by Sophie Davis
“Can we just move on?” I asked. The way Devon was looking at me, with so much empathy, broke my heart. Her eyes watered, and I thought she might burst into tears at any second. My own eyes burned with unshed tears, but I wouldn’t allow myself to cry over something that couldn’t be changed, at least not until I was alone in my bedroom.
“Of course.” Devon smiled. “We have tons of other stuff to dredge through.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon pouring over my father’s books and notes. The books proved unhelpful, but some of Dad’s notes were interesting.
Apparently, Dad shared Kannon’s confusion about how I’d been chosen to become an Egrgoroi. From what I could piece together, Dad had made an internet posting soliciting information from people who had the same electrical quirks that I did. Of course, when we tried to access the website, we were told that the site no longer existed.
There were legal pads filled with Dad’s interview notes. Again, Mr. Haverty’s information proved correct. My father had traveled to four continents to meet with other Egrgoroi. In his notes from an interview with a Mr. G. Rochester, Dad had circled Minos’s name and underlined it three times. I took that to mean he was somehow more important than the other two judges.
“What do you know about Minos?” I asked Devon.
She consulted her own notes before replying. “He is one of the judges. Son of Zeus and Europa. King of Crete at some point. Some say he is half-man, half-serpent.”
Half-man, half-serpent? Like the man carved on the box my newest necklace had come in. That probably meant the other two men on the lid were Rhadamanthus and Aeacus.
“Anything that makes him stand out from the other two judges?”
Devon scrolled through her notes again, her blue eyes lighting up when they landed on a pertinent piece of information.
“Some believe he is the appeals judge, like if you don’t agree with your sentence. You can appeal to him and he will let you argue your case for a better afterlife.”
“Huh,” I said.
Appeals judge. That would make him more important than the other two. Did Dad want to appeal my sentence? But wouldn’t that mean I would have to give back my second life? Sure, I wouldn’t be forced to carry out the work of the gods for the rest of my days, but I would also be dead. Living in Elysian Fields sounded nice and all, but I wouldn’t have my friends, finish high school, go to college, get married, or experience anything more at all. And there was always the chance that wasn’t where I’d go. What if I’d been judged evil? After all, Samantha had died giving birth to me. That probably hadn’t gone over well with the Panel.
I didn’t share my concerns with Devon. She was under the impression that I was destined for a wonderful afterlife among other angelic souls, and I wanted nothing to change that impression.
I continued reading Dad’s notes on G. Rochester. Just like Kannon’s story, G. Rochester told Dad that Rhadamanthus said he was lucky to be over the age of consent. At sixteen, G. Rochester was old enough to enter into the Egrgoroi contract. His service to the chosen god would begin on his eighteenth birthday. Messages would be communicated to him whenever he was sleeping, unconscious, or in a meditative state.
It suddenly occurred to me that those situations other than sleeping must be why Kannon wanted me to always wear my necklace. If I somehow lost consciousness or accidentally meditated, then I would be susceptible to the messages. What I didn’t understand was why both Kannon and my father wanted to block the communications. I’d obviously made a deal to receive them and carry out the god’s wishes in exchange for returning to earth. Shouldn’t I be holding up my end of the bargain?
Devon tapped her pen against the coffee table, drawing my focus from the notes I was reading. Her brows were drawn together and she chewed her lower lip.
“You got something?” I asked.
“Not sure.” Devon began starring words on the page she was examining. She looked up. “Have you ever heard of the Daughters of Cassandra or the Apollo Society?”
I shook my head. “What are they?”
“Don’t know,” Devon admitted. “But your father has made several references to both in this notebook. And,” she turned the notebook towards me, “isn’t this the symbol that was on Mr. Haverty’s ring?”
Next to Dad’s mention of the Apollo Society was a crude drawing of a goblet with an eye in the center. The eye did look a lot like the one carved into the diner owner’s ring.
