Three Girls and a God (8 page)

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Authors: Clea Hantman

BOOK: Three Girls and a God
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“S
o tell us again, why did you stay over at Claire’s house?” asked Polly. She was being very motherly, and I didn’t appreciate it at the moment. I did appreciate the fact that she’d let us go out to the Donut Hole for breakfast before school, though.

“I had homework that has to be turned in today. I mean, well, you know how Dylan ruined our film and our camera yesterday, so we had to shoot a new film, so Claire lent us her video camera, well, her parents’, actually, and we shot this movie and then we had to edit it on a computer. Man, those things are cool—you’ve got to check this thing out and…”

“Oh, we’ve got computers in my English lab,” said Era with a mouth full of creme.

“Do you know how to use them?” I asked in
wonder. Could my sister be adapting quicker to modern earth life than me? Not possible.

“Yeah, I thought you all had them in your classes.”

“How did I get so left out?” Polly whined. “What does it do?”

“Well, Claire’s makes movies. And that’s what we did, we made a movie. Hey, did you know there’s a statue of Athena at the university?”

“Ommpfh, yeah, I saw a picture of it in my art class,” said Era through a glob of chocolate pudding.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I asked.

“I dunno, I didn’t think of it.”

“Hello, big concrete statue of our cousin in this random town thousands of years away and you don’t think to mention it?” I asked.

“Well, um, not really, yum.” She was licking her fingers.

“So was Dylan there with you at Claire’s?” Polly asked. Her eyebrows were raised in a sort of sideways question mark.

“Well, not all night, if that’s what you mean.” I felt the heat rising to my cheeks. I tried to stop it. I willed it to stay deep-seated and far away from my face.

It was no use.

“Woo wike him, huh?” said Era, chomping.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re just friends.” And then this part I sorta mumbled. “But he is coming over for dinner tonight.”

“What?” Polly said. “You surely don’t like him, then, because you could kill him with your so-called cooking. And the parents thing, what are you going to tell him?” Era just sat way back in her chair and grinned. I shrugged. I’d think of something.

“Well, you know, we won’t be around for dinner this evening,” said Polly.

“Why not?”

“Don’t ask, please, I don’t want to talk about it,” said Era.

“Of course you don’t want to talk about it—it only reminds you of your foolish behavior,” Polly said, and then she turned to me. “Our obstacle race is tonight. At six.” And then I heard an audible groan. From both my sisters.

“What? First on a Sunday and now after school? Doesn’t he know you have lives?”

They both just stared at me with that “duh” look.

“Mr. Hawkins is a sadistic, evil beastling from the nether reaches of Hades, I’m sure of it,” complained Polly.

“He is not! Don’t talk about him like that! Josh is just very serious. He thinks school should extend to all hours of the week, that’s all,” cried Era.

“Don’t start with me, Era. You want to have a crush on him, fine. You want to act like a fool, prancing through mud and carrying a backpack full
of makeup, fine. But don’t you dare tell me that man is ‘cute’ or ‘warm’ or ‘fuzzy.’ He isn’t any of those things. And the day I have to hold my tongue on the matter is the day I am forced to hold my tongue forever!”

“Well, that is just fine by me. I don’t think I want to talk to you anymore, anyway.”

I tried reasoning with them. “Girls, c’mon, stop this, you’re both being unreasonable.”

“I’m not the unreasonable one,” said Polly. “Your sister over there is.”

“Please, Thalia, tell your sister,
she
is being the fool,” said Era.

“I’m not gonna tell her anything of the sort—she’s sitting right here. This is ridiculous.”

“Don’t talk to me about ridiculous, Thalia,” Polly said, looking around at the customers nearby and lowering her voice to a hiss. “Inviting a boy over for dinner?
A
—I thought you wanted to stay away from them,
B
”—and this she whispered—“we don’t have any parents, and
C
—you can’t cook.”

“I can agree with you there,” said Era.

“Don’t talk to me,” said Polly.

Well, this was fun. The only thing they agreed on was my poor cooking skills.

“I thought my food brought us together,” I said.

“Hardly,” replied Polly.

