Finding Cupid

by Daisy Dexter Dobbs

  “At his side sits Juno, queen of the gods. Goddess of women and fertility. Protectress of the Roman laws. Sister to Jupiter, Neptune and Pluto. Daughter of Saturn. Mother of Juventas, Mars and Vulcan.” She raised her hand, nodded and again the room erupted in cheers.

  Mercury gestured to the next throne. “Minerva, daughter of Jupiter and Metis. Goddess of wisdom, learning, art crafts and industry. Virgin goddess of warriors, poetry and medicine. Inventor of music. At birth she sprang fully armed from the brain of her father.” Minerva gave a queenly wave and the audience applauded.

  “Please,” Mercury said, raising his hand. “From this point forward, I will ask you to hold your cheers and applause until I have finished introducing all the gods.” He waited a moment until the gathering stilled and then went on.

  “Here sits Vesta, goddess of hearth and home. In her temple the sacred flame burns eternal, maintained by the Vestal Virgins. To her side is Ceres, goddess of the earth, growing plants and of motherly love. Protectress of women, motherhood and marriage. Next is Diana, goddess of the hunt. Fertility goddess. Moon goddess. Goddess of nature, childbirth, forests, animals, mountains, woods and women.”

  Each goddess nodded or raised her hand as she was mentioned.

  “Venus, goddess of love and beauty, daughter of Jupiter and mother of Cupid sits here,” Mercury said, gesturing.

  “And here sits Mars, god of war. God of spring, growth in nature, agriculture and terror. God of anger, revenge, courage and fertility. Protector of cattle. Son of Jupiter and Juno. Father to Cupid and to Romulus, founder of Rome. Next to him is Neptune, god of the sea. Supreme dweller of the ocean floor. Brother of Jupiter, Pluto and Juno.”

  Pausing to take a breath, Mercury looked out at the crowd once more.

  “To my left,” Mercury continued, “sits Vulcan, god of blacksmiths, fire and volcanoes. Son of Jupiter and Juno. Manufacturer of art, arms, iron and armor for gods and heroes. Master builder of the thrones you see before you.” He gestured to the full bank of thrones.

  “To my right sits Apollo, god of music and athletics. God of healing who taught man medicine. God of light and truth, who cannot speak a lie. Eternal beardless youth.” As Apollo made grand, sweeping gestures while Mercury exalted his attributes, the crowd ignored Mercury’s edict and cheered.

  Arching a cautionary eyebrow in Apollo’s direction, Mercury continued. “Carrier by chariot of the sun across the sky. Son of Jupiter and Leto. Twin brother of Diana.”

  Re-rolling the scroll, Mercury smiled as he took a seat himself. “And I am Mercury, messenger of the gods. God of travelers, tradesmen, merchants and profit.”

  With the last of the twelve gods introduced, the room erupted in cheers, whistles and applause.

  Mercury struck the table three times with his caduceus. “Let the pleaders come forward so that we may sit in judgment and put forth our rulings.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Dake sucked in a deep breath. “This is it,” he whispered to Lula, Zeb and Cinnamus as the three stood up.

  With Cinnamus in the lead, they marched to the front of the room, standing before the council side by side. Dake fought the urge to fidget as Mercury read the pleas aloud. The damned recitation seemed to go on forever. The council apparently felt the same way because the mighty yawn Neptune roared was infectious. Soon each of them was yawning. It was hard as hell for Dake not to give in to one himself.

  “What say you, Cinnamus,” Jupiter boomed in a deep, formidable voice that echoed off the marble walls of the auditorium, “god of teaching, god of intellectual achievement and education, god of literature and the fine arts—” Jupiter glanced down at the document in his hand. “Etcetera, etcetera,” he added with a dismissive wave.

  “No wonder you know Shakespeare,” Zeb whispered to Cinnamus.

  “Make it short, teacher,” warned Mars. “I’m not in the mood for lengthy dialogue.”

  “Hear, hear,” Neptune chimed in.

  “Esteemed council members,” Cinnamus said with a courtly bow. “I stand before you for the first time in all my days to plead for myself. You all know me. I’ve taught you as well as your children and your children’s children. My life has been full, rich, satisfying and complete with the exception of one key element—a soul mate with whom to share my existence.