“Maybe they are other types of Egrgoroi?” I suggested, recalling what Kannon had told me the night before. But that didn’t really fit in with what I knew about Egrgoroi. I’d never felt any unease in his presence, and when he placed his hand on mine, no shock passed between us.
Devon stared at me like I had three heads. So, I launched into an explanation similar to the one Kannon had given me to describe the lake creature.
“Fascinating,” Devon mused, blue eyes alight with interest. “So there really was a mermaid in the water?”
“I guess so.” Truthfully, all of this was incredibly intriguing, and if I’d been researching the topic purely for academic purposes, I might have shared her enthusiasm. Right now, though, all of this new information just made my head hurt.
“Dev?”
“Hmmm?” She had once again buried her head in a book.
“Do you think he found a way into the underworld?”
When we started on this fact-finding mission, I’d been certain that my father’s research would provide us with the clues we needed to find him. The deeper we delved, the more I hoped that wouldn’t be the case. All signs were starting to point south, to the underworld. And that scared me. Appealing my sentence, if that was what he was doing, was not worth risking his life in the process.
“Truth?” Devon asked after a long pause.
“Truth,” I answered.
Devon sighed heavily. “I do.”
That was what I’d been afraid of.
“I’m not sure how he figured out the locations of the gates, but the maps prove he did. Not to mention what he told Mr. Haverty.”
“Do you think that is where he is now? In the underworld?”
“I think there is a strong possibility.”
“Do you think he’s dead?”
My best friend hesitated. Her eyes were sad when she met my imploring gaze. “I don’t know, Eel. I hope not.”
Me, too, I thought. Me, too.
****
“How did Aunt Sam really die?” I asked Mom.
We were seated at the kitchen table, both of us with untouched plates of chicken and broccoli in Alfredo sauce on our placemats. I already knew the answer to my question, of course, but I wanted to see if Mom was ready for full disclosure or if she would continue to lie to me.
Mom stared past me, absently twirling a long strand of pasta with her fork. Her short black hair was pulled back with a clip, a look that usually made her appear younger than she actually was. But today she looked old, tired and old.
“There were complications with your birth,” she finally said. “Sam, well, she lost too much blood.”
Hearing my mother say it was a lot worse than reading it on Dad’s laptop. I’d steeled myself for the answer before asking the question, but was still unprepared. Tears made my mother’s face swim before my eyes, and I blinked rapidly to keep them from falling. I picked up a piece of broccoli with my fingers and popped it in my mouth as a distraction.
“But you’d already made the decision to adopt me by that point? I mean, even if Sam had lived, you still would have raised me?” I was surprised by how even my tone was, how calm I sounded discussing this.
“Yes. That was the plan from the moment Sam decided to see the pregnancy through.”
“So she never wanted me?” Now my voice broke. Everything I’d been holding inside had finally become too much. No amount of blinking, or tearing my napkin, or promising myself I could cry once I was alone, could stop the sobs and waterworks.
I w
rapped my arms across my stomach, rocking back and forth in my chair. Mom was beside me in a flash, gathering me in her arms and stroking my hair, something she hadn’t done in over a decade.
“No, baby,” she mumbled against my hair. “She did. She just knew she would never be able to take care of you. She could barely take care of herself. But she did want you. And your father and I wanted you. We love you. She loved you.”
The fact she called me baby – Mom only ever called me Endora or Endora Lee – made me cry harder. She continued to stroke my hair and rub my back as she made what passed for soothing noises. We stayed like that for a long time; it felt good to let it all out. I hadn’t cried so hard since the day the judge terminated my father’s parental rights.
Once I was no longer a blubbering mess, Mom put water in the kettle and made two cups of green tea. She disappeared into her home office while the water heated, returning with a well-worn photo album. We sat together on the living room sofa. Mom held my hand and told me stories about her younger sister - my birth mother - and showed me pictures of the two of them from childhood. They weren’t the stories I’d already heard, like about how Sam was irresponsible and selfish. These stories were funny and sweet and made me miss a woman that I never knew.
