DISCLAIMER: I own none of these characters except Jayme. She's my OC
Look, being a half-blood sounds awesome right? Well, it's not. it's dangerous and scary, and most of us die at a very young age. If you think this is fiction, good for you. Just believe it, you'll be safer.
My name is Jayme Jackson.
I'm 12 years old, and I have a twin brother named Percy Jackson. Up until a couple months ago, we went to a boarding school called Yancy Academy. It's a private school for troubled youth in upstate New York.
Are we troubled kids?
Yeah. I guess that sounds about right.
There are lots of places I could start explaining how terrible my life is, but the real mess started last May, when Percy and I went on a field trip to a museum in Manhattan. Twenty-eight mental case kids and two teachers on a school bus to look at Greek and Roman stuff.
Sounds like it sucks, right? Like torture? Yeah, most Yancy field trips were.
But my favorite teacher, Mr. Brunner, was leading the trip, so at least this trip had potential. Mr. Brunner was a middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning brown hair with a scruffy beard the same color. He wore a frayed tweed jacket that always smelled like black coffee. When you first meet him, you think you'll hate the class and him, but he's cool. He told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had an awesome Roman armor and weapon collection, so he was the only teacher that didn't put Percy to sleep.
I hoped this trip wouldn't end like they usually do. Which means, Percy and I won't get in trouble.
Wow, I was way off.
Bad things always happen to the Jackson twins (Percy and I) on field trips. Like at our fifth grade school, Percy accidentally fired a Revolutionary War cannon at the Saratoga battlefield. He didn't mean to hit the school bus, but it was in the way. And guess what happened; expelled. And before that, at our fourth grade school, we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, and I leaned against a lever on the catwalk at the same time as Percy hit the wrong lever. Our class kinda took an unplanned swim in the tank. Then before that... Nevermind, you get the idea.
This trip, I was NOT getting in trouble.
All the way into the city, I listened to Percy putting up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckle-faced, redheaded kleptomaniac she-devil messing with the best friend Percy and I share, Grover, in the back of the head with chunks of a peanut-butter-and-ketchup sandwich. (Gross!)
Grover was easy to pick on. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated, and he must've been held back a few grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and a wispy beard attempting to grow on his chin. If that wasn't enough, Grover was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE forever because of some muscular disease in his legs. He walked weird, like every step hurt, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run on enchilada day.
Sorry, off topic. Nancy Bobofit was throwing sandwich wads at Grover, which stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew Percy and I couldn't do anything to stop her because we were already on probation. The headmaster had threatened Percy with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, or mildly entertaining happened here, and threatened me with out-of-school suspension, back home which could be way worse.
"I'm going to kill her," Percy mumbled. Grover tried to calm him down. "It's okay. I like peanut butter." I turned to look at Grover from my seat. "Please tell me you don't like it with ketchup." Grover frowned, and gave me a look that read 'not helping.'
He dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch.
"That's it." Percy started to get up, but Grover pulled him back to his seat.
"You're already on probation," Grover reminded Percy. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens." "He's right," I added. I glared at Nancy, who cowered slightly then threw another chunk of her lunch, but at me instead of Grover. "Okay, I'm through with her." I snarled under my breath and lunged across the seats at her. She squealed, which sounded more like a squeak, but Percy and Grover pushed me back. "Whoa, Jayme," Percy said. "I want to kill her too, but you're in worse shape with the headmaster than I am." "Fine," I growled. I slowly sat back down into the bus seat, keeping my icy glare on her.
I really wish Percy would've decked her right then, I wouldn't have made a difference in what happened to us later.
Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.
He rode up in his wheelchair, guiding us through the wide halls of the galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black and orange pottery vases, which made me uncomfortable to be around; I break things a lot.
I thought it was crazy that stuff like this survived for two or three thousand years.
Mr. Brunner gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on top, and started to explain that it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl around our age. He told us about all the carvings on the sides. Percy and I tried to listen to him, because it was kind of interesting, but no one would shut up, and every time we asked kids to do so, Mrs. Dodds, the other chaperone, gave us the evil eye.
Mrs. Dodds was this math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, despite her fifty year old age. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley into your school locker. She came to Yancy about halfway through the year, after our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.
From day one, she loved Nancy Bobofit (which was her first real issue) and figured Percy and I were the spawn of Satan himself. She would point her scrawny, ugly crooked finger and us and say, "Now honey," and we knew we were going to have after-school detention for a month.
One time, after she made Percy and I erase answers out of old math books until midnight, Percy told Grover he didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. I agreed, the Grover looked at us, being dead serious, and said, "You're absolutely right." Which freaked me out a little, and I don't scare easy.
