by Paris, Sevan
Alex already felt the searing pain set in on his right cheek. It hurt to move his face, jaw, or head in any direction. "Augie, just--please," he held up his hand. "I don't--I didn't--just don't worry..." Alex's posture immediately changed. "I'm sure she'll let you hit the rim sometime too."
Augie kicked Alex in the stomach.
Hard.
Right before Alex started vomiting, Blankenship ran over, yelling at Augie to back off. Augie took a few steps back and smiled as Alex's cheek slapped into a pool of the hotdogs he had for breakfast.
Blankenship slowly helped Alex up and motioned for Augie to follow the two of them out of the room.
Augie's confident and somewhat playful swagger was a direct contrast to Alex's limping and leaning gait. The three exited the chamber of mighty Athena.
Athena turned her head slightly and watched them.
BOOK FOUR
THE PATHETIC EARTH
Hera hated Earth.
She hated the look of it, the sound of it, the smell of it, the taste of it, and--most importantly--the feel of it. Even now, as she patiently waited in the elevator of the Greek Isles Hotel and Casino, the thought of possibly brushing the opening elevator doors revolted her.
I'm here because of him. This is his fault.
The doors opened, and Hera turned slightly sideways to step through. She heard the sound of clomping feet coming down the carpeted hallway. Hera turned to see a small girl running toward her. A stupid grin decorated the child's face while she ran just as fast as her five-year old legs could possibly carry her.
Her mother stood twenty feet away, just outside a room door. She seemed more interested in the contents of her purse than the wellbeing of her child. "Don't run away from mommy, honey. You know she gets upset," she said while never looking up from her purse.
The child laughed and ran faster. She risked one quick look at her mother, just to make sure the manipulative "catch me if you can" game was afoot. Seeing her mother still hadn't moved from their room's doorway, the child returned her gaze to the hallway in front of her.
That's when Hera tripped her.
Hera hated touching the thing, but the results were certainly worth it. The child hit the carpeted floor face-first and slid on her nose a good six inches. She had so much momentum her feet rose in the air well past her head.
The child rolled over and started screaming. Blood poured from something only half-resembling a nose. The child didn't seem to know if she should touch it, scream louder or roll into a fetal position.
Hera looked down at her. "Pathetic."
Mom must have lost interest in her purse a split-second before Hera touched the child. "Hey! Bitch! Did you just trip her?"
"Oh, an American. Such a surprise."
Hera saw mom's eyes flash from anger to unbridled fury. She raised a hand to hit Hera. "How fuckin' dare you--"
"How dare I?" Hera caught the woman's hand in an iron grip, "How dare I?"
Bones in the woman's wrist cracked. Hera squeezed even tighter. "How dare I? How dare any being give such a socially distracted creature the ability to breed is a far better question, don't you think?"
Hera finished breaking the screaming woman's wrist and flung her against the wall.
Hera looked at the hand that touched mommy and curled her lip. On Earth for five minutes and already I've touched--not just one--but two of these wretched things.
Realizing it could only make the feeling worse if she wiped her hand on something, Hera shook her head and stepped over the wailing child, who was forced to suck blood and mucus into her mouth with every breath.
"Pathetic."
~ * ~
It took Hera five more minutes to locate her target: room 303.
"He always had a thing for three." Hera kicked in the door and found her husband, Zeus, god of thunder and leader of the entire pantheon, in the middle of carnal relations with three Greek prostitutes.
He untangled himself from the women and stood up. "Dear, before you say anything, allow me to tell you--"
"Oh please, do spare me your pathetic--"
"--that this is exactly what it looks like."
Hera gave her husband an icy glare. "If you're finished, we need to talk."
Zeus looked at the three women. After the initial shock of the door being kicked open, they were the picture of calm. None of them even made a move to dress. They simply waited, while giggling with one another, to see how this was going to pan out. None of them were aware of Zeus' identity of course. They probably thought he was a British businessman on a holiday to Greece. A businessman who, once free of his nagging wife, had been seeking a type of enjoyable company that could only be delivered by three women simultaneously.
Up to a certain point, they had been correct.
Zeus looked back at Hera. "Oh, I assure you, I am not finished."
Hera made a head gesture toward the three women. "Must I kill the lot of them before I am to be graced with your attention?"
Zeus's smile was replaced with annoyance. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find three bisexual Greek prostitutes in this day and age?"
"I'm not joking. I'll kill them this very moment."
"And I mean really Greek. Not just what simply passes for Greek."
Hera placed one foot into the room. Zeus placed his hand on her chest. "You have five minutes."
"Five minutes? To us, that is the blink of an eye."
"If you do not hasten, it will be a lifetime."
"Remove your hand, husband. And beware, I do not take to threats lightly."
