Heaven Sent Page 2

  It’s not that bad, I thought. So we can’t use our powers. It could be worse. Earth is exciting and new and filled with adventures—I’m sure of it. It’ll be great. But then I had another, terrible thought.

  “The Furies are gonna have a field day with this one,” I said to no one in particular. And no one heard me because at that very moment a light flashed so brightly, it blinded us three and we were

  falling

  fast and furious

  plummeting

  into

  a

  pit

  of

  pure

  darkness!

  TWO

  The journey downward could have been more exciting. Sure, it was scary, with quick turns and vertical drops, but frankly, I was just too excited about arriving on earth and exploring the altars in Sparta and hitting this perfumery in Pompeii that’s run by an old gypsy woman to be all that scared. After the first hour or two I got really bored, so as we rushed through the darkness I started making a mental list of all the things I wanted to do on earth. We couldn’t speak at all to one another. The force with which we were careening just made it impossible. But both my sisters were in view the whole journey. The thing of it was, the trip really did seem way too long. A whole day’s worth of hours just wasted. If I’d had time to expect anything, I would have expected a quick ride that took my breath away. The only thing that did that was the hard landing, which not only took my breath but part of my chiffon nightie, too.

  After we’d hit the ground, we all just lay there for a minute, stunned. The ground was hard underneath us.

  “He didn’t even let us grab our clothes.” I turned toward Era’s voice—she was under a tree, slowly sitting up and rubbing her head.

  “Or sneak Pegasus into a bag,” said Polly, who was still lying flat out on the dirt.

  “Hey, but we have each other,” I said a little sarcastically. They both just glared at me. But then I saw Polly crack a smile. Albeit a very, very small one.

  With a jolt I realized that we were actually on earth. I think Polly and Era realized it at the same time, for suddenly they started looking around us, their eyes wide with curiosity.

  It was dark out, but we could see.

  What we saw, we did not know.

  All around us nothing looked familiar.

  By the light of the moon we could see many small buildings, each one neat and tidy and strange looking. A sort of street ran along the grass where we now sat, and it appeared to be hard and wide. Every street I’d ever seen had been made of dirt. That was a little weird.

  Era was the first to stand up. She circled a little bit and stopped in front of a structure of some sort. “This is one odd building, huh, Polly? This must be a part of Greece we’ve never seen. Not even in picture books.”

  Polly just stood there, stunned. I knew something was wrong by the look on her pale, moon-shaped face. And not only that; I knew it in my bones. Everything just seemed a little…off.

  “Look, there is a message,” Polly said, walking toward the door of the structure. She grabbed a crusty, yellowed paper scroll off the door and shook it. It rolled out, longer than Polly’s glorious hair, longer than my longest gown. Down it fell, hitting the ground and rolling halfway down the walk.

  “Oh, there is too much there to read,” Era said absently, watching some small animal hop off into the woods. “What is that pretty little creature?” Era promptly chased after the animal.

  Polly shot an annoyed glance in Era’s direction. “This is just great—I’m stuck on earth with my laziest sister and my silliest sister. Such luck.”

  I guessed that I was the silly one. But that’s not such a bad -est to be given. I could think of worse…stupidest, boringest, scaredyest. I looked over Polly’s shoulder. Really, the letter on it wasn’t all that long—certainly not long enough to warrant such a long scroll. It was probably just a way of making the letter look bigger and more important than it really was. The gods are pretty melodramatic about stuff like that.

  Polly read from the scroll: “‘Hear ye, hear ye.’ Oh, it’s from Hermes. * It says, ‘Welcome, girls. This is your new home. Your father, the great and powerful Zeus, was not exactly up to snuff, um, today. He has accidentally sent you three girls to Athens…Georgia.’”

  “Georgia! Where is that? In the Balkans? Near Crete? Where?” Era hollered, panting as she walked back from chasing critters. She had all sorts of twigs and leaves stuck in her long, blond curls.

  “I don’t know,” I said. And I was good at geography.

