Heaven Sent Read online

  Polly can’t resist doing as she is told. She rushed off to literature, alone.

  Mrs. Haze then turned to Era and me. “Now, you two have your first class together. Biology with Mr. Zeitland.” Era turned to me and beamed. “Come this way—I will take you there.” We followed Mrs. Haze down the hall and passed what we could only assume was the aforementioned cafeteria. The smells of food wafted outside and into the hall. It wasn’t ambrosia, but it did smell edible.

  “Please, we must stop here and eat,” Era begged.

  “Sorry, no can do, they aren’t finished cooking for another two hours. Gosh, you really are a hungry little thing, aren’t you?” She looked at Era sympathetically. “Okay, let’s stop in my office. I’ve got a candy bar in my desk you can have. It isn’t all that nutritious, but it’s something to put in your belly.”

  We stopped in Mrs. Haze’s office, and she pulled out a small, shiny brown log with writing on it. Era grabbed it and bit right into it without even offering me any. “Dear girl, you have to take the wrapper off first; where did you three come from, anyway? Don’t they have candy bars there?”

  “No, ma’am. No candy bars in, um, Europe.”

  “Hmmm.” Mrs. Haze gave us a dubious once-over.

  “This is sooooo delicious; it’s so sweet,” cooed Era as she gobbled the last bite.

  I didn’t need any, anyway.

  Mrs. Haze then took us to our classroom. We walked into dead silence. Every eye in the room was fixated squarely on us. Mrs. Haze whispered something to the teacher, Mr. Zeitland, and then everyone in the room started whispering.

  “Class, please welcome Nova High’s new exchange students, Era and Thalia Moose. Girls, would you like to tell us something about yourselves, like where you’re from, or your hobbies?”

  We just stood there, looking at each other. “Um, Europe,” I said, taking my cue from Era, which probably wasn’t my smoothest move. Everyone laughed.

  “Europe, okay, where in Europe?” asked the teacher.

  “Uh, Greece,” I said.

  “May we sit down now?” Era asked. “My feet are killing me.”

  Everyone laughed again, and Era smiled and curtsied. She loved having every eye on her. She loved being the center of attention. I didn’t really mind it, either.

  “Sure, go ahead and take those two empty seats on the right.”

  My heart started to race, in a good way. Everyone looked so, well, different and exotic and beautiful. Not beautiful like my sisters and some of the other goddesses, but more like incredible paintings or unusual plants. Beautiful because they looked so unique.

  All eyes seemed to be watching our every move as we sat down. Era was moving very self-consciously, positioning herself perfectly in the stiff wooden chair, fluttering her eyelashes and thrusting her chin out proudly. I wondered if I looked as nervous and excited as she did.

  “Class, please be still,” said the teacher. “I need to talk to Mrs. Haze outside for a moment, so just be patient and quiet—I’ll be back in a flash.”

  They left the room, and everyone started to chat. The back row of the classroom was lined with pretty, perky, perfect girls. Three of the girls were huddled together whispering, and for a second my eyes met with one of the three as she slipped a folded piece of paper to the other two. Then they all smiled these Cheshire, mile-wide grins my way. For some reason, the looks in their eyes gave me the chills, and it took a huge effort to smile back with the same kind of smug, fake expression that they were flashing me.

  “Wow, look at all the handsome young men.” Era giggled.

  “Oh, please,” I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “Those girls in the back—have you noticed, they’re just staring at us?”

  “Everyone is staring at us. Everyone,” Era crooned happily.

  And she was right. At that moment Mr. Zeitland came back into the room, and everyone quieted down.

  “Okay, where were we? Yes, so now we were talking about the various species of native American tree frogs. Who can tell me what the common name for the Phylomedusa bicolor is?”

  “Monkey tree frogs!” I shouted.

  The class laughed again. A lot.

  “That’s right—very good, Thalia. Say, what do we say next time, if you know the answer, you raise your hand. Then I will call on you for the answer. Okay?”

  I raised my hand. Mr. Zeitland looked at me funny and said, “Yes, Thalia?”

  “Okay,” I answered.

