Frank set about pouring a glass of water for Devon. Devon made herself comfortable on the couch. It was blue with a little white pin-stripe. The strips of blue were dotted with the occasional, staggered red heart. Devon walked her fingers between the hearts. Frank set her water on the coffee table.
“I told my mom,” Frank said, straightening up. “She cried.”
Devon didn't say anything to that.
“I got a job,” he added, “At a car dealership. Mostly just washing cars.”
“Oh.” Devon wrinkled her nose. Manual labor was not for her.
“You know, so I can help take care of the baby.”
“My Dad's not going to let you give us any money.”
“It's my kid,” Frank growled.
“They're not going to let you be around at all.”
“Then I'll use the money to pay a lawyer.”
Devon closed her eyes. She was about ready to burst into a fit of tears and she didn't want him to see it. A custody battle with Frank was not anything she wanted, but she wasn't eighteen until February and she didn't even know what his rights were until then.
Frank had the sense to be quiet and let her calm down. When she opened her eyes, she took a big sip of her water and smoothed the back of her hair.
“Your Dad let you out of the house?”
Devon dabbed at the corners of her eyes to make sure her eyeliner didn't smudge. “He's relaxed a lot since Evan's been around.”
“So you're actually dating him? That wasn't just morons on the internet making things up?”
“It's on the internet?”
Frank nodded.
“Yeah,” Devon said, “I am.”
“And you don't feel the least bit guilty?”
“Why should I?”
“Because,” Frank grunted, reaching forward. Devon was still holding the ultrasound image in her left hand and Frank flicked it, causing it to make a loud noise. “You're only broken up with me because your Dad is a racist culero, and we're having a child.”
“But we're broken up.”
“Technically.”
“Frank, you haven't touched me since you broke my Dad's gun. We're broken up. You took off, and I didn't hear from you outside of the Pantheon for weeks.”
“Maybe I was hoping you'd stick up for me. Did you ever try telling your Dad that I was the virgin before you took me home this winter? Tell Dear Daddy that the scary latino didn't corrupt his daughter?”
“Right, so I can get kicked out of my house.”
“You have shitty parents,” Frank snapped.
Devon didn't argue with him.
“Do you think it's really fair to Evan?” Frank asked, his tone far more calm and quiet than it had been moments before.
Devon just tilted her head, confused.
“That you're here?”
“I'm showing you an ultrasound.”
“Right, and why did you make me meet you at the mall?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“It's not fair to Evan,” he said, “Cheating.”
“I'm not here to cheat on him,” Devon turned her head away.
“Right.”
“I'm not!”
Frank grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. He could have swung her around his head and there was nothing Devon could have done to stop it. He was too strong. “No?”
“Don't flatter yourself,” she spat.
“You're in love with me. Are you in love with him?”
“I'm not in love with anyone, I'm seventeen.”
“You're in love with me,” he said, sounding absolutely sure. Frank bent down, making up the immense difference in their heights, and crushed his lips against hers. Devon's reaction was muddled. She instinctually began to reciprocate, but within half a second her stubborn nature fought back and she pushed him off.
Frank picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Devon feebly slapped his back and shouted at him. “Put me down!” He started carrying her down the hall. “You're barbaric!”
“I thought that was the appeal,” he said.
Frank's bedroom didn't contain much except a beat-up metal writing desk, a bed, and a poster of Michael Oher on his closet door. His hamper, tucked away in the corner, had socks hanging over the side, but the rest of his room was neat, organized, and hidden-away. Devon had been here a few times before. Frank closed the hardwood door and set Devon down on his bed.
“Honestly,” she huffed, “You're a cave man.” Devon stood up. Frank grabbed her again and pulled her tight against him. This time Devon didn't push him away. Her protests had been a superficial fight, just to say she had tried. Really she had wanted this since he'd stormed out of her house that night nearly a month ago. Frank knew Devon too well to be convinced by a few weak insults.
His hands began roughly, but Frank remembered her condition, and he reigned himself in. Devon was surprised. They had usually saved the few tender moments for the minutes just before he would have to sneak out of her room.
Devon emerged from the house two hours later, her mood considerably brighter. Frank, shirtless, poked his head out the front door for one last kiss before she dashed to her little red Beamer. The engine started, and the sudden blast of euro-pop from Devon's radio was enough to drown out the shutter click from around the corner of the hedge next door.
“There is no such thing as a lovers’ oath.”
-Plato
xviii.
When he learned of his wife’s infidelity
and confessed he was powerless to stop it,
he vowed to put a curse on her lineage.
And so he waited.
When, Harmonia, her daughter with Ares,
had grown into a beautiful young woman,
she was betrothed to marry Cadmus of Thebes.
The Smith set to work.
In his forge, Hephaestus crafted a great gift
and presented the girl with a jeweled necklace.
On the gem was placed a curse of disaster
for all who wore it.