Mr. Brunner continued talking about Greek funeral art.
Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and I whirled around at the same time as Percy, and we said, "Will you shut up?"
Apparently, it was louder than it was supposed to be.
Everyone laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story.
"Mr and Miss Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?"
Percy's face flushed red. I wanted to pull down my pony tail and let my hair cover the embarrassment that flooded my face. "No, sir." Percy and I said in unison.
Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps one of you will tell us what this picture represents?" It sounded more like a statement than a question to me, but, for once, I didn't question a teacher.
Percy and I looked at the carving and I watched the relief flush over his face. He recognized it, and thankfully, so did I. "That's Kronos," I stated, which Percy finished with. "He's eating his kids, right?"
"Yes," Mr. Brunner said. If he was satisfied, he obviously didn't show it. "And he did this because..."
"Well..." Percy's voice faded, and his face showed he was digging through the files of his brain to remember. I did the same. I know this! I thought, feeling like a total idiot. "Kronos was the king god, and-" Percy started to say, then was cut off by Mr. Brunner.
"God?" He asked.
"Titan," Percy corrected. "And..." His train of thought had clearly ended. "He didn't trust his children, the gods." I said, picking up where Percy left off. He gave me a look of relief. 'Thanks,' he mouthed. I inclined my head slightly, giving a silent 'you're welcome' as I kept trying to explain. "So, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife, er, Rhea, hid baby Zeus and made Kronos eat a rock instead." Percy picked up where I left off. "And when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters-"
"Eeew!" A girl behind us moaned.
"-and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," Percy continued, "and the gods won." I smiled, and Percy held out his hand at his waist for a high-five. I returned it happily.
Some kids snickered from the back of the group.
Behind us, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're gonna use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'" "I'm going to kill her," I muttered to Percy, crossing my arms across my chest. "And why, Mr and Miss Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"
"Busted," Grover muttered, making me snicker.
"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair. "Aw," I said with mock sympathy, looking at Nancy with a pouty lip. "Did somebody get embarrassed?" She glared at me, and I felt Mrs. Dodds's eyes on my back as well.
I turned back toward Mr. Brunner. I was just happy Nancy, at least, got called out too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.
Percy and I thought about it. I glanced at him and saw a puzzled expression on his face that clearly matched mine. Finally, Percy spoke up and shrugged. "I don't know, sir." Mr. Brunner looked at me. I shook my head, my midnight ponytail flopping around. "I'm sorry, I don't know either."
"I see." Mr. Brunner looked disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr and Miss Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children," I gagged, and I don't have a lace stomach either. I don't gag easy, but the thought of mustard and wine together is nasty. Mr. Brunner continued, not paying me any attention. "Who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains around Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"
The class drifted off, the girls, except me, clutching their stomachs, while the guys pushed each other around and acted like idiots. Grover, Percy, and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr and Miss Jackson."
Crap, I thought. I could tell by the look on Percy's face he knew it was coming.
We told Grover to keep going. Then we turned toward Mr. Brunner. "Yessir?" I asked him, unwillingly meeting his gaze.
Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go anywhere - intense, ancient brown eyes that looked a thousand years old and have seen everything.
"You must learn the answer to my question." He stated.
"About the Titans?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."
"Oh."
I stayed quiet, I knew if this applied to Percy it applied to me too, but I had no opinion to interject in this conversation. I fiddled with my rubber bracelet, knowing I listen better with something else to do.
"What you learn from me," Mr. Brunner continued, "is vitally important. I expect both of you to treat it as such. I will only expect the best from you two, Percy and Jayme Jackson."
My temper flared, and I saw Percy's do the same. This guy pushed us too hard, he expected to much.
Yeah, his class was fun sometimes. Tournament days were the best, when he dressed up in some Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!" and challenged us, sword against chalk to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person that ever lived, and their mom, and the god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected Percy and I to be as good as everyone else, even though he knows we have dyslexia and ADHD and the fact that Percy and I have never made over a C - ever. Wait - he didn't expect as good as others from us, he expected better. And Percy and I can't remember all those names, nevertheless spell them the right way!
Percy mumbled something about trying harder and I felt anger flare in my eyes, while Mr. Brunner took one long sad look at the stele, like he knew the girl and he'd been at the girl's funeral.
He ordered us to go eat lunch.
The class was gathered on the front steps of the museum, sitting where every kid could watch the the foot traffic along Fifth Street.
Overhead, a huge storm cloud brewed. The cloud was blacker that smoke and spread across Manhattan. It's not the first weird weather event that's happened. Stuff like that's happened all over the city since Christmas. There's been massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. It wouldn't surprise me if a hurricane hit us. Personally, I blame global warming.