  “Don’t be a smart-ass,” he muttered, and then he went on to lecture, dryly I might add, about frog gizzards. I felt a little bit hurt by that comment, but whatever. I didn’t see the problem—I’d known the answer, after all. Isn’t that what school is all about? Anyway, I could already tell I’d prefer to socialize and people watch than pay attention to frog talk. Maybe this place could be my adventure after all. The kids were all so wild looking. They didn’t look anything like my sisters or me. Sure, they had eyes, a nose, a mouth, hair, and all that jazz, but they looked so, so cool. Even the girls in the back looked cool, although they didn’t act it—they just whispered through the whole lecture. Sure, the lecture was boring, but that was just plain rude. Something told me these girls took pride in being rude.

  “Thalia?”

  “What?” I asked. It was Mr. Zeitland. “Do you know the answer to this one?”

  “Can you repeat the question?”

  “What is the milky white substance that releases from the glands of the giant toad?”

  I raised my hand. “Yes, Thalia?” he said dryly.

  “Bufotoxin. And it’s often poisonous, or at the very least causes irritations in humans,” I said.

  Mr. Zeitland looked a little stunned. “That is correct.”

  Bufotoxin is a very popular ingredient in goddess spells. You can wreak all sorts of human havoc with just one giant toad, a winter white peach, and a snippet of Amazon hair.

  It felt good to be smart in front of all these people. Although Polly, Era, and I are pretty young compared to most gods, we’ve still been around for thousands of years in human terms. Long enough to learn some stuff. Okay, a lot of stuff.

  A girl with purple hair (purple hair!) looked my way and gave me the kind of smile that simply said, “Cool.” Very unlike the kind of smiles the girls in the back row were flashing me now. Their smiles simply said, “Witch.” But I decided to just ignore them.

  A bell rang, and everyone got up and pushed their way out the door, despite the fact that Mr. Zeitland was still in midsentence. The girl with the purple hair came over to us. “Hey, I’m Claire. Thalia, right?”

  “Yeah, nice to meet you. This is my sister Era,” I said.

  “So, like, what class you got next?” Era and I looked at our schedules that Mrs. Haze had given us before she left. “Geometry,” I said.

  “Cool,” said Claire, “follow me.” And we did. As we walked into the hall we saw the three icy back-row girls leaning up against a row of lockers, just staring us down. The tallest one, with dark, curly hair looked at me and said, “Hey, you’re really smart.” Era smiled, but I just kept silent. “How do you know so much about frogs? Is that what you used to eat in, um, Europe?” All the people standing around the lockers started to laugh. Maybe these people weren’t so cool after all.

  “Yeah. We eat them all the time. I guess it’s kinda gross,” I said, looking at the beefy guy standing next to her, his arm looped around her shoulders and a slimy grin on his face, “but at least they’re not as slimy as that guy.” My new purple-haired pal Claire giggled, and I grinned at my own witty comeback. I’d had a lot of practice trading insults back home, with girls who were far smarter and craftier than these three. I lifted my chin as Claire, Era, and I strutted away in cool silence. That is, until Era whined, “I want another candy bar!”

  FIVE

  Era and I had our morning classes together, but by the afternoon we were separated. Neither of us ran into Polly all day, so when we all met after school on the front st
eps, I was thrilled to see her. And she seemed genuinely happy to see us.

  “I talked with a girl today who told me we can get food from this market that’s only two blocks from our house. Let’s stop there on the way home,” said Polly, her eyes sparkling just a little.

  “Well, Claire, our new friend who has purple hair, she says the best food is from this little place called Weaver D’s,” I sang happily. “And get this—they make it for you. We don’t have to cook. We won’t starve after all!”

  “I like the food here at school,” said Era. “Polly, I ate three of those candy bars, two little bags of potato chips, and this long sandwich someone called a hot dog. At first I was horrified, but it’s not really a dog,” Era added. “Anyway, I’m still hungry.”

  “Let’s just try the market,” said Polly.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Well”—she paused, wrinkling her freckly nose—“I think we should be learning while we’re here. You’re the one who wanted adventures, Thalia. Cooking could be an adventure. Why don’t we cook tonight and try your Weaver D’s place tomorrow? Okay?”

