Princess Alcmene looked very proud. Then she frowned. “We’ve never had a snake problem in the palace,” she said. “I wonder if I should call an exterminator.”

  “Don’t bother,” I told her. “Hera sent those serpents. You know how she feels about Zeus’s sons by his former wives.”

  Princess Alcmene sighed. “My baby will be in constant danger. Will you watch over him, Hades?”

  “I . . . uh . . . ” I looked from her to the big baby. He was gooing and gaaing up a storm. I hadn’t noticed before—he had dimples. Adorable! What is it about babies that makes them so hard to resist?

  “You are his uncle, after all,” added the princess.

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll try to protect him from Hera. But I can’t guarantee that I’ll be successful. Hera is one tough baklava.” I thought for a moment. “Have you given the baby a name?”

  “No,” said Alcmene. “I can’t decide between Chickapeckeus and Duckawaddleus.”

  “Heavy-duty names, Alcmene,” I said. “You know, I think Hera might let up on your baby if you named him after her.”

  “You’re joking, right?” said the princess.

  “No joke,” I said. “It’s the sort of thing we gods and goddesses take very seriously. What about calling him Heracles? It means ‘for the glory of Hera.’”

  Princess Alcmene groaned. “I can’t, Hades,” she said. “I just can’t. Every time I say his name, I’ll think of that horrible goddess.”

  “Shhhh!” I cautioned her. “She might have one of her spies listening.” I thought for a moment. “I know. You can call him by the Roman version of the name—Hercules.”

  “Hercules.” The princess smiled. “That has a nice ring to it. All right, Hades. Hercules it is.”

  I smiled, too. I’d just named my first baby!

  The very next week, I went up to Mount Olympus. It was the last thing I wanted to do. But a promise is a promise, and I’d promised to help Hercules. I went straight to the ridiculously oversized palace where Hera lived. I told the door-opening nymphs I wanted to talk to Hera, and they showed me into the sitting room.

  Hera took her time, but at last she came into the room, all smiles. “Hades!” she said. “So good to see you.”

  “You too, Hera,” I said. “Listen, I’ve got some very nice news for you.”

  Hera sat down. “Tell me,” she said. “I could use some good news. I’ve just had this huge fight with Artemis. I found her hunting right outside one of my temples! I mean, if she has to stalk around in the woods half naked with her bow and arrows all the time, which apparently she does, can’t she do it outside one of her own temples?” Hera let out a big sigh. “Anyway, Hades, tell me the good news.”

  “Well, remember that big baby?” I said. “The one you and Athena found on the side of the road?”

  Hera’s smile quickly vanished. “I’ll get that big baby,” she growled.

  “No, listen,” I said quickly. “The baby’s mother worships you, Hera. She is so sorry she offended you. Not that it’s her fault, exactly,” I added. “But she wanted to find a way to make it up to you. And so she has named her baby in your honor.”

  “She named her boy Hera?”

  “No,” I said. “She named him Hercules. It’s Roman. It means ‘for the glory of Hera.’”

  Hera stared at me, unsmiling. She folded her arms across her chest. “Is that your nice news, Hades?”

  I nodded. “It’s not every day you get a baby named to glorify you, is it?”

  “Oh, go tell it to Zeus,” Hera said. “He’d probably believe you. But not me, Hades. I can see through your clever little scheme.” She stood up. “And I’m still going to get that baby!” She whirled around and marched off in a huff. She left me sitting there wishing I’d let Princess Alcmene name the boy Chickapeckeus.

  Now I was really worried about Hercules. Whenever Persephone was away, I dashed up to Thebes to check on him. And since Persephone lives up on earth for nine months of the year, I was up in Thebes quite a bit. Sometimes I put on my Helmet of Darkness and just checked to make sure Hercules was okay. But other times, I left off the helmet and hung out with the little guy. He was cute, even if he did look a lot like Zeus. And when he called me Uncle Hades, I have to say, it warmed my godly heart.

  Princess Alcmene was a lovely young mortal, and before long she married again. This time she picked a nice, steady mortal for a husband, Amphitryon. Of course, Princess Alcmene told her new husband that Hercules was Zeus’s son. She told Hercules, too, even though the boy was much too young to understand what having T-BAMZ for a dad really meant.

