Helping Hercules

by Francesca Simon

  CHOP! CLUNK!

  Medusa’s head thudded to the ground.

  Then something amazing happened.

  Out of the bloody neck sprang a glowing white winged horse, which flew straight into the sky.

  ‘Pegasus!’ breathed Susan.

  Beside the dead Gorgon her two immortal sisters stirred, their brass claws clenching and unclenching.

  Quickly Susan held open the wallet. No way am I touching that head, she thought. I did the eye, he can do the snakes.

  ‘Hurry!’ she whispered.

  Carefully, Perseus picked up the horrible head and dumped it in the pouch. The snakes, still alive, hissed and twisted. Drops of blood dripped from the bottom of the bag. As they hit the sand, each turned into a snake.

  ‘Let’s get out of here!’ said Perseus. Susan jumped on his back and off they flew.

  ‘After the murderer! Tear his flesh!’ screamed enraged voices.

  Susan saw the reflected, ferocious shapes of Medusa’s sisters, their golden wings flapping, flying this way and that, clawing and swiping the empty air as they chased their invisible prey. Susan felt hot Gorgon breath on her neck.

  Frantic to escape, Perseus suddenly lurched. Susan tumbled off and fell to the ground, knocking the breath out of her body.

  ‘Susan!’ shouted Perseus from above.

  ‘There she is!’ screeched a Gorgon.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Susan caught a fleeting glimpse of a snaky face and outstretched claws as the Gorgon swooped out of the sky. Instantly, her prone body froze and a clammy coldness came over her limbs. With her last conscious breath, Susan wished.

  Susan felt stiff as stone. She stared up at a ring of faces pressing in upon her. Gingerly, she tried bending a toe.

  It moved.

  Phew, thought Susan. That was close.

  She sat up and rubbed her head. The crowd gasped and backed away, as if she were a demon.

  ‘Zeus save us!’ screamed a woman, pulling her children close to her side.

  Why has the magic brought me here, she wondered, looking over a barren cliff-top into the churning dark blue sea below. She breathed in the salty smell. What was going on? Susan racked her brains to remember what happened to Perseus, but her mind was blank.

  Then Susan heard the sound of tambourines.

  ‘Make way for King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia!’ shouted a voice.

  So my adventure hasn’t finished, thought Susan, gazing at the silent crowd gathered on the sea-cliff. The people parted, and amongst them walked a king and queen, clutching a young girl who stood beside them in chains, surrounded by armed spear-carriers. Susan pushed her way forward to get a better view.

  ‘Oh! Woe is me!’ howled the queen.

  ‘Woe is me!’ shrieked the king.

  ‘Woe is me!’ howled the queen even louder.

  ‘Woe is me!’ squealed their daughter. ‘I’m the one who’s to be sacrificed to a sea monster! And it’s all your fault, Mum!’

  ‘All right, I might be a bit to blame,’ snivelled the queen. ‘I did say I was more beautiful than the sea nymphs, which is the truth, but I’ve been punished for my plain-speaking, haven’t I?’

  ‘Ha!’ shrieked the girl. ‘You’ve been punished!’

  ‘You know perfectly well Poseidon, blue-haired Sea Lord, sent a sea serpent against us, and the prophets said we had to sacrifice you, Andromeda,’ said the queen, weeping. ‘If the prophets had said me I would gladly take your place.’

  ‘The gods have sent a stranger among us!’ shouted a woman’s voice in the crowd. ‘A stranger who appeared from nowhere!’

  Rough hands pushed Susan forward.

  Queen Cassiopeia whispered to her husband. A smile spread across his lined face and he nodded.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said Susan, as soldiers seized her.

  ‘Surely, husband, this girl is a gift from the gods,’ exulted the Queen. ‘Why should we sacrifice our lovely Andromeda when this stranger will do just as well?’

  ‘Good thinking, wife!’ said the king.

  ‘Now wait a minute!’ shouted Susan. ‘I am the nymph Susan! You can’t do this! The gods will punish you!’

  No one paid the slightest attention. Susan was hustled along a steep cliff-track almost down to the narrow stony beach. Someone tore off her jeans and shirt and a long white tunic was placed over her head. Then a soldier gathered up her clothes and pitched them into the sea.

  ‘NO!’ screamed Susan. ‘My coin!’

