Just a Walk in the Park
"Rachel, that's an odd sounding name, it sounds like a guy's name," Calypso said, picking the pepperoni off of a slice of cold, hard pizza. At first and initial taste, Taurus thought the pepperoni was a pickled, heavily spiced fish/rabbit sausage, but after Calypso tried the pizza, she pointed out that it in fact was not fish or rabbit, but some different meat completely. Calypso was fond of the pizza, not so fond of the pepperoni. She picked the pepperoni off of the pizza, then the cheese, then broke off the crust, ate the sauce coated piece, then the cheese, then the crust, but left the pepperoni untouched on Taurus's counter. Calypso sat on Taurus's counter, watching the minotaur cook breakfast.
"It's a female name," Taurus answered, stirring a batter in the bowl. "But it could be ambiguous."
"It sounds so weird. Rae-CHEL, RAE-chel. Humans have strange names, don't they?" Calypso said.
"Our names probably sound strange to them," Taurus said. "I've only met two humans personally, Calypso. They might not all have weird names."
There were a pile dishes in the sink and on the counter, an empty carton of partridge eggs, spoons lying around, mixing bowls of various sizes were pulled out of the cupboards, many had been used, and a layer of a flour-like meal covered everything, from the counters, to the floor, to Taurus. It looked as if Taurus was preparing an elaborate breakfast. Hard to believe it, but he was only trying to make pancakes.
Taurus always considered himself a very good cook. Ask anyone who has eaten at his apartment. All of his visitors would be surprised as the Chief of Security would pull out a pan from his cupboard and cook up a multi course meal with an elaborate dessert. Most visitors were dates who were always left satisfied after dinner and dessert, then after-after dinner and dessert. Unfortunately Taurus could not say the same of that to his dates. He was always left disappointed and empty with his dates, sometimes his disappointment appeared during the dinner conversations other times it appeared in the morning. In those cases, Taurus did not bother making a multi course breakfast for his dates. He would lie in bed, pretending to be asleep until his dates finally got out the bed, got dressed, and left the apartment quietly. Then Taurus would immediately crawl out of his sheets, get a shower, and head to work.
Taurus could toast sesame seeds, cook up a vegetable medley, and cook fish stock up at the same time, but the pancake mix left him baffled. It was pre-made; all he needed to do was add wet ingredients and eggs to make the batter. Rachel was kind enough to give him the entire box and the syrup plus a few other gifts like the popcorn, a half-gallon of milk, and a few extra slices of pizza. With all her generosity, Rachel had forgotten to toss in a measuring cup for Taurus. Both Rachel and Taurus overlooked the fact that the measurement system for the humans and New Olympians were completely different. Humans measure their dry and wet ingredients with the same measurement system, while Olympians prefer to measure their dry ingredients by weight and their liquids by volume (similar to the metric system).
Taurus started out with one medium sized bowl and mixed everything together, the best he could. He repeatedly looked back on his high school mathematics class so he could ratio the mixture. Unfortunately Taurus was a D math student, and it was fractions that brought Taurus down to a D student. Taurus ended up with a globby looking ball of dough at the bottom of his bowl. He recalled the eggs Rachel used, and he knew that there was a size difference between the partridge eggs in his fridge and the huge white eggs on her counter. Taurus added about eight eggs to the mixture. The result was a bright yellow batter that looked more like the base for an omelet than pancakes. So Taurus added milk to try and counter the yellow color. He ended up with pancake soup, tinged yellow. He moved the mixture to a large bowl and added more dry mixture, and the process started all over again. Taurus finally thought he was getting the mixture to the consistency of the mixture in the bowl Rachel had. Bit by bit he added the milk, the eggs, and the dry mix to the bowl. He was just tilting the box to add the dry mixture to the bowl when Calypso burst through his unlocked door, startling him. The remaining contents of the box poured into the batter as well as the box.
After removing what dry mix that did not suck up the batter and adding milk to thin out the thick mixture, Taurus felt the batter was a decent consistency. He set the bowl on the counter and dug through the pans he used on his stove top. Taurus did not own a flat skillet neither did Calypso. He doubted anyone in the apartment complex owned a very flat skillet. Taurus tried a regular pan for the first pancake, and the results were far from perfect. The pan was used more often to cook fish steaks. He found it very hard to move the spatula in a pan with sides, and the pancake continually burnt to the bottom of this skillet.
In the end, Taurus took round cake pans and poured the mixture into the bowl and threw them into the oven under the broiler. He watched the pans carefully as the mixture bubbled and the top turned a rich golden brown. Taurus leaned over and pulled the cake pans out of the oven.
"Are they done?" Calypso asked. Taurus placed a toothpick in the center of a cake. It came out clean.
"I think," he said, putting on his glasses to inspect the toothpick further.
Taurus took one pan and turned it upside down on a plate. He set the cake beside Calypso. He kneeled down to inspect the cake. Calypso jumped down from the counter and squatted down beside Taurus.
She nudged him. "So, is that what it's supposed to look like?"
"Well, it looks like cake, and it came from a pan," he stated, looking at the pathetic excuse for both a pancake and a plain ordinary cake. It looked as if it was collapsing in on itself. He nudged her. "You can have the first slice."
"No thanks, I'm not hungry," Calypso said. The center of the obese pancake collapsed. "Not that hungry anyway."
"Fine," Taurus said, standing up. He cut a slice of pancake and slid it onto a plate. It landed with an audible 'plop', much like the sound of a dead fish hitting the cutting board. Taurus drowned the slice in maple syrup. "Well, down the hatch."
Taurus gulped a forkful of pancake. It tasted like a pancake, but it was thick and pasty. It slid down his throat like a sea slug. Taurus had to apply extra force to get the clump down his esophagus.
"Are you alright?" Calypso asked. Taurus's throat felt as if it just pushed a multi-ton boulder down a muddy hill and it repeatedly seized up in the thick mud.
"It's great, have a slice," Taurus said, thrusting the plate in Calypso's face.
Calypso wrinkled her nose. "Eww, no! I don't even think the middle's cooked!"
"Eck," Taurus grumbled. "Well, my morning's officially been wasted."
