Aphrodite the Diva (Goddess Girls)

by Williams, Suzanne

  SAD BOY IN CYPRUS.

  YOURS TRULY,

  PYGMALION

  “So Pyg’s full name is Pygmalion,” said Artemis, pronouncing it “Pig-MAY-lee-yuhn.”

  “And the C is for the island of Cyprus,” said Persephone.

  “Where’s that?” asked Aphrodite.

  “Near Turkey, east of Greece and north of Egypt,” said Athena. “Remember the game board in Hero-ology?”

  Aphrodite shut her eyes, envisioning the game board. She hadn’t paid that much attention to where the countries were, but now she wished she had. She’d never thought a goddess of love and beauty would need geography!

  “The squiggles and lines at the bottom appear to be a map to Pygmalion’s home, as we guessed,” said Hathor.

  “Ha! We figured that out too!” Artemis told her.

  “Why are you so interested in this boy?” Aphrodite demanded. “I’m the one with the Lonely Hearts Club. He was writing to me.”

  “You don’t know that for sure. And you had no right to start such a club without my permission. I’m in charge of all things related to the heart,” said Isis. Although she spoke to Aphrodite, once again her eyes darted to Hathor, almost as if she expected her words to be challenged.

  “Since the letter doesn’t mention either of you by name, neither of you has the greater claim on it,” said Hathor.

  “I’m afraid she’s right,” said Athena.

  “Then we’ll both go to Cyprus and let Pygmalion say which of us his letter was meant for,” said Aphrodite.

  “Deal,” said Isis. “We can travel on Ra’s sunboat.”

  “Excuse me.” Hathor pulled her aside and whispered to her.

  Isis blushed. “Oh, I just remembered that it will take all day for the sun to cross the sky.”

  “We can take my cart,” Aphrodite offered. Even though she didn’t like Isis for challenging her right to the title of goddessgirl of love, for some reason she felt like she needed to stick up for Isis against Hathor. And that was really dumb. Those two were friends!

  “Want us to come with you?” Persephone asked.

  Aphrodite thought for a moment. If her friends came, Isis’s friends would probably insist on coming too. And this conflict was between her and Isis. Besides, her friends deserved to have a vacation. They weren’t the ones doing community service! So she shook her head. “No, you all stay here. See the sights. Have some fun. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “What about our bags?” asked Persephone.

  “And where will we stay?” asked Athena.

  “You’ll stay with us,” Ma-at told them. “In the dorms at school.”

  “It’s semester break here, so you won’t be interfering with classes,” added Bastet. Her voice was a soft purr and her eyes were tilted, like her cat’s.

  “We’re on holiday break too,” Artemis told her.

  As arrangements were made to take her friends’ cases to the dorms, Aphrodite said her farewells.

  As she hugged Athena, she nodded toward Hathor. “Keep an eye on that one. I don’t trust her.”

  Athena nodded. “I don’t think Isis trusts her either.”

  Within minutes Aphrodite had cast her spell on the swans and stowed her bag in the cart. Then she and Isis were sailing over the Mediterranean Sea toward the island of Cyprus. After a few minutes, Isis pointed to a giant sphere in east Cairo that was as tall as a pyramid. “That’s our school.”

  “Why is it round?”

  Isis looked surprised. “It’s built in the shape of our illustrious Ra, of course.”

  Aphrodite stared at her, not understanding.

  “Ra—the sun god,” said Isis. “He’s also our school principal at Ra Academy.”

  “We go to Mount Olympus Academy. It’s on our tallest mountain, high above Greece.”

  “Is your principal named Olympus?”

  Aphrodite shook her head. “No, Zeus. It seems so weird that you don’t know anything about us. Where I come from, everyone knows us. In fact, they worship us.”

  “Then we have that in common,” said Isis. “Everyone in Egypt worships us, too.”

  They smiled at each other, and Aphrodite felt a bond forming between them. Then they both seemed to remember they were rivals. At the same time, they turned their heads to look in opposite directions and spent the rest of the journey in silence.

  5

  Matchmakers

  THE TRIP TO CYPRUS DIDN’T TAKE LONG AND soon they were landing on a bluff overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Once Aphrodite and Isis had hopped out of the cart, it shrank again, and Aphrodite stowed the figurine in her handbag.