Mom apologized for keeping the truth a secret for so long. Holding a grudge was too taxing, so I promised to try and move past the lie.
“You should probably go to bed, Endora; it’s late,” Mom said after our third cup of tea.
I rose to my feet, but Mom stayed seated. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it without speaking. I waited, dreading whatever she might disclose next.
“I spoke with James today,” she finally said. “Regardless of what happened between us, I do want to find your father. I told James that I will help in any way I can.” She paused. “He has also offered to help find your biological father if you want that. Samantha never told anyone who he was, but we can try to find out. Take some time to think about it, though. It is not a decision you need to make tonight.”
Did I want to meet my biological father? I wasn’t really sure. There was so much going on in my life that meeting a man who may not even know I existed, let alone that I was his offspring, was daunting.
“I’ll think about it,” I promised my mother. “And thank you for helping to find Dad.”
Mom squeezed my hand, then released me to go to my bedroom. She stayed where she was, though. When I looked back, she had picked up the photo album again and was flipping through the pages.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The following week was chaotic. Prom fever had infected the entire senior class, or at least the entire female half. All anyone talked about during lunch was where they’d made dinner reservations and what type of boutonniere they’d ordered for their date. The girls on the lacrosse team were so preoccupied with describing their dresses to one another that Coach Peters made us run sprints until we were wheezing too hard to talk.
I bought two tickets from Megan Malone, our class treasurer, before school on Tuesday morning. That same day, Elizabeth informed us at lunch that her father had offered to pay for the limo rental. Devon’s resolve to go stag held strong even when Rick sent her a dozen roses and an “I’m sorry” teddy bear. I’d never been more proud of my best friend.
I still didn’t have a dress, but Mom promised that she would “take care of it.” I appreciated her newfound interest in my life, though I was a little nervous about what she would pick out. I had no idea what I’d do if it was hideous – hopefully the gods would look out for me on this one. Mom and I continued our truce, and she made every effort to be home from work in time for late-night dinner.
Devon finished going through the password-protected file on Dad’s laptop, finding a whole bunch of random clues that led absolutely nowhere. The only ones that held any interest for me were the six scanned receipts from a jewelry shop in Hilo, Hawaii, all for dream catcher necklaces. This I found odd, considering there had only been one necklace in the ornate box. I tried calling the phone number on the receipt, not sure what I intended to ask, but the phone just rang and rang.
On Wednesday, Kannon came over and we went through more of Dad’s notes. Having Kannon in my bedroom was a little unnerving; he’d never made it past the first floor on his previous visits. But he appeared at ease as he perused the photo collages and band posters that decorated my walls. I sat in my computer chair, embarrassed by the pile of dirty clothes that hadn’t quite made it into the laundry hamper but rather sat next to the laundry hamper.
I showed him the sections that Devon marked, the ones about the Daughters of Cassandra and the Apollo Society, but his blank expression confirmed that he was telling the truth when he said he’d never heard of either.
“Can I take these?” he asked holding up the spreadsheet my father had made with names and contact information for the other Egrgoroi he’d found.
“Sure,” I agreed, somewhat surprised by his request. “Devon emailed them, but she hasn’t heard back.”
Kannon smiled. “I’m willing to bet that my resources are better than hers.”
“The other mysterious Egrgoroi that you’ve met?” I teased.
“You got it.” He pulled out his cell phone and checked the time on the display. “I should probably go before your mom gets home.”
We collected all the books and notepads and returned them to their hiding place underneath my bed. Before we had a chance to say our goodbyes, with no warning, I heard the front door close.
“Endora! I’m home!”
My heart actually stopped beating for a brief moment. I nervously glanced between Kannon and the bedroom door. This looked bad, really bad. Mom was going to kill me. I’d never had a boy in my bedroom before, and while she’d never strictly prohibited me from doing so, she’d never said it was okay either. I considered shoving him in the closet, then realized that would be fruitless since his Jeep was in the driveway. Kannon laughed at my obvious panic.