He scraped both pancakes into the sink. The pancakes would through a disposal unit and then into a special underground storage facility underneath the island. Here the pancakes would meet all the garbage disposed of by the citizens of New Olympus. The rotting garbage would provide energy to help run the city, food for the fish farms, and fertilizers for the farms.
As Taurus cleaned the monstrous pile of dishes that was threatening to consume his kitchen, Calypso dug through his satchel. Taurus did not mind. He liked the naiad's unabashed curiosity, just the way she asked questions, spoke, delved into things. She was one of the very few people that did not cower in fear of him. Included in that list was Helios because he was an asshole, Talos because he wasn't programmed to fear the Chief of Security, and Boreas, because that man is nearly twenty feet tall and commands lightening, and maybe because he knows Taurus is not the kind of man to be feared.
"Hey, Taurus, what's this?" she asked, holding several bags of popcorn.
"Popcorn," Taurus answered.
"This?"
"A book I borrowed," Taurus said.
"This? It was at the bottom of the satchel."
"It looks like a cup. I don't recall Rachel giving me that."
"Hey, there's a note! Dear Taurus, thought you might need this. Love Miss Rachel Wesley. Miss Rachel Wesley? Huh," Calypso said. She twirled the cup by its handle around her finger. Her lips puckered as she read the note again. "Love?"
Taurus snatched the cup and the note off of Calypso. He examined the cup; it was engulfed in his massive hands. It took a second to register, but Taurus realized he was holding not an ordinary, drinking cup, but a measuring glass.
"Shit."
&&&
"Rachel, you're in a relatively good mood," Lisa said. "Did you ace that chemistry exam?"
With her arms filled with a massive cardboard box filled with new Dan Brown novels, Lisa walked in on Rachel, who was shelving the new shipment of Jane Evanovich novels. She was smiling as she shelved, humming to whatever tune happened to be on the radio. Classic rock, Rachel was the only person who still listened to class rock. Lisa hasn't heard it in years, most of the employees preferred to listen to more "modern, in-touch-with-modern-life" music.
…I see a red door and I want it painted black. No color any more I want them to turn black. I see the girls walk by dressed in thier summer clothes. I have to turn my head until my darkness goes...
"Gotta B on it, and spring break starts Monday, I'm completely hyped," Rachel said.
"Are you going to south for break?" Lisa asked, turning the radio down to a barely audible beat.
"No. Staying up here to finish a term paper and prepare for finals," Rachel answered, shelving the last book.
"I take it you want all of next week off then," Lisa said.
"It's completely up to you, but I'm all game," Rachel answered.
"You're going to be up here this summer, too, right?" Lisa said, slicing open the box with a razor.
"Yeah, it's too much of a hassle to move across the state for three months, and I've got a sweet apartment for the moment. I don't want to lose it," Rachel answered, taking several Angels and Demons hardcovers out.
"I thought your landlady was insane," Lisa said. "You're always bitching about her calling you up in the middle of the night because one of her dogs heard something."
"She is, but I'm paying almost nothing on my apartment because of those dogs," Rachel said, almost laughing.
"So, what's put you in such a good mood?" Lisa asked.
"I don't know. It's just one of those days," Rachel said, almost jiggling. "Do I get next week off?"
"I think I can give the first half of the week off, not sure about the rest depending on what Jason, Carmen, and Tobias is doing," Lisa said.
"That sounds good," Rachel said. She placed the last copy of The DaVinci Code on the top shelf. "Am I done here?"
"Sure, Rachel, you know where your paycheck is," Lisa said.
"Thanks," Rachel said from behind the counter. "I got it. I'll see you next week."
"See you next week," Lisa said.
"Seeya!" came an echoed shout, as the door slammed shut.
&&&
It was not quite dark when Rachel returned home. She had a B on her exam, a raise at work, and spring break was only a few days away. Today could not get any better.
As she walked passed the ten foot high fence that completely surrounded Mrs. Brigleston's property, the landlady's arsenal of Pomeranians barked and scratched at the fence. Their tiny black noses pressed through the cracks. There was a hoarse, loud yap from the oldest of the Pomeranians, Wimbledon Mathias Senior, AKA, Mr. Wiggles. He was Mrs. Brigleston's downright favorite, and Rachel's down right least favorite. The yellow and orange dog with noticeable clumps of crud under its bulgy black eyes was paranoid, senile, and spoiled rotten. It was amazing it was even alive. It barks all night all day, charges anything (from humans to cats to larger dogs to bicycles to cars to a train on one occasion; Rachel had the honor of chasing the dog down the tracks in the middle of the night), and eats twice its weight in wet dog food and bacon grease a day with its tiny, nubby, yellowed teeth.
"Mr. Wiggles! Lady Bell! Tulip! Peachy! Tanner Boy! Get back over here now!" Mrs. Brigleston shouted. Four of the dogs rushed immediately over to the elderly lady. Mr. Wiggles yipped and scratched underneath the fence. A black eye and corner of a narrow muzzle peeked up at Rachel. Realizing it was only the tenet that groomed and bathed it, the dog let a soft yip as a warning or final retort and trotted contentedly back to its owner.
Rachel climbed up the stairs that lead to her apartment and unlocked the door. The smell of fried fish welcomed her. Her backpack and purse fell to the ground when Rachel realized that there was someone else in the apartment with her. A knife rose and fell with extreme force. The sound of the blade cutting through cartilage, bone, and flesh was audible.
"YAAAAHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oh, Taurus," she said, gasping, recognizing the horned form, holding her chest. Her face burnt red. Was it from embarrassment, delight at seeing her minotaur friend, or the obviousness of what he was doing in her kitchen, or what most likely he was doing in her kitchen for her? "It's only you. For a moment there I thought someone broke into my apartment."
The hulking minotaur, equally startled, his eyes round and ears raised, turned to face her. In one large hand, he held a meat cleaver; his other hand supported him on the counter. Behind him, Rachel could see the scaly, finned tail and the gutted stomach of a large, stripped fish on one of cutting boards. The fish's head, thrown from the blow, lay a foot away, its black marble eye staring at the ceiling. On the table, her dictionary rested.
"I am sorry, Rachel, I did not mean to frighten you," Taurus answered, setting the cleaver on the counter by the fish. "Nor did I mean to come in such as this, without you allowing me, and use your appliances."
