Four Stories E-Book

Marcus Attwater

• Herausgeber: Mijnbestseller.nl
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 216

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

"Apollo thumped the steering wheel in frustration. They were such a sorry excuse for a family. Playing at being human. Like Hermes, when they'd said goodbye: 'Come and see me'. They always said things like that. 'Come and visit', 'Let's have lunch', 'We'll keep in touch'. They never did. He had never seen Hermes' Manhattan apartment, and Hermes had never been to San Francisco. They would see each other only at funerals, if gods had funerals." After several millennia, Apollo feels rather tired of featuring in the same myths over and over. So when Hera calls a family conference because his sister Helen has been kidnapped (or has run off with a man – interpretations differ on that) he is more interested in catching up with his favorite brother. Maybe this time around the story will be different? These four stories transpose classical myth to an early twenty-first century setting, dealing with different kinds of brothers and different kinds of love: Apollo and Hermes, Castor and Pollux, Orestes and Pylades, Alexander and Hephaistion all encounter difficulties their old archetypes never had to worry about…

Leseprobe

Four Stories

Trojan

God’s Boys

Parnassus

White Island

Marcus Attwater

ISBN: 9789403635453

Collection © Marcus Attwater 2021

Trojan 2007

God’s Boys 2009

Parnassus 2011

White Island 2011

Cover design by the author

Trojan

Apollo was hurriedly packing a bag. Clean shirt, underwear, socks. Toothbrush, deodorant, razor. His hand hovered over the packet of condoms – you never knew did you? – in they went. Keys, phone, wallet. Guitar on his back. Ready. He clattered down the front door steps and out into the street, where a taxi was already waiting to take him to the airport. He made it just in time for check-in. Only when the plane had taken off, climbing the clear California sky, did he have time to reflect on what he was hurrying towards. In a few hours this plane would deposit him in Washington, and then it was an easy drive to his father’s house in Mount Olympus. He looked out of the window, flying toward the rising sun, and wondered what had prompted his stepmother to call a family gathering at such short notice.

By the time Apollo swung his hired car onto Cypress Avenue, most of the family was already there. He could see Ares’ battered pick-up parked in the drive, next to Hermes’ sleek silver Audi. He could hear Aphrodite’s laughter coming from indoors as he picked up his overnight bag from the passenger seat and slammed the car door. He heard the reassuring rumble of his father’s voice. Home. Amphitrite was the first to notice his arrival. He was trying to slip in quietly by the kitchen door, but Poseidon’s wife descended in a whoosh of perfume and airborne kisses, crying ‘Darling, you’re here!’, which brought out the complete set of his aunts and sisters to welcome him. Hera first, who was both his aunt and his father’s wife, whom he knew so well that he had long ago short-handed her into ‘mother’. She turned around from the kitchen range long enough to smile at him and say, ‘I’ve put you in the guest room on the second, with Ares and Hermes. Is that alright?’ Apollo nodded, it was all fine by him. Hera’s older sister Hestia said nothing, just squeezed his hand, weakly benevolent through the haze of whatever tranquillizer the doctor had last prescribed. Apollo’s twin sister Artemis came in to give him a short, happy embrace, and for a moment he was almost tearfully glad to be holding his lost half, his equal and his better, both like and unalike. Next Athena appeared, looking faintly disdainful of the emotional outpour going on around her, planting a cool kiss on his cheek. ‘Welcome.’ She was the only one of them to have turned out reasonably human, and Apollo suspected she rather despised the rest of them for not getting a grip. Aphrodite was the last of his sisters to arrive in the kitchen, making an entrance, as usual. She had dressed down for the family weekend, but the tight jeans and sloppy top she wore did nothing to temper her sensuality. As one of the very few males impervious to her charms, Apollo always rather admired Aphrodite’s technique. It was so blatant, but it worked. Her sinuous grace and actressy smile did nothing for him, though. It was her son he had to watch out for. An apparent teenager much too knowing for his age, Eros’s tricks had tripped him up before now. He’d be around somewhere, tagging after Ares or Zeus, trying to prick them with that ridiculous set of arrows he still carried. Fleeing his sister’s overfamiliar clutches, Apollo went to find the rest of his family. In the living room he clapped Ares on the shoulder, hugged Hermes and accepted a drink from Dionysos. He tried to ask his father, whom he found in an edgy discussion with Poseidon on the stairs, what this family meeting was all about, but Zeus would tell him nothing except a gruff, ‘Good to see you, son.’