  “In the educated, cultured, witty, caring mortal florist, Zebulon Dronyer, I have found my true love at last. I entreat each of you to grant my request to keep my beloved Zebulon,” Cinnamus glanced at Zeb then, clasping his hand, “at my side evermore.”

  “Is it your wish to remain here on Olympus with this mortal?” Juno asked.

  Cinnamus glanced at Zebulon who nodded. “It is,” he answered.

  “Mortal,” Venus said, addressing Zeb, “what makes you think for even a moment that you would integrate well with Olympians?”

  Zeb stood proud, shoulders back and chin elevated. “I was born to live on Olympus,” he stated with assurance. A collective gasp could be heard throughout the auditorium.

  “Oh shit,” Dake muttered under his breath.

  “Self-important human,” Vulcan groused quietly as Neptune nodded his concurrence.

  “Is that so, mortal?” Minerva said, looking not at all pleased. “On what, pray tell, do you base this high and mighty assumption?”

  “Indeed it is so,” Zeb replied. “I state this not to be arrogant but, rather, to honestly express to you my heartfelt belief. I’ve spent my entire life studying your history and customs. I believe with all my heart, mind and soul that spending the rest of my life here with Cinnamus is my intended fate. My destiny.”

  “No wonder you fell for him, Cinnamus,” Apollo said with a broad smile. “He’s absolutely precious.”

  “And he has balls,” Mars added with a toothy grin. “I like that in a mortal.”

  The gods whispered among themselves for a few moments. It looked to Dake that Zeb and Cinnamus had won most of them over, but there were a few holdouts.

  “What if we decreed that you could stay together,” Diana asked, “but that you would have to live on Earth. Cinnamus? Zebulon?”

  Zeb and Cinnamus looked at each other and smiled. “While I strongly desire to remain here and continue teaching the residents of Olympus,” Cinnamus said, “I will go anywhere the council deems, as long as it means we can be together.”

  “Thank you.” Zeb smoothed his hand along Cinnamus’ jaw. “My love for Cinnamus is so great,” he told the council, “that I would give him up and remain on Earth alone for the rest of my life rather than to pluck him from this life he loves so dearly.”

  “Well said,” Vesta noted.

  “Beautiful,” Ceres agreed, wiping a tear from her eye.

  “What of his status as a short-lived mortal, Cinnamus?” Juno asked. “How will the two of you cope when your mortal’s body descends into inevitable decay?”

  “I care not that Zebulon will lose his youthful appearance, but I confess it will break my heart to lose him when the time comes for him to journey to the afterlife. It is with this in mind that I humbly request the council consider bestowing the gift of immortality on Zebulon.”

  “The audacity!” Venus gasped.

  “What, besides your obvious affection for him,” Minerva asked, “makes you feel this mortal is worthy of becoming a minor god?”

  “Aside from what Zebulon and I each stated previously, as well as what I included in my written plea,” as he said that, several of the gods scanned their documents, “Zebulon brings exceptional botanical skills and talents to share with our residents. He is a florist of incomparable skill, even to the point of understanding the fine art of communication with flora. With his talents, each of your gardens would be as lush and abundant as mine, perhaps even more.”

  “If we grant your plea, Zebulon,” Jupiter bellowed, “what will you do if it is under the condition that you and your brother may never see each other again?”

  Zeb turned toward Dake, reaching out for his br
other’s hand and clasping it hard. It was all Dake could do at that moment not to tell the bastards sitting up there all righteous-looking in their fancy thrones to go fuck themselves.

  “I honestly don’t know how to answer that,” Zeb said softly, his gaze still locked with Dake’s. “It would be like asking me to tear my heart and soul in half if you asked me to make that choice.”

  “Is it okay if I say something here?” Dake asked.

  “No. It’s not your turn,” Venus said.

  “You may speak,” Jupiter said, overriding the snarky goddess.

  “I love my brother more than anything in this world, except for Lula,” Dake said. “Zeb’s the best, kindest, most deserving, selfless guy I’ve ever known. There’s nobody better and nobody deserves to be with their soul mate more than he does. Yeah, it would kill me if I could never see my brother again, the worst hurt I can imagine. But it’s more important to me that Zeb and Cinnamus are able to be together than any pain I might go through if I lost him.”