  “It says here it’s in the United States. There’s a map. Let me read on: ‘There has been another slight mishap. Zeus has propelled you, quite accidentally, into the future. Look around: This, dear girls, is Athens, Georgia, 2002.’”

  Polly’s face went white.

  “Whoa,” was all I could say. Daddy’s powers were definitely shot. Spent. Done.

  “How could he, where could he, why, how?” mumbled Era. “Huh?”

  Polly sat down on the stairs that led up to the door, dropping the scroll into her lap. “Okay,” she said. “That is perfectly fine. We can handle this. So it’s not quite the earth we know. So we’re in the future and there’s no way to tell what kind of monsters there are here, or how things work, or whether people are cannibals now. That’s okay. It can’t…be…all that…” Then my sister started to sob. “Oh, Father. As if this wasn’t bad enough already!”

  “Now, maybe this isn’t so bad,” I wondered aloud, sitting down next to Polly and rubbing her back. “I mean, we don’t know what the future is like. Maybe it’s all leprechauns and roses. Maybe it’s an adventure every day. Maybe it’s space age.” Space age has been one of my favorite phrases ever since I heard it from a soothsayer on Olympus.

  “Your inconceivable enthusiasm is starting to really wear me down, Thalia,” Polly spat out, wiping at her eyes with the hem of her nightie. “Can you put a lid on the Aurora* act? This is treacherous, abominable, and all your fault.”

  “Excuse me,” I said, pulling my hand away from her. “Let’s not get in the blame game, okay? I do recall your being present before, during, and after the, um, disaster. I do remember your suggesting the spell in the first place; I seem to recall—”

  “Please, stop! My head hurts,” Era cut in, her voice trembling. “Please stop being mean to each other. Polly, why don’t you just keep reading Hermes’s letter, please?” Era looked at Polly and me with big, sweet, doleful eyes.

  Even though she’s just a little younger than me and only a year younger than Polly, it’s hard to keep from treating Era like the baby of the family. For some reason, it’s just impossible to see her unhappy. It’s just that, I dunno, she’s so innocent and sweet and loving, and she has the ability to make me feel guilty like no one else.

  “Yes, okay, all right,” Polly said, clearing her throat. “‘This structure of reasonable size and fashion is to be your home while you reside in Athens.’”

  “Georgia!” I called out, but no one thought it all that funny. Polly read on.

  “‘Inside you will find comfortable bedrooms, styled to the modern tastes of the time. There is a kitchen. In case you girls do not know what that is, I shall tell you. It is where you will cook things.’”

  “Cook things? Cook things! I will not cook a thing. That is not the concern of a goddess,” stated Era. Polly ignored her and read on.

  “‘Hera has disallowed you any ladies-in-waiting and servants. I’m afraid to tell you that you will have to provide food for yourselves. As well as do the washing, cleaning, shopping, and dressing.’” Era’s face scrunched up in disbelief. “‘But don’t fear. Many of these tasks have been simplified since ancient times. There is something called electricity that will enable you to wash dishes and clothes using a machine and create bright light and warmth without using a fire. You’ll find switches and knobs all over the house that will let you control these various devices.’”

  “Hey, why don’t we go
inside?” I suggested eagerly. “We can finish reading the letter in there.” I nodded toward the door. I knew I should be concentrating on Hermes’s words, but I just couldn’t wait to see our house and all the cool stuff in there.

  Polly sent me the don’t-be-so-optimistic glare. Still, we all went inside.

  Inside. Inside our new home. It wasn’t so bad. There was this furlike stuff on the ground. Almost like grass but not as cool to the touch. And the walls were a marvelous blue color, more the shade of Era’s eyes, a deep and hazy grayish blue. Fluffy seats curved around a black box that looked like a shiny ebony rock from deep in the ocean, only it was almost perfectly square.

  Polly sat down by the fireplace. I knew what that was. Although I had no knowledge of how to actually build a fire. Era sat in one of the big chairs. Neither of my sisters even looked around. It was like, if they didn’t look and see any of this, maybe it would cease to exist. Polly continued to read, and I forced myself to sit down at the kitchen table to listen. “‘Please, girls, follow Hera’s rules—do not let anyone know you are goddesses, and please, do not use your powers.’”