  On the furthest rock jutting out above the frothing water was a small ledge. Susan fought and struggled, but there were too many soldiers. They left her chained to the rocky cliff, the waves lapping at her feet.

  Susan tugged frantically at her chains. It was no use. She was fastened tight against the cliff, her feet barely supported by the narrow ledge. Below her, well out of reach, her jeans and shirt bobbed in the shining water, gradually drifting further and further out to sea. Looking up she saw King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia shielding their eyes against the sun as they peered anxiously towards the horizon. Andromeda had her hands covering her ears. The only sound was the harsh cries of the sea birds.

  Stay calm, thought Susan. Stay calm. This is bad, in fact it’s very bad, in fact it’s terrible, but I’m going to keep my head. She breathed deeply, and tried to think.

  Then Susan saw a far-off shape rising up from the wine-dark sea. She strained against her irons. It wasn’t a ship. It wasn’t a whale. And whatever it was, it was speeding straight at her.

  ‘HELP!’ screamed Susan.

  A giant set of fins sliced through the water. A pronged tail lashed the foam, sending waves crashing against the rock and splattering Susan with spray. A giant serpent’s head, dripping with slime, leered at her out of the foam, its hideous green body coiling and uncoiling.

  ‘HELP!’ screamed Susan. ‘HELP!’

  The sea monster was so close she could see its blood red spiked tongue, and rows and rows of sharp teeth.

  The monster came closer, its slavering jaws wide open . . . Susan shut her eyes.

  ‘Hey, what is this?’ hissed a hoarse, gutteral voice. ‘This isn’t Andromeda. I was promised Andromeda. No way am I eating this.’

  Susan opened her eyes.

  The monstrous snake was so close she could have reached out and touched it.

  ‘And what’s wrong with me?’ she demanded hotly, without thinking.

  The serpent belched. Bones spewed from its mouth and plopped into the sea.

  ‘I only eat the best,’ it hissed. ‘You’re too small and freckly and sunburnt – uggh. I like princess, not pipsqueak. Give me Andromeda – OR I’LL CRUSH YOU ALL!’ it bellowed, suddenly rearing up to its full monstrous height.

  The people cowering on the clifftop fled, screaming. ‘Sacrifice Andromeda!’ they shouted. ‘Give Andromeda to the monster!’

  ‘FOOD!’ boomed the serpent. ‘I want food!’

  It shook its fearsome head.

  ‘Maybe a little snack first,’ it hissed. ‘Just to whet my appetite.’

  Uh oh, thought Susan, shrinking against the cliff.

  But the sea snake turned and plunged into the water, chasing after a dark bobbing shape.

  Susan willed the bobbing thing, whatever it was, to escape. But the monster was too fast. Swiftly overtaking, it gulped and swallowed. Then the sea snake wheeled round and zoomed back for shore. Suddenly it stopped. A strange expression came over its cruel face.

  ‘Bleeeech!’ it choked, spewing something from its mouth.

  SPLAT!

  Susan’s sodden, smelly clothes smacked against her face as the heaving monster plunged underwater.

  Soldiers unbound her, chaining the screaming, struggling, weeping Andromeda in her place on the rocky cliff. Then everyone scuttled away to safety as fast as they could.

  ‘Get out of here while you can!’ one soldier shouted to Susan as he ran off.

  Susan snatched up her slime-covered clothes and turned to follow. He
r hand fumbled in her pocket. The coin was safe. Susan felt so happy she could have danced.

  ‘Help me!’ screamed Andromeda as the sea snake’s fins sliced through the foam.

  ‘HELP!’

  Susan hesitated. How could she leave Andromeda chained? Yet what could she do? If only she had Medusa’s head, she could turn the monster to stone!

  ‘Oh, I wish Perseus were here!’ she cried.

  There was a whirr of wings and Perseus swooped out of the sky, hovering above the waves with the heavy wallet slung over his shoulder. He looked a little bewildered.

  ‘Ah Susan,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Thank the gods you escaped from the Gorgons! What’s going on? Why is this girl chained here? What are you –’

  Suddenly the monster reared up behind him, its mouth open.

  There was no time to lose.

  ‘Watch your back!’ shouted Susan. ‘Turn the monster to stone!’

  Perseus, bless him, did not hesitate or ask stupid questions, thought Susan approvingly, as the youth leaped into the air, yanked Medusa’s head from out of the bag and held it before the sea monster.