"It's all right," Rachel said. "What are you doing? Making dinner?"
"Yes," the answer was clear-cut. "I owe you greatly."
"All you ever talk about is debt. There's a lot more topics to talk about in this world than debt," Rachel said, setting her backpack, coat, and purse, on a chair. Rachel was not going fight Taurus over dinner. It was nice that someone else was doing the cooking. It had been a long time since someone cooked for her. "They were gifts. So, did you make pancakes?"
"Yes," Taurus stated, stirring something in a large metal kettle. Rachel did not recognize it as hers; Taurus must have brought it along with him. Taurus tasted whatever was in the kettle then added a pinch of coarse salt.
Strange vegetables covered her counter. There were things that looked like squash or zucchini except in a variety forms, colors and sizes, carrots except they were large and appeared to be a bundle of roots, massive eggplant like fruits, the thick bulbous stalks similar to celery except with feathery leaves, and bundles of herbs. There were a few round loaves of brown, crusty bread and spotted eggs in a basket. All the burners on Rachel's stove were in use and there appeared to be food in the oven as well. Taurus must have been bulked down on his hovercraft with all this.
"Taurus, you didn't have to," Rachel said, opening the fridge. There large, parchment covered parcels on every shelf. "Taurus, really, how did you managed to fit all this on your hovercraft?"
"I have two," Taurus answered, filleting the fish. "I just brought the second one."
"Do you want some Sunny-D?" Rachel asked, removing a jug of soft, yellow-orange juice. "It's like orange juice."
"Sure," Taurus answered as he patted the filet of fish with chopped herbs and salt. He put the filet in a pan and put the pan in the oven, removing another pan, a casserole. Rachel filled a glass for Taurus and set it down beside him. She was a little unnerved when she stood beside the minotaur. She had forgotten how large and intimidating he was. She felt weak in the knees.
Rachel leaned against the counter, watching the bull-man cook. She felt the blood rush to her face, it had to be from the heat, from all the burners on. She prayed it was. She had never came home and found a man cooking dinner for her, even prior boyfriends never cooked her dinner, not even meals that were not on a grandiose scale as this. The longest she had ever had a boyfriend was eighteen months (they broke up shortly before she went to college in the city), and the most he did was take her to the local McDonalds on her birthday. This was the third time she had seen Taurus, and he was cooking her dinner! Taurus came earlier than he said originally, came into her house without her inviting him, used her kitchen without asking her, but she wasn't angry, not in the least bit. She was pleasantly surprised and just as pleasantly embarrassed.
"Is that program on tonight?" Taurus asked looking over his shoulder as he chopped vegetables, "CSU? ICS? CSS?"
"CSI," Rachel corrected, and tried to hide her reddened face behind a curtain of messy brown hair. She hated how she looked after a long day of work and classes. He must think I'm disgusting, Rachel thought, recalling how neat and tidy he was on his earlier visit. "Yes, it's on right now. I'll turn it on for you."
"Thank you," Taurus said, expertly slicing a white carrot into a kettle.
"So did you like my book?" Rachel called out from across the room.
She noticed a small smirk on Taurus's muzzle as he sliced a leek into the kettle. "Yes. The author had a very extensive vocabulary."
"I hope you didn't read the whole thing, Taurus. It was a dictionary, a list of words with their meaning, word use, and pronunciation," Rachel said.
"I realized that on the first page. We call a dictionary in our language Logos. But I was able to read on you humans' interesting terminology. I found some words, amusing," Taurus said.
"You should have looked at it when you borrowed it," Rachel said. "I have a lot of other books that you would have enjoyed much more. You didn't even bother looking at them when you were last here."
"Yes, maybe later," Taurus answered.
Rachel walked down to her multi-purposed living room and moved the television so that Taurus could see it from the kitchen. She turned on the television. The theme song was playing, so Taurus missed the introduction. But she figured he would comprehend it, he seemed extremely adept at catching on. Taurus was busy with something, but his ears were cocked towards the TV set. Rachel figured since she was halfway to the bathroom, she might as well take a shower.
As commercials came on, Taurus looked up to ask Rachel if she had any mustard seed. The human was gone, but he could hear the sound of a shower turning on through the closed bathroom door. Steam poured out from the crack at the bottom door.
"Oh well," Taurus said, removing an octopus from one of the parchment wrapped parcels.
&&&
Rachel stood in the shower, washing the remains of her Herbal Essence shampoo from her hair. As the swirls of shampoo disappeared down the drain, all she could do was think about life.
Here I am, a junior in college, barely making the grades, working two jobs, living beside a rich, crazy lady and her equally crazy dogs that eat better than I do, Rachel thought, crossing her arms. And now there is a mythical beast in my kitchen cooking dinner. I can't even believe it. Am I dreaming?
After Taurus had left, she really thought she was dreaming. It was all she could think of, did it really happen? Did it really happen to me? Did some creature with the head of a bull—no, some person with the head of a bull—borrow her books and spend the night in her apartment, watch CSI with her, eat pancakes, and help her study? She couldn't believe it. Maybe she could believe it if Taurus belonged to some race that supposedly died out years ago, but Taurus belonged to legends, legends so outrageous that they were never considered to be true by anyone! There weren't even crackpot scientists who said that these creatures exist, some said they were based on actual animals or fossilized remains, but none that said they were downright real and living on highly technologically advanced island. In fact, the legend of the Minotaur did not even say that the Minotaur had a child, Rachel was shocked. She would never have considered this even happening—ever. This situation was just passed the insane and on the verge of the impossible on Rachel's weirdness scale. She dreamed more about getting abducted by aliens or discovering the Loch Ness Monster than ever having dinner cooked for her by a descendent of the Minotaur.
A minotaur police officer for a hidden colony of monsters who had a Mohawk and a ponytail and an earring who is patient, civil, polite, neat and clean—a bit on the stoic and moody side though, might I add, but he has a sexy voice, Rachel thought as she chewed on her thumbnail, He is full of surprises. I would have never expected him to act like this, he doesn't appear to be the kind of guy who wants to brush his teeth when he wakes up or wash his hair or wipe his boots. I honestly would have expected him to be more shocked at human culture than this, to be, well, primitively frightened, like he doesn't know how to use anything and is asking questions about everything and knocking things over in his confusion. He seems to know what he is doing.
