Matching Wits with Venus

by Therese Gilardi

  “Don’t worry we’ll get her back,” she whispered as she gently took the remote from Stella’s clammy fingers and clicked off the distressing pictures.

  ****

  “My, how things have changed,” Aphrodite cackled as she stood over Venus.

  The Roman goddess cowered on the ground of the rough cell beneath the Colisseo, where her descendants had donned gladiator suits and wrestled all manner of demon. It had been two hours since Aphrodite’s minions had seized Venus and Mercury from the restaurant in Rome where they had been dining. Venus smirked as she recalled that Aphrodite’s people hadn’t even had the decency to allow them to finish their meal, a courtesy the Roman gods would have extended to the Greeks under similar circumstances.

  “You didn’t, you COULDN’T have possibly expected anything different, could you?” Aphrodite asked, raking her long, red nails along her gold sash.

  Aphrodite dug her high heel into the dusty ground.

  “Not after you deprived me of my rightful place in the world.”

  “I…”

  Venus rubbed her jaw where she’d hit herself on the edge of a stone ledge as she’d tripped when she entered the cell.

  “I did think we were friends,” she replied faintly, a tone of wonder in her voice. “Professional colleagues.”

  Aphrodite snorted.

  “Colleagues? Is that what you’d call it when only one of us claimed the title, the offerings, the right to make the matches that would shape the mortal world while the other one languished, adrift on a flotilla of pricey boats with nothing but a series of cabin boys for companionship?”

  “I thought you liked your life,” Venus said softly. “And it wasn’t my fault! You know these matters were decided thousands of years ago.”

  Aphrodite sniffed.

  “I think,” she said, turning her back on Venus, “We need to resettle that old score.”

  ****

  “It’s time you met my parents. I mean properly, not as seen from the end of an arrowhead,” Amelia said to Cupid as Enrique tipped his hat and helped her and Cupid off of the elevator, into the lobby of Venus’s Hollywood Hills mansion.

  “I’m sure I’m going to love anyone who’s given life to the woman who’s given life to me,” he replied, his eyes twinkling.

  “That is disgraceful!” Amelia said laughing.

  Cupid grinned.

  “You’re right. But now that I know I’m in the company of one of L.A.’s best poets I must make the attempt at poetry, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I think there’s a bit of work still to be done,” Amelia said with a laugh as they made their way to the hospital.

  Amelia was certain that her mother would be at Gerard’s bedside, as she had been since his hospitalization. She sighed. She couldn’t help but wonder what all of their lives would have been like had Stella recognized her feelings for Gerard decades earlier.

  She looked over at Cupid’s strong jaw. Although she’d love to tell him what she was thinking she wondered if he could comprehend the finite notion of their life spans. Then again, he probably knew exactly what she was thinking, since he, too, came from a broken home. She laced her fingers through his. He squeezed her hand and winked.

  “They’ve moved him upstairs,” Stella announced as they approached.

  Stella clutched her stained paper coffee cup, her eyes fixed on Cupid. Amelia sucked in her breath, then shivered. Surely this was the first time her mother had failed to turn on the charming Southern accent in the presence of what she referred to as a “gentleman caller”.

  However, despite the difficulties of the past few days, Stella was still Stella. Amelia felt her shoulders relax as she watcher her mother assess Cupid’s golden hair and his pouty lips. She sighed with relief as Stella straightened her spine, threw back her shoulders and ran her chipped fingernails though her slightly greasy fading blonde hair. Amelia was practically giddy with relief when she saw her mother run her tongue across her teeth, pucker her lips and lean toward Cupid.

  “So you’re the one who’s put my daughter in this state? I have to say, I’m sure you have made one beautiful baby.”

  “Mother!”

  Stella rolled her eyes and extended her hand.

  “I’m Stella.”

  “I know,” Cupid replied as he took her hand. “I expected Amelia’s mother to be the picture of beauty, and I can see I was right.”

  Stella stepped forward as she rubbed her fingers against his warm flesh.

  “Since you’re a god,” she said, reluctantly dropping his hand, “I suppose you know everything.”

  “I’m not sure I know everything,” Cupid responded with a laugh.

  “I guess not, or you could tell us how we could get Gerard released.”

  Stella looked at Cupid hopefully.

  “I don’t suppose?”

  Cupid shook his head and spread his hands.

  “On mortal matters like this I’m afraid I am no help.”

  “Mom! Where is Dad? You just said that they moved him?”

  Stella pursed her lips.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this Amelia but they’ve sent him to the psych ward.”

  She looked at Cupid.

  “That means psychiatric unit. He kept going on and on about all of those earthquakes they’ve been having in Italy have something to do with Amelia. Naturally they assumed that meant he was crazy.”