Only Percy and I seemed to notice. Some guys were throwing Lunchables crackers at pigeons nearby. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pick-pocket something from a lady's purse, and, go figure, Mrs. Dodds didn't see a thing.
Grover, Percy and I sat on the edge of the fountain, away from everyone else. We thought that maybe if we did that, everyone wouldn't know we were from THAT school - the loser freaks who couldn't make it anywhere else.
"Detention?" Grover asked, his eyes switching back and forth from Percy, then me, and back to Percy.
I shook my head. "Nah," Percy said before I could. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off us sometimes." He looked at me sympathetically, then at Grover. "I mean - we're not geniuses."
Grover didn't say anything for a while. Then, when it looked like he was about to give us a long, deep philosophical speech to cheer us up, he said, "Percy, can I have your apple?"
Percy handed it to him. I stared at the street, swinging my feet back and forth, bouncing the heel of my sneakers against the concrete as I watch people walk by.
I watched cabs go down the flooded streets of Fifth Avenue, and thought about mine and Percy's mom's apartment, which was only a little ways uptown from where Percy and I sat. We hadn't seen her since Christmas. I ached to jump in a cab and go home, or even run there. She'd hug me tightly and be glad to see me, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back here, to Yancy, and remind me to try harder, me and Percy both. Even if this was our sixth school in six years and we were probably going to be kicked out again. We'd never be able to stand that sad look she'd give us.
Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while reading a paperback novel (multitasking at its easiest). A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table.
I was about to give my sandwich to Grover when Nancy Bobofit showed up in front of us with her ugly friends - looks like she got tired of stealing from tourists - and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.
"Oops." She grinned at Percy with her hideous crooked teeth. Her freckles made her look like someone took and orange permanent markers and drew dots all over her face while she slept. Oh, that's a good idea. I'm gonna play connect the dots with a sharpie on her face.
I felt my temper flare. The counselors at every school we've ever been to has told me "count to ten, get control of your temper." I felt the color in my eyes erupt into flames as anger roared in my ears. I don't think either of us remember touching her, but when I regained control of my anger Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain screaming, "Percy and Jayme pushed me!"
Mrs. Dodds materialized out of thin air next to us, which was super creepy.
I overheard some kids whispering: "Did you see -"
"- the water -"
"- like it grabbed her -"
Percy and I were extremely confused. All we knew was we were in trouble. Again.
As soon as Mrs. Dodds was done babying poor little Nancy, promising her a new shirt from the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on us. There was an odd glow in her eyes, like a fire of excitement. Almost like she had finally found what she'd been looking for all semester. "Now honey -"
"I know," Percy grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks." I frowned at Percy and muttered, "Shut up!" He's going to make this so much worse for us.
I was right.
"Both of you, come with me," Mrs. Dodds said.
"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."
Percy and I stared at him, stunned. Mrs. Dodds scared him to death, I couldn't believe he was trying to cover for us.
She glared at him so hard, so evil looking, that it made his whiskery chin tremble.
"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she snapped.
"But -"
"You - will - stay - here."
Grover looked at us desperately.
"It's okay, man," Percy told him. "Thanks for trying." I gave him a reassuring smile, and squeezed his hand comfortingly, hoping it would make him feel a little more confident.
"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked at us. "Now."
Nancy Bobofit smirked. Percy gave her an angry, I'll-kill-you-later glare, which I copied and made 5 times sharper. Then he and I turned toward Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, at the top of the stairs, gesturing impatiently for us to follow her.
"How did she do that?" I asked Percy. He shrugged. I frowned. "Oh, thanks. You're helpful." I muttered. We both have moments like that a lot. Our brain will fall asleep or something, then it wakes up and we've missed something. It's like a piece of the universe broke away and left us staring at the random blank space behind it. Counselors have always said it was part of our ADHD, our brains missing things or misinterpreting things.
Neither of us believed them.
We walked after Mrs. Dodds.
About halfway up the stairs, Percy glanced back at Grover, who was pale. His eyes switched between Percy, Mr. Brunner and I, like he was begging Mr. Brunner to look up and see what was happening, but Mr. Brunner was sucked into his novel. Percy and I looked back up, seeing Mrs. Dodds had disappeared once again. She was standing inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall. Okay, I thought quietly, glancing at Percy. We're just going to buy Nancy a new t shirt at the gift shop. I tried to stay positive, but that obviously wasn't the plan.
Percy and I followed her deeper into the museum. When we finally caught up to her, we were standing in the Greek and Roman section.
Except for the 3 of us, the gallery was empty.
Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed over her chest in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making a strange, growling noise deep in her throat.