Zeus looked at his hand, removed it, and looked back at the bed. "Don't move," he told the girls in Greek. "I'll return momentarily."
They giggled and nodded their heads.
Zeus stepped into the hallway and closed the broken door as best he could.
He clapped his hands together loudly and rubbed them together. "Now, what's up, buttercup?"
"I know."
"Could you, perhaps, be more specific?"
"I know about the woman, I know about the child, and I know both currently reside in Athens, Tennessee. Is that specific enough for you?"
"I see...what are your intentions?"
Hera smiled. "You shouldn't ask me what they are. You should ask me what they were."
A lightning bolt flew from Zeus's palm and hit Hera in the chest.
BOOK FIVE
WISE FIONA AND...JUST BOS
The human race positively loved monuments.
That's what Fiona Avery thought as she looked at the ten foot tall statue of...of, well...of some guy located several hundred feet away from the Parthenon. According to the plaque situated directly below his feet, "some guy" was responsible for the construction of the replica and much of the surrounding park. It was ironic the act of building a monument had the unexpected effect of Nashville building a monument for him in return.
There were several benches around some guy's statue. Each one was labeled with abstract terms, such as "administration, traffic, executive, or mechanical, that either meant to encourage, confuse, or just plain ol' distract the random passerby.
Fiona plopped her book bag on the bench marked "wisdom" and fumbled around her pocket for a pack of cigarettes and her lighter. She paused and considered how smoking a cigarette--arguably an act requiring an absence of wisdom--on a bench inscribed with the word "wisdom" could be found humorous to the same random encouraged, confused or distracted passerby. She liked smoking cigarettes, despite what they were doing to her body. The justification certainly wasn't a wise motivation.
But neither was building some guy's monument.
As Fiona lit the justified cigarette, her and Alex's longtime and pain in the ass friend--Salvadore Boster--walked up.
"Fiona...babe, what's up? We still getting together later?"
"Not even in your wettest dreams."
Bos made a fist. "Right on. Hey, wait." He sat next to her. "Who told you that?"
Fiona grinned. Wisp
s of smoke escaped her lips.
"Nobody told you that. Okay. Alright, I get it. Very cute." Bos clapped loudly. Can we get a nice round of applause here ladies and gentlemen for Fiona's cuteness, not to mention her underage nicotine addiction?" People passing by their bench gave them annoyed looks.
Bos's stubbly double chin gestured in the direction of the Parthenon and the rest of the class. "How come you ain't in here with the rest of those looozers?"
"One could ask you the same question."
"Well, ask away, one."
Fiona flicked her pink hair back and took another drag. "Don't really care."
The two of them watched Alex walking from the direction of the Parthenon. A large bruise decorated his left cheekbone, and the front of his shirt was wet.
"What happened to Alex?" Fiona said, faking curiosity. People already thought she was weird enough.
"Hooooly shit! Got no idea. But I'm sure it involves insane levels of testosterone. Something you wouldn't understand."
Fiona blew smoke in his face. Bos chuckled and used his bowler hat to wave it away.
"Dude, what the fuck happened to your face?" Bos said to Alex.
"Oh yeah, like it?" Alex gently touched his bruise. "Augie gave it to me. I'm thinking of giving it a name."
"Dude," Bos said through a chuckle. "You should totally name it Jorge. I had a pimple on my ass looked just like that, I mean just like that. I named it Jorge. It was totally awesome."
"Actually, I was thinking of Helen."
Bos put his hand on Alex's shoulder and grinned. "Jody did that to you? Cause'a Helen? Dude, what 'd you do?"
"Looked at her."
"Dude...come on."
"I was looking at her ass. And then--"
"Her totally awesome ass, you mean!" Bos said. "Dude, I knew it! You're into her!"
"I was certainly into her ass."
"Yeah, well, anyway, let me tell you what you should do with that." Bos pointed to the bruise on Alex's face. You should pop it like I did Jorge. Otherwise that thing is gonna swell and fester. You don't want that, dude." Bos made a squeezing motion with his two thumbs. "Pop it, man! Just-just freaking pop it!"
Fiona stood up and flipped her cigarette away. "Like the mailman did your mother?"
"See, now that hurts, Ms. Avery. That really hurts. People on YouTube completely exaggerated that entire incident." Bos curled his upper lip and looked at his hand. "Dude, is your shirt wet?"
"Does Blankenship know what happened?" Fiona asked.
"Yeah, he separated us. Good thing to because I was just about to...Wait--why?"
"He's walking this way, rather hurriedly."
"Goddammit," Alex said.
Bos smelled his hand. "You been eating hotdogs? You kinda smell like hotdogs."
Alex walked over to meet Blankenship.