  Amphitryon was fond of his stepson. And he could see that with the right training, such a big strong toddler could become a big strong hero. So when Hercules turned five, Amphitryon decided to give him a hero’s education.

  Amphitryon called on experts from all over the world to come and train young Hercules. If he’d asked me, I would have told him just to get the kid a couple of good wrestling partners. But he didn’t ask. So I kept my mouth shut.

  One teacher showed Hercules how to race a chariot. One showed him how to shoot a bow and arrow. One taught him boxing. One trained him in long-distance running. Finally one came who taught him to wrestle. I was glad about that! Another teacher taught him how to lead an army into battle. Hercules loved all this physical training. He learned quickly. He was so big and strong that he soon out-raced, out-shot, out-boxed, out-ran, out-wrestled, and out-led-into-battle all his teachers.

  Amphitryon wanted young Hercules to have a well-balanced education, so he also hired tutors to teach him how to read, write, count, write poetry, sing, and play charades. Hercules was okay at charades, but he wasn’t exactly a whiz at the sitdown-at-a-desk exercises. He did learn to count up to X. And if he took off his shoes, he could count up to XX. He read Froggius and Toadius all the way to the last page. Eventually he learned to write and even made up a few poems. This one is my favorite:

  Zeus is my Dad.

  I call him my pappy.

  He has lots of thunderbolts.

  I hope he won’t zap me.

  — by Hercules, age 6 ½

  But when it came to singing, Hercules was a disaster. And he knew it.

  Princess Alcmene and Amphitryon seemed very disappointed that the boy couldn’t learn to sing. So, on a day when I knew Zeus was away on business, I went up to Mount Olympus again. This time I went to see Polyhymnia, the muse of music.

  “Hey, Poly,” I said when I found her just outside her muse bungalow. She was standing atop a little hill, practicing her scales.

  “Do re mi fa so la ti—Hades!” sang Polyhymnia. “What brings you here to see mi-mi-mi?”

  I sat down on a bench nearby. “My nephew, Hercules,” I told her. “He’s Zeus’s son, actually. Not that Zeus gives a fig one way or the other. Hercules is studying singing, but the boy can’t carry a tune in a bucket. Maybe he could learn, though. He’s only seven. You think there’s anything you could do to help him?”

  “If anyone can help him, it’s mi-mi-mi-mi-mi!” sang Polyhymnia.

  I told her when Hercules’s next singing lesson was, and on the appointed day, Polyhymnia dropped by the palace music room. I was there, too. I didn’t want Hercules to feel too much pressure, so I wore my helmet.

  “All right, my boy,” said his music teacher, Linus. “Start warming up your voice.”

  Hercules opened his mouth and sang, “Augggghhhhhh!”

  That was all it took to send Polyhymnia running from the room with her hands over her ears. I caught up with her just before she ran out the gates of Thebes. I persuaded her to come and sit with me at a little café and calm down.

  “Do-do-do-do-don’t ever let him sing again!” she sang as the waiter brought our cappuccinos. “He sounds just like his fa-fa-fa-fa-father.”

  “Zeus is tone deaf?” I asked. Who knew? “So there’s nothing you can do?”

  “Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fahgeddaboutit!” sang Polyhymnia.

  But Linus refused to give up on his pupil. Twice a week he came to the palace to give Hercules his singing lessons. I happened to be there for the very last one.

  “Do re me fa so la ti do!” sang Linus as he plucked the strings of his lyre. “Now you try it, Hercules.”

  “It’s time for my archery lesson,” said Hercules.

  “First, the scales,” said Linus.

  “Oh, dang,” said Hercules.

  “Sing NOW!” ordered Linus.

  Hercules drew a deep breath and sang: “Do re me fa fee foe foo!”

  “No!” Linus cried. He drew back his hand and slapped Hercules right across the face.

  BIG boo-boo!

  No one had ever hit Hercules before. His eyes flashed with anger. His chubby face turned bright red. He grabbed Linus’s lyre and heaved it at his teacher, knocking him flat.