  She and Isis unrolled their halves of the letters and put them together so they could study the whole map again. “Looks like Pygmalion’s house is this way,” said Isis, pointing toward a stone path.

  Aphrodite nodded. “Let’s go.”

  As they walked down the path that ran along the edge of the bluff, a gentle breeze teased at their hair and fluttered the hems of their long gowns. Far below, it rippled the waters of the sea where striped dolphins frolicked with whales. The island of Cyprus was beautiful, with rich green grasses, wild orchids, daisies, and other flowers. The girls passed several red foxes and white hedgehogs with long pink ears. She’d have to bring the others back here sometime so they could enjoy all this natural beauty, thought Aphrodite. Persephone would especially love the flowers, and Artemis, the animals.

  “It’s so pretty here,” breathed Isis. “I wish my friends had come.” Aphrodite glanced at her, marveling again at how often they seemed to think alike.

  The path took them to a mailbox that had Pygmalion’s name painted on it. Beyond it they saw a house. Two curly-horned sheep were grazing on its grass roof. Marble and granite statues of mythical monsters were scattered around the front yard, some with arms or heads that spun around in the wind and others with moving eyeballs or heads that bobbled. Although they were weird, they were beautifully crafted. Yet most were half-buried in weeds and vines that had grown up around them and had birds nesting in them. Beyond the house was a rock quarry.

  “He lives by a rock quarry and makes weird yard art?” said Isis, eyeing a bizarre statue that appeared to be half spinning eagle and half bouncing boar. “What kind of boy does that?”

  “He’s a sculptor,” said Aphrodite. “I guess they need a lot of rock. As for the weird art, I guess we’ll find out.” When they reached the front door, she pulled the cord to ring the little bell attached to it. Ding-a-ling!

  Isis grinned at her. “Wait till he sees two goddessgirls on his porch!”

  “Yeah, that doesn’t happen to a mortal every day,” said Aphrodite. Quickly, she refreshed her lip gloss and fluffed her long golden hair. Isis brushed her silky hair back over one shoulder and put a hand on her hip. Both posed dramatically, waiting for the door to open so they could be appropriately worshipped.

  When the door finally swung open, an annoyed-looking mortal boy with brown hair and eyes stuck his head out. In one hand, he held a chisel.

  Aphrodite and Isis waited for him to be suitably impressed by their immortal fabulousness.

  But the boy only blinked, then frowned and shook his head. “No, sorry. Go away.” Wham! He slammed the door in their faces.

  Aphrodite and Isis looked at each other in surprise. “How dare he!” they said at the same time.

  This time Isis rang the bell. When the boy opened the door, Aphrodite said, “Are you Pyg—I mean, Pygmalion?”

  “Look, I told you,” he said, sounding even more irritated than before. “You can’t model for one of my sculptures. Please stop bothering me!” He slammed the door again.

  After they got over the shock of a mortal boy shutting a door in their faces twice, they burst into laughter. “He thinks we want to model for him?” Isis gasped when she finally managed to get control of herself.

  “Ha ha. Imagine—him, a mere mortal—rejecting goddesses!” said Aphrodite.

  “He must be crazy!
” said Isis.

  For a moment, they were almost like friends, laughing together and rolling their eyes at this silly mortal boy. But before long, Aphrodite again remembered they were competitors. Isis seemed to recall it at the same time and their smiles faded.

  Aphrodite pulled the bell again. “Open up, Pyg!”

  The door swung open. “Listen, I’m not going to tell you again—” Pyg began.

  But this time both goddesses held up their matching halves of his letter. “Did you mail this?” Aphrodite asked.

  Tucking his chisel in his belt, he took both halves of the letter from them, looking surprised. “Yes. Where did you get my letter? And why is it torn?”

  “That’s how it was delivered to us,” said Isis. “We each got half.”

  “And you think that’s my fault?” he said, tapping his sandaled foot impatiently. “Why don’t you complain to the magic winds? I certainly didn’t send it this way.” Balling up the entire letter in one hand, he made a show of aiming and shooting it beyond them. It arced high across the front yard and landed right in the open mouth of a stone dragon. “Score!” he said triumphantly.