Fiona saw the two of them talk. Alex, she could tell, was upset and barely managing to hold it in. Blankenship seemed to be getting upset--not over the whole incident--but over Alex's getting upset.
Bos wiped his hand on his shirt. "What are they…I can't hear from here. Can you hear? Jesus, I can't hear. Why don't they step closer, so I can freakin' hear?"
Fiona impatiently looked at Bos and then back to Alex. "Alex is getting whatever Augie is getting. Our beloved English teacher believes Alex provoked him.
Bos blew air out his mouth. "Oh, that's complete ess! Wait till Alex's mother finds out. She'll put Blankenship's nuts in a fuckin' vice."
Blankenship, obviously through with whatever he had to say, turned and walked away. Alex looked at his friends then started walking back to the Parthenon.
Maybe I should just put his nuts in a fuckin' vice." Bos looked at Fiona. "You don't happen to have a fuckin' vice on ya do you?
Fiona picked up her bag and walked after Alex.
~ * ~
"Cigarette?" Fiona offered Alex after she caught up with him. Alex didn't even know she'd been following.
He shook his head. "I don't smoke."
Fiona put them back in her pocket. "Perhaps you should start. It's a positively wonderful way to relieve stress."
Alex shrugged. "Yeah, or it could just give me something else to stress about."
Fiona laughed. It wasn't something she did often, not since the car wreck anyway.
The two walked in silence until they reached the museum's entrance. "Did you hear what fat bastard told me?"
Fiona shook her head.
"He told me I started the whole fucking thing. And 'cause of that, I'm getting detention."
"Did he actually say 'fucking'? Cause I think we can have the man's job."
Alex wasn't in the mood. He looked away.
Fiona stepped into his sight. "What did you say?"
"What?"
"After he gave you detention. What did you say?"
Alex tapped the ground with his foot and lowered his head. His long and curly dark hair fell in his face. "Nothing." He looked at her. "Do you believe that? I didn't do a goddamn thing, and I didn't say a goddamn thing."
"Did you want to say something?"
"Yeah, I wanted to say something. I wanted to say--"
"Why didn't you?"
Alex sighed. "He already made up his mind, y'know? Made up. Done. El Fin. So, why bother? I'd just get more detention."
A long silence passed. Fiona adjusted her bag. "Then perhaps you did the right thing. Are you sure that's a bruise? It looks more like dirt."
Alex felt his face. For some reason, it didn't hurt anymore.
He looked at the top of the museum. "Who are those guys? Do you know?" There were over a dozen statues above the Parthenon's entrance. Alex pointed at the largest of them, a man and a woman about to duke it out in the center. She had a spear, and he had a pitchfork or something.
Fiona looked up and shielded her eyes from the sun. "Couldn't tell you."
"That is Athena and Poseidon," said Ms. Pryde from behind them.
The two teenagers turned and looked at her. She was too young to be a teacher. She couldn't have been more than five years older than him. She was short, attractive and firm. Alex often wondered what her boobs looked like.
Fiona folded her arms. "Why are they fighting?"
Ms. Pryde grinned. "Let's just say they always, always had a reason."
"Why are they fighting like that?" Alex said.
"How do you mean?" Ms. Pryde said.
"Well look at them." Alex pointed at the statues. "Or, look at her. She's all covered in a dress, little bit of armor, and even has a shield. Poseidon's got nothing. His junk isn't even covered. It's all hanging out. All he has is that pitchfork thing."
Ms. Pryde bit her bottom lip. "Trident."
"He has chewing gum?"
She bit her lip again. "No, the-the 'pitchfork,' Alex. It's called a trident."
Alex looked back at the pitchfork. "Oh."
"I didn't see you during the tour, Fiona."
Fiona scratched her nose. "Yeah, well, my dad brought me to the Parthenon once when I was little. The statue creeped me out."
The expression on Ms. Pryde's face didn't change for a couple of seconds. "Well, you'll still be responsible for the handout."
Alex sighed. Before leaving school, Blankenship had given the class a handout full of Parthenony-type questions. He'd completely forgotten about it during the ass watching, face punching and puking.
Fiona reached in her pocket and yanked out a piece of paper. She unfolded it and handed it to Ms. Pryde. "Already done."
"Just keep it. Either Mr. Blankenship or I will take them up later."
Fiona shrugged and shoved the handout back into her pocket.
Mr. Blankenship walked up. Alex hoped the bastard remained upwind. "Fiona, I need to speak with you." He waved his meaty hand away from the others.
Fiona looked at Alex and walked to Blankenship. The two stopped a short distance away where two cops were waiting.
What the fuck?
They spoke softly, but to Ale
x's amazement, he could still hear them.
"Their was an accident..."the taller cop started, "...a car accident this morning involving your parents, and we need you to come--"