  “I guess. Claire says all the cool kids go to Weaver D’s. But fine.” We walked to the store, Era hobbling barefoot two steps behind us. The shoes had finally gotten to her.

  “Hey, guys, wait up,” she said, sitting down on a rock and rubbing her feet. “I have to take care of this—my toes are killing me.” And with that, she started wriggling her nose.

  “Era!” Polly yelled, jumping forward and covering Era’s nose. “I told you, no powers! Do you want to get us into more trouble than we’re already in?”

  “Oh,” Era said sheepishly, standing up slowly. “Sorry, I forgot.”

  We continued walking. “So, Polly, was your day as grand as ours?” I asked.

  “It wasn’t so bad.”

  Then all of the feelings I’d felt all day just started spewing out of me in one huge breath: “Well, I met so many new people, and they were all so exciting. Like Claire, she has purple hair and all sorts of jewelry, but way better than Hera’s gaudy stones. She’s just very modern and wacky and, well, she tells it like it is and she’s so nice. I mean, she shared her lunch with Era and me today and, well, it was delicious. And I know Olympus is home and all, but I think this could really be a fun adventure, and while I know you don’t like all that adventure talk, don’t you think this could be splendid?”

  “It’s not exactly supposed to be a vacation. We should be working on our tasks, you know, our punishment…” said Polly, all adultlike. “But I don’t know—maybe it won’t be terrible.”

  “I love it here!” yelled Era, several feet behind us now. “There are so many new boys here I’ve never met. My goodness, they are heavenly! I knew all the boys back home already, and frankly, I was tired of them.”

  “Boys, boys, boys. Do you ever think of anything besides boys?” I snapped. I didn’t mean to yell at Era, but boys weren’t exactly my favorite subject these days. Boys were the last thing on my mind. Or at least they should have been. Well, one boy in particular should have been. Still, I’d been thinking about Apollo all day, especially during my debate class. It was just that he was the best sparring partner I’d ever had. If I said that Neptune had a cool beard, he could go on endlessly, rapturously about how Neptune actually had no beard at all and in fact had never had a beard, much less a cool one. And in the end, I swear, I would’ve believed anything he said.

  Suddenly I noticed that Polly was giggling. That snapped me back into reality—my serious-and-deeply-troubled-by-our-new-life sister was giggling. Obviously she’d had a better day than she’d let on. “What’s up with you?” I asked, taking a closer look at her.

  “Nothing. I just like school, that’s all. You know, the books and stuff.” The light sprinkling of freckles on her nose stood out against her pale, flawless skin. She looked practically radiant.

  “Yeah, I know,” I mumbled, but I didn’t. I mean, I liked learning, I guess. Really I liked knowing the answers. I liked being smart. And I’m sure Polly did, too. But she seemed happier than the kind of happy one gets over books. You know how book happy is an inner, private happy that makes you feel warm, cozy, and smart? Well, Polly seemed to be carrying around a whole boatload of happy on the outside. But, I told myself, Polly has a mind all her own. Who knows what’s going on inside her head?

  Two guys in a fancy red chariot slowed down in front of us to scream: “Era! Era! Meet us at the Varsity!”

  “Who was that?” asked Polly, shocked.

  “Some boys I met today in Latin. Cute, huh?”

  “I couldn’t tell,” Polly said. “What’s the Varsity?”

  “It’s another one of those places that makes food for you,” I said, because I knew. Claire had told me all the hot spots for people watching and good food that you don’t have to cook yourself.

  “Well, then, let’s go there,” said Era. In case you haven’t guessed, boys and food are Era’s two favorite things. “Please, let’s go there, please.”

  “Tomorrow. Today we’re trying the market,” Polly said sternly.

  “You said tomorrow we could go to Weaver D’s,” I cried.

  “Fine, tomorrow Weaver D’s, the day after we will go to the Varsity!”

  “How come you are dictating what we do?” asked Era.

  “Because you, my dear sister, are the youngest, and Thalia, well, Thalia is the most irresponsible of us three and, face it, prone to flights of fancy. Had I taken charge back on Olympus, really taken hold of the reins myself, I dare say we wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “Are you really sure I’m more irresponsible than Era?” I asked, smiling at Era.