  “We didn’t care that it was torn,” Aphrodite told him. “We just want to know which one of us you meant to send it to.”

  “I sent it to the goddess of love,” he said. He lowered his voice confidingly, “Because—you’ll probably find this hard to believe—but I’m having a little trouble in the crush department.”

  Both girls spoke at once, saying, “Well, I’m the goddess of love—” They stopped, glaring at each other. They tried again. “And I can help you with that.” More glaring.

  “Really?” Hope lit Pyg’s face as he looked from one to the other. “Both of you are going to help me?”

  Isis shook her head, her silky hair swaying. “No.”

  “But you said—”

  “You have to choose one of us,” said Aphrodite.

  “How am I supposed to do that? I don’t even know you. For all I know you’re not even goddesses.” His eyes widened nervously. “You could be robbers or beasts in disguise!” With that, he started to shut the door on them again.

  The nerve of the boy! Aphrodite felt like turning him into a piece of yard art for his impertinence. But then she wouldn’t be able to earn the extra credit she needed to improve her Hero-ology grade. “Wait!” she said, slapping her palm on the door to keep it open. Drawing an imaginary circle with her other hand, she quickly showed off her magic, lifting one of his yard sculptures and making it do a fancy series of twirls in the air. Not to be outdone, Isis made it do a final triple-somersault before it settled back down to earth.

  Then both girls looked back at him. “Convinced?” Aphrodite asked.

  “Okay, so you’re goddesses,” he relented.

  Isis nodded. “And we’ve come a long way in answer to your letter.”

  “You are still looking for love, aren’t you?” Aphrodite asked anxiously.

  He blushed. “Well, yeah, sort of.”

  Isis frowned. “What does that mean?”

  Pyg’s eyes shifted evasively. But all he said was, “It means I’ve got work to do. I don’t have time to stand around yammering. I need to get hammering!” He pointed to his chisel meaningfully. “Ha ha ha! Get it? That’s a sculptor’s joke.”

  Good thing he was a sculptor, thought Aphrodite. He’d never make it as a comedian.

  “Come on in if you want,” he told them carelessly. Turning around, he headed back inside the house, leaving them to go or stay as they pleased.

  Isis’s eyes flashed with irritation. Aphrodite knew how she felt. This boy had invited them here, and now he acted like he was doing them a favor to let them help him, instead of the other way around. Of course, there was a little bit of truth to that, Aphrodite had to admit. After all, if she succeeded in helping Pyg, it would help her earn a better grade in Hero-ology. Still, it felt as though Pyg was treating her and Isis like servants instead of goddesses. For that, he deserved to be turned into a toad, or worse. But she didn’t dare. Isis would win the title of goddess of love for sure then. So she just mumbled sarcastically, “Gosh, thanks so much for your hospitality.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, oblivious to her sarcasm. They trailed him down a dim hall with walls that were carved with fantastic serpents, dragons, fairies, nymphs, and Centaurs. Leftover rock chips crunched under their delicate sandals as they walked. Aphrodite sneezed at the rock dust in the air.

  “Is this your work?” asked Isis, gazing around the hallway.

  “Uh-huh,” he said.

  “It’s wonderful,” said Aphrodite, impressed.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I know,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m famous in the art world.”

  No false modesty there, thought Aphrodite. She should have guessed that from his letter—since he’d said he was amazing. What kind of girl was going to want an unfunny, clueless, arrogant boy like him? Quickly, she reminded herself that there was someone for everyone.

  Finally they reached a large room that was obviously his art studio. Sculpting tools were everywhere and sculptures of all sizes and shapes and subjects stood around the room. Drawn by their beauty, she and Isis walked among them. A tall one near the back was draped with a linen sheet. Aphrodite started to lift the drape for a peek, but jumped away when Pyg ran over and hugged it protectively. “No! It’s not finished!” he shrieked.

  And they called her a diva! “Godness, get over yourself,” Aphrodite murmured under her breath. From the corner of her eye, Isis, who’d overheard her, grinned.

  Pyg straightened, looking a little embarrassed at his dramatics. “Sorry. It’s just that I don’t like anyone to see my work until it’s complete.”