  Polly took a break from reading this wretched news to point a wretched finger. “Well, we all know Thalia will not be following that rule, don’t we?”

  “What is that supposed to mean, Polly?”

  “If you can’t get what you want, you simply use your powers with no thought or care for anyone else.”

  “That is not fair!” I exclaimed. “Are you having a memory lapse, dear sister? Because you seem to forget that if you hadn’t used your powers back in Olympus, we wouldn’t be here now. It took all three of us to get us here!”

  “Oh, my head!” cried Era, rather dramatically, I might add. Polly continued reading.

  “‘There is one more rule that Hera did not heretofore mention. And it is extremely important. As you are the human equivalent of teenagers, you must now go to high school every day. If you fail to do so, Zeus will be forced to reconsider your punishment, as the whole point of your life on earth will be to work hard at improving yourselves. Here is a map telling you how to get to school.’”

  “Whoa, what does that mean—reconsider our punishment? And when did this become, like, work?” I asked. It had never occurred to me we’d have to go to a school, like mortals. We were Muses, goddesses—what did we possibly need to learn? And besides, weren’t only boys supposed to go to school?

  I looked over at Polly. She had a curious expression on her face. At first I didn’t know what it meant. But it looked a little to me like delight. She had turned a pink punch color, and she had a twinkle in her eye.

  Even Era looked a tiny bit more hopeful. “So we’ll get to continue learning dance and song like before?”

  “I think mortal school is different from that, Era,” Polly said slowly. “I think you learn all sorts of things, like poetry and philosophy and science.” The corners of her mouth turned up into a tiny smile as she said this. “At least, that is the way it was in Greece.”

  Era slumped farther into her chair and let out a breath. “Oh, great,” she murmured.

  “Yeah, great,” I repeated, thinking of how horrible it would be to be stuck at school all day when I could be out exploring the world.

  Polly shot Era a glaring look, turned to me, sent piercing arrows of hatred toward my heart (or at least it felt like that), and then read on:

  “‘Zeus, unbeknownst to Hera, asked me to unearth a few of modern life’s ins and outs for you, his beloved daughters. So I have conducted some research by watching some fine TV (that’s that black box in front of the chairs. It’s magical!) and have compiled it into a top-ten list (they’re very popular here).

  10. You must get milk.

  9. If you get in an accident, call 1-800-THE LAW 2. Use the phone. It’s that hard thing with numbers and the curly wire. It sometimes makes a ringing noise, and when it does, you should pick it up.

  8. If you have large thighs, it is important to hide them with vertical stripes.

  7. See yourself in Feria.

  6. Earth, too, has eternity, but apparently here, anybody can have it, not just gods, and supposedly it smells quite nice.

  5. If you can’t find it at the mall stores (where you buy things), then surely you can find it on-line (not sure where that store is, but maybe you can ask someone).

  4. I suggest giving a woman named Cindy Crawford a call. She seems to know a lot about everything.

  3. If you can’t find her, then try calling someone who goes by the name Oprah. And besides, it’s fun to say her name: Oh-prah! Oh-prah!

  2. The true test of a perfect bra is how it makes you feel.

  1. For everything else, there’s MasterCard.

  “Oh, this is rich. Hermes* as an arbiter of all things cool? Puh-lease!” I said.

  “‘The last item is important. I have procured you a MasterCard. This is how one acquires goods here (they don’t barter with animals and jewels). You simply show this plastic card and voilà! People will give you the things you need. You’ll also notice a stack of green slips of paper under the kitchen sink (the basin with knobs that squirt out water). This is cash money—another way of paying for goods. Always make sure to have some on hand.