  “Pretty sure,” said Polly.

  “Thanks, I guess,” said Era.

  And for some reason, we all just started laughing. That silly sister laugh that comes from knowing one another too well.

  Outside the store a few minutes later, we watched an older humpbacked woman grab a metal pushcart and wheel it inside, so Polly did the same. “I’ll assume you fill this up with food?” she asked, but neither of us answered. Like we knew.

  The inside of the market was dizzying. I had never before seen so much stuff. Even Daddy’s cook’s kitchen didn’t have one-seventieth this much food. At least I thought it was food. Frankly, outside of the fruits and vegetables, it all looked foreign and inedible to me.

  Polly took charge. “Okay, let’s start with what we know. Apples, oranges, pears, plums. Oh, there is grapefruit over there. Grab a few of those, Era, would you?”

  “Look,” I said. “They got carrots. How do you think we cook ’em?”

  “I don’t know. We will just put them in a pot and cook them. I’m sure it will be delicious. Grab a bunch.”

  Onward we pushed to an aisle labeled Breakfast. There were boxes and boxes lining the shelves, each one with a different picture on it. Era loved these boxes. She wanted four or five. None of us had any idea how they would taste. But more important, Polly didn’t know how to cook them, and I surely didn’t. That’s when Era marched up to a handsome young man and asked, “Sir, excuse me, how does one cook this?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” he asked back.

  “No, why, is that funny?”

  “Is this some sort of high school prank?” he asked her again.

  “I don’t think so, and why are we talking in questions?” she asked. “I’m not from Georgia, and we don’t have these boxes where I am from. Is it hard to cook?”

  He laughed. Like out loud and from the gut. “You don’t cook it. You pour it in a bowl, you pour some milk over it, and you eat it. Voilà,” and with that he turned and pushed his cart in the opposite direction, laughing.

  Era was thrilled. “Yippee! No cooking! Let’s get lots of these boxes. And then we must find the milk. Hooray, I will not starve! I will eat Fruity O’s and Choco-Stars.”

  Polly wasn’t sure we could survive on cereal alone, so we pushed on.

  We picked up some
hard, frozen boxes in the aisle marked Frozen Food. And we loaded up on colorful cans and more boxes in another aisle, marked Ethnic Foods. All the boxes had pretty pictures on them, and—luckily—what appeared to be directions on how to cook them.

  Polly and Era seemed very happy with themselves, but I wasn’t satisfied yet. We’d traveled a really long way to earth—we might as well dine on the best it had to offer. We just needed to find out what that was.

  As we turned into the last aisle, I spotted those three very pretty, very snotty back-row girls from bio. They were huddled together, whispering. Didn’t they ever do anything else? That uncomfortable feeling came back over me, and I thought about walking away, but then I remembered who I was. I decided to be the bigger gal and to ignore the fact that being near these girls was making my heart beat just a little faster than usual. Maybe we’d just gotten off on the wrong foot. I walked straight up to them and said, “Hello. I’m taking a poll for the, um, the government of Georgia?” Governments did polls, right? “What is your most favorite food?” Hey, maybe I could get some real info from these chicks.

  The one with the raven-colored stripes in her hair said, “Anchovies. Aisle six.”

  The one with the pale porcelain skin said, “Sardines. Aisle six.”

  And the one with the cold black eyes said, “Pickled pigs’ feet. Aisle ten.”

  None of them said it with much of a smile. I thanked them; they winked at me; I suffered through a shiver down my spine. We started to walk away, but just before we turned the corner, Era pitched forward with a jolt, landing flat on her stomach in the middle of the aisle. Peals of laughter rang out from the girls behind us. I turned to throw a nasty look their way for being so rude, but even though their laughter was still echoing through the aisle, the girls themselves were nowhere to be seen. That’s when I noticed that my heart was pounding again, this time louder and faster than before. I let out a deep breath and headed toward my sister.

  “It’s those shoes,” Polly chided Era as she pulled her up off the ground.

  “I swear, it wasn’t,” Era said, dusting off her clothes and looking confused and embarrassed. “One minute I was just walking, and the next minute I simply lost my balance.”