Rachel looked back on her reaction to Taurus. She thought, maybe, that if she had expected something like this to happen in her life, she would have been frightened of him. But she never expected, or even considered this to happen. Her mind always worried about what she would do if she got mugged on the streets of New York or worse. Initially, she was frightened of Taurus, not terrified. Years of scary movies killed her fear of monsters. It was more the shock of seeing him that made her faint. Just as strange as seeing him, was how quickly she trusted him. As she thought earlier, he had the voice of a guardian angel. He didn't sound like he was going to her, he didn't even sound interested in hurting her or very interested in her at all. Strange, but she felt safe around him. Safe enough to invite him into her house to spend the night as she slept in a bed with an unlocked bedroom door, safe enough to take a shower as he stood only a room away in a kitchen with a meat cleaver. The idea of Taurus doing any harm to her seemed absurd. So absurd that Rachel shook it off, letting it run down the drain with the remnants of shampoo and soap. She turned off the shower.
Yeah, a five hundred pound wall of muscle with horns and a laser gun. Who's gonna want to mess with me? she thought smugly. Of course I wouldn't be scared of him—or should I be scared of him?
Rachel held up her bottle of Herbal Essence Mango-Peach shampoo. Maybe I shouldn't be scared of a guy who uses Herbal Essence shampoo and compliments on how good it smells.
&&&
Taurus had dinner made and on the table when Rachel finished her shower and redressed into more comfortable clothes. The table was completely covered in dishes. Rachel was shocked at the sight. She hadn't seen a meal like this for a long time. There was the fish Taurus was filleting earlier on a plate covered with lemon slices, a vegetable medley with the squash, the strange bulbs she saw was stuffed with a bread and herb mixture, a soup, a casserole, and numerous other vegetable dishes.
"Taurus, you didn't have to make such a big meal," Rachel said. "Do your people eat this much food?"
"Most of our meals consist of four courses, plus a dessert," Taurus said. "Speaking of which."
Taurus removed something from the freezer. "Pomegranate ice."
"Taurus!" Rachel exclaimed and said nothing else.
"You humans don't eat meals like this often?" Taurus asked, pulling a chair out and sitting down.
"Only on holidays, I'd love to see what your people's holiday dinners look like," Rachel said sitting down. She gaped at the meal before her.
Everything smelt good, well, fishy good. Rachel was a country girl; she was not accustomed completely to eating seafood. She had grown accustom to sushi since she moved to the city, so this cooked fish should not be a hassle. The vegetables were new to her as well. She had never eaten eggplant before, and many of the vegetables she had never seen before. But if Taurus could gulp down a half dozen pizzas without questions, she could try some good down home minotaur cooking.
"Taurus what do you think I should try?" she asked.
"Everything," Taurus answered.
"Okay," Rachel answered.
She tasted a little bit of everything. The fish was delicious. It was so tender that it fell apart easily and the herbs coating the one side could not taste any better. The casserole, it turned out to be a combination of sliced eggplant, tomato like fruit, and a few other chopped vegetables was also very good. The vegetable medley was delicious and so was a cooked salad of spinach and almonds. Rachel had seconds on both these. The stuffed bulbs, they turned out to be fennel, were her second favorite. Her first favorite was the seafood soup, a mix of sweet, root vegetables and scallops, thick and sweet chunks of white meat.
"This is delicious, Taurus. I've never had scallops before," Rachel said. "I've seen them in Chinatown all the time, now I think I'm going to buy them."
"But it's not scallops," Taurus said as Rachel finished her second bowl. "It's octopus. If you cook it just right and remove all the suckers and skin before cooking it, it is very sweet meat."
Rachel felt her stomach cramp.
&&&
Rachel did finish her octopus soup. Octopus was good, as long as you could get pass the fact that the meat belong to a bulbous, slimy creature with tentacles. Just because it tasted good didn't mean that Rachel was going to go out and purchase an octopus anytime soon.
"That was delicious, Taurus," Rachel said, licking her lips. There was still plenty of food left, and she had tried everything at least once. "I would have never suspected that…"
"I could cook" Taurus said, finishing her sentence. Rachel felt her face burn, but Taurus gave her a small smile, pure and genuine. It did little to soothe her. "Many of my people say that."
"Your people," Rachel stated, looking at her empty plate, "you never said much about your people. What are they like?"
"Different," Taurus said.
"Different, so is there more than minotaurs and centaurs?" Rachel asked.
"Satyrs, Cyclops, harpies, gorgons, titans, cecropians, griffins, a variety of nymphs, mercurians," Taurus said. "And that's just the tip of the iceberg. There are dozens of different races on New Olympus."
"And you all get along?" Rachel asked. "Like it was nothing? I mean the people fight here just because of beliefs or the color of their skin. But a small island with the people so variably different wouldn't there be some kind of friction?"
"There used to be fights thousands of years ago, but we have rose above that. We are still just mortals," Taurus said, "There are squabbles among the people, but it rarely has to do with race."
"Taurus," Rachel said, "you said your people hated humans, why don't you? I mean, I would have expected more animosity from you than this."
Rachel indicated the meal before her. "Humans killed the Minotaur, killed your people. You could have stolen my books and left in the alleyway and you could have just as easily left in the alleyway again when you returned my books, but you didn't, why?"
"I still distrust most humans," Taurus stated. It was another straightforward answer, so straightforward that he could not be lying. "And I'm a police officer; it would have been a smear on my conscience if I left you in the alleyway."
"What makes me different Taurus? I'm human," Rachel said.
"And I'm a minotaur, I'm something from your legends, and according to these legends I am a man-eating, woman defiling beast," Taurus said. "Shouldn't you be frightened around me?"
"I should, I think," Rachel said, looking down at the bowl of red ice, "but I'm not. I was startled by you, but never scared of you. You don't seem like the type of person who would hurt me."
Taurus managed a small smile at the human's polite, quiet truthfulness. She was nervous discussing the matter of her trust, since it brought up several questions about her conduct on her part. Did she even think that he could hurt her? How easily it was for him to do harm to her? Yet, she let him into her house without questions, without any noticeable nervousness.
