Zeus (Book One of The God Chronicles)

by Kamery Solomon

  “Shoot. My phone is going to die. I knew I should’ve burned all of these onto discs,” he said as the song ended.

  “That’s fine!” I shot my hand out and turned the sound system off. My grip on the steering wheel relaxed as sweet silence filled my ears.

  “We’re about halfway there, right?” He drummed his fingers on the dash and started humming to himself.

  “Yeah,” I said, searching for something to talk about so he would stop.

  “So my parents,” I started, finally landing on a relevant topic, “they’re a little conservative.”

  “Is that bad?” he laughed.

  “Not really,” I said uncomfortably. “I wanted to warn you, that’s all.”

  “Why would I need warning?”

  “Because I worry they’ll pull you aside and try to have a talk with you about stuff—my dad especially.”

  “Ah,” he said with understanding. “Don’t worry about it. They should make sure I’m treating you right. That’s their job, to make sure their little girl is taken care of.” He smiled at me, the full force of his affection slamming into me with that one look.

  “Is there anything else I need to know about them?” he asked when I didn’t say anything else.

  “Um, I’d call them Mr. and Mrs. Rawlins, or just Sir for my dad. They find that respectable. Also, I didn’t tell them you own a casino. You get to do that. If you have any educational background, pump that up. Pretty much, be polite as possible and pray they like you.” I laughed as I realized how harshly I was painting my parents.

  “They really are nice people,” I reassured. “They’re definitely set in their ways, that’s all.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, taking one of my hands. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  We stopped at a gas station so I could take a little break. Zeus offered to drive, but I thought having something to do the whole time might calm my nerves. When I came back out to the car, he was standing in front of it, holding a cord. He looked like a kid in a candy store.

  “What’s that?” I asked, laughing.

  “It’s the car charger for my phone! I remembered I packed it in my suitcase!”

  “Awesome . . .” I got back in the car and was soon being serenaded again.

  “So, what’s the story that goes along with this pumpkin patch?” Zeus gently intertwined his fingers with mine, pulling me down the row of gourds at the local farm.

  “What do you mean?” I laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

  “You keep smiling to yourself and staring at everything way too long.” Mock seriousness crossed his face before being shut out by his enormous grin.

  “It’s nothing,” I giggled, stopping to examine the produce in front of me. “I worked the haunted corn maze here one year. We scared lots of people—one girl so bad that she wet herself. I led her out of the maze, but she kept crying that I was going to take her somewhere to be scared again. I felt so bad! It feels even worse when I think back on it, because I still think that it was funny.”

  Zeus pulled his hand from mine, horror etched into every inch of his expression.

  “You scared people? For fun?!” His mocking tone was awarded a snort and my best exaggerated eye roll.

  “Ha ha, very funny. Yes, I was a horrible person.”

  “No—it’s not that—I can’t believe that anyone would hire sweet, innocent, loving Karly to scare the pants off of people. That was a risky investment right there.” Zeus’s laughter filled the air as heat filled my cheeks.

  “Jerk!”

  Swatting his arm—and almost tripping over the vines around me—I spotted the perfect pumpkins.

  “Alright, calm down. I found the ones I want!”

  Zeus finally calmed down to a chuckle in time to help me gather my purchases.

  “Let’s get going, already. I’m ready to meet your folks!” His warm smile washed over me and my skin prickled in delight.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  We pulled into town with the two pumpkins we had picked up to surprise my mother. It felt nice to be home, which was odd after all of the times I wished I’d never see it again.

  “See that little book store?” I asked, pointing out my window. “I worked there one summer. It was lots of fun spending all that time surrounded by books. On slow days, I would sit by the front window and paint.”

  I smiled at the familiar hometown stores, remembering things that happened there.

  “The grocery store we just passed,” I said again, “one of my friends worked there during high school. The power went out when I was there once, and she screamed like she was about to be murdered. At first I thought she was doing it to be funny. Turns out, she really was scared.” I giggled, remembering that night. The friend moved away after graduation and we didn’t talk any more. I hoped she was enjoying life, wherever she was.

  “That’s where I went my first two years of college,” I said as we drove by the GBC campus. “The high school is down another street.”

  I finally turned down a side road and could see my parent’s house. It looked the same as it always had; green grass, red-brick walls, white-trimmed roof and windows. The front door was white as well. It was a cute little house, comfortable for our family.

  I pulled the car up to the curb and shut it off. Thankfully, Zeus had ceased his singing when we got into town so all was quiet.

  “Ready?” I asked, nervously.

  “I am.” He smiled.

  We got out of the car and he grabbed our two bags out of the back while I got the pumpkins. The front door burst open as we walked up the sidewalk dividing the lawn in half, and my mother came running out. Her slacks and a long-sleeve, white blouse, were covered by a pink apron. She’d probably been baking in preparation for tomorrow’s feast.

  “Karly! John, Karly’s home!” She gave me a bear hug when she reached me, despite the two large gourds I held.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said, laughing.

  “And who is this?” she said, turning to Zeus.

