Goddess of rain, p.12
Goddess of Rain, page 12
“Hera, how wonderful to see you!” Bronte says. Hera strides forward and holds out her hands to both goddesses. She smiles at them beatifically and they bask in her glory. She pulls both of them into an embrace.
“You are both looking so beautiful, as always,” she says. “Just perfection! I would love to get you to model for my company. Why haven’t we done a photo shoot with you yet?”
Bronte looks confused. “We did,” Bronte says, “we did a shoot where we modelled for your new fall skincare products, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right,” Hera says, “we didn’t end up using them. I think the light wasn’t right. Not your fault at all, of course. When you are made of light like you two are, you have to be careful about how the photo is lit. No ring lights for you two! You are naturally radiant.”
Astrape looks at her hand and studies it. Bronte puts one of her perfect nails in her mouth and begins to chew on it.
“I want to catch up with you lovelies,” Hera says. “Let’s go sit down and chat before I go up to see Zeus.”
Bronte and Astrape look awkwardly at each other. Hera instantly picks up on their tension.
“Darlings, it’s fine. All the strife between Zeus and me is ancient history. It’s been millenniums! We are blissfully de-coupled. I was on my way to Mars for the Martian Gala. I thought I’d make a trip there this year to catch the gala and stock up on Martian sand. It has the most amazing exfoliation and regenerative properties. I plan to package it and sell it to my Junoites. Anyway, I was getting my ship ready to launch when I saw Zeus’s ship in the radius of the earth. I decided to surprise him and stop by to say hello.”
“Oh,” Astrape says, “it’s too bad he didn’t know you were coming. You’ve just missed him. He took one of the transporter ships and left. He didn’t say where he was going.”
The smile that Hera has been wearing disappears. She fixes a cool stare at Astrape and then at Bronte. The thunder and lightning goddesses take a step back under Hera’s scrutiny. I reach for Brandon’s hand with shaking fingers. He holds my hand and whispers, “Remember, we’re not really here. She can’t do anything to us.”
Hera’s chin juts out and she tilts her head back, accentuating the sculptured line of her high cheekbones. She paces across the floor and turns her back to us. After a moment, her head drops and one of her hands goes to her forehead. Her shiny hair has been braided into a single plait down her back. A multitude of different jewelled pins have been scattered through her hair, but the end is tied with a simple leather string. Suddenly, she turns around, lifts her head, and she looks composed again. Her smile has returned to her face.
“That’s too bad,” Hera says. “I should have let him know. But we ladies can still have a visit. My nails are just a mess. Maybe one of you can do a manicure?” Astrape and Bronte look delighted to be able to serve Hera instead of face her wrath. They both run off in search of their sparkly suitcases while Hera settles herself into one of the couches we sat in earlier. Her smile disappears while they are gone and instantly reappears when they return.
Bronte and Astrape set up their manicure station while Hera lounges on the couch. Hera places her hand on a portable manicure table they have wheeled out, and Astrape reaches for it.
“You have such beautiful hands, Hera,” Astrape says as she reaches for her nail file.
“That’s what Zeus always said. He said that about everything, actually,” Hera says with a laugh. “He always knew what to say.”
Astrape nods but doesn’t say anything. I don’t think she wants to pick up on this thread of conversation. She bends her head further over Hera’s hand and files her nails.
“Did you know we had a three hundred-year honeymoon?” Hera says, as she sorts through nail polish samples. She settles on a royal purple and hands it over to Astrape.
“Would you like us to do your feet too?” Bronte says in an effort to change the conversation.
Hera slips off her shoe and rests her foot in Bronte’s lap by way of answer. Bronte takes out a foot bath from beneath the manicure table and begins to soak Hera’s feet.
“This is nice,” Hera sighs. “I could use a glass of wine. Where’s Ganymede, did Zeus bring him with him?”
Bronte jumps up and says, “I’ll get you a glass of wine, Hera. You just sit here and relax.” Bronte disappears into one the doors and comes back a few minutes later with a bottle of wine and some wine glasses.
She sets them on the coffee table and begins to open the bottle of wine. Hera, who had been leaning her head back and closing her eyes relaxing, sits up and opens her eyes at the sound of the clanking wine glasses.
