Unclaimed
"Where are we going Mom?" – "Somewhere safe baby. Try to sleep for a bit, the drive will still take a while." She sounded different than normal. The voice not as indulgent as normal, but strained instead. Why weren't we driving home? Mom was always so happy, when we were at home. Having Dad there would also help!
"But what about being with Dad? He would be happy…" – "No. Listen now, Hector," interrupted my mom. "We cannot go back home. Your Dad would just get more trouble. We do not want that, do we?" Of course not! I love Dad. So, I mumbled a near silent: "No, but… but what if Dad needs help and what is going on?" – "Hector please stop the nagging. It isn't easy to drive in the dark and your father is able, yes, he is very able to help himself." The strain in her voice was there again and to the end it almost sounded as, if she was reassuring herself. What is happening?
"So…" – "This is final."
And that was the end of it. She always said it this way, if something was off the table and only returned there, if she laid it back on top there of her own accord. Can I have an ice-cream? No and this is final. And so, it went with quite a few things. Even Dad sometimes made jokes about it. Most of the times Mom took them in stride and a grin would cross her face, if Dad was making his funny voices again.
Just once she was clearly not happy about it and she interrupted my father from going on by pressing the sentence through her closed teeth. Dad had been explaining the day they agreed on my name and was just starting a new sentence as Mom boxed him in the rips and said: "We both agreed it being a perfect fit for you. We wanted something that connected you to home and so it was final for us."
The night was very light and I looked to the moon. It was nearly full, but it still had these small angles that kept it from being a complete circle. There was no cloud on the sky and the stars were clearly visible and would not move a bit like the rest of the world down her we were speeding past. Mom was a cautious driver, but also a fast one, if the street allowed for it. "Do the things always the right way Hector. Sometimes you need less and sometimes there is need for more. Measure is what it is all about.", my Mom would say.
And with the eyes to the stars I dozed off.
The world was slowly moving from the right to the left as I woke up. It was a soothing feeling and I felt sleep nagging at me again as my mom held me against her while carrying me. Wait, what? She hadn't done that since I was three! She just wouldn't. If asked she would say, that four-year old's did not need that. At first I vehemently voiced my displeasure, but later agreed to her. Most of the time.
"Mom…" – "I did not want to wake you, my little man."
She sounded calm and warm again. Her breathing was rhythmical as she strode through the forest with sure steps. The trees moved past us than normal. She wasn't running, but every step was urgent. Mom wanted to get there and she knew exactly where it was.
A deep breath came from my mother's mouth and she slowed down and said: "We are nearly there, baby. Not long anymore and you can sleep again." I just nicked my head a tiny bit into her shoulder. I was so sleepy. She walked on.
Wood creaked under Mom's steps and moments later a door opened, and she softly gripped me under the armpits lifted me up to put me down into a big armchair I promptly sank into. With the eyes, barely open I saw her placing a blanket above me and tugging me in. I loved it that way and even more so, when Mom was doing it. There never was the smallest gap, that gave way for unwelcome cold winds and breezes to sneak into.
"Hector", she said crouching in front of me with her hands on my cheeks. Her red lips curled into a small smile and despite the size it managed to dominate her face and would have reached far past her eyes, if a thing like that was possible. Black, smooth hair framed her face and fell in slowly turning locks onto her shoulders.
"I love you, always remember that. You are my son, family. As is your father." Her green eyes never leaving mine. "Never let the love out of your heart Hector. Never", she almost pleaded with me.
Of course, I loved her! She is my Mom. She was the most awesome thing in the world. Just why would she say those things. But before I was getting worked up entirely, I felt smooth lips on my forehead and my mom pulling me into her arms. All the while she was slowly and soothingly singing a song to me. I didn't understand a word, but sleep was getting the better on me and pulled me down to a good night's rest.
That had been twelve years ago and with every year and every birthday it felt like something out of a past lifetime. Almost two weeks ago I had turned 17. What had changed that day? Not that much, in my everyday life. I still lived in Camp Half-Blood like the past twelve years and I still sleep in my corner in the Hermes cabin and it is not like I am suddenly unhappy.
No. What changed was what I wished for at my birthday. In the first year hear I was constantly wishing for my mother to return or my father to appear and that wish would continue throughout the years. Pretty unsuccessful as it is. For quite some time I also just wanted to be recognized and get acknowledged by godly parent, if not just for getting outside of that over-crowded thieves nest, that is the Hermes cabin.
This year I just wished-for things to fall into place. I am 17 for fucks sake and have never been to a real school and currently have no real perspective to anything that would sustain, if I decided to leave the camp. Twelve years ago, I was forced to transition into a new part of my life and I was far from prepared. It is not like I fear to be suddenly thrust through something like that again. Who am I kidding, of course I am a little afraid of that happening again. No, this time I want to do that transition myself and be the one who controls what becomes of the life that might eventually include a family.
For real. Who would be retarded enough to want to go on quests? Be indebted to gods and haggle in the dirt for their favors. Cater to the whims of the gods or worse a prophecy.
I did that exactly once and had to watch how one of my closest friend nearly got himself his skin shaved of his face. What would be the point of retrieving a golden fruit? Immortality? Who would know. No mortal being has ever eaten one of them. Quite ironically, we are good enough to retrieve one of those fable apples for already immortal beings.
Aside from quests being a fool's errand most of the time, carrying your friend down from a mountain and dragging him for miles upon miles towards a place with someone medically apt to see over him and after all of that watching him change ever so slightly in a disillusioned cynic can make you lose interest in ever performing former kind of task again.
Once I lived in a house I called home and you better watch me, because I will do so again.
Fuck.
What shithead had the wonderfully bright idea to steal from Olympus. And not just from anyone or anything. Oh No. It had to be the goddamn Master Bolt. In case you did not know, that is the super-loaded symbol of power from Zeus. The King of Olympus and ruler of the gods.
I should stop wishing for things. My mother never returned, I am still unclaimed and now everything is falling out of its place.
Fuck.