  As if to draw their attention away from the mysterious statue, he grabbed two hunks of balsa wood. “Hey! Watch this!” Whittling quickly, he shaped them with lightning-fast cuts and turns of his tools. Within minutes he was finished and handed them each a figurine.

  “Ye gods!” said Aphrodite. He’d made little sculptures of her and Isis exactly as they’d posed to impress him on his porch earlier. Just when she’d decided he was totally hopeless, he’d gone and done something nice. “They’re so lifelike,” she said, smoothing a finger over the image he’d made of her.

  “So real I almost expect them to speak,” Isis added.

  Was she trying to outdo her with compliments? wondered Aphrodite. Just in case, she declared, “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in all of Mount Olympus!”

  Isis frowned at her. “Well, I’ve never seen anything more exquisite in all of Egypt!”

  Pyg waved a hand, brushing their words away. Taking up his chisel again, he began hacking away at a block of peach-colored stone that was sitting on a worktable. “I know my work is perfection, so no need to flatter me. Just tell me—do you think you can help me?”

  “Of course,” Aphrodite told him eagerly. “In fact, I’ve created a quiz for lonely hearts that will help me find you the girl of your dreams.”

  Pyg flicked a hand in the air. “Quiz schmiz. I hate tests. And I don’t have time for that anyway.”

  “But—” Aphrodite protested.

  “I won’t make you take a quiz,” Isis interrupted.

  “I didn’t say you had to take it,” said Aphrodite, not wanting him to choose Isis. After all, she’d only created the quiz because she figured it would speed things up in finding love for her club members. “I can find you the girl of your dreams without it. A Greek girl!” Then she added, “The Greeks are the smartest, most talented, beautiful mortals in the world!”

  “Egyptians are even smarter, more talented, and more beautiful,” Isis insisted. “And we know something about great sculpture, too. Just look at the Sphinx!”

  “That was built out of limestone blocks,” Aphrodite scoffed. “The Greeks created true sculpture, carved from stone. Our Colossus of Rhodes and the new statue of Zeus at Olympia are among the seven ancient wonders of the world!”
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  “Oh, yeah? Well, so is the Great Pyramid,” Isis was quick to say.

  “Whoa!” Pyg held up a hand. “Why are you both trying so hard to impress me?”

  “Because half of your letter was delivered to each of us—” Isis began.

  “But only one of us can be the true goddess of love,” Aphrodite added quickly. “And that’s me.” Her eyes challenged Isis.

  “I don’t think so,” Isis countered ferociously.

  They both swung back to look at him. “So which of us do you choose?” Aphrodite demanded.

  Pyg’s brown eyes sparkled with mischief. “You mean I get to decide which of you is the true goddessgirl of love? Woo-hoo! This is going to be fun!”

  Aphrodite and Isis glanced at each other, worried by the gleam in his eye.

  “Hmm. Let me see. Who should I choose?” Waving the tip of his chisel back and forth between the two of them he chanted, “Genie, meeny, goddess, goo. I think that I’ll choose . . . both of you!”

  “Huh?” Aphrodite and Isis exclaimed at the same time.

  Pyg grinned at them in excitement. “We’ll make it a contest to see who gets to be the one and only true goddess of love. Won’t that be a hoot? Whoever brings me the girl of my dreams wins. Agreed?”

  Aphrodite scowled at him, but what could she do? Win the contest, that’s what! “Agreed,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.

  “I’m in,” said Isis.

  “Okey dokey, then,” said Pyg. “I’ve got work to do. And so do you! So let’s all get cracking.” With that, he ushered them back through his house toward his front door. “How long do you think it’ll take you to find my new crush?” he asked on the way.

  “Maybe two m—” Isis began.

  “Two minutes would be fantastic,” he said, pleased.

  Isis raised her brows. “I was going to say two months!”

  Pyg shook his head. “Nuh-uh. Way too long. How about two hours? Deal?”

  “You’re joking, right?” said Aphrodite. She really was itching to turn him into a toad. Or maybe smite him. Or both.

  “Two weeks?” Isis countered.

  “Okay, two days it is,” said Pyg, opening the front door for them.