by May Burnett
“I’d love that,” I say, and mean it. “But better not. Every single guest is hand-picked and familiar to everyone else. For me to dance with somebody unknown would provoke a security uproar. And if you take the form of some other guest,” I anticipate his next suggestion, “there would be talk afterwards, and the person would know he had not danced with me.”
“I’ll still drop in, invisibly, then,” Hell promises. I nod in relief. “I’ll come to you afterwards, here, and tell you how I liked the dress.”
“Thanks.” That will give me something to look forward to during the party. “Maybe you can help me figure out what kind of problem there is in my family. Some of them are behaving strangely. I’m not completely at ease with anyone except Mom, it’s not like I remember from before. But maybe it’s just that I’ve grown up and see people more critically now.”
“All teenagers do that,” Hell agrees. “Even Myra and I. But I’ll try to see, or rather hear, what is going on. You have good people instincts, Mel; if you feel uneasy I’m sure there is a real cause. You haven’t had any more of those forebodings, I hope?”
I quickly reassure him. There have been no bad dreams here, but of course I only arrived today.
“My brothers are like strangers and don’t seem to feel any affection, or desire for my company.” My voice sounds plaintive. Deal with it, Melinda, I admonish myself.
“Being born in the same family does not necessarily lead to closeness.”
“You and Myra seem to get on well enough.”
“Not always, and we have very different interests. There is a whole decade or more between you and your brothers. Since you’ve been gone for years, it’s only natural that you’ve grown apart.”
I suppose he is right, but I’m still not happy about it. “Maybe I can do something about it while I’m here now.”
“Don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work. As the older siblings, they should make the effort. If they don’t see it as worthwhile - …” He does not need to spell out the rest. “They must be fools, not to cherish you, as I do.”
“You are biased,” I point out.
“No doubt about that,” he agrees, and draws closer for a sweet and lingering kiss.
What do I care about my self-absorbed brothers and business-focused father, while I have the full attention and affection of a Greek God? And what’s more, the most handsome and smartest of them all.
We talk a little more. Hell tells me that he’s been able to get the Internet working up in New Olympus. Now we can exchange email messages between different dimensions. The mind boggles, but with gods nothing is impossible, after all. When I say so, however, Hell shakes his head.
“We are far from omnipotent. For instance, I cannot get around linear time, though I keep trying. And most of my fellow gods are frustrated to be restricted in their visits to earth. Also, while we’re on Earth, our powers are much stronger in Greece and the Mediterranean region, than here in the New World.”
“You never seem to lack for power.” I am puzzled. “Like that time you put a geas on the entire internet, so Myra could not be mentioned by name or picture – is it still active, by the way?”
“Oh, yes. It takes no additional effort to keep up. But that was a minor task for me. In Greece I could call up a volcano from the seabed and kill off half the country. Here that would be much harder, presumably because it is an alien region. The local gods, if any survive, would be stronger here than in my part of the world.”
“Local gods? But we’re all Catholics. More or less.”
“You still have indigenous tribes,” Hell points out. “If we survived after people stopped believing in us, it stands to reason that the same would be true of deities in other parts of the world.”
I think of the bloodthirsty Aztec and Inca gods with their hunger for human sacrifice, and shiver.
“Well, if any of them exist, I have never seen hide or hair of them,” I stoutly declare. “Let’s not waste this time together with such gloomy speculation. Kiss me again.”
He does not need to be told twice. If he kisses this well at fourteen, what will he be like at twenty? I shut my eyes, push away all thoughts of the future, and enjoy the moment.
8 Melinda
The birthday ball is a great success. I have been dancing so much my feet are starting to hurt. I am not used to wearing high heels, and by no means sure I ever want to get used to them.
Everyone has complimented me, but objectively speaking, Jacinta in her gold-coloured sheath of a gown is a lot more sexy and attractive. She is dancing with my brother Pedro just now, while I’m with her fiancé, Diego. In black tie he looks even more handsome, like some classic movie star.