“We weren’t doing anything wrong.” He glanced at the bed skirt that concealed the evidence we’d been doing something my mother wouldn’t approve of. “Okay, well, we weren’t doing that.”
Honestly, knowing my mother, I wasn’t sure which was worse – her thinking we were researching Egrgoroi or her thinking we were getting busy in my bed.
“Endora?”
Crap, crap, crap. She was on the stairs; I could hear her heels clacking on the wooden steps.
“What should I do?” Kannon whispered.
There was no time for me to answer. Mom was at the bedroom door. It was cracked and she pushed it open without knocking. The smile dropped from her lips when she saw Kannon standing in the middle of the room.
“Hello, Mrs. Andrews,” Kannon said, the only one of us not tongue-tied. He moved forward, and offered his hand to my mother.
Ever the well-mannered politician, Mom recovered quickly. “It’s nice to meet you, Kannon,” she said, giving him a thin smile.
“We were just…” I had no lame excuse for us being in my bedroom, so I just let my voice trail off.
“It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Andrews. I should probably go, but I’ll see you on Saturday.” Kannon stepped closer to me and leaned down, kissing me softly on the cheek. “Dream well,” he murmured.
Mom stepped aside, allowing Kannon to exit without further comment. Neither of us spoke until the sound of the Jeep’s engine broke the silence.
“I’m sorry, but I swear we weren’t doing anything,” I blurted out, at the same time Mom said, “I have something for you.”
Clutched in one hand, my mother held a shopping bag from Bloomingdales, and in the other a dress bag.
“Is that what I think it is?” I asked, jumping to my feet.
“I hope you like it,” Mom told me. “I stopped at the mall on the way home.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she warned. “Wait until you see it first.”
&n
bsp; Mom handed me the dress bag and I carefully removed the plastic wrapping. Inside was a strapless, forest green gown. The bodice was silk, and the sweetheart neckline was rimmed with tiny crystals that twinkled. It had an empire waist with a small green-and-gold bow. The skirt was long enough to skim the tops of my feet in the front, and a foot of train would trail behind me. And the back was better than the front, with a diamond cutout in the middle and two ribbons of green satin that tied into a bow between my shoulder blades.
“It’s gorgeous,” I breathed. It was. The color, perfect. The cut, one I’d never worn but would definitely complement my shape.
“That’s not all,” Mom said, smiling. She produced a shoebox from the Bloomingdales bag. Inside was a pair of shiny gold heels, taller than any she’d ever bought me. “I thought your dream catcher would go nicely with the dress, and you are welcome to wear a pair of my earrings.”
I rushed over and hugged my mother. “Thank you,” I whispered into her hair.
Mom was startled at first, but quickly recovered and hugged me back. “You’re welcome. And I’ll let it slide this time, but please don’t invite him into your bedroom again.”
The blood that rushed to my face was so hot that I broke out in a light sweat. Mom and I had never had the birds and the bees talk, and I really hoped that we weren’t about to now.
“It won’t happen again,” I promised her, turning to hang the dress in my closet before she saw my bright red cheeks.
“Have you eaten? I brought sandwiches from Hal’s.” Hal’s was a sandwich and salad shop next to the courthouse.
“Sounds good. I’ll be down in a minute.”
I waited until I heard Mom’s heels on the stairs again. Then I put on the dress, the silk soft and cool against my skin. The emerald fabric highlighted the green flecks in my eyes and made my auburn hair appear more red than brown. I twirled in front of the full-length mirror behind my door, unable to stop grinning like an idiot.
When I came to a standstill, the image in the mirror made my heart leap to my throat and every inch of my skin prickle. The gorgeous gown that I’d pulled from the dress bag had been replaced by a tattered, soot-streaked green rag. Jagged holes dotted the skirt, each one ringed with black. The bodice was ripped, most of the crystals hanging by threads. My eyes were red-rimmed and a crown of gray ash sat on top of my hair.