“It is absurd to hold that a man ought to be ashamed of being unable to defend himself with his limbs but not of being unable to defend himself with speech and reason, when the use of reason is more distinctive of a human being than the use of his limbs.”
-Aristotle
XVIII.
The photograph was stuck in Evan's mind. He couldn't seem to clear the image away. Frank, shirtless and far more monumental than Evan could ever hope to be, was quite clearly kissing Devon. He had been sent the link to the Discordia article from a message on Facebook. The profile had been registered to a Discordia email address under the name Natalie Portman, who was born in 1876 on The Moon.
Two hours later, with the image still flashing hot in his memory, Evan dismounted his oil-powered bicycle and left it lying on its side next to the inflatable gorilla outside of Blick Luhrmann's dealership.
Frank Guerrero was wearing a shirt now, as he washed the windshield of a 8-cylinder SUV without need for a step-ladder. He was wearing a red polo with the dealership's logo. The shirt couldn't be buttoned to the top because of the girth of Frank's massive neck.
Evan ran off-balance with one leg stiff. Frank turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised in confusion. The chamois on the windshield stopped moving in circles. “Uh, hey Evan.”
“How long has it been going on?” Evan asked, his voice raised.
Frank knew immediately what he meant. He hadn't seen the article, but he could only think of one thing he'd done in the past twenty-four hours that would upset Evan. “Just last night,” he answered honestly. “I assumed she'd call you.” Well now Frank felt bad. Frank had, after-all, been the initiator, even if it was Devon's responsibility to stop him.
“I can't believe...” Evan trailed off, too frustrated to find words.
Frank tugged on his bangs. He sighed. “Evan, I mean, come on, you had to know...�
��
“Had to know she'd cheat on me?”
“We're having a baby, Evan. Did you think you were anything more than... a distraction?”
That stung. Evan had to look up at Frank. He was tall, dark, and powerful. Evan was pasty, scarred, and pathetic. Frank was a warrior; Evan was a maker. He knew it was unrealistic to expect Devon, a girl so driven by passion, to choose him over Frank in the long run.
Still, that didn't mean that he was ready to accept that fact. It was likely the build up of years of bullying and disappointment. Evan unleashed that fury on the nearest source of that frustration. He flew at Frank, fists flailing. Frank saw him spring forward. Not a single blow found him. He read Evan's movement in broken-down time and caught his wrists before he could strike. Frank picked Evan up off the ground by his wrists, holding him at arm's length while Evan kicked and thrashed his legs.
“Stop it!” Frank growled.
Evan froze.
“This is my job. I'm not going to fight you, Fuller.” He set Evan down hard and Evan stumbled. He caught himself on the hood of the car and stood erect. “I need this job, alright? I'm going to be a father. So how about you give it up and go home.”
“Are you even sorry?”
“Devon's probably the one who should be sorry. I didn't do anything wrong,” Frank said with a shrug. He turned back to the car and picked up the wet cloth.
“Bullshit. You knew it would hurt me, but you didn't care.”
“I guess I didn't,” Frank said without looking back.
Evan wiped his nose. He turned and marched back to his bike, his dignity thoroughly shattered.
Devon sat on her bed, staring at the contacts list on her phone. She knew she had to call him before he saw the blog post, but she was afraid of the conversation that would follow.
Her phone rang, startling her and causing her to drop it off the bed. Devon dug it out from underneath and answered it.
“Evan?” she asked.
“So when were you going to tell me?”
“Evan, I was just about to call you.”
“Sure.”
“No, really. I was.”
“You're supposed to break it off before you sleep with another guy.”
“Evan, I'm sorry.”
“I should have never let you in.”
“Evan, I didn't mean to--”
“Don't talk to me again, okay? Just... I'll see you at Pantheon meetings, but don't ever talk to me again.”
The line went silent. Devon sat with her hands in her face. She had felt so blissful about patching things up with Frank, but she had really never meant to hurt Evan. He had been good companionship when she was down; she should have left it at friendship.
She got up and opened the bedroom door and walked straight down the hall to the back of the house. She stormed onto the patio and slammed the back door behind herself. Adam was just coming out into his own yard with a copy of Time magazine in his hands. “Everything alright?” he asked.
“Not really. It'll be okay.”
“Oh...” he stopped at the fence. “Devon, listen, are you guys going to talk to me about what's going on? That dog and then Astin seemingly healing Teddy. I know you know more than you're telling me.”
Devon sighed. She wasn't sure she needed the added stress of this right now, but maybe it was a good distraction from her own guilt. “Come on over here. I'm not having this conversation outside,” she said. “I'll tell you everything.”
“The dice of Zeus always fall luckily.”
-Sophocles
xix.
On the good advice of a craftier God,
Zeus carved a wood avatar of a woman
and dressed her in the finest marriage garments.
He purveyed a lie.