His is a name I always associated with old Zorro movies, and rather liked, but no more. This particular Diego has not grown on me since I learned he’s engaged to Jacinta. During our previous meeting he didn’t touch me, but tonight, from the moment he takes me in his muscular arms the tiny hairs on my back stand to nervous attention, and a cold current passes down my spine. All my instincts scream to get away from him.
“So we meet again,” Diego says. His voice is deep, almost mesmerizing. “It won’t be for the last time.”
“Oh? I guess not, if you’re going to marry my cousin. Where did you meet Jacinta?”
“In Bogotá, at someone’s birthday party. Your brother Jorge was the one who introduced us. I’ve heard quite a bit about you, you know.”
We dance in silence for a few turns. Diego is an excellent dancer, much more experienced than I. Of course at his age he’s had a lot more time to practice. I wish, as so often before, that I were taller. I don’t even reach his shoulder. He could break me in two like a breadstick.
I mull over his remark, that he’s heard a lot about me. Has Jacinta been bad-mouthing me? We never got on well, but those were childish quarrels and rivalries, and should be long behind us.
The longer I am close to him, the stronger becomes my irrational distrust of the guy. I tell myself to remain calm and just get the dance over with. It’s my Grandmother’s party, not the time and place for a scene. Since he hasn’t really said or done anything objectionable, I would look like a fool. Still -
“You may be riding high now,” Diego says suddenly, “but you won’t live to inherit.”
“What?” I must have misunderstood. “What are you going on about?” Encountering a piercingly cold look from his long-lashed eyes, I take a step back and nearly stumble as I bump into another couple. Diego’s ochre eyes have an oddly luminous quality; I cannot look away from them. My heart is hammering fast.
Diego just catches me up in his arms again and continues dancing as though nothing had happened, but his grip is too hard, just this side of hurting me. My cheeks heat with anger.
If Hell were near, he would help me. He’ll be furious when I tell him about this later on. Maybe together we can do something to prevent this lout from marrying into my family. I don’t want to meet Diego at future family parties for the rest of my life. His last name is unfamiliar to me, but he must be from a wealthy and respectable background to have been approved as a suitor; Jacinta’s parents, Uncle Hector and especially Aunt Teresa, are frightful snobs. I decide to google Diego and his background as soon as I get a chance, already convinced that there must be unsavoury details in his history.
Plotting my dancing partner’s downfall calms me, and to my relief, a few minutes later the music stops. I leave Diego standing on the floor without ceremony and quickly move away.
It is shortly before midnight, and the orchestra is taking a well-deserved break. The master of ceremonies calls for a toast to celebrate Grandmother’s birthday. Dozens of uniformed waiters offer champagne to everyone. I snag a glass, and obediently raise it in grandmother’s honour. We are not as rigid about alcohol for minors here as they are back in the USA. But I’m not too keen on the taste, and only drink a few drops because otherwise it’s not a valid toast.
As we all stand there in o
ur finery, champagne flutes in hand, Father, Uncle Hector, and Aunt Rinalda in turn give speeches of congratulation and appreciation, each followed by applause and more toasts. They all mention Grandmother’s dual roles as family matriarch and boss of a business empire. Though Grandmother deserves every one of their fulsome compliments, I cannot help wishing they got on with it. Standing still in high heels is even more painful than dancing. Involuntarily I wince.
A familiar hand brushes against the small of my back, and the pain in my feet miraculously vanishes. I could dance for hours more, as fresh energy pours through my body. Though I cannot see him, I know Hell is here, right next to me. My heart lightens.
Grandmother approaches the microphone, to thank everyone who has come to celebrate this special occasion with her. She talks about business only briefly, thanking those family members who have assisted her in its management.
My mind has been drifting a bit, but a sudden change in atmosphere focuses my attention. Grandmother is saying that large fortunes should not be broken up, and that after her, the whole will go to - I nearly drop with surprise. Everything will come to me? But I don’t even want it!
