by John Hosh
“I have nothing to give you, Medusa. Go away.”
“Now, Chloë, don’t be a troll. I have information that will change your life. Come on. What will you give me for it?”
“I will have some new cheese in a few days. You may have a chunk of that.”
“No, no, Chloë, the news I have is really important — really, really important. It is about something your father wants. If you will be my slave — only for the rest of the day — and if you have been a good slave, I will tell you what your father said.”
“No.”
“You really want to know what I know; believe me.”
“I don’t believe you. I will never be your slave. Go away!”
“That’s a pity. If you have a change of heart, let me know. Everybody, say goodbye to poor Chloë. Poor Chloë, may the Fates take pity on you.” Medusa’s companions bid farewell to Chloë.
Chapter 8 : Good wishes and bad
It was almost noon. Standing on her patio, Chloë was on the north side of the stone oven. She had smudges of flour on her hair, her face, her arms and her tunic. Watching the smoking oven, she was leaning on a blackened wood spatula that was almost as tall as she was.
From the west entrance, Aspidos tramped onto the patio. On his back, he was carrying a gutted sea bass. The fish was longer than Aspidos was tall and wider than Aspidos was wide. Aspidos moved the fish by pushing on a seaweed rope that ran round the fish’s head and over Aspidos’s shoulders. In front of Chloë, Aspidos let himself fall. The bass was on top of him.
Chloë observed, “You stink!”
Panting, Aspidos squeaked, “Father says cook this for supper. Get it off me.”
Chloë leaned the spatula against the oven. She took the seaweed rope out of Aspidos’s hands. She dragged the bass over Aspidos.
****
In the early afternoon Chloë stepped from the alley onto the patio at Kalla’s house. Chloë called, “Hi, Clarissa.”
Clarissa was using a strip of sheepskin as a potholder. She picked up a water-pot from the stone oven, which was throwing up some small wisps of smoke. Clarissa replied, “Hi, Chloë. Mom is out back. Will you bring that pot of tallow. Light the wick, will you.” Clarissa took the water-pot into the house.
South of Kalla’s oven Chloë set down the empty pot that she had brought with her. She took out of the pot a chunk of cheese. She put the cheese on the side of the oven, near the tallow. She took a straw from a tall stone cup that was on the side of the oven. She stuck the straw into the oven’s fire. When the straw caught fire, Chloë used it to light the wick that was floating in the tiny pot of tallow. Chloë tossed the burning straw into the fire. She picked up the cheese and the tallow. She carried both into the house.
Against the north wall of Kalla’s backyard was a rectangular vegetable garden. A low stone wall fenced in the garden. When Chloë stepped through the back doorway, several geese and two nanny goats were in the garden. The creatures were rooting among shriveled stalks and dry leaves.
The garden-wall’s south side had a gap wider than a person. Outside the garden, a giant turtle’s shell was lying beside the gap.
Beyond the garden — west — was a coop for the ducks and the geese. The small, straw-and-clay-and-stone building had a roof of pot-shards. The shards sloped slightly toward the yard. Stone basins that had very little water in them were next to the coop. Beyond the coop — near the yard’s northwest corner — was a shard-roofed toilet. Beyond the toilet was a pile of manure. South of the pile of manure, along the yard’s back wall, were piles of hay as high as the wall. In the yard’s southwest corner were half a score of pots topped by clay covers. Each pot was half as tall as Kalla and as wide as she was. Along the south wall were goat-pens made of sticks and sea-weed rope.
Between the goat-pens and the house was an expanse of bare rock. On the expanse’s south side was a rock-table. On the rock-table were two stone-knives and two headless partridges.
Kalla was standing near the table. She was facing the back of the house. When Chloë entered the yard, Kalla called, “Hi, Chloë. Put the tallow here, will you.” Kalla pointed to a corner of the table. Chloë walked toward Kalla.
“Hi, Auntie Kalla. I brought you some cheese to say thank you for the pot,” Chloë replied. “I left it inside.” Chloë put the tallow on the table. She stood beside Kalla.