  “‘Now, I must finish this directive, for Hera has summoned me so that I may announce to the kingdom, heavens and earth, that you dear girls have been turned into horrifically disfigured monsteresses and been tossed into the future. This, I am afraid, is how she gets her kicks. Good luck. Please, girls, I beg of you to follow the rules Hera has proclaimed. I do so hope to see you three again, eventually, one day. Although with Thalia there, I must admit that I’m highly doubtful. With great love, Hermes.’”

  I scowled at Hermes’s last comment. It didn’t sound like he had tons of faith in us. Or me, in particular.

  Era curled into a ball in her big, oversized chair, hugging her knees. The look on her face was something one notch shy of pure, unadulterated fright. The sort little children get when they can’t find their parents but before they have a chance to let out a deep and painful wail. I waited for her wail. But it didn’t come.

  Polly just looked exhausted. Pained and exhausted. None of us said anything for probably ten whole minutes. We just sat there in silence.

  Then the wail. Era let out this cry, this loud, quivering cry: “I doooonn’t want to go to schoooooooll! It’s work—it’s not fun; I want to go to the Beautorium and I want to eat pretty little sandwiches with handsome young men and I want to dance and sing and play with my good sisters. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you…Thalia!”

  “Look, it’s not going to do you any good to blame me or Polly….”

  “Oh, I don’t blame Polly. I blame you! We wouldn’t be in this mess if you had just succumbed to how you really feel about Apollo. He loved you, Thalia, with all his soul, and now look at us. What will become of us?”

  Yep, that hurt. “Oh, okay, fine. It’s not going to do you any good to blame me.” I paused for dramatic effect before launching into my soon-to-be incredibly inspirational speech. “C’mon, girls, this can be like a game. We can ride dragons and play with the fairies. So we’ll have to go to school in between.” Polly’s mouth hardened into a straight, angry line. “It won’t be long before we get to return home. Look how selfless I am acting right now, giving you this great pep talk. We’re halfway there—I’ll prove that I can put others before myself in no time. C’mon, let’s enjoy the adventure.”

  “I don’t want to go on any adventures, Thalia,” Polly said quietly. “Maybe some of these things sound interesting and new and different. But I simply don’t care. I want my old life back. My beautiful serene life. The one where I woke up to a choir of blackbirds every morning, singing just for me. Then Lady Josephine would bring me a large bowl of ambrosia. Who’s going to bring me a large bowl of ambrosia here?”

  But she didn’t wait for an answer. Not that I was going to offer to give her one. Sure, maybe they had gotten themselves into t
his for my sake, but they had offered to help, right?

  Polly continued. “And then she would lay out one of my twenty finest silk gowns, unless of course it was Tuesday, in which case she would lay out one of my velveteen pantsuits so I could take Pegasus for a ride through the heavens. After I dressed, she would bring me my jeweled crown because I couldn’t go out without my jeweled crown. When she placed it on my head each morning, she would say, ‘Oh, goddess, high priestess of the heavens, woman of the world, I bow in your presence, for you are a supreme being worthy of any woman’s idolatry and any man’s love.’”

  “Yeah, but didn’t all that bowing and supreme-being stuff make you uncomfortable?” I asked, but Polly kept going as if I hadn’t said a thing.

  “And then she would escort me down those long, gilded stairs, how I miss those stairs, and then I would meet up with Clio and Calliope and we would play the harp together for hours….”

  “And…then,” continued Era, “I would meet up with you after my fabulous morning at the Beautorium, and we would all dance through the gardens on our tippiest toes, twirling and singing and twirling some more. And Pegasus would lie beside us, watching our every move. And occasionally we would see some boy, a god or even one of the servants, stealing glances at us from behind the large honeysuckle tree.”

  “Boys?” I said. “It all goes back to boys, doesn’t it? Don’t you think of anything else?”

  But that just set them off. Both of them. Their idle dreaming turned into pointed rage, pointed squarely at me.

  I couldn’t understand either one of them—they were both screaming and yelling at me at the same time. I heard words like beastly and selfish and scolly wog (I don’t know what that means, either). And then each of them stood up and stormed away, stomping through two separate doors, neither of which we had yet explored, and slamming them simultaneously, hard.