  “Zeus Drakos, Mrs. Rawlins.” He put one bag on the ground and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “And very nice to meet you!” My mother gave me a look much like the one she wore when reading a particularly good romance novel.

  “Hey kiddo!” Dad stood in the doorway looking the same as usual—slightly graying, short, brown hair, jeans, and a work shirt. His typical appraising eyes made me feel like he had Zeus under a microscope. I walked up to him—my mother and Zeus behind me—and gave him an awkward hug.

  “Hi Daddy,” I said, smiling.

  “Zeus, is it?” Dad said, reaching out to shake hands as well, all the while studying Zeus’s face.

  “Yes, sir.” Zeus appeared confident, but I was positive he would be having a private talk with my father later.

  “Come on in, make yourself comfortable,” Dad said cooly.

  “How was the drive?” asked Mom.

  It really was nice to be home.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I got up early the next morning to help Mom cook, as was tradition. For as long as I could remember, we made pies first—the day before and the morning of—then prepared the turkey and put it in the oven, worked on all of the dips for crackers and vegetables, and finished with the non-pie desserts. It was a lot of work, but definitely worth it. Throughout the day, extended family members would show up and help, women for the most part.

  I left my old room and tiptoed down the hall, passing the door to Zeus’s. Thankfully, he hadn’t made any jokes about sleeping in the same bed last night. It was weird to have him sleeping down the hall in my parent’s house. So far they seemed to like him well enough, but they hadn’t really talked much.

  We arrived in time for dinner the day before. There wasn’t a whole lot of conversation at the table. Mom was a good cook—people usually preferred stuffing their faces over talking.

  I could tell from Dad’s face he wanted to give Ze
us “the talk.” I wasn’t exactly sure what it entailed, but every boy who’d ever taken me out had received it. A lot of them never asked me out again. They usually came out of “the talk” looking a little sick. I didn’t know if Dad was threatening them or grossing them out with personal things about me, like potty training stories.

  Mom, on the other hand, looked like she was about to burst from all the things she wanted to say. It wasn’t her style to interrupt dinner, though, so she’d remained silent. Cleaning up afterward had kept her from chatting as well, and even with our offer to help, she’d refused. He tried to help her anyway but got chased out with a soapy spatula. I already knew better.

  I smiled at the feel of the shag carpet under my feet. I didn’t think I’d missed home at all, but now that I was here, I realized I had been homesick. Everything looked older because, frankly, the house was older. The avocado green carpet matched the brown wood paneling on the walls, but it felt warm and cozy. All the furniture was a matching floral orange and the kitchen had decorative plates hanging on the walls. I didn’t think much had changed since they bought it in the late seventies, but I still loved it.

  The smell of fresh pies beckoned me to the kitchen. Early as it was, Mom had definitely already been up and working. I made my way through the living and dining rooms and past the open kitchen door. The tile felt cool on my feet, but the air was hot.

  Mom had donned her apron again, over her jeans and special Thanksgiving sweater she wore every year. The sleeves were rolled up past her elbow, her arms covered in flour. She paused in her task of rolling out pie crust. Using her elbow, she tried to brush a light-brown strand of hair out of her face. She had pulled it back into a low ponytail, but it her work was making it come undone. I smiled as I stood just inside the door, listening to her hum as she worked.

  Like Dad, she hadn’t wanted me to move. After my first visit to the Strip, I understood what they were afraid of. Zeus was right; they had only been trying to take care of me. Mom had given her permission for me to go first. I’d talked with her about it a little and she, in turn, helped Dad come around to the idea.

  As I thought about Zeus’s uncle, and what a horrible man he seemed to be, gratitude for my loving parents filled my heart.

  “Morning Mom,” I said, announcing my presence.

  She jumped, dropping her rolling pin and spinning around. I laughed at the shocked look that was peeking out from under the flour on her face.

  “Karly, you startled me! I’m not used to having people up and about yet, anymore.”

  “Sorry,” I said, still laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” She was so clueless sometimes.

  “Mom, there’s flour all over your face.”

  “Oh dear!” she laughed, bending over to see herself in the shiny, silver mixing bowl. She grabbed a relatively clean corner of her apron and wiped her face. “Is my makeup still good? I want to look nice for the handsome young man you brought home with you.” She winked at me and I blushed.

  “You look fine, Mom. Promise.” I walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Do you mind if I have some cereal before I start helping?”

  “That’s fine, sweetie. Clean bowls are in the dishwasher.” With that, she picked up her rolling pin and went back to work while I grabbed a clean bowl and spoon and poured myself some food.

  As I leaned against the counter across the room from her and ate, there was nothing but the sound of the rolling pin. It was nice—almost therapeutic—watching her work. She had already finished several crusts and laid them in their pans so she would have room for the batch she was working on now.

  After I finished, I rinsed my dishes and washed my hands. My apron, a perfect match to my mother’s, was folded in its customary place in one of the kitchen drawers. I slipped it over my head and tied it in the back.

  “What do you want me to start working on?” It was best to let the master run things. I couldn’t even imagine a future where I was as good at running holiday affairs as she was.