Kalla was watching Mellissa and Clarissa. The girls were seated on the expanse. Their backs against the house, each girl was plucking a partridge. The girls had a pile of feathers between them and big bowls of bloody water between their legs.
“Let’s bring some more hot water, Chloë,” Kalla said. Kalla picked up the water-pot and the strip of sheepskin that Clarissa had used. Chloë followed Kalla through the house.
On the patio, Kalla set the empty pot near the yard’s north wall. Kalla turned toward Chloë. “Chloë, I was thinking about what you said . . . about what I wish. If I could have any wish, I would wish for people to mind their own business.”
Chloë stammered, “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Kalla shuffled east. She reached into a fat, broken pot. She pulled out of it a cake of dried dung. She took the cake to the oven and tossed the cake into the fire.
“I mean,” said Kalla, “my wish is that people who know other people’s secrets will keep those secrets to themselves.” Kalla picked up a pot of water that stood next to the oven on its north side.
“I don’t understand,” Chloë insisted.
“I mean people shouldn’t go around telling secrets, or saying they will tell a secret if somebody doesn’t do what they want.” Kalla put the water-pot onto the oven to catch the heat.
“Medusa is doing that,” Chloë said.
Kalla spoke loudly while she looked toward Medusa’s house, “Yes. She has a big mouth that one.” Kalla picked up the pot that Chloë had brought with her.
“That’s the pot you gave me earlier. I’m on my way to the well,” Chloë said. “I’ll take the pot when I go.” Chloë stepped closer to her pot.
Kalla put the pot down. “That Medusa could be a real troublemaker. The girls were saying she has some secret about you.”
“She said she had important information for me — something I really should know, she said, but I had to be her slave first.”
“You see. That isn’t right. She’s acting like a goddess. She could set parent against child, or husband against wife.” Kalla raised her voice. “That’s why I wish people would not be tattletales. Some secrets should stay secret.” Kalla watched the pot on the oven.
Chloë grumbled, “Medusa has always something mean to say, but I don’t let her get to me. I know she’s trying to get a rise out of me. I don’t pay her any heed. I should go. I think you will like the cheese. Thank you again for the pot.” Chloë picked up her pot.
“If you need another, you are welcome to it,” Kalla said.
“Thank you,” Chloë repeated. She stepped into the alley. She turned toward the well.
Robust Diana, the oldest daughter of Argon and Iphigenia, was pulling up the pail when Chloë arrived at the well. “Hi, Diana,” Chloë said. Chloë put her pot on the well’s rim, west of Diana.
“Hi, Chloë,” Diana replied.
Out of the eastern alley, Alicia and Portia each carried an empty water-pot by its rim. “Hi, Alicia. Hi, Portia,” Chloë said to the girls who were very nearly her age.
“Hi, Portia. Hi, Alicia,” Diana said.
“Hi, Diana. Hi, Chloë,” Alicia and Portia said.
As Alicia was setting her pot on the rim of the well, she moaned, “Chloë, you poor thing.”
Portia put her pot on the rim beside her older sister’s pot. Portia asked, “Are you sad, Chloë?”
“No,” Chloë said. “Why should I be sad?” Diana poured from the pail into her pot.
Alicia asked, “What did you think when Medusa said you should be her slave?”
“She’s always trying to get my goat, but I
don’t let her upset me. I wish . . . no, I don’t wish. I have no wish. I don’t care what she says,” Chloë said. She leaned over the well’s rim. She looked down.
“She told me,” Alicia stated, “I have to fetch for her two pots of water every day. If I don’t, she is going to tell Mom something that will make her really sad. I went straight to Mom. I asked her if she had a secret that would make her really sad if other people knew it.”
“She said she didn’t have any secret, but maybe Dad did,” Portia said.
Alicia declared, “Mom cried. She wouldn’t tell us more. I am going to do what Medusa wants.”
Portia whispered, “Some extra chores won’t hurt us.”
Diana tossed the empty pail into the well. She moved her filled pot along the rim westward. She stepped westward to where she was out of Chloë’s way. Chloë moved her pot close to where the pail-rope was. Diana said, “I wonder who put the evil-eye on Medusa. Whoever it is must be one wicked witch.”