Apollo dumped his bag and guitar on a bed in the second floor guestroom and on his way back down, stuck his head around the door of the den. Eros and a slightly older boy were sprawled on the couch, eyes and fingers stuck to the consoles of a video game. ‘Hey Apollo,’ Eros said, flicking his gaze upwards long enough to register the presence of his uncle. He nodded his head sideways at the older boy – really rather striking, Apollo thought, despite the teenage slouch – ‘This is Ganymede. He lives here. Hey, I made level six!’

‘Level nine,’ the other boy drawled, unimpressed. Apollo left them to it.

This is Ganymede, he lives here? Another of Zeus’s bastards? He would have to ask his father. He had met all the family now, except for Hades and Persephone, but no one ever saw Hades and Persephone, you just knew they were around.

The doorbell rang. Seeing that no one else had heard – too busy catching up on family gossip, no doubt – Apollo went to open the door. He was confronted by a scruffy youth surmounted by a teetering stack of flat boxes. ‘Titanides’ residence? Ordered sixteen pizzas?’

‘That would be us,’ Apollo confirmed. Hera came in from the kitchen. ‘Ah good, I thought they’d never arrive. We took the liberty of ordering for you, dear, as you weren’t here yet.’ Somehow, the stack of boxes was transferred to Apollo’s hands, and Hera’s money to the boy’s.

‘Food, everyone!’ Hera called. ‘In the living room, I think, we’re not going to be formal tonight. Artemis, fetch those boys out of the den.’

While they were eating, Apollo had a chance to observe his family more closely. He could see that Hera was upset about something, there was that tightness around her mouth which he associated with his father’s frequent infidelities. And sure enough his father looked uneasy, and spoke to his wife cautiously, as if anxious not to disturb her further. But surely that old story wasn’t why they were together? That could hardly be why Athena’s frown had deepened, and Ares looked more than usually belligerent. Apollo searched the faces of his family for an explanation, and suddenly realized he missed one. He hadn’t noticed yet, because he was used to her being more out of the house than in, but his baby sister wasn’t there. Apollo swallowed his last bite of pizza and licked his fingers. ‘Where’s Helen?’

There was immediate silence. Dionysos stopped drunkenly speaking to Athena. Ares ceased in midboast and swiveled away from Aphrodite to look at his mother. Eros and Ganymede stopped talking about computers and looked up, two perfect pictures of innocent curiosity. Hermes quietly put down his last slice of pizza and looked at his father, who had covered his face with one hand. It was Hera who finally spoke, and the words came slowly, as if they cost her much.

‘Helen is in Troy, New York. She’s with a man called Paris Iliades. He has taken her from the heart of her family.’

Apollo felt the heaviness of fate settle around his heart as Hera pronounced this calamity. His sister, his beautiful – even among gods – precious sister, alone among strangers. He saw his own reaction mirrored by his siblings, their faces hardened into awful masks of divine wrath. Ares and Athena had already known, they looked less shocked, but more determined. Hera continued: ‘I called you here together for one purpose. We must bring her back.’