"But why do you trust me, Taurus?" Rachel said, throwing in her own equally powerful question. "I'm a human. Your people have held a grudge against humans for thousands of years, and all of a sudden you trust me?"
Taurus suddenly shoved a huge spoonful of pomegranate ice into his mouth. He seemed to take time working on this mouthful, working over the answer in his head. He swallowed it.
"I don't know."
The answer was straightforward again, but this time, it didn't seem as rock-steady as his previous answers. Rachel could see through it.
"Have you met other humans? Or do you belong to some type of secret organization that is trying to get your people and my people together? Or are you hiding the fact you like humans in a world that hates humans?" Rachel asked. Taurus didn't have any more dessert to shove into his mouth.
"I've always hated and mistrusted humans. Parts of me still do, Rachel. Humans killed my ancestor, the Minotaur. Even long after his death, they still hunted down and butchered my people. After the slaughter was done, they would write huge ballads about how pure and powerful their heroes were and how weak, horrible, and monstrous my people were," Taurus said. "Humans are a pathetic, weak, dangerous lot."
"Taurus, I'm human," Rachel restated. "You can't just change your mind all of a sudden. I'm not exactly that influential of a person to just suddenly change a person's mind. Something bigger had to have happened to make you think that not all humans are bad."
"Something did," the answer was straightforward again.
Rachel leaned in, to listen.
"Unfortunately I cannot tell you."
There were no laws that forbid Taurus from telling Rachel why he changed his mind about humans—well some humans. He simply could not tell her. He rather preferred her to stay ignorant on this matter. It did not include her and would never come to include her. She was just a person, merely passing him in time.
Rachel's face dropped. It was like trying to push a brick wall, a brick wall with horns and a permanent scowl on his face. "It was delicious, Taurus, thank you. It's my turn, I'll wash the dishes."
Rachel stood up and stacked dishes on top of her plate and headed over to the kitchen. Behind her was Taurus gathered up the remainder of dishes and followed her to the sink.
Taurus stood beside her as she washed dishes, drying them and placing them on shelves with ease. Rachel was just barely five foot four, Taurus had to be at the most eight feet tall, no, Rachel recalculated as she looked up at the towering minotaur beside her, seven foot eight, give or take an inch. Taurus easily placed dishes on shelves Rachel required her handy-dandy step stool to reach. The dishes were cleaned and dried and left over food was placed in the fridge.
"I was wondering Taurus if you would be interested in visiting a few places in the city instead of sitting around the apartment. There is not much to do here besides eat and watch television," Rachel offered. "And study."
"It is too dangerous. I must keep hidden," Taurus said.
"Taurus, you've blown your cover to come drop off books. How about we go to Central Park? It's huge, no one will see you, you'll be fine and you can watch street performers from a safe distance," Rachel said, leaning on the sink. "You'll love it, trust me."
Taurus scratched at his chin. "Rachel, I can't. It's too dangerous."
"You're a police officer, right? You're more dangerous than anything else on the streets. And who is going to believe people if they saw you anyway?" Rachel said. "It would be nice. A walk through the park, that's all it will be, a nice walk in the park after dinner."
"Rachel," Taurus stated, "it is simply too dangerous."
"Taurus you were here twice before, and not once did I see anything in the paper or on the news about a deranged bull-man haunting the streets of New York. You were in the heart of the city standing in an alley with a gun! And no one saw you then! Besides, there are more important things people are focusing on in the media anyway. If anyone saw you, they'll just be turned away. HEADLINE: DERANGED BULLMAN HAUNTS THE STREETS OF NEW YORK! CITY IN TERROR! And right underneath it in smaller letters on the side of the paper; Suicide Bombing in Iraq, seriously Taurus, you don't have a thing to worry about," Rachel said, reaching out and patting the forearm of one of his crossed arms. Taurus looked to be reconsidering.
"I'll get my jacket," Rachel said before Taurus could answer.
&&&
Central Park was easy to find. Rachel did not even have to point it out. In the city of blinding lights and tall buildings, Central Park was a massive depression of darkness marred by the soft, round amber glow of street lights. The roundness and irregularness of the park burst out, threatening to take over the straight, geometric pattern of the city.
Taurus landed his hovercraft in the center of a copse of wide trees.
Rachel stumbled off of the front of the hovercraft. She stumbled for almost ten feet before finally catching herself.
"I don't think I could ever get used to that!" Rachel shouted. She brushed her windblown, terror stricken hair out of her eyes.
The ride was frightening. It wasn't that Taurus was a bad driver; he was a very good driver in fact. Rachel was just plain terrified of heights. In her lifetime, she had attempted to ride three rollercoasters, with disastrous results, and attempted once to ride a tilt-o-whirl. The tilt-o-whirl was barely into its first rotation when Rachel broken down hysterically. The workers stopped it, let Rachel off, and Rachel spent the rest of the day in the med office of the amusement park curled up in a fetal ball on a bed. Rachel spent most of her days at the amusement park on the carousal or the bumper cars or hanging out at the games. She was quite good at ring tosses because of this. The first time she rode the hover craft, she more involved with Taurus that being dangled five hundred feet over the city. And she sat behind him, unable to see completely where they were going through his broad shoulders. Taurus let her ride in front this time. Rachel was horrified. Now she had a front row view of the entire ride.
Rachel's knuckles were still white.
"See Taurus, it's not that bad," Rachel said, spreading out her arms, more to welcome the steady winds close the earth than to persuade Taurus from hiding.
Leisurely, Taurus left the confine of the copse of trees. He snapped a branch off, thick with the buds of flowers and the small, tender leaves of spring. He sniffed it curiously. It was not like any of the trees from home. Most trees were miniature, ornamental versions of what trees once were. The largest trees were in the greenhouses, and the largest trees Taurus had even seen were in Boreas's own personal meditative garden. He reached out to stroke another delicate twig between his massive fingers. He crushed a few of the thin, rubbery leaves between his fingers. He took in the acrid smell of the greenish oil.
"Taurus!" Rachel called out, rousing him from his inspection. She gestured for him to come out. "There's a lot more than the trees here."
His horned head appeared from the brush, the street lights glinted off his gold tipped horns. He sniffed cautiously, taking in his surroundings.