The whole three hundred guests, not counting bodyguards, waiters and other staff, are looking at me. I feel a blush creeping up, and am more grateful than I can say for the grip of Hell’s invisible hand on mine, as he whispers, “Chin up, Mel!”
Catching Jorge’s baleful stare, I involuntarily shiver.
Why didn’t anybody warn me? And why did Grandmother announce her plans to the world like this? My brothers – well, Jorge at least - already dislike me quite enough. Did they know she was planning this? No, they look too shell-shocked. They were clearly as unprepared as I was.
The only people pleased with her announcement seem Grandmother herself and my mother, who is beaming. Even father looks disconcerted.
“Smile, and act as though everything is all right,” Hell whispers. He pours a little more energy into me; it feels like a mild electric current. I nod, and do as he says. Dozens of people surge round me, congratulating, fawning.
When I finally reach Grandmother’s side she smiles at me. “I know you will do a good job as my successor, Melinda. You remind me of myself at your age.”
“Grandmother, I appreciate your trust,” I say, not smiling back, “but you blindsided me, and I fear father and my brothers are not going to like it. I don’t suppose they will want to work for their little sister. I am the only one who has never been involved in the business, and I’m not at all sure I want to become a tycoon.”
“Your feelings do you credit.” She still smiles. “If they are not happy to work for you, we’ll just have to replace them. Hopefully by the time you take over, everyone will have accepted the situation and made their arrangements accordingly.”
I get the distinct impression she would not mind if some of my brothers resigned sooner rather than later. There are clearly things going on here of which I’m unaware.
“I hope you change your mind,” I tell Grandmother. “It is an honour, but also a burden, and I’m not sure I want the burden. I’m only sixteen, remember.”
“You’ll do fine.”
My mother, who has been listening to this exchange, nods in emphatic agreement with grandmother’s edict. Clearly for now, there is nothing I can do.
I wander off in search of a non-alcoholic drink and a quiet corner where I can consult my invisible boyfriend.
9 Melinda
There is no chance of communication with Hell; people are all over me. From one moment to the next I’ve become the most interesting person here, especially once Grandmother retires to her chambers towards one in the morning. The others go on dancing, drinking, and gossiping. Since Hell gave me that energy booster I can easily keep up, but my heart is not in it. The spectacle of so many people suddenly finding me fascinating, who until an hour ago did not care if I lived or died – and probably still don’t, really – is depressing.
Just before two I retire to my own chamber, noting only now that it is the best bedroom on the first floor, even bigger than Mom’s. A hint that I was the favoured heiress, but I did not understand. I don’t think much about money. Now I have no choice.
The dress has a tiny fastening in back that is difficult to reach.
“Allow me,” Hell murmurs and deftly lowers the zipper. He has just materialised, in that way he has. Not everyone would be able to adapt to that, I reflect.
He steps back and grins at me, his usual daredevil expression. “It is a spectacular dress, just as you said. May I watch as you take it off?”
“Watch away.” He has seen me in my skimpy bikini, and there’s so little substance to me, anyway. I strip off the dress and put it on the waiting hanger. The huge ventilator silently turning overhead sends a draft of cooler air towards my body, now only clad in black silk underwear.
I put on a light wrapper; tie the belt across my midriff. “These heels were killing me, thanks for the relief earlier on. I can’t understand that so many women wear heels on a regular basis.”
Hell shrugs. “It’s no big mystery. They value the added height and longer-looking legs over their health and comfort. But we have other things to discuss.” Hell has turned serious, an expression I rarely see on him. I nod, a little apprehensively, and plop down on the big sofa, stretching my legs out before me on the soft calf leather.