“I’m outta here. You guys can just walk without me,” said Era, and with that she grabbed her stuff and took off through the exit.

Polly wasn’t far behind. “Me too.” And she got up and left, only in the opposite direction, through the other exit.

That left me. Alone, except for a bunch of doughnut-devouring strangers. Alone and wondering what the heck I was gonna cook for dinner.

 

No, this can’t be! What a sour twist of fate!

Thalia still thinks Dylan is her soul mate.

Well, shame on us and bully on her.

No more piddly games, it’s time to make sure

That Dylan and Thalia are eternally severed.

Now here is the plan, which should part them forever.

 

Alek, you’ll play Polly, and Era will be Tizzie.

You’ll take Thalia out, and you’ll keep her very busy

Then I’ll become Thalia, bad shoes and all,

And wait for Apollo, no, Dylan, to call.

 

I’ll trick dear Apollo into thinking I’m his,

He’ll fly back to Olympus in a wink and a whiz,

Thinking his love won’t be too far behind.

To our deception, they both will be blind,

 

And poor little Thalia will be so heartbroken

To find Dylan has left, with no good-bye spoken.

 

Now, we can only do this trick one single time.

It zaps our powers, which is such a crime,

So concentrate, dear girls, this must work like a charm.

It’s our last chance in this book to cause any real harm!

 

I
had decided to just make bean burgers. I didn’t dare try my hand at any more casserole surprises.

I was setting the table when I heard Polly and Era on the front porch, talking in low tones.

“Hey, what happened—why are you two home?” I called out.

“La, la, la, don’t I look beautiful today?” asked Era in a singsong voice.

“What? Of course, always,” I called out. “What happened to your survival class?”

“I survived!” declared Era.

“Oh, the class was canceled—we were so sad,” Polly yelled from the living room.

I came out of the kitchen to see what was up. “What are you talking about? I thought you didn’t even want to go. You were dreading it this morning,” I said.

“No, that’s what she means. We were thrilled, ecstatic,” said Era. “Hey, you want to go get some ice cream, c’mon, please, please, please?”

“What? No, I don’t want to get ice cream. Dylan is coming over for dinner, don’t you remember? And when did you two start talking to each other, anyway? I thought today at the doughnut place, you said that was it, you were through with each other.”

Polly said, “Oh, we made up. No, sisters shouldn’t fight. Thalia, can you look into my eye? I think I might have something in it.”

“I’m kinda busy here. Era, look at Polly’s eye.”

“I can’t. Um, my hands are sticky from all the candy.”

“Fine, let me wash
my
hands. And
I’m
supposed to be the selfish one? All right, Pol, come here.”

“Right in this eye, look straight into it, can you see it?”

“I can’t see anything,” I said.

“Look straight into my eye, straight into my eye, you are feeling woozy.”

“I feel woozy,” I said.

“Now, weren’t we on our way to get some soft serve?” said Era.

And Polly echoed, “Why, yes, I think that is something we all do deserve!”

“I
can’t take it, I just can’t take it,” I moaned to no one in particular.

I was in the middle of the obstacle course, in the middle of the forest, in the middle of my long, torturous death. Me, Era, goddess of love poetry, a Muse, not to mention a pretty darn good-looking supreme being.

Miraculously I was a few paces ahead of Polly, but I didn’t feel like a winner. My only solace, this hot pink sweatshirt I had borrowed from Thalia, was covered in mud. I could feel it cold against my belly. And my legs, they felt heavier than the weight of three plump leprechauns.
*
I couldn’t lift them over another one of those stupid ropes.

Polly was probably fine, I thought bitterly. Sure. She was a little slower, but she liked this dirt stuff.

Oh, my legs. They hurt and they were heavy and I didn’t like them anymore.

And my hair, I couldn’t even think of my hair. It was soggy. And heavy, too.

My legs. No more.

And then my legs, they gave out.

I sat there in a puddle of mud. Still wet, so cold and something far worse than tired. It made me more tired to think about how tired I was, and then, well, I couldn’t help it. I started to cry.