  Stella shrugged her shoulders.

  “I mean, what could I say or do to stop them? This hospital is full of intolerant bigots,” she said, raising her voice.

  A few nurses looked in their direction. Amelia put her arm on Stella’s elbow. She looked over at Cupid, who had grown quite pale.

  “Are you all right?” Stella asked. “I’ll bet you’ve never been in a hospital before. The smells can really get to you. And that fluorescent overhead lighting.”

  Cupid nodded stiffly.

  “What else did Dad say?” Amelia asked Stella.

  “That was pretty much it, except for some ranting about how Venus should take a lesson or two from Amelia. I think, actually, that that comment is what really did him in.”

  Amelia exhaled loudly.

  “Now we’ll never get him out of here. They’ll drug him to death, or else they’ll send him to one of those secure units they have in jails for the prisoners with mental issues,” Stella said.

  “Jail?” Cupid asked. “Just for making a few unusual remarks?”

  “Well, his comments and the fact that he’s been accused of trying to tamper with the natural order of the world. Some of the news stations say he fancies himself to be a modern day Noah since he had two of several species on his property.”

  “Is that true?”

  “Well, he did keep his animals in pairs. And the worst of it is that there’s talk of charging him with being an eco-terrorist, which would bring with it a whole additional set of penalties. The sheriff said if he’s convicted, he’ll be put away forever and all of the rights to his work sold to pay his legal fines.”

  Cupid sank into one of the blue plastic chairs against the wall and dropped his head into his hands. Amelia looked at her mother, then sat next to him. Gently, she put her hand on his arm.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “Why? You didn’t do anything.”

  “It’s all my fault,” Cupid replied hoarsely. “I didn’t shoot the arrows that would have led to a normal spring mating season. When that didn’t happen, your father obviously decided to try to preserve some species.”

  “You didn’t shoot the arrows?” Amelia’s mouth dropped open as she spoke. “Do you mean to tell me that, all this time I’ve been talking about these problems in the natural world and how my father was in the hospital after they tried to arrest him you’ve known you were the source of his troubles?”

  “No!”

  Cupid’s blue eyes were shiny.

  “I didn’t make the connection. I knew my mother thought your father was tryi
ng to take over her territory and of course I knew I hadn’t shot the arrows, but come on! It never occurred to me that a mortal could actually be held accountable for a god’s mistake. Honest. It doesn’t make any sense; I was sure everything I’d heard was really just some sort of gross misunderstanding that would be fixed once the arrows had been shot. Which I was told did happen. And think about what you told me. That your father had a heart attack when sheriffs came to his home to arrest him, and that he was being wrongfully accused of some sort of crime related to his work. I was just concentrating on your legal system. I assumed it was a separate issue, some kind of other problem. I didn’t think about how it related to the arrows…”

  Amelia felt like she couldn’t get enough oxygen.

  “Amelia! You’ve got to believe me. I never realized the connection. Honest.”

  Amelia studied Cupid’s face for a moment. She leaned forward and opened her mouth.

  “Believe you? You must be joking! You really played me for a fool,” Amelia wailed. “All the while you pretended to be interested in my father’s problems, knowing you’d caused them! You’re in the right town – you deserve an Academy Award for your brilliant acting.”

  Amelia began to shake.

  “How could I have been so blind? I should have known,” She said, almost to herself.

  Amelia looked at Cupid, then pointed in the direction of the exit.

  “Get out. Get out! I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  “Amelia! That’s the father of your child you’re speaking to,” Stella said sharply.

  Amelia turned to her mother.

  “I’m sure you of all people understand how relevant that is to the situation at hand,” Amelia replied, her voice trembling. “After all, ‘Happy Families’ has never been your game, has it?”

  Stella opened her mouth as if to speak, then pulled her lips together and backed away as a nurse carrying a pager hurried toward them, her brow furrowed.

  “Is there a problem here?” The nurse asked.

  “Not at all,” Amelia replied coldly. “My friend here was just about to leave.”

  “Come on sir, you don’t want me to have to call security.” Cupid looked at her. “Amelia, please!”

  “I said good-bye,” she replied, standing up and spinning on her heel so Cupid could not see the tears splashing her eyelashes.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  After she’d sent Cupid off, Amelia cried so hard that Stella was afraid she would miscarry. Fortunately, Dr. Franklin had been passing by, at the end of her shift, and agreed to accompany them home. Stella chewed on what was left of her nail extensions, as Dr. Franklin administered the tranquilizer that would help Amelia sleep.

  “I’m not going to tell you that stress is good for mother or baby, but Amelia and her child are resilient. They’ll be fine.”

  Dr. Franklin watched as Stella rubbed at the paunches of skin beneath her eyes.