  Dake went to stuff his hands into his pockets only to remember he was wearing a damn bed sheet. “Anyway, I wanted you all to know that before you make your decision.”

  “Dakin,” Zeb said, yanking his brother into a fierce hug. “I love you so much.” And then he let out a sob.

  “Dammit, Zeb,” Dake said, squeezing his brother hard and taking a deep breath, “don’t you go and make me cry in front of Lula and all these assholes while I’m standing here in a fucking skirt.”

  Zeb chuckled at that. “Okay,” he said, wiping his eyes quickly as he and Dake ended their embrace.

  “Your brotherly love is very touching,” Juno said with a smile. “Does anyone in attendance have anything to add in support of this plea?”

  Cupid stood in the front row. “I do. I doubt any one of you council members has ever heard even one single complaint about Cinnamus. He’s well liked, respected, a damn fine teacher and an even better friend. I trust his judgment implicitly, and that includes his choice in a life mate. I recommend the council approve his request and grant Zebulon status as a minor god.”

  Cinnamus turned and nodded at his friend. “Thank you.” Cupid winked and took his seat again.

  “We do,” came a chorus of voices from further back in the auditorium. Dake looked behind him to see Lula’s classmates from the chariot sitting together with their hands raised.

  “Speak,” Juno said.

  Maureen, the banshee, stood. “I speak for the entire class,” she boomed.

  “Fine, fine, just keep it down and don’t break into one of your wails, banshee,” Vulcan said.

  “I’ll do my best, sir,” she said. “We all agree that our teacher, Cinnamus, is greatly deserving of having his plea request settled in the most positive manner. Let him and Zebulon live together for all eternity!” She and the rest of the students erupted with cheers, whistles and applause.

  “Silence!” Jupiter said, holding one of his thunderbolts aloft. The eagle at his side squawked. “Is there anyone who can show just cause why Cinnamus and,” he looked down at his document, “Zebulon,” he continued, “should not have this plea granted?”

  The room was silent. “Very well then. I think we have enough evidence with which to make a ruling. Agreed?” he asked the other eleven gods. With their concurrence, he said, “We will hear the plea of the nymph and the other mortal before we retire to chambers to discuss the matters and reach our rulings.

  “What say you, Lula?” Jupiter boomed before glancing at his paperwork again. “Daughter of Arrius and Venuvia,” he continued. “Dryad and Limoniad nymph.”

  Dake and Lula exchanged glances and he smiled, doing his best to impart as much support and love as possible in that single gesture.

  “Thank you, Your Graciousness, for…” she paused when she heard giggles around her. She cleared her throat and continued. “For honoring me, a mere lowly, humble, insignificant, inconsequential, undeserving, unworthy—”

  She stopped when Cinnamus nudged her and shook his head. “Um…thank you for hearing my plea,” she finished with a curtsy. As she lowered her head, a cluster of curls popped loose. “Oh dear,” she said, trying to tuck them back in place only to loosen more ringlets. “I did so want to look sophisticated today.”

  More muffled giggles could be heard.

  If Dake wasn’t so damned nervous and concerned for poor Lula, he would have been laughing himself. “That’s okay, honey,” he said softly, taking Lula’s hand and smiling. “You’re doing just fine.”

  “Oh goodness, I’m so nervous I’ve completely forgotten what I wanted to say. Please excuse me for just a moment.”

  Dake wondered what in the hell Lula was doing when she let go of his hand and snaked her hand inside the top of her gown, fishing around. A few seconds later, she pulled out a folded paper and opened it.

  “Whew!” she said, beaming a smile and waving the paper. “I’m glad I remembered to take this.” She cleared her throat again loudly. “Thank you, Your Graciousness, for honoring me,” she read aloud, “a mere—”

  “We’ve already heard that part,” Neptune grumbled. “Can we get on with it please?”

  “I’m sorry. Yes.” Lula scanned her paper, mumbling aloud as she found her place. “While Dakin Dronyer may be nothing but a lowly, mangy mortal, as Cupid called him,” she began and Dake groaned, “I would like the council to know that he is also a fine, good-hearted and extremely handsome man with exceptional carnal skills.”