"Are you sure there's no one?" Taurus asked, looking around. He didn't see anyone or hear anyone or smell anyone. Unfortunately, in a city of hideouts and cracks, loud, constant noises, and a collage of vile smells, one, even with a precise sensory system and years of training, could not be safe.
"There's no one. Most people avoid the park at night," Rachel said, "come on!"
She waved to Taurus as she walked away from him. "Come on!"
Slowly Taurus stepped out into the grass. Several slowly deliberate steps later, he paused, halfway between the side walk and the trees. He absorbed the sight. Rachel watched him. At first, Rachel thought he was reconsidering, but then she saw the awe in his eyes, and she could only smile and blush.
In all his years, Taurus had never taken a large expanse of solid earth for granted. His entire life he had been surrounded by buildings and pavement. There were spaces of grass in New Olympus, and many buildings sported small gardens, but nothing compared to this! It was the first time Taurus could walk, and walk, and walk and feel earth, genuine dirt, beneath his feet. There were no buildings over shadowing him. The sky was open and easily seen; no buildings were to be seen from the corner of eyes. The experience was liberating. Only a few times Taurus had an experience this open, and they were all fleeting, but this, this lasted, and for once, the chief of security felt small.
"Taurus."
Rachel elbowed him in the side, jarring him. "Come on, there's a lot more than this."
Taurus followed her, looking at the massive trees, tall and proud, jutting from the earth. He walked along side her, looking over her at the expanse of the park.
"You know for someone from an advanced city, you seem pretty awed by trees and grass," Rachel joked as she walked along side him.
"There's nothing like this on the island," Taurus answered, but his mind was other places. In the distance he could see shadowy forms of people racing, but they did not discern the minotaur and his human charge in the poor lighting. "We do not have space for such things as this."
"Still, this is primitive and simple, you have all those machines and technology," Rachel said.
Taurus shook his head. "For all my years I've lived there Rachel, it is very monotonous. I'm used to it."
"I grew up in the rural America, Taurus, this is nothing compared to the farmlands," Rachel said. "Some people have backyards this big back where I'm from."
"You're not from around here?" Taurus asked, taking his attention from the park scenery to the woman beside him. He recalled the pictures she showed him the week before.
"Nope, I've only been here about three and a half years. I came here to go to school," Rachel said. "I needed a change in scenery, and I could have gone to a community college in western New York, but I wanted more. I need to spread my wings, and I was looking for some new experiences. And New York City is the place for new experiences."
"In deed it is," Taurus chuckled, putting his arms behind his back. He wasn't lying either. "So what is like back home for you? Is it like this?"
Rachel looked up, thinking. She put both her hands into the pockets of her blue and pink jacket. "It's slower. Not as loud. Everything is spaced out so you can see everything when you drive pass. Here, everything moves so fast it's a blur and you see nothing. Life is slow back home, and it's quiet, and calm. You knew everyone in the town and everyone in the town knew who you were. A lot of families could trace their ancestry back centuries to the 1700s. All the buildings were red brick or wood and trees were every where and there were no traffic jams, and at night there were no cars on the street. The sky is always black at nighttime. You could see all the stars no matter where you were in town. The tallest building in my town was eight stories high, and that was an apartment building built five years ago. From what I hear, they haven't built anything since then."
"It must have been a shock coming here," Taurus stated, now enthralled by Rachel's description than the park.
"It was," Rachel said, "for my first two semesters anyway. Then it grew on me. The city has the tendency of doing that. It was kind of hard living in a place where there are no Wal-Marts, and coffee shops and book shops exist on the corner of every street. My town had one coffee shop, and we thought we were pretty high class because of it, even though it sold only regular, decaf or French vanilla coffee, and here if you ordered a coffee, your tongue would get twisted trying to spit out the name of it. If you wanted to get a book, you had to go to Wal-Mart or to a nearby county where they had a Walden's Books or to a garage sale. But after a while, it was kind of nice living here. I mean, it is hell, and often it is, but I guess it beats living in ignorance."
"Your home, it sounds—nice," Taurus said.
"I guess if you're looking for peace and tranquility it is," Rachel said. "But it's like what you said about your home, it just gets boring after a while. I didn't want to be living like that. Everyone in the town lives and dies there, and I didn't want to do that. I wanted to get out, not sure how I was going to get out and how I was going to stay out, but I didn't want to be there. It was just worn out."
"Was it hard for you to move? To just change like that?" Taurus asked. In New Olympus, it is very rare for one to make such a drastic change in one's lifestyle. It was very hard to move to different scenery and be so far away from family.
Rachel looked down at the ground and sighed. "It was hard, it still is. I miss my family; I still call home every week. I used to call home two or three times a day when I first moved here. It's all for the better, I hope anyway."
Taurus nodded.
"What about you, Taurus? Did you want to become a police officer?" Rachel asked.
"I wanted to. My father was a police officer, and I followed in his footsteps," the minotaur answered.
"Do you like doing it?"
"It has its up and downs, but I do it because someone has to do it," Taurus answered.
"That doesn't sound like a good reason to do the job," Rachel stated. "Doing it because someone has to do it?"
Taurus shook his head. "I do it because I am the only person who can do it right, and I like doing it because of that."
"That's a weird reason to do a job, but if it works for you, then I guess it's an okay reason," Rachel said, shaking her head in return. They both did not completely understand each other, and they both knew it, but neither minded.
Rachel is very understanding for a human, Taurus thought. She's not arguing, but she raises good questions anyway.
The rest of the walk was quiet, between them anyway. There shouts and piercing horns in the distance, the occasional crash. From the nearby apartments and alleyways, the air carried the sound of radios and blaring television sets. The trees above them occasionally shook with the wind or a passing squirrel. Repeatedly, Taurus paused.
They passed a street bench with a homeless man sleeping on it. He woke as they went by him, shook his head groggily, and curled up again on the bench underneath a pile of newspaper. Taurus winced, he couldn't stop staring. Rachel walked faster as he slowed down. This was never a problem in New Olympus, everyone was taken care of. His stomach grew cold. His ears lowered in anger and disgust—humans. A sideways glance at Rachel, Taurus could see the troubled look on her face. She chewed her bottom lip and stared down at the sidewalk.
"I'm sorry, Taurus, I didn't mean for you to see that," Rachel said softly.
"It's all right," Taurus answered.