“What’s this?” Hera says, “Wine glasses? Isn’t this ship equipped with Grecian Goblets? We got a huge set as a wedding present. They are supposed to be distributed to all the royal Olympic residences so that Zeus and I can always enjoy our drink from them. Where is Ganymede? He needs to see to this.” Hera takes her feet out of the foot bath and leans towards the coffee table in search of her shoes. Her hand blindly reaches out to find the shoes when she swats at something else, and there is a clang under the table. Out from under the table rolls a golden, bejeweled Grecian Goblet.
Hera reaches for it and picks it up. “A Grecian Goblet? On the ground? How could Ganymede allow this? Is he here or did he leave with Zeus? Either way, he must be punished for allowing this to happen.”
“He is being punished,” Astrape says, “He went crazy and stole one of Zeus’s thunderbolts and tried to shoot up the ship. We have him caged below until we can take him back to Olympus for trial.”
Hera narrows her eyes and stares intently at Astrape. “Why didn’t you let me know this earlier?” she says quietly.
“It just happened,” Astrape says. “We have it under control and we’re shipping him back. We didn’t want to bother you with unimportant details. He’s only a Ganymede. He thought he was going to lose his job and he lost his mind. You know how those weak Earthlings can be.”
“Why would he think he would lose his job?” Hera says with a furrowed brow, while looking back and forth at both Bronte and Astrape. The two goddesses are silent and frozen in place. Hera gets up and walks over to a window to look out at the stars. The jewels in hair tremble ever so slightly.
“He wasn’t a very good Ganymede,” Bronte says. “He was going to have to be replaced eventually. He figured it out.”
“We’re sorry we didn’t tell you, Hera,” Astrape says, “it was just a personnel issue. We didn’t think it mattered to you.”
Hera comes back from her post at the window looking at the stars, and stands in front of the goddesses. The goddesses are still seated on the ground from where they had been doing Hera’s nails. Their former fire and fury have been entirely extinguished. Hera towers over them and her gaze hardens.
“Everything that happens here is my concern. Everything that happens with Zeus is my concern. He can have other women, but there will never be another first wife. I am queen of heaven. Even the stars are under my command. Do you like the stars?”
“Poor Astrape and Bronte,” Hermes says, “I think she’s going to turn them into constellations. I guess I’ll never have that drink with them.”
“They’re goddesses too,” Katie says. “That’s not something she can do easily.”
Hera appears to have thought this through too, and she abruptly changes tactics. She smiles at Astrape and Bronte and asks if they are finished with her mani-pedi. The goddesses answer yes.
“Thank you,” Hera says, “I wonder if the nail polish will survive the transformation.” As she says this, the air around Hera begins to shake and shift. Her form becomes unfocused, like we are looking at a hastily shot picture taken from far away. The blurring becomes swirling until nothing of substance can be seen. She spins around in front of us like a mini-tornado.
The swirling gradually slows down and lengthens and flattens. Hera’s shape has entirely changed. Standing in front of us is a fully-grown female lion. She looks like she could be straight out of the Serengeti. Brandon and I involuntarily leap backwards away from her. Even Hermes and Katie look nervous. The lion lifts one of her front paws, as if to check on her claws, and it is indeed painted purple. With a swing of her tail, Hera the lion trots off and out the door. From down the hall we can hear her roar.
Chapter Eleven
The video is now being shot from inside Ganymede’s prison room. Ganymede is sitting on the floor of his cage with his head in his hands, looking like he is regretting his life choices. Yeah, dude, maybe you shouldn’t have pointed an atomic level weapon at our heads. You might like to rethink your attraction to shiny objects too. Being a Chippendale dancer on that cruise-ship must be looking pretty good about now.
Ganymede stretches out his legs and gingerly rests his head back against the bars of the cage. He’s careful to avoid touching any of the fresh burn tracks within the cage, some of which are still smoking. He closes his eyes, as if he’s trying to sleep. There is a low rumbling sound, like the sound of a big cat purring, and Ganymede’s eyes bolt open.