  “Why don’t you prepare the pumpkins you brought?” she suggested. “Put all the seeds in a bowl and then you can stick them in the oven—it’s already on. They should make really nice pies.”

  Even though pumpkin pie was my favorite, I loathed making it completely from scratch. I obediently got a carving knife out of a drawer and began cutting the pumpkins in half.

  “So, tell me more about Zeus,” she said, huffing over her exuberant rolling.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “How did you two meet?” She lifted her eyes and smiled at me, still rolling while she waited for my answer.

  “Uh . . .” I didn’t know if she would appreciate the fact we met in a club. She was bound to find out the truth eventually, though.

  “We met at a club in one of the resorts on the Strip.” Zeus could tell my dad about how we met. He was strong enough to fend for himself.

  “A club? I thought you didn’t go to those things.” She looked concerned, but not angry. That was good.

  “I don’t very often. My roommates took me out to see the city and all of the shows. It was fun, but we didn’t stay out long.”

  “Why is that?”

  “It wasn’t my scene,” I fibbed, dropping a spoonful of seeds into the bowl.

  “But that’s where you met Zeus,” she continued.

  “Yeah, we danced together for a little bit.”

  “Was it your first date?” She was smiling again, having moved on to the next step in the pie process: laying the crust into the pan.

  “No, we went out to dinner and a fancy art exhibit for our first date.” I grinned, remembering how my opinion of Zeus had altered that night.

  “That’s nice,” she said, distracted as she trimmed the crust and began to crimp it. “Why didn’t you tell me about him during our phone calls?”

  “I didn’t know if it was going anywhere. It seemed pointless to tell you about every date I went on,” I laughed.

  Her face remained serious as she took a deep breath.

  “Do you two sleep together?” she blurted out.

  “Oh my gosh, Mom,” I groaned. “Really?”

  “Yes, really! This is something I need to know!” She put the crust pie filling down and placed her hands on her hips.

  “No it’s not, not really,” I argued. “But, to make you feel better, no. We don’t sleep together.”

  She went back to work without saying anything. After a moment she turned to me again.

  “Good for you. He’s a very attractive man, and you are a beautiful woman. Thank you for being strong.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said sarcastically, mostly to myself.

  “Morning ladies,” Dad said from behind us. “It smells marvelous in here!”

  “It’s all Mom so far,” I said, turning to look at him. He was wearing his jeans and a football jersey. His folded sweater was hanging over one arm.

  “Where’s your beau?” he asked. “I want to take him for a walk this morning.” Mom shot a knowing glance my way, and I stifled a giggle.

  “I think he’s still in his room, Daddy.”

  “For Pete’s sake, John. At least let the boy eat before you scare him away,” Mom yelled after him as he left the room.

  “Walking on an empty stomach is good for ya!” he called back.

  I shook my head. They hadn’t changed one bit. It was like I’d been away for the weekend, not almost a whole semester.

  I could hear my dad talking as I began the messy work of deseeding the first pumpkin. The stringy, seed goop worked its way up my arm as I struggled in vain to hear what he was saying, and I could only hear the mumble of Zeus’s answer. Mom’s laughter filled the room at the sight of me—seeds fell to the floor, and sticky sludge was on my cheek from where I wiped a strand of hair from my face. I loved her joyous face—I guess that is why I do this year after year. I smiled back at mom as the front door opened and then closed leaving the rest of the house quiet again.
/>   “He’ll be fine,” Mom said reassuringly, and I suddenly wasn’t worried at all.

  “I know he will be,” I said surprisingly confident. Zeus had the smooth talking skills of a politician. Dad would be completely on his side in no time at all.

  I finished my work, placing the clean, cut pieces face down on a cookie sheet and slipping them in the hot oven along with a couple of mom’s pies. She’d already moved on to making stuffing while I started cleaning up my mess, but had left a clean mixing bowl for me to finish my pies.

  A couple years back she upgraded to double ovens in the kitchen. It was the only thing I could remember her purposely changing. It made holidays like today easier. While pies baked in one, the turkey would cook in another.

  My first task done and waiting for the second step of actually making the pies, I moved on to the next tradition. While Mom made stuffing, I pulled the bagged organs out of the bird and got it completely ready to go. We worked in comfortable silence. I enjoyed the peaceful feeling of it all.

  By the time the turkey and pumpkin pies were finished and in the oven, the first family members walked through the door. I was hoping it was Zeus and Dad, but they were still out somewhere, talking about who knows what.

  “Good to see you Karly!” my Aunt Violet said as she walked into the kitchen, placing her contribution of crackers and dip on the table. “You too, Mary!” Mom stopped working to hug her sister, welcoming and thanking her for coming over.

  “What do you need help with?” Aunt Violet started rolling her sleeves up, prepared to dive right into the work. I chuckled as I caught sight of her shirt with a turkey holding a sign that read, “Eat more chicken!” Her pilgrim hat earrings swung back and forth, peeking out from her half pulled up, black hair as she walked over to the counter. We really got into the festivities around here.