"Sometimes that happens to people. I feel horrible all the time when I see it. I still haven't gotten use to it," Rachel admitted hoarsely.
Taurus didn't answer.
They walked in silence again. Rachel stopped Taurus as she spotted one of the few street vendors ballsy enough to remain in the park after dark. Taurus stayed in the shadows as Rachel approached the vendor. She came back with two large Styrofoam cups. She held her one out to Taurus. Suspiciously, Taurus took the cup.
"It's lemonade, Taurus," Rachel laughed as he removed the lid. "We'll try to avoid another Pepsi fiasco."
Taurus wasn't amused. He sipped the lemonade, and it tasted similar to drinks from New Olympus, just a little sweeter and the lemon taste was not very strong. And then there was that slightly greasy aftertaste. It seemed liked the air of New York City was permeated with grease. It still tasted good, though.
It was quiet except for the sound of lemonade rushing up plastic, bendy straws. Rachel was enjoying the walk. She enjoyed the feeling of the cool night, the taste of lemonade, the muted sounds of the city and the enhanced sounds of the park, and even more, she enjoyed Taurus's company. It was awkward to her. She would never, ever walk in the park at night, not even with one of her friends. There were still people who loved to walk in the park at night, why Rachel never understood. And this is from a girl whose high school pastime was visiting cemeteries in the middle of the night and taking pictures of gravestones to see if she could get any ghosts on film. She felt safe walking by Taurus, just as if she was walking in broad daylight. Rachel turned to look at Taurus. There was a hollow sucking sound as he finished his cup of lemonade. Taurus tossed the cup into a garbage can twenty feet away. The garbage can was empty, but piles of trash surrounded it. There was a low rumble, forming in Taurus's nasal cavities. Rachel shrunk.
"Two points," Rachel joked nervously. Taurus looked at her, confused. "Nothing."
They just were just going around a turn, when Rachel held her arm out, bringing Taurus to a halt.
"Hear that?" Rachel said.
"Yes, it's people, should we leave then?" Taurus asked.
"No," Rachel answered and walked off the sidewalk and up a hill. "They're street performers. Come on, no one's gonna see us from here."
Rachel indicated a large oak tree and huge bushes. "We'll just sit down and watch for a few minutes, then go back to the apartment. Does that sound okay to you?"
Taurus curtly nodded. It was hard to tell whether he was tired or upset. The scowl he always carried seemed a bit lower on his face. Cows were the most stoic of all animals. Her grandfather told her that. You couldn't tell if they were in pain or hungry or happy by their faces, you had to wait for them to moo and say so. And Taurus wasn't one for talking. And dammit, he put cow expressions to shame. It was obvious he had a range of expressions, but dammit, he was a freaking stone when it came to showing them! With him, a full blown smile might crack his granite façade. Rachel decided it was better safe than sorry.
"You know what, let's go," Rachel said at the top of the hill, turning around. "It's getting late and maybe someone will see us."
There was startled sound, almost like a low moo. "Are you sure?"
"Unless you want to go home," Rachel said.
"Not yet," Taurus said. "I would like to see these performers."
He sat down on the moist grass; just the tips of his horns were noticeable from above the shrubbery. Rachel plopped down on the grass; she could feel the moisture seeping through her jeans.
There were a group of humans down on a brightly lit expanse of concrete. In the center of the pavilion was a fountain, lit by lights. The humans in the center were dressed in bright, clashing clothing. They were dressed in a similar style, though each had on a single, different color. The other humans watching wore heavier, duller clothing. They looked like a single, monotone colored mass. The performers, on the other hand, looked as if a rainbow had disbanded and its colors bounded in a display of speed and flexibility.
Taurus was quite amused. There were performers in New Olympus who performed in the theatres. Taurus never had the time to see these shows, he knew basically what went on, but never seen the acrobatics first-hand. He wondered how flexible the human body was; how it compared to New Olympian bodies. Of course, minotaurs were not flexible, neither were centaurs, but Cyclopes, nymphs, and satyrs (with their lack of large horns, clunky, muscular limbs, and lack of extra limbs) were highly flexible and capable of a variety of poses. Originally, Taurus thought the humans' performance would be mediocre, poses he was not capable of, but nothing special. Human bodies seemed so frail and inflexible.
Four humans lined up and one, dressed in orange and yellow, took a running jump, leaping over his cohorts and doing a back flip before landing on his feet. Taurus rose slightly in his seat behind the bush. There cheers from the crowd. The man in orange and yellow pulled a person from the crowd and lined her up with his companions. He took another running leap, landed on his hands and walked several feet. Taurus's ears pricked in the excitement. The crowd cheered the performers and the woman on.
Taurus and Rachel watched for several minutes. The performance was just building to a climax when Rachel felt something pressed against the back of her skull.
"Hand over you fuckin' money," a voice, half garbled, said from behind her. There was another jab into the base of her skull. "HAND OVER YOUR MOTHER FUCKING WALLET OR I WILL FUCKING BLOW YOUR FUCKING BRAINS OUT!"
Rachel turned her face slightly and received a painful prod into the bony expanse of her cheek. The man stood above her, a handgun held in his hand. His eyes were glazed over from a drugged stupor. His skin was unnaturally pale, a pasty white, as if the blood had been drained from it, and his eyes sucked up the blood. Foam poured between his ruined teeth and out the corners of his mouth.
His hand shook violently, he didn't seem to be thinking right, but Rachel still didn't know what do. A large grey elbow hit the man right into the stomach, right below his ribcage. Foam specked from the man's mouth as he fell backwards. The gun fell from his hand and right into Taurus's hand. The minotaur crushed the gun between his massive fingers. He stood up, fist clenched tightly. He looked down on the man and held his hand out, palm side down. He opened his fist, allowing the bits and pieces of the gun fall onto the man, shaking violently from either the hit, or the drugs, or fear. He sprinkled the pieces on the man as if he was sprinkling salt on a filet of fish.
It was disgusting, simply disgusting in Taurus's eyes. He had nearly arrested the man by instinct; in fact he had his hand on his hip to remove phantom cuffs. Damn. He was so used to carrying cuffs and badges, that he felt like he still held them. Now all he could do was glare at the man, clenching his fist in anger, the veins popping. Humans, only humans could resort to this, becoming this. It was a disgusting a thought.