I was nervous without the noise, with it she was freaking me out. It's weird being alone with a teacher anyway, especially Mrs. Dodds. She stared at the frieze with a strange sense of hatred, like all she wanted to to do was pulverize it. "You've been giving us problems, honeys'," she said, her voice cold. Percy did the safe thing and said, "Yes ma'am." I stayed silent.
She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you two would get away with it?" She looked at Percy and I with a look that was beyond angry: it was evil. She's a teacher, I thought quietly and nervously, she can't hurt us.
"We- we'll try harder, ma'am." I said quietly, inching closer to Percy. Thunder shook the building with a loud crack. "We are not fools, Percy and Jayme Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said with a grim tone in her voice. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess and you two will suffer less pain." I raised my eyebrows and looked at Percy. What was she talking about?
All I could think of was when I tied Nancy Bobofit to a chair in the dorm room. Or that time I stole the answer key off of my science teacher's desk and cheated on my test. "Well?" Mrs. Dodds demanded, her voice sharp and angry. "Ma'am, I don't-" Percy said when she cut him off by hissing, "Your time is up."
Then it got seriously weird. Her eyes glowed like half-lit charcoals while her fingers extended into crooked talons. She leather jacket melted onto her back and molded into giant, bat-like wings. Grover was right, Mrs. Dodds wasn't human. She was now a shriveled up, prune-looking hag with bat wings claws and a mouth filled with yellow fangs. And she was about to mince me and Percy.
It got even weirder.
Mr. Brunner, who'd been reading in front of the museum no more than a minute before, wheeled into the doorway of the gallery, holding his pen in his hand. "What ho, Percy! Jayme!" He shouted and tossed his pen in the air before pulling out two short mechanical pencils and tossing them to me. Mrs. Dodds lunged.
With a yelp, Percy dodged a slash of talons next to his ear and I leaped out of the way from a slice at my chest. Percy pulled the pen out of the air and once it hit his hand, it wasn't a pen. It was a full-length bronze sword - the sword Mr. Brunner used on tournament day. I caught the pencils, one in each hand, and they extended into two bronze daggers.
Mrs. Dodds spun toward Percy with a murderous look in her glowing eyes. Percy was shaking so violently he almost dropped the sword. Mrs. Dodds let out an evil snarl that sounded out with a, "Die, honey!" She flew straight at Percy. "No!" I cried out, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Terror shined in Percy's eyes and we both did what was natural. He swung his sword and I brought down the dagger in my right hand directly into Mrs. Dodds' leathery back.
The blades passed through her body with a strange hiss, like she was made of water. Percy's sword in her shoulder, my dagger in her back. What was left of Mrs. Dodds reminded me of a dust storm in the Sahara. She exploded into a yellowish-gold powder, vaporized where she stood, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur, and a chill of fear running up and down my spine. I felt like her two glowing charcoal eyes were still watching me.
Percy and I were alone. Alone with nothing but a ballpoint pen and two small mechanical pencils.
Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Nobody but us.
Percy's hands were trembling violently when my knees gave out. I just sat on the floor, knowing I couldn't walk. What was put in my lunch? Had we imagined the whole thing? Percy and I walked back outside slowly. It had started to rain.
Grover sat by the fountain, using a museum map over his head to shield himself from the rain. Nancy. Bobofit stood near the fountain talking to her ugly friends, still drenched from her swim in the fountain. When she saw us walk out, she sneered, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt." "Who?" Percy and I asked in unison, making me raise an eyebrow. "Our teacher, duh." She said, her voice annoying me easily.
I kept my eyebrow raised while Percy blinked. Who was Mrs. Kerr? We didn't have a teacher named Mrs. Kerr. "What are you talking about?" I asked her, my mind filled with the stress from our endeavor inside. She made a disgusted noise as she rolled her eyes and turned away.
Percy asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was, which he replied to by saying, "Who?" He paused first and wouldn't look at Percy, so immediately knew he was messing with us. "C'mon, Grover. He's serious, we're serious." I said, my voice tight with impatience. Thunder cracked loudly overhead.
Mr. Brunner sat under his red umbrella, reading his book. It was like he never moved. We walked over to him. He looked up at us, looking distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen and pencils. Please bring your own writing utensils in the future, Mr. and Miss Jackson."
We handed him the writing utensils, not realizing we were still holding them. "Sir," I asked, hiding the strain in my voice with a sweet and innocent tone. "Where's Mrs. Dodds?" He gave me a blank stare in his ancient brown eyes. "Who?" "The other chaperone," Percy continued for me. "The pre-algebra teacher."
Mr. Brunner frowned at us and leaned forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, Jayme, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know there's never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you two feeling alright?"