For a moment Apollo was aware of the accord among them, as they were uniquely united, even the shadowy presence of Hades and Persephone, to bring back their stolen child. Their sister, their daughter, their own. Then the moment passed and they talked again, all at once, and as Hera was besieged with questions, Apollo could not even be sure he had really seen Hades, whom no god ever met. The feeling of unity slipped away, and he had to force himself to listen to his stepmother, to keep his mind on what was being said. Hera had called them home to discuss how to get Helen back, and discuss it they did, as irritable and acrimonious, as futile and misguided, as noble and loving as if they were human. And as predictable. Ares recommended brute force. Athena counseled sober negotiation. Aphrodite proposed they should have Paris seduced by another woman. Artemis objected strongly to that suggestion. Dionysos poured more drinks, Hestia grew more confused and Hera more impatient. And Zeus was silent. Apollo, who could think of plenty ways to get Helen back into the fold but was reluctant to have his ideas join the growing heap of discarded plans, finally suggested they all sleep on it that night, and talk about it again when they had had time to think. After that, they dispersed into something more convivial. Hera and Hestia withdrew to the kitchen with Amphitrite. Artemis and Athena played a game of scrabble. Ares was firmly rebuffed by Aphrodite and went to bed early. Hermes joined Eros and Ganymede in the den to watch a movie. And Apollo finally tackled his father with the question that had been nagging at him.

‘This Ganymede, is he another brother?’

‘No, he’s not family,’ Zeus said, ‘I just took a liking to him. Adopted him, sort of.’

There was no misconstruing this ill-fitting euphemism. ‘He’s your lover?’ Apollo grinned, ‘Good for you, dad. But what does Hera think of this development?’

‘Oh, you know. She always likes to have young people around.’

And while this was undeniably true, Apollo had the feeling there were things his father was not telling him. But no more was said about the subject, and having seen quite enough of his family by now, Apollo went to bed.

He’d been asleep for an hour or more when he was woken by the door opening and Hermes coming in. Ares and Apollo had commandeered the room’s twin beds, and in the faint light Apollo could see his brother looking doubtfully at the squeaky camp bed Hera had unearthed from the attic.

‘I wouldn’t bother, if I were you,’ Apollo told him softly, scooting sideways in his bed to make room. Hermes looked relieved. ‘You don’t mind?’

‘Of course not.’

Hermes folded his clothes neatly over a chair and climbed into bed in his shorts and t-shirt. He curled up with his back to Apollo, knees almost up to his chin. Apollo slipped an arm around him and drew him back so they fitted together comfortably. So close, Hermes smelt fresh and clean, like an evening just after rain. Apollo breathed in deeply. So different from his sunny-salty self.

‘Hey little brother,’ he whispered into Hermes’ curly hair. Trailing down his hand, he stroked the tiny, soft-feathered wings on his brother’s ankles. ‘How do you hide them?’

‘Fold them upwards and never wear short socks,’ Hermes replied with a closely confined shrug. In the other bed Ares snored and rolled over heavily. Good, Apollo thought, he’s dead to the world. He turned Hermes around a little, onto his back, so he could kiss the side of his mouth. But when Apollo gently pushed his tongue between his lips Hermes pulled away. ‘No.’

Disappointed, Apollo let go. But Hermes caught his hand and firmly held his arm in place. Apollo sighed and hugged him. Hermes was the only member of his family who wasn’t predictable. You never really knew where you were, with Hermes.

Apollo woke with the dawn, as he always did, an unfortunate side-effect of people connecting him with the sun. But today he decided that nothing would be gained by rising early, and he allowed himself to drift off again. He woke up later when Ares got out of bed and left the room. Hermes was still asleep, or pretending to be, his upper body turned away from his brother. Apollo lay looking at him for a moment, before moving close again and taking him in his arms. He was met with a sleepily acquiescent mumble. Hermes’ t-shirt had ridden up, leaving the small of his back exposed, and Apollo rubbed himself against the warm, smooth skin, while his hand sought to free Hermes’ cock from his tight shorts. This intimate touch seemed to wake Hermes up completely. ‘Kiss,’ he commanded, twisting around to face Apollo. They rolled over, Apollo on top, kissing hungrily while their hands groped about lower down. Then Hermes flipped about onto his belly, in a quick, slithering move. Apollo pulled the shorts down and pressed a hand onto his buttocks, sliding his middle finger in between. Hermes expelled his breath in a choked, jagged ‘Oh,’ and clamped a hand onto Apollo’s thigh. Condom, Apollo thought, with the small part of him that was still rational, in my bag. Hermes grunted in protest as he took his hand away, so he started to kiss him again in compensation while he flailed around on the floor for his bag. Just as his fingers hooked on the strap, there was a knock on the door. Before either of them could call out ‘Just a moment!’, their father came in.