  The snake froze into stone, its ridged back curving down to the water.

  ‘Hurray!’ shouted Susan.

  Then Perseus drew his sickle sword of adamant and sliced through Andromeda’s chains. The girl fell weeping upon him.

  ‘Good work, Perseus,’ said Susan, jumping up and down with excitement. ‘Let’s go and climb on that serpent!’

  But Perseus ignored her. He was whispering to Andromeda, and she only had eyes for him.

  Susan snorted.

  Oh no, love stuff, she thought, sighing.

  She certainly did not want to hang about for that.

  Susan closed her eyes and wished to be home.

  ‘Susan! Have you done your homework?’

  ‘NO!’ she howled back.

  Some things never changed.

  6

  MIMICKING MIDAS

  ‘If you could have any wish, what would you wish?’ asked Susan, lounging outside one sunny summer afternoon in the hammock.

  ‘I’d wish for all the chocolates in the sweet jar,’ said Freddie promptly, squashing his sandcastle. ‘And a hamster.’

  ‘That’s two wishes,’ said Susan.

  Eileen looked up from her book.

  ‘Naturally I’d wish for all the wishes in the world,’ said Eileen.

  ‘That’s generally considered a greedy wish,’ said Susan. ‘Bad things always happen to people who wish that. Just like people who wish to live for ever and forget to say they’d like to be young for ever and end up grizzled old grasshoppers.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ snapped Eileen, without lifting her eyes off the page, ‘and what would you wish then, if you’re so smart?’

  Susan swung back and forth in the hammock.

  ‘I’d wish,’ she said, ‘that everything I touched would become better than it was. So this hammock would have beautiful embroidery, my clothes would turn to silk and my school dinners would taste delicious.’

  Eileen didn’t look at her.

  ‘That’s not completely stupid,’ she said, grudgingly. ‘Too bad you’ll never got the chance to wish it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that!’ Susan replied.

  Eileen stopped pretending to read.

  ‘And what exactly do you mean by that?’

  ‘I’ve got a magic coin,’ said Susan recklessly. ‘I can travel back to Ancient Greece.’

  ‘Liar!’

  ‘Am not!’

  ‘Are too!’

  ‘I am not lying!’ shouted Susan. ‘I have got a magic coin. And I’ve helped loads of heroes like Hercules, and Perseus, and that nincompoop, Paris.’

  Eileen turned up her lip.

  ‘You are the biggest liar I ever met.’

  ‘I can prove it,’ said Susan.

  ‘Go on then,’ said Eileen.

  Susan reached into her pocket. Now where was that eye? Her fingers fumbled into every corner. There was a jelly-like smear but no eye.

  ‘I had the eye of the Grey Women but it must have dissolved,’ said Susan regretfully. She would have liked to have seen Eileen’s horrified face.

  ‘Oh yeah, right,’ sniggered Eileen.

  ‘Okay then,’ said Susan. She took the coin from her pocket. It sparkled and glittered as if it had turned to gold. ‘Come with me and I’ll prove it.’

  Eileen rolled her eyes.

  ‘Come on.’

  Freddie stepped out of the sandpit and obediently grasped her hand.

  Eileen stood irresolute.

  ‘What have you got to lose?’ said Susan.

  Eileen lightly touched one of Susan’s fingers.

  ‘Oh this is stupid,’ she exclaimed, dropping Susan’s hand, as Susan wished.

  ‘OUCH!’

  ‘OUCH!’ shouted Freddie, even louder. ‘I’m being prickled!’

  Gingerly, Susan disentangled the thorny rose bush from Freddie’s sandy leg.

  ‘Smell those roses, Freddie,’ said Susan, to distract him from his scratches. The scent of roses was overpowering: the warm air was heavy with their sweet fragrance, and the hum of bees and wasps.

  She looked around at the magnificent walled garden. There were roses stretching in every direction, great lush bushes heavy with flowers, a maze of pinks and reds and whites.

  So many roses, thought Susan. Have we landed in some garden show by mistake?

  ‘Is this magic?’ said Freddie.

  ‘Just stick with me and be quiet,’ said Susan, sweating in the heat and already regretting that she’d brought along a five-year-old on a magic adventure. He was sure to be a nuisance and start whining just when things were getting exciting.