****
In the late afternoon Chloë was sitting on the east side of her patio. Using a stone that was twice as big as her fist, she was pounding some handfuls of wheat that were in a cup-shaped dent in a rock between her knees. After a few moments she put the pounding-stone down. She jumped up. After brushing some smudges of flour from her tunic, she grabbed the empty water-pot that was beside the front doorway. She crossed the patio and went quickly out the west entrance.
Chloë dashed up the slope. She put her pot down in front of the well. She grabbed the pail from the pail-rock. She threw the pail into the well. She leaned over the rim. Chloë whispered, “Wishyouwell.”
One moment later thin, young Pandora called, “What are you doing, Chloë?”
Chloë grabbed the pail-rope. She swung her head toward the west. Chloë stammered, “Oh, hi. It’s you, Pandora. I’m filling my pot — as usual — like anybody. I’m here filling up the old pot. From where did you come?” Chloë put her pot on the well’s rim.
Pandora responded, “What were you saying?” She peered into the well.
“I was thinking out loud. I was saying that I’m glad I’m first at the well. Why aren’t you with Big Ears?”
“Her mother wanted to talk to her.”
Chloë pulled up the pail. She poured the water into her pot. She said, “Some people think Medusa is stirring up trouble.”
“I don’t think so. I like being with her. She knows everything. You should have agreed to be her slave.”
“I can do without her secrets.” Chloë put the pail on its rock. She put the muff and the pot on her head. “See you later,” Chloë said. She went down the steps toward the beach. When Chloë turned to go into her home, she glanced toward the well. Pandora was no longer there.
Without stepping over the sill, Chloë put the water-pot onto her patio. She stuffed the muff into a handle. She ran up the steps to the well and stuck her head over the rim. With her hands cupped round her mouth, Chloë whispered gruffly, “Wishyouwell.”
After a few moments Wishyouwell called merrily, “Who’s there?”
“It’s . . . no. I’m . . . . Wait. Do you remember me?”
Wishyouwell appeared in the hole in the wall. He was carrying a lit oil-lamp. “Of course, I remember you,” said the gnome. “I met you only this morning; didn’t I? I remember your voice too. I have keen hearing.”
“Good. I wish Medusa had her regular, old ears back.”
“As you wish.” Wishyouwell snapped his fingers. “Anything else?”
“No.”
Near Medusa’s home, several girls squealed.
****
Shortly before suppertime a combed and clean Chloë, with her pot, arrived at the well. In front of her were half a score of girls. Medusa was the center of attention. Diana, Pandora, Lavinia, Euphemia, Alicia, Portia, Megaera and four younger girls were fluttering round Medusa.
Sternly Medusa asked Chloë, “What’s your problem?”
Medusa’s companions moved out of the line of sight between Medusa and Chloë. Medusa’s companions turned toward Chloë. Medusa and her companions fixed their eyes on Chloë.
Chloë stammered, “I . . . your . . . you . . . uh . . . I—” Chloë gawked at Medusa.
Medusa had big ears — big, pointy, hairy donkey-ears. “Look,” Medusa said. “Chloë can’t talk. The gods must be doing good deeds.” The girls snickered.
Chloë barked, “Don’t you have to make trouble somewhere?”
Her big ears twitching, Medusa stepped toward Chloë. Medusa snarled, “You know, nobody is going to miss you when you’re gone. Everybody will say good riddance!” Medusa turned away from Chloë. Medusa declared, “Let’s go!”
Chapter 9 : Chloë’s final wish
No one remained at the well after Medusa left it except thin, young Pandora and Chloë. Cradling a small brown puppy, Pandora was standing at the west side of the well. Chloë was holding the pail. Pandora said, “You should be nice to Medusa.”
“But Pandora,” said Chloë. “I . . . she . . . but—”
Pandora danced away westward. Chloë put her pot on the well’s rim. She leaned over the water. Chloë whispered loudly, “Wishyouwell. Wishyouwell.”
Wishyouwell trilled merrily, “Who is there?” He stepped with his lit lamp to the edge of the black hole.