‘Boys, I need to talk to you,’ Zeus said, sitting down on the other bed, without paying attention to his sons’ strenuous efforts to disentangle. ‘It’s about this business that’s upset Hera.’

For a moment Apollo had trouble recollecting what he was talking about. His whole body was aching for Hermes, only inches away, and he focused on his father with uncomprehending reluctance. Hermes, meanwhile, tucked himself back into his shorts, pulled down his t-shirt and said, uncharacteristically snappish, ‘What about it?’

‘It’s all my fault, I’m afraid.’

This confession of guilt finally woke Apollo up to the fact that something was seriously wrong. It wasn’t like Zeus not to make some suitably lecherous remark when he found two of his sons on the brink of a fuck. It certainly wasn’t like him to shoulder the blame for anything when there were plenty others about to hand it to. Apollo sat up, decorously pulled the sheets up to his waist, and looked into his father’s handsomely lined face. ‘Start at the beginning, please.’

‘This family in Troy, the Iliades, Hera and I used to be friendly with them. We knew their forefathers, you see. And they know what we are, they have the blood themselves, from way back. Well, we would visit Troy sometimes, or they would come to Mount Olympus. A few months ago we were invited to the youngest daughter’s wedding. The whole Iliades family was there, of course, and Ganymede was among them. He’s some sort of cousin. Well, you know how it is at a wedding, ‘How do you know the happy couple?’ etc. We got to talking, and I invited him to come and stay in Mount Olympus whenever he liked.’

‘You kidnapped him,’ Hermes said flatly.

Zeus looked affronted. ‘Does he look kidnapped to you? He was glad to get away, he came to stay the same week. And he likes it here.’

‘But the Iliades didn’t like it,’ Apollo supplied, with a weary sense of the inevitable, ‘They want their golden boy back.’

‘Exactly,’ Zeus confirmed, ‘They sent this Paris here to fetch him. But Ganymede had already shared our food.’

‘Which means that he could only leave of his own accord,’ Hermes finished for him. ‘And he did not want to leave, and you couldn’t make him go even if you wanted to.’

‘He didn’t go with Paris. He doesn’t want to be with his family, he says his father is an ignorant tyrant and his mother’s compulsively possessive.’

Apollo smiled. ‘And you believed him? I’m sure that’s what I said about you when I was eighteen. Was I ever eighteen?’ he added, diverted by this idea.

‘If you were, I’m sure I wouldn’t have kept you home against your will,’ Zeus said.

‘We’re getting away from the point,’ Hermes said impatiently, ‘You said the Iliades sent Paris here. What happened next?’

‘Well, basically, he couldn’t budge Ganymede, so he took Helen. Like an exchange of hostages.’

‘So we could just swap them, then?’ Apollo said, briefly hopeful.

‘In principle, yes. Only… well, you see, your mother doesn’t know Ganymede is the reason Paris came here. As far as she knows, Paris has abducted Helen without provocation. I’ve kept quiet about Ganymede’s origins. Hera thinks Ganymede is just another of your brothers. I though it better if—’

‘She didn’t know,’ Apollo finished, ‘What a fucking mess!’

‘Ganymede really doesn’t want to go home to Troy?’ Hermes asked.

Zeus shook his head. ‘He says he won’t be fetched home like a child.’

‘Bet that now they’ve got your favorite daughter, you’d gladly put him out on the streets,’ Hermes said, unwontedly vicious. Apollo thought this was unfair, but it was beside the point, anyway. Ganymede had shared their food, and if he went, it would be of his own free will.

‘I do want my daughter back,’ Zeus said soberly, ‘And Hera is beside herself. I just thought you two should know the whole situation.’

‘And when are you going to tell mo— Hera?’ Hermes wanted to know.