“She’s back,” he whispers to himself, “she’s back with the thunder.” Ganymede beings to shake and whimper.
Hera the lion slinks into the room on silent pads. Ganymede sees her and leaps to his feet. He looks terrified. He runs to the far side of the cage and clutches at the bars.
“Oh, my God, she’s going to eat me,” Ganymede gasps. The lion walks over to the cage and rubs her body against the bars. She crosses back and forth several times, taking her hide across the bars like a housecat trying to satisfy an itch. She emits a low purr as she moves around that reverberates throughout the room.
The steady purr and the soft movements of the lion have a soothing quality. Ganymede looks entranced by the slow pace of the regal feline. He lets go of the bars and his arms come to rest at his sides. He has stopped shaking and his eyes look sleepy. After a while, Ganymede sinks to the ground and simply watches Hera.
The lion makes a few more passes of rubbing her sides across the bars and then sits down and lifts a front paw to her mouth. She slowly and meticulously grooms her paw while she quietly purrs. Watching the big cat at her gentle work is like watching an ASMR video. I find myself feeling more relaxed. I look over at Brandon and he seems calm too. Ganymede is quietly seated watching Hera. His head tilts left as he watches Hera grooming her right paw. She goes to work on her left paw and Ganymede tilts his head the other way to follow her work.
“Purple claws,” Ganymede says, “nice.”
The lion stops grooming and sits staring into the cage. She is making direct eye contact with Ganymede. The cat has large light brown eyes that stare impassively at the prisoner. Ganymede leans forward so he can get a better look at the lion’s face. He crawls towards the front of the cage and he is within a foot of the lion. All the lion would have to do now to injure Ganymede is swipe a paw through the cage bars. Ganymede seems oblivious to the danger and only continues looking deeply into the lion’s eyes.
“Zeus left quickly because he knew you were coming and he was afraid to be here,” Ganymede says, as if he is answering a question. The lion continues to purr and stare at Ganymede.
“He was afraid you would hurt Marcella, his girlfriend. They left so quickly they forgot to take me. I don’t know where they went.”
The lion comes closer to the cage and presses her snout against the bars. She opens her mouth to lick her nose and there is a glimpse of her large, sharp canines. She settles down into a prone position in front of the cage and slips her two front paws through the bars. Ganymede comes forward and gingerly pets the paws. The lion squints her eyes and her purring becomes louder.
“He came back here to pick up Marcella’s daughter from Earth. Apparently, it’s about to blow. Oh, you don’t think so? Yeah, there’s no real consensus about this on Earth either. Marcella picked up her daughter and some guy. I think he may have been her boyfriend. He was trying to get my job. He was a real weasel of a guy. As if he knew anything about cup keeping. Hermes was with them too. They all took off in another transport ship after Zeus and Marcella left. I don’t know where they went. Do you think Marcella and Zeus had a daughter?”
The cat momentarily releases her claws from her paws and they scratch the floor of the cage. She throws her head back and opens her mouth to let out a loud roar. Ganymede drops back in alarm. Some kind of spell has been broken and he realizes he is inches away from a fully-grown lioness. The lion withdraws her paws from the cage and leaps to her feet. She paces around in a tight circle until she is moving so quickly she is a blur of fur and claws. Then all at once, she comes into focus again, and the goddess Hera is standing in front of us. Ganymede’s mouth drops open and he begins shaking again.
“Ganymede,” Hera says soothingly, “what a terrible experience for you. You thought you had lost the favor of Zeus and couldn’t sit at his side any longer. We all know that is the worst thing that could happen to a person. The court is going to see that and will rule firmly on your side. There’s no hurry to get you back to Olympus for trial. I’m heading to Mars for the Mars Gala. Would you like to accompany me?”
Ganymede looks shocked. “You want me to come with you?” he says. “I feel so honored. Yes, I would love to come, thank you!”
Hera smiles. With her high cheekbones and large eyes, I can see a hint of the feline that she was moments ago. “It will be fun,” Hera says. “The gala is always a great party. A handsome man like you is wasted on a spaceship. You need to be where you can be seen. Let’s get Astrape and Bronte in here to clean you up. We’ll have to pack some clothes too.”