“It’s . . . you know.”
“Oh, it’s you . . . again. Do you want your final wish?”
“No. I want to know what happened.”
“What do you mean what happened?”
“I mean nothing happened. Things are not as I wished them to be.”
“I did as you asked. I can do no more.”
“But you didn’t do as I asked. Nothing happened.”
“Yes, it did.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“It did.”
“It didn’t. Everything should be as it was.”
“No, it shouldn’t.”
“Yes, it should.”
“No.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s right. You have jumped to a conclusion. You have not considered other possibilities. You have not thought about other explanations for why things are the way they are. You have chosen to find fault with me when the fault lies with you.”
“You are talking in riddles.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. I made a wish and it didn’t come true.”
“Yes, it did.”
“No, it didn’t. If the wish had come true, then Med . . . You-Know-Who . . . would have her old . . . you-know-what . . . again.
“You are assuming that you are the only person who can have wishes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“What if you made a wish and then somebody else made a wish?”
“But I’m the only one who . . . you know, fell and . . . you know.”
“Are you?”
“I haven’t heard of anyone else, you know, falling and doing what I did.”
“And, if you haven’t heard of something, then it cannot be true? Is that what you are saying? Only things that you have heard are true? If so, you are truly a silly person. Perhaps it would be best if you didn’t make any more wishes.”
“Are you saying somebody else did what I did? You mean someone else has . . . . Oh, I see. Who? Who is it?”
“I am not at liberty to say. You should consider that there are others who have come before you, and there will be others who will come after you. I serve each as well as I can. It is not my fault if what some people want is the contrary of what other people want. Do you want to make another wish?”
“No. I need to think.”
“What a good idea! I’m always in favor of thinking. Thinking is good. You should always think about after. What is going to happen after I do this or after I do that? What will come after? What will tomorrow bring — what about the day after tomorrow?”
&nb
sp; Without her muff and her pot, Chloë ran from the well. She dashed down the steps and onto her patio. She paced back and forth. She kept her arms folded in front of her. After several turns, she threw up her hands. She hurried to the well.
Megaera and Pandora were at the well. Megaera was setting a pot upon a muff of fleece that was on her head. Pandora was sitting on the well’s rim. When Chloë was four strides from the well, Megaera walked into the west alley. Chloë stepped close to the well’s rim. She said, “Hi, Pandora. Where’s your best friend?”
Pandora was gently petting her puppy. “She’s gone above to listen to what the boys are saying. I am not interested in what the boys are saying. Who do you think gave Medusa her big ears?”
“I don’t know — pixies maybe.” Chloë picked up her muff and her pot. “I forgot my pot. Bye.”
****
Not much later Chloë was at the well again. She was alone. Her pot was on the rim’s west side. Chloë looked into the well. She cupped her hands round her mouth. She whispered loudly, “Wishyouwell.”
After a moment the old gnome appeared with his lamp. He sang, “Who is it?”
In a whisper, Chloë responded, “It is I.”
“You again.”
“I wish for Medusa’s ears to be as they were a day ago.”
Wishyouwell declared, “Done!” He snapped his fingers. From the west side of the hamlet, Medusa and Megaera screamed. Wishyouwell said, “I hope your wishes have brought you some joy. May the Fates treat you kindly.” Wishyouwell turned away from Chloë.
Chloë grabbed her pot. She leapt down the stairs. She arrived at the entrance to her patio at the same time as her brothers and her father. She waited for Leonidas, Aristarchus and Aspidos to go onto the patio. Marcos barked, “Did you bake bread?”
Chapter 10 : The altar-man
Beneath the twinkle of Nyx’s jewels, one stone’s throw above the sea, Mentor and his companions were heading westward. Poseidon was keeping the sea calm beneath Selenë’s dim glow. Zephyrus was pushing against the flyers with a gentle, warm breath.
Mentor had the lead. Iphitus and Helice were flying side-by-side behind Mentor. In the rear, Jono was flying beside Aegis.
Mentor pushed his broom down. He veered to the north toward an island that a man could have walked across in one day. Mentor’s companions followed Mentor.
