she made a long, wavy line of water. “Just then, Athena, Aphrodite, Persephone, and Artemis trip and fall into the pool, making a mess out of their chitons and hair. ‘Help us!’ they shriek. ‘Aghhh!’” Medusa grinned as she drew their wild-eyed faces, straggly hair, and dripping gowns.

  As she wrote and d
rew, she snacked on dried ambrosia curls. Now and then she tossed a handful high, and her snakes playfully snatched at them, then gulped them down.

  Eventually her tale wound to a close. “At last! The Queen of Mean defeats evil and banishes the serpent. Zeus is so grateful that he promises to magically turn her into the goddess of . . .” Unsure what to write, she continued, “Of whatever she wants to be goddess of.”

  “Then Poseidon returns her bouquet and says, ‘With your stony, superlative gaze and magic cheese, you always manage to save the day. You are awesome, Queen of Mean!’

  “Then the four most popular goddessgirls at MOA give her a necklace with a golden GG charm that matches their own, and beg her to be their friend. She humbly agrees and becomes instantly popular too. The end.”

  Rereading her comic, Medusa giggled. It was a masterpiece!

  7

  Kindergarten Buddies

  DETERMINED TO WIN POSEIDON’S CONTEST, Medusa dragged herself out of bed at six on Monday morning to practice her swimming. She stretched and yawned, tired from getting up so early, and from staying up late the night before to draw her comic adventures. After she dressed, she jogged across the courtyard and over to the gym, which housed MOA’s swimming pool in its basement grotto.

  She took the limestone stairs down to the pool below the gym floor, then shucked her chiton to reveal the swimsuit she wore underneath. As god of the seas Poseidon had created this underground pool. Only he could instruct it to form different shapes that would meet the needs of any race or event. He could add waterfalls, rocks, and various fishy creatures too. But for now the pool was a simple long rectangle. Braided sea grass ropes marked off the swim lanes.

  Hearing splashing sounds, Medusa looked around in surprise. A dozen other girls—both mortals and goddessgirls—were already swimming laps. She’d expected the pool to be empty at this hour, but it seemed that others were just as determined as she was to be Poseidon’s bridesmaid.

 

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