  “Oops!” said Hercules, when he realized what he’d done. He quickly picked up his teacher—even at age seven, he was that strong—and carried him through the palace to his old nursemaid.

  The nursemaid looked at the big bump rising around Linus’s left eye.

  “He’ll live,” she said. “But he’s going to have quite a shiner.”

  Finally Linus came to. “Ooooh,” he moaned. “Uh, sorry about slapping you, Hercules.”

  “Sorry about bonking you with the lyre,” said Hercules. “It was an accident—sort of.”

  The two forgave each other.

  But Linus was never quite the same after that. He took to wearing a dead fish over his left eye. He said its scales reminded him never to make Hercules sing his scales if he didn’t want to.

  Hercules kept growing bigger and stronger. Most of the time, he was a kindhearted boy. But when Hercules got angry, “accidents” seemed to happen.

  I stopped by the palace one afternoon when Hercules was around nine. I only meant to stay a couple of minutes, so I had on my helmet.

  Princess Alcmene was out on the royal lawn with her son and his cousin, Eurystheus. Hercules was big, brawny, and healthy. Eury was pale, scrawny, and had a seriously runny nose. The boys were total opposites.

  “Why don’t you two play a game of catch?” Princess Alcmene said. She tossed her son a ball and went back into the palace.

  “Catch, Eury!” called Hercules. He threw it.

  Eury missed it.

  “Wild throw!” Eury wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Go get the ball.”

  “No problem,” said Hercules. He went after it.

  Eury was a creepy little kid. But Hercules was being nice to him. I thought maybe he’d outgrown his bad temper. Wrong!

  “Catch!” called Hercules. Once more he threw the ball to his cousin.

  It was an easy little blooper of a throw. But Eury missed it.

  “Wild throw! Wild throw!” whined Eury. “Get the ball yourself.”

  “Okay,” said Hercules, and he did.

  “I’m ready,” called Eury. “Ready for someone else to play catch with!”

  “I’ll aim it better this time!” said Hercules. He threw the ball.

  BONK!

  It hit Eury right between the eyes.

  “Oops!” said Hercules.

  “Aunt Alcmene!” Eury cried, running toward the palace. His nose was running like crazy. “Hercules hit me with the ball!”

  “It was an accident,” said Hercules when his mother rushed outside. “I was trying to throw it so he could catch it.” He turned to his cousin. “Sorry, Eury.”

  “He did it on purpose!” Eury told Princess Alcmene.

  “Did not,” said Hercules.

  I believed him.

  But his mother wasn’t so sure.

  “All right, Hercules,” she said. “You get a time-out.”

  Hercules had to sit on a stump for fifteen minutes and watch while his mom played catch with his slimy cousin.

  When his time-out was over, Hercules got the ball back.

  “Play nicely!” Princess Alcmene said, and she went back inside.

  “Catch!” said Hercules. He threw a gentle, underhand toss.

  Eury missed again.

  “You can’t throw the ball!” chanted Eury. “You can’t throw at all!”

  Hercules’s eyes began to flash with anger. His face turned red.

  I thought about whipping off my helmet and trying to calm him down. But to tell you the truth, I was half ready for Hercules to get back at that little stinker.

  “I’m not chasing that ball,” said Eury. “If you want it, go get it.”

  Hercules ran and picked up the ball. “Heads up!” he called, and he threw it.

  BONK!

  The ball hit Eury on the top of his head and bounced off.

  “Ow!” cried Eury.

  Hercules caught the ball in the air and threw it again.

  BONK!

  “Ow! OW!” cried Eury.

  And again.

  BONK!

  “Auntieeeeee!” cried Eury.

  When Eury’s mother came to pick him up, she was horrified. “Eurystheus!” she cried. “Your little head! It’s . . . it’s all lumpy!”

  Eury wiped his nose on his sleeve and pointed at Hercules. “He did it!”

  “Beast!” Eury’s mother yelled at Hercules.

  “Hercules is sorry,” said Princess Alcmene. “He wants to apologize!”

  But Eury’s mother dragged Eury off. Later, I heard that she spread the word to all the other moms in Thebes. She told them not to let their kids play with Hercules. That he was out of control.

  After that, I didn’t see Hercules for a while. No reason, really. I was busy in the Underworld. Then one day an invitation came:

  Hercules is turning X!

