Ch 2 Three old ladies knit the socks of death
Hi everyone sorry it took awhile but i have been busy with school
I know this chapter is short but it's better than nothing
disclaimer : i own nothing except Ida and this plot
Percy's POV
When we finally got back to Yancy, Mr. Brunner led us straight to his office so we could speak in private, we all sat down in the chairs, Ida looked ready to laugh and Grover and Mr. Brunner looked really nervous.
"How much do you two know?" Mr. Brunner asked, I couldn't help but smile a little and Ida answered for both of us.
"Pretty much everything" she said calmly.
I couldn't help but laugh when Grover fell backwards in shock over her statement.
"Ho-how can you do that? Neither of you have ever been to the camp" he asked, I decided to answer him this time.
"Ida's mother told her when she was six and Ida told me when I was eight."
Mr. Brunner tries to calm himself down before looking at us again.
"So how do you want to proceed? Stay here the rest of the school year or leave for the camp?"
I look over at Ida and I can tell what she is thinking.
"I think we should leave, but can we stop by at home and tell mom what's going to happened?"
"Mortals aren't allowed to-" Mr. Brunner started to say before he got cut off by Ida.
"She is clear sighted"
"I see, that changes everything" he looks at us before nodding.
"You can tell her but now you should start packing all your things so can leave, but remember you need to get to the camp by yourself just like everyone else"
We nod at him in understanding before we take off towards our dorms and start packing. I shove my clothes into my suitcase and I can't stop thinking of seeing my mother again. I was glad that I would see her again but at the same time sad because I won't get to see her for a while.
We went to the Greyhound and got on and I was happy to see Grover sitting there and waiting for us. We sat down with him and when the bus started moving I asked Grover to tell us about the camp, he smiled a little and his eyes got a faraway look.
"It's beautiful " he said after thinking for a moment. " there is no other way to describe it until you have seen it with your own eyes. We have strawberry fields, a sword fighting arena, a lava spewing rock climbing wall, monster filled forests, cabins dedicated to all the Olympians and so much more"
"Wow this place sounds amazing" Ida said and I nodded in agreement.
Suddenly there was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.
After a few minutes clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off. Ida, Grover and I filed outside with everybody else.
We were on a stretch of country road-no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On our side of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the other side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.
The stuff on sale looked really good: heaping boxes of blood red cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks I'd ever seen.
I mean these socks were the size of sweaters, but they were clearly socks. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn.
All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.
The weirdest thing was, they seemed to be looking right at me and Ida.
I looked over at Grover to say something about this and saw that the blood had drained from his face. His nose was twitching.
"Grover?" I said. "Hey, man-"
"Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?"
"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those socks would fit me?" I said jokingly.
"I don't think even bigfoot would be able to wear them Perce" Ida joked back.
"Not funny, guys. Not funny at all. "
The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors-gold and silver, long-bladed, like shears. I heard Grover catch his breath.
"We're getting on the bus, " he told me. "Come on. "
"What?" I said. "It's a thousand degrees in there. "
"Come on!'" He pried open the door and climbed inside, but I stayed back. I turned to Ida and saw her staring towards the ladies now with an unreadable look on her face.
Across the road, the old ladies were still watching us. The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that snip across four lanes of traffic. Her two friends balled up the electric-blue socks, leaving me wondering who they could possibly be for-Sasquatch or Godzilla.
At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.
The passengers cheered.
"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!"
Once we got going, I started feeling feverish, as if I'd caught the flu.
Grover didn't look much better. He was shivering and his teeth were chattering and Ida looked ready to throw up.
"Grover?"
"Yeah?"
"What are you not telling me?"
He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"
"The middle one took out her scissors, and she cut the yarn. "
He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but it wasn't. It was something else, something almost-older.
He said, "You saw her snip the cord. "
"Yeah. So?" as soon as I said that I suddenly remembered who in Greek mythology that seconded three women and yarn.
"The Fates…" I said quietly.
"O Styx…" I heard Ida mumble under her breath.
"This is not happening, " Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. "I don't want this to be like the last time. "
"What last time?"
"Always sixth grade. They never get past sixth. " Ida laid a comforting hand on Grover's shoulder so he stopped to freak out so much.
"Grover does that mean one of us is going to die?"
He looked at me mournfully, like he was already picking the kind of flowers I'd like best on my coffin.
There we go please Rate and Review