At the mention of Astrape and Bronte, the color drains from Ganymede’s face. Hera doesn’t seem to notice, and pulls out her phone and texts them. The two goddesses come into the room. At the sight of Ganymede, Astrape’s eyes begin to turn red, and the ends of Bronte’s hair are sparking.
“Ganymede is coming with me,” Hera says. “Please get him ready so he can go to the gala with me.”
Astrape breathes out a puff of black smoke and her red eyes blaze. Hera looks at her steadily, and Astrape blinks back the red in her eyes until they turn brown again. “We will see to his trial later,” Hera says quietly to the two goddesses. “I have need of him where I’m going. He could be useful. Remember, any servant of Zeus’s is a servant of mine.” She’s talking about Ganymede, but the way she says it makes me thinks Hera considers herself the boss of Astrape and Bronte as well. Astrape and Bronte exchange looks and I wonder if they can communicate with each other telepathically. After a moment, Astrape reaches into her pocket for the key to the cage.
The video of the spaceship ends and the scene evaporates around us. We are back in Katie’s library.
“I am surprised she’s coming here,” Katie says, “she never goes to Mars. She avoids my house here as much as you do, Hermes.”
Hermes ignores the jab. “Not to mention, her son is on Mars right now,” he says. “She should know that Hephaestus is sponsoring the gala. That should be enough reason for her to avoid coming to Mars at all costs.”
“Hephaestus is her son?” Brandon asks. “Why wouldn’t she want to see her son?” Hermes and Katie ignore his question and go off to the end of the room behind a stack of books to talk privately.
“Let me tell you a story about Hera’s motherly love,” I say. I sit down on a love seat and pat the space beside me as a signal for him to join me. His leather tunic squeaks against the seat as he sits down.
“Hera had Hephaestus out of spite,” I say. Brandon lifts one eyebrow in confusion. “She was mad at Zeus and wanted to have a child without him so she had Hephaestus. But when Hephaestus was born, he wasn’t good-looking enough for Hera and she rejected him. She tossed him down the side of Olympus and according to the myths, he permanently injured his foot.” Brandon shakes his head and his eyes grow large.
“What’s this lady the goddess of again?” Brandon says.
“Birth and marriage,” I say. “I know. She’s terrible at it. Maybe the gods should have had job interviews instead of relying completely on nepotism.”
“Poor Hephaestus was abandoned by his own mother,” Brandon says. I feel a catch in my throat and I cough to make it go away.
“His story gets sadder,” I say. “Zeus didn’t think he could get his own wife, so when Aphrodite came along, Zeus arranged a marriage between them. Aphrodite is the goddess of love and beauty. She’s drop-dead gorgeous. Zeus thought it best to have her married so that the gods wouldn’t fight over her. But, of course, he didn’t ask her what she wanted, and she did not want Hephaestus. He tried to be a good husband. Hephaestus doted on her and made her beautiful jewelry. She didn’t care. She cheated on him constantly. The poor guy was rejected by his mother and then his wife.”
“Now I feel bad again that we are planning to steal from him,” Brandon says.
“Yeah, but keep in mind what we’re doing it for,” I say. “We’ll have to make sure he doesn’t catch us because he did have a vengeful streak. When he had to grow up without his mother’s love, he created a beautiful golden throne for Hera as a gift and had it sent to Olympus. He couldn’t take it there himself because, of course, he was banned.”
“Hephaestus was the blacksmith and jeweler. He could make anything. Hera loved the gift, but when she sat her mean ass down on the seat, invisible, unbreakable chains appeared and Hera was trapped in the throne. She was trapped there for days and Hephaestus wasn’t going to let her go. None of the gods could persuade him to release her. Eventually, Dionysus, the wine god, got Hephaestus drunk on sweet wine. Lucky for Hera, Hephaestus is a nice drunk, not a mean drunk. He finally let her go.”
“Did Hephaestus get punished?” Brandon asks. “The consequences of tying up the queen and Zeus’s wife must be pretty bad.”
“Not at all!” I say. “That’s when Zeus decided he should marry Aphrodite. They gave him a gorgeous palace on Mount Olympus too.”