‘I’m not sure now’s the right time…’

‘Father, as far as you are concerned never would be the right time. But she’ll find out, you know, she always does,’ Apollo told him.

‘Maybe later today,’ his father said unconvincingly, ‘When we’ve got a plan. She’ll feel better then.’

Hermes swung his legs out of bed. ‘I’m getting up, I can’t think about this lying down.’

‘Good idea,’ Apollo said, lying through his teeth while he watched his last hope that they would be allowed to conclude unfinished business evaporate. ‘Father, you really must talk to Hera, before she sets Ares loose among the Iliades. We don’t need that kind of trouble.’

‘I suppose not,’ Zeus replied, getting to his feet. ‘You’d better get up and dressed, too. Family meeting after breakfast.’

Apollo sighed. ‘Yes, father.’

But they did not wait until after breakfast. Over the bowls of cereal and painfully strong cups of coffee the discussion had already started up again. Apollo ate his cornflakes and listened. Ares was still advocating violence. Hermes and Artemis, more sensibly, were discussing a subtler approach. ‘Have to know what we’re dealing with first,’ he heard Hermes say, ‘I mean, why have they chosen to take Helen?’ Apollo supposed this was Hermes’ oblique way of introducing the subject of Ganymede, but if their father was listening, he didn’t pick up the cue. Zeus was talking to his own brother again. Poseidon, permanently ill-tempered, always had some grievance about the behavior of the younger gods, among whom he counted Zeus. He seemed to think that being abducted by a man from Troy, New York, was just another instance of the undignified antics of the younger generation. What astonished Apollo was that everyone was taking the Iliades’ hostility for granted. Knowing what had led up to Helen’s kidnap, he could believe Paris’ family wasn’t feeling too happy about them right now. But still, that did not exclude another explanation entirely. He said, to no one in particular, ‘How do we know Helen didn’t go with Paris because she wanted to?’

I really must not make a habit of dropping bombshells at mealtimes, Apollo thought while the others looked at him in shocked silence. Aphrodite was the first to find her voice.

‘He was a good-looking man, that Paris.’

‘Aphrodite, be serious,’ Athena snapped.

‘I am being serious, sister,’ Aphrodite said calmly, ‘Maybe Helen fell in love. She’s a woman, just like me and, um, you.’

‘Leave her father’s house for a human?’ Amphitrite exclaimed incredulously, ‘And I always thought she was such a clever girl.’

‘Don’t be silly Amphitrite, of course she hasn’t left us. She was taken, plain and simple,’ Athena argued, unable to credit her sister with such an escapade. Hera looked thoughtful. She clearly had a more realistic view of her stepdaughter’s behavior. That did not change her mind, however.

‘She’s much too young to leave home. Her place is here, with us.’

She’s much too young, Apollo thought, but how young was Helen really? Time did strange things to them. Time had caught Apollo and Hermes permanently in their twenties, Dionysos on the point where things could only get worse, and their father in a vigorous middle age. They had grown, once, in a half-remembered past, but once grown, they did not age. Helen was always sixteen, always almost a woman. And always, to Hera, the eternal mother, too young. Apollo would not be surprised to learn that his sister had joyfully seized her first chance to escape, whether she had really fallen in love with Paris or not. His doubts were quickly relayed to the late-comers at the breakfast table, Dionysos nursing a hang-over, and Eros and Ganymede, both looking as bored as only a teenager could be.

‘So Helen did a runner?’ Eros said, perking up. ‘I don’t blame her. You wouldn’t wanna be stuck in this place forever.’

‘It’s not so bad,’ Ganymede said, clearly anxious to stay on good terms with his new family.

‘Are you kidding?’ Eros said, ‘No movie theatre, no clubs, no bars, the mall is miles away.’

‘You’re too young for bars, anyway,’ Hera told him.

‘Grandma I’m, like, a god? I don’t get carded, I just smile sweetly,’ Eros said, doing just that.

Hera turned to Aphrodite, ‘You’re letting that boy run wild.’