  Please come to his surprise birthday party

  Next Saturday at X :00

  On the day of the party, I showed up. I’d brought the kid a great present—a complete set of Immortals of Wrestling cards. Very rare. Worth a fortune.

  “Welcome, Hades!” said Princess Alcmene. “You’re the first to arrive. We’ve invited every boy and girl in Thebes to come, too. They’ll be here any minute.”

  “Is Eury coming?” I asked.

  “No, he and his mom moved to Mycenae,” said the princess. “But there will be lots and lots of kids.”

  But an hour later, only a two-year-old boy had shown up, little Theseus. His mother had brought him all the way from Troezen, which was why she hadn’t heard about Hercules’s temper.

  When Hercules came into the nearly empty palace yard, he wasn’t disappointed because he didn’t know about the party. He was just happy to have such an enormous birthday cake all for himself and Theseus, who was too little to eat very much.

  “This is a wake-up call, Alcmene,” said Amphitryon after Theseus had gone home and the “party” was over. “We have to do something about Hercules,” said Amphitryon. “His terrible temper has made him an outcast.”

  “The boy doesn’t know his own strength,” Alcmene admitted. “He could hurt someone someday.” She turned to me. “You’re his uncle, Hades. Can he come and stay with you for a while?”

  “I’d like to help you out with this, Alcmene,” I told her. “Really, I would. But live mortals aren’t allowed down in the Underworld. Sorry.”

  “My second cousin Humus and his wife, Pita, have a dairy farm out in the middle of nowhere,” Amphitryon said. “Why don’t we send Hercules there? Cows are peaceful, mellow creatures. Maybe if he tends cows for a while, Hercules will mellow, too.”

  “All right,” said Alcmene. “But you have to tell him.”

  “No, you,” said Amphitryon.

  In the end, they decided to write Hercules a note.

  I felt bad for Hercules, being banished and all. So I put on my helmet and stuck around—just in case he needed me.

  That night, Hercules brushed his teeth, as usual. He put on his PJs. He was climbing into bed when he spied the note. He picked it up and began sounding out the words.

  “Awesome!” he said when he’d read the whole thing and looked at the map Amphitryon had drawn on the back.

  Right away, he started packing. He didn’t wait for morning, but set off in the moonlight, following the map. I set off with him, though he didn’t know it at the time.

  Hercules walked for three whole nights and three whole days. Even though he was only ten, he was bigger than most men. And many times stronger. So he felt completely safe out on his own.

  On the morning of the fourth day, Hercules came to a farm. It was out in the middle of nowhere, just as Amphitryon had said.

  “Whoa!” said Hercules. He looked very surprised. Was this where he was supposed to have an adventure? He knocked at the farmhouse door.

  “You must be Hercules,” said his stepfather’s second cousin, when he opened it. “Welcome! You look like a good worker. Let’s get you started, shall we?”

  “Let him eat breakfast first, Humus,” said his wife.

  “Have it your way, Pita,” said Humus.

  Humus and Pita laid out a huge spread of dairy products from their cows: cottage cheese, cream cheese, yogurt, and butter. Hercules ate a big breakfast. I managed to snag a piece of cheese for myself. I sprinkled on some of my Ambro-Salt, and it wasn’t half bad. When Hercules was finished eating, Humus and Pita walked him out to the barn.

  Hercules patted the first big black-and-white cow he came to. “Nice cow,” he said. “Can I take care of this one?”

  “You get to take care of the whole herd,” said Humus.

  Hercules looked down on the row of stalls. There were hundreds of cows. Hercules smiled. “No problem!”

  I stuck around for a couple of weeks. I waited until Hercules got into a routine. Each morning, he fed the cows hay. Then he led them to the pasture to graze. While the cows were grazing, Hercules mucked out the barn. This was no small task, as it was a huge barn with lots and lots of muck.

  In the evening, Hercules put out fresh hay for the cows. He filled their troughs with fresh water. After that, he went to the pasture and led his cows back to the barn for the night. He sat with them until they fell asleep. Then Hercules climbed into his own bed, which was in the barn, and fell asleep, too.

 

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