When the villagers would question the wagon,
Zeus would tell them his bride was Plataia
and claim she was the daughter of Asopos.
The joyous news spread.
So when Hera heard this, she was on the scene;
and when she tore the dress to find the dummy,
she was relieved to learn her husband's deceit
and forgave his gaffe.
“Thus every action must be due to one or other of seven causes: chance, nature, compulsion, habit, reasoning, anger, or appetite.”
-Aristotle
XIX.
June Herald lived by a very strict code. She had a set of fairly conservative morals and the only thing that cracked her decorum was ambition. June Herald knew what she wanted and stopped at nothing to get it.
The mix-up with Minnie was an unfortunate setback. Their friendship was likely irreparably damaged. There was nothing for it except time and the apology June was too proud to deliver. That night she had gone home and mulled it over and realized that, despite their past problems, she still wanted Zach. She wanted Zach to realize what he had lost.
It had been so easy to blame everything on him. He had cheated, and there was still no excuse for that. Perhaps, however, there had been warning signs. Perhaps their relationship hadn't been so perfect when he'd thrown it all away. June now realized that she might have been more to blame for the distance between them in those last few months. This revelation still didn't excuse the cheating.
June's moral code would have to waver in the name of vengeance. She had tried to lash out at the wrong person. It was Zach who needed to be sorry. She had spent centuries punishing other women for the things Zach did-- for the things Zeus did.
June took the pins out of her hair and checked her lip gloss in the mirror on the driver's side visor of her car. She took a deep breath and stepped out of her car.
June's summer attire consisted of neat skirts and capris pants. She wore the same kinds of blouses that she wore during the school year, but with short sleeves and without adding layers. Today June had plucked out a teal blouse that had a neckline too low to wear to school, and she had dressed it down with a pair of indigo dress jeans. It was as casual as June got.
She marched up the brick driveway to the Mercer home. Lewis was in his “cave,” a hang out spot he had made in one of the bays of the family two-car garage. The door was half-open to allow the air to move, but keep the sun out. June looked around the street and then ducked under the door. Lewis was sprawled on an old plaid sofa with an X-Box controller in his hands and a headset on. The old tube-television in the garage did poor service to the high-definition graphics on the racing game he was playing.
“Are you sure you've never had kids?” he asked someone he was playing against online, “Because you drive like somebody's grandpa.”
June cleared her throat.
Lewis looked up. He looked back at the TV. He looked back at June and dropped his controller. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk,” she said. June was starting to wonder if she should just turn around and quit while she was ahead.
“Gotta go, man. Peace,” Lewis said as he turned off his headset and his X-Box.
June took a deep breath. All she had to do was picture Zach with any one of the floozies she had ever suspected, and she had her motivation.
“Talk about what?” he said, trying, lazily, to sit up.
June didn't give Lewis much warning. Before he could get up, she had pushed him back down and climbed in his lap.
“What the--?”
June went in for the kiss. Lewis was quick to turn his head and dodge her, but speed wasn't worth much, pinned beneath her.
June's lips were now at his ear. She tried to think of something sexy to say, but June and seduction did not go together. There was a pause, a moment of hesitation before she whispered, “Lewis...” and then came up dry on what to say next. Just his name might have been enticing, but it carried the tone of an opening clause. When nothing came after, it seemed incredibly out of place.
“June, get off me,” Lewis said.
“Come on, Lewis. Haven't you ever wond
ered what it would be like?”
“No! You dated Zach for like... ever and you never let him past second base. What are you doing here?” he managed to wiggle out from under her and stand up.
June was pretty infuriated that Zach had shared details of their intimacy with Lewis, but she figured she should have known. She, too, stood up, more angered at the rejection than anything. “What, are you gay?”
Lewis' eyebrows went up and he just stared at June for a while. He blinked a few times before speaking. “First of all, that's a really offensive question, June,” he said. “Second of all, you've seen me with girls.”
“Right, like that means anything.”
“Whatever you say, June. My sexuality is really none of your business. Just know that it doesn't include you.”
June pulled a cloth-covered hair elastic out of her pocket and busied herself with making a ponytail. She was pretty embarrassed. She stopped when her hair was up and stared at him hard, trying to create that same surge of guilt that had worked on so many others this summer. Lewis stared back. “What?”
Crap, she thought. It figured that neither of her powers worked on members of The Pantheon. “Nevermind.” June turned for the garage door.
“June, seriously, are you going to tell me what this is or am I going to be confused for the rest of the day?”
June looked back at Lewis. She wondered if her dignity could really sink any lower today. “Just, don't tell Zach, please.” She ducked under the half-open bay door and ran back to her car.
“It is one thing to conceive a good plan, and another to execute it.”
-Aesop
xx.
Apollo broke the tree line at the sea shore
and watched as tall Orion dove from the cliff
The Weight of the World Page 14