  “Well, I’m sold,” Diana quipped.

  Lula frowned when she heard giggles behind her. “Dake is a master electrocutioner,” she continued reading, “who provides customers with the electrocution systems they need for their homes and businesses.” She paused to look up at Dake, Zeb and Cinnamus, who were all chuckling.

  She smiled at them and went on. “Dake is a man who is brave and fearless enough to battle fire-breathing dragons and one-eyed beasts if that is the only way we can remain together.”

  Lula, honey,” Dake said.

  “Yes, Dake?”

  “Can I see that paper of yours?”

  “Of course.” She handed it to Dake.

  He skimmed the paper and grinned. While it would be sure to generate ample laughs, if Lula kept on going, he’d most likely be thrown to the lions and she’d be demoted to the rank of fruit fly before it was all over. He tore the paper two ways and tucked the pieces back between her breasts, kissing the tip of her nose when she gave him that wide-eyed look she did so well.

  “Oh that’s a shame,” Apollo said. “That was the most entertainment I’ve had in a week.”

  “We’re not here for your entertainment,” Diana said.

  “Aw, sis…” Apollo grumbled.

  “I’m Dake Dronyer,” Dake said, addressing the council. “The lowly, mangy mortal Lula was talking about. Look, the reason we’re here is simple. We love each other. Period. I don’t just mean we have the hots for each other, I mean we’re seriously in love and want to spend the rest of our lives together. I’m just an average Earth guy, but I make a good living as an electrician.” He arched an eyebrow at Lula and smiled.

  “I can provide her with a nice little house with a picket fence, a dog, a bunch of kids and everything else that goes along with the American dream. The whole enchilada.”

  “That sounds just like marriage,” Lula said, an adoring look of expectancy on her face.

  “Well, of course it does,” Dake said. “What do you think I’ve been talking about all this time when I was telling you I loved you and wanted to spend my life with you?”

  “Oh Dake!” Lula jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You want to marry me!”

  The audience resounded with awwws, sighs and applause.

  Dake hugged her back before setting her down. “Yeah, but first I’d like for us to get out of this place alive.” He winked at her.

  Dake looked at the council members and shrugged. “That’s about it. End of story. According to the r
ules you guys set up, we’re here to ask you to have a heart and let me and Lula stay together.”

  “You can’t possibly imagine yourself becoming a resident of Olympus,” Venus said, looking down her nose at him. “What could you possibly have in common with Olympians?”

  “Not a whole lot,” Dake readily admitted. “And no, I don’t imagine myself becoming a resident here, so you can stop worrying about that. Lula and I would like to settle down back on Earth where we both feel more comfortable.”

  “What would she do there?” Ceres asked. “She has no real skills other than what she’s learned in Cinnamus’ classes.”

  “Sure she does,” Dake said. “She has a close personal relationship with plants and flowers. We already talked it over and Zeb said if everything works out, he wants to give his flower shop, Cupid’s Headquarters, to Lula. She’d make a damn fine florist. We think the flower shop would make a great permanent meeting place for the students of Cupid Academy when they come to Earth for class assignments. That way no one would get lost trying to find a different location each time.”

  “I don’t know,” Diana said. “I understand Lula’s rather scatterbrained and absentminded.”

  “No kidding,” Venus interjected.

  “What guarantee would we have,” Diana continued, “that she wouldn’t cause embarrassing problems acting as an official representative of the academy?”

  “Oh, I’d be exceedingly careful not to disgrace the fine reputation of the academy,” Lula said, reaching for the crown of laurel leaves that slipped to the floor when she nodded. She parked it back on her head, askew. Dake reached over and nudged it in place.

  “May I?” Cupid asked from the audience, rising to his feet.

  “Of course, son,” Venus said with a warm smile.

  “Cinnamus and I discussed the prospect of Lula maintaining an Earth outpost and contact station for Cupid Academy travelers and we believe it’s an excellent idea. Lula may be a bit, uh…distracted and forgetful every so often, but she’s bright, diligent and completely devoted to the academy. With her mortal partner being more of a linear thinker, Cinnamus and I feel Dakin will be a positive influence on Lula as far as organization and structure goes.”