Dancing Days

by Val St. Crowe

  * * *

  Dionysus had taken up court in the wine and spirits enclave. He lounged on the grass outside of the tents there, a glass of wine in his hand. He was very drunk. Nora and Owen were sitting close to him, both also drinking wine. Nora’s head was spinning a little, but she couldn’t seem to stop drinking. Unlike the nasty wine they’d drunk to get to Helicon in the first place, this wine was a perfect balance between dry and sweet. It tingled like nectar in her mouth.

  Around the wine and spirits enclave, muses were dancing in the grass barefoot. Some had brought drums and instruments they were playing, although not in any formation around the fire. Others were lying or sitting on the grass, in pairs or groups. Everyone seemed euphoric. Nora could feel it too, an effervescent sort of joy that threatened to burst from her at any second.

  “I should come back to Helicon more often,” Dionysus was saying, gesturing with his wine glass. Liquid sloshed over the rim, getting on his fingers. Dionysus licked them. “Reminds me of the old days. No maenads, though. I do miss the maenads.” He punched Owen on the arm. “Let me tell you, boy, there’s nothing like being in the middle of a maenad sandwich, all that creamy flesh wriggling against you. You should try it sometime. Well, of course, you can’t.” Dionysus looked wistful. “There aren’t any maenads anymore. It’s too bad, really. Maenads were wonderful things. I drove them crazy.” He grinned again. “Literally crazy. They’d rip animals to shreds with their bare hands, run around naked in big groups. It was inspired.”

  Nora kind of thought it sounded gross. She wrinkled up her nose and drank more wine.

  Dionysus was still talking. “These days, there’s not much for someone like me to get into. Oh, people still get drunk, and they go crazy. But it’s not the same, you know. The sacred part of it’s gone. Everyone thinks it’s sort of pedestrian and distasteful. They don’t worship anymore. They don’t approach drinking with reverence. Here in Helicon, though, it’s almost as if the old times never went away.”

  “So where have you been?” said Owen. “I spent eleven years looking for you. Were you in the mundane world?”

  “Mundane... oh, that’s what you call the real world here in Helicon, isn’t it?” said Dionysus. “Zeus’ thunder, boy, I couldn’t tell you where I’ve been for the last eleven years. What’s eleven years, anyway? I could have been any number of places. Probably was. I can’t handle staying in one place for too long, you know.” He nudged Owen, winking. “Papa was a rolling stone.” And then he burst into peals of laughter, clutching his stomach.

  “We used a prayer to you,” said Owen, “to get from the mundane world to Helicon. I thought maybe... you helped us.”

  “Prayer?” said Dionysus. “Someone prayed to me? My heart might explode.” He kissed Owen on the forehead. “Bless you, dear boy, bless you.”

  “So you didn’t help,” said Owen. “It didn’t have anything to do with you at all.”

  Dionysus shrugged. “I guess not.” He took a deep breath. “Ah, Owen, do you remember the times we had when you were small? You were such a chick magnet. There might not be maenads anymore, but there will always be young, hot, drunk women. And you, my boy, were so good at pulling them in. I almost wish you were still that small. You were adorable. Of course, you’ve grown up to be quite handsome. You take after me. Got her eyes, though, more’s the pity.”

  Owen stood up, yanking Nora to her feet. She was surprised. She’d registered the fact that Dionysus was really kind of self-centered, but she was enjoying herself. Was Owen mad again?

  “I remember the times we had,” said Owen. “I remember spending a lot of time by myself, playing little games while you were busy being drunk. It was a great time let me tell you.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone.

  “Oh,” said Dionysus, “you’re angry.” He sighed. “Look, it’s been eons since I spawned any sort of children. Gods don’t seem to impregnate mortals these days. I don’t seem to have the juice. When I found out about you, I thought maybe I’d give it a go. Fatherhood and all that. But, really, it was mostly boring. I can’t be bored, you must understand. I’m not built that way.”

  Owen glared down at his father. “You know, when I was a kid, you were so much better than she was, I got some silly idea in my head that you actually cared about me. Thanks for showing up. I might have kept on believing that.” Pulling Nora along with him, Owen stalked away.

  Dionysus called after them. “It’s not that I don’t care, Owen. Why do you think I brought you here? I knew they’d take better care of you than I could.”

  By the time they got back to the tweens and rebels enclave, Owen was shaking. He stopped at her tent and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Nora pulled Owen into her tent with her. “Don’t be silly. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  He didn’t resist. Instead, he plopped down on the floor of her tent. Catling came out, squawking and rubbing her face against Owen’s knees. He pet her absently. “He’s really horrible. He doesn’t care about anybody except himself.”

  Now that she wasn’t in Dionysus’ presence, the crazy euphoric feeling seemed to have worn off. Nora mostly felt drunk. She swayed on her feet as she tumbled down next to Owen. “He’s a god. I guess they do tend to be self-centered. I’ve never actually met one before.”

  Owen rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m just like him.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I am,” said Owen. “I’m worse. I don’t think about you. I don’t think about what you want. It’s like...it’s like I can’t. Like I don’t know how. All I think about is what I want.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.” Nora took Owen’s hand.

  “No, that’s the thing,” said Owen. “I tricked you. I made you believe that I actually cared about you, but I don’t. Not the way you care about me, anyway. Not... It’s like that part of me isn’t there. Everything’s just pain. All the time. I thought if I could get us back here, it would be better.” He shook his head. “But it’s worse. I don’t belong here. But you do. And you don’t need me anymore. And I feel like the only thing I ever lived for was to get us back to Helicon. Now that I have, I don’t need to exist anymore.”

  “Owen, you’re just depressed,” Nora said. She put her arms around him. “You’re good. You care about me. You always take care of me.”

  “Because I need someone to be nice to me. That’s the only reason.”

  Nora held him close. “Maybe that’s the only reason anyone takes care of anyone else. Maybe we’re all selfish.”

  Owen turned his hauntingly blue eyes on her. “No, I’m different. I’ve known for a long time.”

  “You’re different, but we’re all different,” said Nora.

  “Different in a bad way.” He kissed her. “I used to think you could save me. But now I know nothing can.”

  “Shh. Stop saying things like that.”

  “I’m being honest, Nora. This is the only time I’ve ever been honest with you.”

  “You’re in a bad mood,” she said. “And you need to rest. Stay here, sleep in my tent. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  He did stay, but he refused to sleep in her hammock with her, because he claimed he’d only try to get her to have sex with him. Once he was huddled in blankets on the floor, it was quiet. Nora tried to sleep, tried to think, but because she was drunk, she began to have the sensation that the tent began turning over and over, flipping her stomach inside out, until she ran from the tent and vomited up all the wine she’d drank. When she did finally get to sleep, it was dreamless.