I still had to go uphill for a mile and a half. There was no way I could make it. I cried harder. I wanted to do this for Polly and Thalia, I really did. I wanted to do this for my grade, to show Hera. I wanted to do this to get back home. But it was all gone. All my strength, all my energy, all my goddessness.

Except, well…no.

But no one was around.

No one would see.

I could muster up a little…magic.

I tried concentrating hard. It had been a while since I’d used my powers. I pressed my eyes closed tightly. I thought about yellow canaries and winged mice. The wind that had been whipping around pretty steadily suddenly whirled into a cone of tornadolike winds directly over my head.

I closed my eyes even tighter, willing the wind to take me up and over the course, to the other side. I’d
just have to figure out how to fix my hair when I got there.

Suddenly my legs felt light as a feather. My bottom lifted off the ground ever so slightly. I felt that oh-so-familiar feeling of flotation. Levitation. Exaltation!

“Nooooooooooo!”

It was Polly.

Her horrifying scream threw my concentration south and my mini-tornado died, leaving me to hit the hard ground with a painful thump. I toppled over and fell deep into a puddle of sludgy mud.

Polly ran to my side.

I just cried louder.

“Era, no, no powers. C’mon, you can do this. Get up.”

“I can’t. You were right all along, this was a stupid idea.”

“Yes, but the point is, we’re here. And we’ve got to get through it,
without
our powers. If we don’t, we haven’t learned anything, and we have no hope of getting home. You can do this. I know you can. C’mon, let’s just go slow, at our own pace, together. I’ll help you.”

“Really, you’ll help me?”

“Well, I’m not going to carry you if that’s what you’re thinking, but yes, I will help you.”

Rats,
I thought. I continued to pout.

“You really thought I’d carry you?” Polly cried.

“Not carry, exactly. Maybe I could lean on you a little.”

“C’mon. Let’s go.”

Everyone else was farther along than us. But that just meant fewer eyes to stare at us while we stumbled through the course. We trudged up the hill slowly, in unison. Each of Polly’s steps seemed to inspire me to take one of my own.

“Concentrate on the trees, Era, not on your legs….”

“Right, okay. Yes, the trees.”

“Let’s guess how old they are as we go, okay?”

“Okay, yes. One hundred sixteen.”

“Two hundred twelve.”

“Ninety-five.”

It took our minds off the pain a little bit.

“Do you think we will ever get home, Pol?” I asked. The wind had died down. It was so quiet now, we could clearly hear a little tiny finch up in this tall elm nearby.

“Yes, yes, I do. Someday.”

“Yeah, someday.”

I stopped again. I felt like I was going to cry. It was just so much. I tried to think about the trees. I tried not to think about my legs or the pain, but I couldn’t help it. I plopped down again in the dirt. I just didn’t care.

Polly gave me a little pep talk.

“Look at you, my most ‘indoor-minded’ sister is out in the mud—that shows change.”

“Yeah, but is it the right kind of change?” I was pouting, and I knew it.

“I think so. One step at a time, right?”

“Right.”

And only twenty-three steps later (I wasn’t counting or anything) we hit the top of the hill we had been climbing for what seemed like hours (but was probably only thirty minutes, thirty long minutes). We were shocked! And thrilled!

“Look, down there, Era, it’s the finish line.”

“There’s Josh! And the others! Hallelujah, I’m not going to fail! I’m not going to die!”

“Of course not, silly. Hey, if you think you’ve got it in you, we could just barrel down this hill and…”

But before she’d even finished her sentence, she was off and running, propelled by the downhill slope and the rush of adrenaline. I got it, too, and I was off.

We sprinted (or sort of hobbled quickly) directly for that line like our immortality depended on it. I threw my hands out to the sides like I was flying. I actually felt good, I felt free! Polly practically skipped. Or maybe it was stumbling, but it looked vaguely like skipping.

Down and down and around a tree and another.

Quicker and quicker.

Faster and faster.

And through the finish line! We fell into each other’s arms in the longest, squishiest hug we could find within our tired bodies.

Josh came over to congratulate us. He patted us both on the backs. And told us that despite being last in the class, we still deserved a big, fat A because we had accomplished our goals and completed the test.

And we both dropped to the ground in total exhaustion, just like that.

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