Authors Note: Oh my goodness, thank you so much Slightlysane. Your review made my day. I've put a lot of effort and research into this story, so I'm so glad you think it is turning out well. A big thank you to Time2Wake as well. I really, really appreciate that both of you took the time to write a review. As I've said, they make my day. 3
On that note, I just thought I would mention that this probably won't be a very strong T. The main reason I rated it that high was because I knew I was going to show the racism of the time more than Riordan did. It is truly sickening to read what it was like in that time for anyone not of the right European decent.
Once again, I will point out that I am not Rick Riordan. I do not have access to his brain, laptop, or secret notes. Therefor this is fanfiction, and I don't own the Heroes of Olympus/Percy Jackson characters, world, or tofu tacos.
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Chapter 2: Micky Mouse's Dog is a God?
January 2, 1942
A week passed, and still there was no news of Hazel. Christmas came and went. Sammy had a horrible sinking feeling in his gut that kept telling him he was never going to see her again. He did his best to ignore it.
But as the two week mark was approaching, Sammy had to admit Hazel was not coming back.
But Sammy Valdez was not known to give up easily. He was certain Hazel was in trouble, and he was determined to help her. There weren't many people in this world Sammy felt any real affection for, but for those few, his loyalty was absolute.
So he tried to talk to his parents about the possibility of going to Alaska to rescue Hazel. He told them how he'd asked around, and that he was now dead certain that Queen Marie had lost her mind, and she seemed set on bringing Hazel down with her. She had been overheard having conversations with herself, convincing herself that Hazel was cursed and poisoned.
But his parents refused to listen. They said they didn't have the money to spare for a wild goose chase to Alaska. They said that there was nothing he could do, and he should just accept it.
Still, Sammy refused to give up. He contemplated his options from the back row of his English classroom, drumming his fingers on the desk and balancing his chair on the two back legs.
Slowly he began to piece together a plan. He needed money, and he knew of a very wealthy looking man who might also have some affection for Hazel.
Pluto.
Sammy wrote his name in inch-high letters on a sheet of notebook paper.
Pluto.
He stared at the name, willing it to reveal its secrets. First name, last name, who knew? Sammy knew he had heard it before. There was a newly discovered planet named pluto, and a Disney character, but, he had the feeling that the fancy-suited, Hitler-eyed man 'ol Mr. Delmont had described would not appreciate being compared to a playful cartoon dog.
Sammy had interrogated Mr. Delmont a dozen times in the past fifteen days, trying to extract every last detail he could about the night of Hazel's departure, and the mysterious Pluto. It would make sense for Hazel's father to be white, even though Hazel didn't look any less black than her mother.
A white man would not have been allowed to marry Queen Marie. He might have promised to send her money to help take care of Hazel and not followed through, and that was why Queen Marie hated him so much. Sammy thought about the man just showing up out of the blue on Hazel's thirteenth birthday, and giving her a few colored pencils, as if that fixed everything. What a crumb.
This man obviously wasn't very concerned for Hazel. Sammy could probably get himself a boatload of trouble trying to beg a white man for money to rescue his illegitimate colored daughter, but he really didn't have any better options right now.
"Mr. Valdez, this class and this schoolday are over."
"Auh!" Sammy yelped as he was pulled out of his thoughts. The front of his chair came back down with a thud that echoed through the empty classroom. Miss Finley was standing before him with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I'll go-"
"I'm going to hope that the 'Pluto' on your paper is your choice as an essay topic. Are you planning to write about the planet or the god?"
Sammy's heart almost stopped.
"God? There's a god named Pluto?"
"Yep. He'd Greek or Roman or something like that. God of the dead."
A god of death?
White as death. Eyes like Hitler. Felt frozen. Ran like she'd seen the reaper himself. Cursed jewels.
"Thank you, Miss Finley, you're the best!" Sammy yelped as he grabbed his books and ran from the classroom as fast as his legs could carry him.
For the first time in his life, Sammy was in a desperate hurry to reach the library.
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The St. Agnes' Academy For Colored Children and Indians had to have the worst library in the world. It was slightly larger than the average closet and all of the books were beat up hand-me-downs with pages falling out and bindings so dry and beat up you could see the glue flaking off every time you picked one up.
Sammy groaned as he tried to track down lost pages from the one and only mythology book in a box labeled "Homeless Pages." Of course someone had scribbled a letter 'p' over the 'm' so it now said "Hopeless Pages."
Come to think of it, Sammy remembered that he had been the one who changed the title to the Hopeless Box. Sixth grade. Good times.
Hopeless was right though. This was utterly ridiculous. Sammy had looked over at least thirty pages so far. He hadn't even made a dent in the Hopeless Box, and he'd seen no sign of Pluto or any other planet-god-people in the pages he had searched.
He glared at the Greek Mythology book. It shouldn't even count as a book. It was a cover with a page or two desperately clinging to the rotten glue of its binding.
Sammy sighed and walked over to the librarian's desk. He hated talking to Ms. Rosewood. She was a nasty old woman who always smelled of stale cigarettes and treated everyone with darker skin than hers like cockroaches.
"Ma'am, are there any other books about Greek or Roman mythology?"
Ms. Rosewood gave Sammy a glare that could have melted lead. "Do I look like the book fairy to you?"
No, you look like a bitter old mulatto who tried to pass by using a boatload of bleach so now your skin looks like you borrowed it from a cadaver.
"No, ma'am. But I was hoping you might have some idea where I could find a book about Greek myths that actually includes pages. They come in handy you know, make for good places to put words."
Whoops, that may have come out wrong. Ms. Rosewood never liked his attempts at humor.
"Don't you take that tone with me boy!" she shouted. "Filthy pachucos. Get out of this library! Go back to Mexico you little-"
Sammy ran out the door. Once Ms. Rosewood started her insults, there was no stopping her. This was why he hated going to the library. As soon as he was a few hallways down he made a rude gesture in the direction he had come from and marched away. Then he made a funny face, just to prove to the universe that nothing anyone said to him would get to him, no matter how mean.
Maybe this whole plan was stupid. Greek and Roman gods didn't actually exist. Hazel's father must just be named after the god Pluto. Or maybe he was named after Mickey Mouse's dog. Maybe Pluto wasn't even his real name.
But still... the way this Pluto man had frightened 'ol Mr. Delmont made Sammy wonder. That old guy wasn't easily frightened. But he still trembled at the memory Pluto two weeks later. If this man had had such an affect on Mr. Delmont...
Sammy sighed and pulled the leather bag out of the pocket of his battered suit. He could feel the supposedly cursed gemstones rubbing against each other along with the crinkle of his dollar bill.
Hazel had believed in the curse. No matter how much Sammy tried to convince her it was all just silly coincidence, she never believed him. She felt guilt over these gems as though she had gone around a killed all the people her bullies claimed were her fault.
Jewels that bring death.
Curse or no curse, there was something very strange about the way these valuables would just appear wherever Hazel happened to be. Not to mention the way every living creature except for horses seemed scared of poor Hazel.
Sammy put the bag of jewels back in his pocket and began his trek toward the White Oaks Riding Club. There was a library right down the street he could check.
He knew it was a stupid idea, but what could it hurt to read up a little about this Pluto-god-guy?
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Once again, any and all reviews are greatly appreciated. This chapter wasn't quite as much fun as the last one, I know, but I assure you that the next chapter (Bookforts, Demigods, and Arson!) will make up for it. ;)
Also, for those of you raising an eyebrow at the idea of lightening skin with bleach, I did not make that up. It actually is a somewhat common practice in some parts of the world, like tanning booths in the USA. And like tanning booths, it is absolutely horrible for your skin and your health.