Aphrodite smiled fondly at her son. ‘He takes after his mother, doesn’t he?’

‘Unfortunately,’ Athena said snidely, ‘But we were talking about Helen. I agree with Hera. Even if Paris somehow persuaded her, she’s too young to know her own mind.’

‘Come on Athena, that’s unkind. Helen’s a smart girl, she’s not going to be sweet-talked into anything,’ Hermes said. And so it went. All morning the talk turned on whether Helen had left Mount Olympus of her own free will or not. And it did not greatly help that the older gods’ concept of ‘free will’ was rather hazy. As far as Hera, Hestia and Poseidon were concerned, if her parents wanted Helen home, that was where she should be. Athena, although on more rational grounds, agreed. Ares always sided with his mother. Hermes just wanted the family to stick together. On the other side, Aphrodite was charmed by the romance of her sister’s situation. Artemis defended Helen’s right to make her own choices and Apollo wholeheartedly supported her. Zeus seemed to think the moment had come to be aloof and non-committal; he did not express an opinion either way. They drifted apart, first in knots of three or four, then in pairs, trying to see things from every possible angle – except perhaps Helen’s.

Apollo settled in the swing on the porch with his twin, glad to have her to himself for a moment.

‘So how are you doing? We’ve only talked about Helen so far. How are you?’

‘Oh, you know,’ Artemis shrugged beautifully, ‘I’m fine. The same really.’

Apollo knew. His sister’s life, he imagined, was much like his own. You had your job – because surviving with food and clothes was better than surviving just because you could not die. You had your friends – whom you never dared get too close to, whom you would always have to leave because they grew old and you did not. It wasn’t so strange that Artemis did not want to talk about it. There was nothing she could say. They were both cheerful by nature, but the emptiness of their lives among humans did not bear close scrutiny.

‘Have you heard from mother?’ Artemis now asked.

Apollo knew she did not mean Hera. He shook his head. ‘You know Leto hasn’t spoken to either of us since that business with Niobe’s children.’

Another thing they’d do better not to talk about. They had not followed their mother’s instructions to the letter, and with divine vindictiveness, she had punished them by refusing to see them. Apollo was not sure he even missed her. He was afraid Artemis did.

‘Have you spoken to father? You know there’s more to this business than Helen running off with a lover?’

‘I thought so. That Ganymede, he’s another Iliades, right? I met Paris once, they could be brothers.’

‘Cousins, I think father said.’

Artemis pulled a tired face. ‘You’d think father would know better by now than get into a mess like this.’

‘It’s part of his nature, sis. Fertility and paternity and all that.’

‘Well, I doubt Ganymede is going to give him babies! It’s bad enough Aphrodite thinking she can solve every problem by opening her legs. Don’t they know things aren’t done like that anymore?’

Apollo knew what she meant, knew she was right. They were so old-fashioned, even mankind had caught on by now and become a little more reasonable in their approach to personal interaction. It was just that they would always feel the terrible pull of the old order, as if there were no other examples to follow than that of their philandering father and jealous stepmother. Perhaps Artemis was stronger than he was, standing for her own choices while he went down the path of least resistance, trying to seduce everything in sight and pretending life was nothing but fun and sunshine. No better than my father, he thought, as his better half got up to talk to Hestia and he watched, lazily, how Ganymede and Eros stripped to their shorts to sunbathe on the lawn. Athena sank down next to him. ‘Fruit juice?’ Apollo took the glass distractedly.

‘I’d like to talk to you, if you’re mind isn’t elsewhere,’ Athena said.

Apollo dragged his gaze away, irritated by her tone. ‘Don’t you ever want to do that?’ he asked, trying to needle her, ‘Just want to look at what’s on offer?’

Athena let her gaze travel dispassionately over Ganymede. ‘If it was your sister lying there, maybe,’ she said, with the hint of a smile. Damn! Apollo was always forgetting that Athena wasn’t the frigid spinster Aphrodite pretended she was. She probably got laid more than he did.

‘What did you want to talk about?’