  “You know you look like you could use a little help sleeping.”

  Stella smiled wanly. “You have no idea how quickly I would’ve taken you up on an offer like that in the past. But now…Amelia needs me.”

  Dr. Franklin patted Stella’s arm. While the doctor packed her bag Stella caught a glimpse of herself in the large sparkly mirror she kept in her hallway. Stella felt like she was staring at a stranger: gone were the frivolous hair ornaments, the unsuitable belly shirts. Stella sighed. She was beginning to resemble her own mother.

  She reached for the remote and turned on the television.

  Samantha Yolandez, who seemed to work twenty-four hour shifts, was reporting from the field again, once more wrapped in her safari jacket. She was standing in the middle of a Greek restaurant, some cheesy taverna that advertised on late night cable, surrounded by the sound of plates breaking amid cries of “Oompah!”

  “What do you think of the recent troubles in Greece?” She asked a dark-shirted man who was brushing his moustache.

  The man shrugged.

  “The Romans destroy the monuments as a practice for the day they come to upend the ruins of western civilization. It’s a plot to discredit our heritage, our contribution to the history books.”

  Samantha took a step to her left and leaned into the camera.

  “Well there you have it, straight from the source. The somewhat,” she cleared her throat, “unconventional belief that all of the destruction in the old world is the result of some sort of score settling. Let’s hope they’re wrong.”

  “They’re not,” Stella muttered.

  Stella was pretty certain Dr. Franklin had chosen to pretend not to hear her remark. But Stella knew she was right, that it was only a matter of time before all the world knew the horrifying truth, even people like Dr. Franklin. To her surprise, Stella noticed that the doctor’s hands shook as she packed her bag.

  ****

  “She’ll come around. They always do for you.”

  Cupid turned with a start. Inuus was behind him, at the edge of Amelia’s courtyard, against her stone wall. Cupid was next to the window where he’d watched Amelia that first night, leaning forward. He was awaiting the moment she’d awaken from the drug induced sleep he’d watched her slip into an hour ago, shortly before the doctor with the shaky hands hurried from her bungalow. He’d been tempted to make himself visible and object when he’d seen the woman readying the needle that held the tranquilizer she would shoot into Amelia’s arm. But then he realized that sleep would no doubt be the best solution for Amelia’s high anxiety.

  “I don’t know,” Cupid frowned, as he leaned forward. “This time it’s different.”

  Inuus shook his head.

  “There’s no such thing as different where your women are concerned. They’re all as loyal as….”

  Cupid scowled and Inuus bit his lip.

  “Okay, okay,” he said, raising his hands. “This time it’s different.”

  Cupid nodded absentmindedly.

  “I hate to have to tell you this, especially now,” Inuus said, pointing toward the window with his shoulder, “but you’ve got even bigger problems. Aphrodite’s taken Venus and Mercury prisoner.”

  Cupid remained motionless.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Sorry, yeah. But I must’ve misunderstood; it sounded like you said my mother’s friend had taken her and her estranged husband prisoner.”

  “That’s right.”

  “What?” Cupid said, shaking his head. “That’s absurd. And it’s impossible. You know my parents haven’t been in the same room in over a millennia.”

  “Well it happened. Mercury was able to get word out via some sort of messengers’ network.”

  Inuus pulled a cigarette from his pocket and slipped it between his lips.

  Cupid scowled.

  “Come on,” he said, as he snatched the cigarette from Inuus’s mouth. “Don’t you know smoking will kill you?”

  ****

  The next morning Esmeralda adjusted the quartz stone in her front window so it could better catch the light. She’d noticed a few years ago that potential patrons were attracted to a sparkling storefront. They seemed to believe it was some sort of portal to another world, which was fine with her.

  She sniffed the stale air. If she was to lure in a decent clientele she’d better light some incense. She headed for the small stockroom in the back. As she was reaching for a box of jasmine scented sticks, she heard the front door open.

  “Welcome to Esmeralda’s enchanted…”

  She stopped speaking when she saw that it was only Amelia and Jennie who’d entered the shop. She frowned. Although Amelia was now rounder in the middle her face was gaunt.

  “Are you looking after yourself properly? You’re awfully scrawny for a pregnant woman.”

  “Probably not,” Amelia replied. “But I’m trying.”

  She smiled faintly at Esmeralda and for a moment her old vivacity returned. Esmeralda stepped forward and gave her an awkward little hug.

  “So what
can I do for you? Care to have the cards read, see how long your labor will be, perhaps get a jump on knowing if you should be buying pink or blue bedding?”

  “No, but thank you. What I really need is some space. I can’t work out of the house right now; my neighbors are remodeling and it’s non-stop hammering. I was wondering….”