“I’ve done some investigation, and eavesdropping, since your Grandmother’s big announcement.” Hell’s clever hands softly massage my tired feet and toes. It feels heavenly. “There has been tension between your Grandmother and your father for several months. I gather she had some plan to dedicate a large area of forest as a wildlife preserve, and was going to name it after you.”
I blink. It was to have borne my name? Well, I am the only one in the whole extended family who cares about nature. “Grandmother told me the plan fell through. What happened?”
“She fell ill. Pneumonia, resistant to most medications, and she came very close to dying before they finally managed to cure her with a rare antibiotic.”
“She nearly died?” I am shocked. “I thought it was just a bad cold. Nobody told me how bad it was.”
“While your grandmother was in hospital, and later recovering over a number of weeks, her doctors insisted on complete peace and quiet, and no business dealings. It was during that time that your father sent in the bulldozers and razed the valley she wanted to turn into a wildlife refuge. The timber is sold off, and the area is now used for soybean cultivation.”
“Without Grandmother’s knowledge?” No wonder she was angry, if Father went behind her back while she was so ill.
“Maybe he did not expect her to recover,” Hell speculates. “He was against the plan from the beginning, and your brothers supported him. They even implied that your grandmother was getting sentimental from senility.”
The greedy fools! I feel angry on behalf on my abuela, and a little – I confess – also on my own behalf. I really wanted that wildlife preserve and the job that went with it. Thinking over Hell’s information, I conclude that it serves Dad and my brothers right if they are disinherited. Probably they already thought the company was theirs in all but name. Announcing her decision in front of them tonight was clearly Grandmother’s punishment, from which I deduce that she must have been deeply angered and disappointed in them. And for all my affection I know she’s no saint - she probably wanted to savour her revenge while she still could; just changing her will was not enough.
“It still puts you in a very difficult position,” Hell says as I think it over. “Though maybe she’ll relent and change her will again.”
“Not likely, you don’t know her. My grandmother is stubborn as a mule, and after announcing something in front of three hundred guests, going back on her word would mean a loss of face. No, I fear I’m stuck with the inheritance.”
“You could offer to share it with your siblings once it comes to you.”
“Hmm.” Why do
es this sensible suggestion not appeal? The knowledge that they all helped sabotage my wildlife refuge does not sit well with me, any more than it pleased my grandmother. “It’s too early to make any decisions. I hope Grandmother lives for at least ten more years. In the meantime I need to get to know my brothers better, to see if they would use the fortune more responsibly.”
“Oho - you are already speaking as the future matriarch of this family,” Hell teases me.
As I start to reply, a big yawn tells me that I really need my sleep. The effect of Hell’s extra energy has all but dissipated.
“I’ll let you sleep on it,” Hell says, as always alert to my feelings and sensations. “Don’t worry, Melinda, everything will work out somehow. And remember that none of this is your fault.”
He makes a lazy gesture with his index finger, and I find myself enveloped in my favourite blue silk nightie, the makeup washed off, and the taste of my peppermint toothpaste in my mouth.
“I wasn’t that tired,” I protest, but another yawn comes on.
“Sleep well, querida,” Hell murmurs, drops a soft kiss on my lips, and vanishes.
I crawl into the huge soft bed. I never got around to telling Hell about Jacinta’s weird boyfriend and how nervous he made me, but that can keep.
Tomorrow, in daylight, everything will look more manageable. And anyway, in less than two weeks I’ll be back at school. Back with Hell.
At that thought, despite all that has happened today, I fall asleep with a smile on my face.
10 Hell
On New Olympus it was still daylight. Tiny white clouds were slowly passing across the high blue sky. It was subtly different from the sky on earth, more beautiful, and Hell remembered his project to investigate the reasons scientifically. Right now, however, he had more urgent business to see to.
He found Pallas Athena in her library, studying a scroll. She preferred them to books, from old habit, but the cup of coffee she was sipping proved that she did not reject all innovations. “Hello, my dear boy” she greeted him with a smile. “Are you ready to resume your studies with me?”