  A man ran towards them, his long violet cloak flapping about his knees, wearing a flat, wide-brimmed wool hat. Three slaves, wearing short tunics, ran behind.

  ‘Daughter! Son! The most miraculous news!’ he shouted.

  ‘That’s not daddy!’ said Freddie.

  ‘Just pretend it is!’ whispered Susan back. ‘We’re playing pretend.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Freddie, nodding vigorously.

  The man came closer, gasping for breath. ‘I found this old satyr drunk in the garden,’ he panted, ‘and I looked after him. Turns out he was the teacher of the god Dionysus! To reward me, Dionysus has granted me one wish! Hurray for me! Three cheers for King Midas!’

  ‘Wish for lots of chocolate,’ said Freddie.

  King Midas paused. His eyes gleamed.

  ‘What’s chocolate?’ said Midas. ‘Some rare jewel?’

  ‘No,’ said Freddie, ‘you eat it. He’s not very clever, is he Susan?’ he added in a loud whisper.

  ‘Shh!’ hissed Susan. ‘I know a great wish,’ she said eagerly. ‘Wish that-’

  ‘Quiet, you stupid children!’ interrupted Midas. ‘I was born to be rich! When I was a baby a procession of ants carried grains of wheat up the sides of my cradle and placed them between my lips – the prophets said this was a sure sign I would be wealthy beyond all dreams! And now I have the perfect wish! I want everything I touch to turn to gold!’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not wise,’ said Susan quickly.

  ‘And why not?’ demanded Midas.

  ‘Because-’ Susan hesitated. What was wrong with that wish?

  ‘Well, who cares what you think?’ said Midas rudely. He shouted:

  ‘I want to be rich! I want to be filthy rich! I wish everything I touch to turn to gold!’

  ‘Are you sure?’ boomed a voice from the sky.

  ‘Sure I’m sure!’ shouted Midas. Then he looked down at his clothes. Everything he wore glittered gold.

  He stooped and picked up a pebble.

  Gold.

  He touched a rose.

  Gold.

  He touched a tree.

  Gold. Even the dun-coloured earth beneath his feet turned yellow as he capered.

  ‘Yippee!’ shouted Midas. ‘I’m rich.’ He fl
ung his arms around a vine. Gold grapes hung from the trailing gold branches.

  Freddie ambled over to a heavy golden rose. It broke off in his hand.

  ‘Have it, boy!’ shouted Midas. ‘There’s lots more where that came from!’

  ‘What do you say, Freddie?’ prompted Susan.

  ‘Please/thank you,’ said Freddie, tucking the gilded rose safely into the pocket of his shorts.

  Why shouldn’t I have some gold, too? thought Susan, stooping and filling her pockets with golden pebbles. They felt very heavy.

  Midas clapped his hands.

  ‘Slaves! Bring me food! All this gold is making me hungry!’

  At once servants appeared carrying a table. Others followed, holding ivy-wood bowls of sloshing wine, roast meat, and round loaves of bread. One of the slaves carefully diluted the wine with water, then poured the drink into rich goblets.

  Midas pulled up a chair – which turned to gold – tore off a hunk of bread, and put it in his mouth.

  CLANG!

  ‘Ouch!’ shrieked Midas, clutching his cheek. ‘Bleeeeech!’ He spat out the gold morsel and grabbed a hunk of meat.

  CLANG!

  ‘Son, pass me some wine!’ he commanded.

  Freddie inched forward and carefully picked up a brimming vessel. Midas snatched it from him and poured the liquid down his throat.

  CHOKE!

  ‘AAAAARGGH!’ shrieked Midas, leaping up and pushing Freddie aside. ‘I’m HUNGRY!’

  ‘NO!’ shouted Susan, as a golden Freddie toppled over and lay still, a fallen gold statue.

  ‘Don’t touch me!’ shrieked Susan, putting out her hands.

  But she was too late.

  Before she could pull away, Midas’ fingers brushed her shoulder. At once Susan’s body stiffened. She stood, frozen to the spot, gleaming gold from head to toe.

  Susan was so angry she would have stamped her foot, but she could not move so much as a golden eyelash. All she could do was stand there. She could hear Midas cursing and yelping and begging the gods to take away his dreadful wish. Then he ran inside his palace, slamming the golden door.

  This is boring, thought Susan.