Rachel gasped in shock. Taurus stood over the man, obviously deep in thought. How Taurus's people treated criminals or arrested them was alien to her, but she prayed to dear god Taurus had enough sense not to kick the man's head in or kill him.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?" the man screeched. The pavilion grew quiet. The man was half screeching, half crying, surprisingly, for the blow he took to the stomach. "WHAT THE FUCK? GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! HELP! HELP!"
"Oh my god, someone's getting mugged!" a woman screamed. There was a thunder of footsteps on concrete.
Rachel, frozen momentarily, stood up, "Uh Taurus, I think this will be a good time to—oomph!"
Taurus swiped her up in one arm and ran down the hill. Rachel's feet weren't even touching the ground, but came very close to dragging on the pavement. Her nails dug into his forearm as Rachel was taken on the wildest ride of her life. She was slipping, and prayed that if she did fall from Taurus's grasp, she didn't get a speed burn when she rolled on the pavement. Rachel didn't slide from Taurus's grasp until they reached his hidden hovercraft. She fell at the edge of the copse of trees. Her jacket and shirt were nearly pulled up over her head. Next to that little indignity, Rachel received little more than a bruise tailbone. Taurus stumbled a few feet, before landing snout first into the dirt in an extremely awkward position. If it were a different situation and not Taurus, Rachel would have laughed. The minotaur sat up and shook off. He turned to face Rachel.
"Come on!" he said, pulling her up by her shoulder. As he pulled Rachel to the hovercraft, Rachel pulled her jack and shirt over her bra. She nearly caused both of them to stumble. Taurus flung himself on the hovercraft.
With equal eagerness, Rachel jumped behind the minotaur. She flung her arms around his waist (it was like hugging a tree trunk wrapped in carpet), and pressed her forehead against the center of his back and forced her eyes as tightly closed as they could go as she prepared for one helluva speedy lift off.
The normally quiet buzzing engines of the hovercraft, roared into the night sky as Taurus slammed his hoof down onto the gas. Rachel desperately held on for dear life.
Twenty minutes later and above Rachel's apartment…
Taurus looked back at his charge. Her eyes were still pressed closed and arms, as stiff as branches, retained their grasp around his midsection.
"Miss Rachel Wesley, we are safe now. You can let go—anytime," Taurus said into the wind. "That man can't hurt you. We're miles away from the park."
He prodded her, tapping on her head. The experience must have been terrifying for Rachel.
"Oh, dammit, Taurus! I'm terrified of heights!" Rachel cried out. "Just tell me when we're at my apartment."
"We're at your apartment, you can let go of me now," Taurus said, startled. The hold weakened and Rachel looked down. They were hovering ten feet above her roof.
"Oh…"
Taurus lowered his vehicle. Rachel stumbled off and fell to her knees. She held her head and moaned. It was one hell of a night. She thought life was convulsive when she moved to New York. Now it just got a bit more erratic and exciting with Taurus. And just a bit more interesting.
Despite the night's excitement, it was a bad night. Rachel knew that, and she knew Taurus was just a bit disgusted in the human race. She thought his hatred was miniscule, but he was showing his true colors tonight.
"Is life always this exciting in this city?" Taurus mumbled as he stood beside her. Rachel looked up at him.
"Not like that, but it is exciting," Rachel said back. The minotaur sat down beside her.
"This city is disgusting," Taurus stated. "How can you humans live like this? We do not have these sorts of problems back home."
"We just live and deal, Taurus," Rachel blurted. "Some of us can't help it. Not all of us can get help. A lot of people try to get out of their situations, and continually get knocked down. Some people have no other options and some just come into hard situations. And a lot of people try to help other people in bad situations. And there are a lot of people trying to help New York. Sometimes, people don't want to be helped and sometimes people give up."
"Rachel, look at this! Your city is dirty, there is trash everywhere. People are pointing guns at each other's head and trying to steal money. There are people sleeping on the streets. Back in my home—"
"This isn't your home Taurus. This is mine. This is where I live; these are the problems I face in my world. We're not an island; we're not a small group of people. We're a giant continent with millions of people, millions of problems. We're not technologically advanced, so don't expect us to be at the same level as your people," Rachel stated. Taurus was taken back. Rachel cupped her hand over her mouth. Maybe she said a little too much, a little too quickly. Rachel pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face into her knees. "I'm sorry Taurus. This night was shitty. We both could have gotten killed and discovered. It's my all fault."
Taurus's shoulders fell. "It was a good night Rachel. And I'm the one who should be sorry."
Rachel did not answer. Taurus sighed and continued.
"If you could over look the mad dash through the park, the trash, the homeless, and the mugging that wasn't, it was a good night. We do not have trees this big and we do not have so much grass. I overlooked the good things. It is my fault. I did not mean to upset you," Taurus said. "I am sorry for being so—"
"Bullheaded," Rachel finished his statement. Her head was brought up from her knees, but she remained curled up in a ball. She smiled at the minotaur. Taurus returned the smile belatedly.
"You have a horrible sense of humor," Taurus said looking away.
"It's better than not having one," Rachel retorted. If the night was a little lighter, Rachel could have seen Taurus roll his eyes in defeat.
Rachel leaned over, allowing her weight to rest against Taurus's arm. Taurus jerked. "Thanks for saving my life tonight."
"You're welcome," Taurus answered. "It is my job."
"I guess I owe you," Rachel said, standing up. "Since you seemed so obsessed with debt."
"I like pancakes," Taurus answered from his seat.
"Huh?" Rachel said.
"Pancakes, as in breakfast," Taurus said.
"Actually, I was thinking more in the line of waffles," Rachel said with a chuckle. "Or French Toast."
"Waffles?" Taurus asked.
"Pancakes' older, crispy brothers," Rachel answered. "And we'll add some blueberries to them, just to make the debt equal. After all, my life is worth more than just plain waffles. Maybe we'll toss in some Cool Whip too, just to be safe."
"I do not think it's worth that much," Taurus stated deadpan.
"What?" Rachel gagged.
"I was only joking," Taurus said.
"You're not very good at it," Rachel said. "I'm not laughing."
"Who was the one with the bull joke earlier?" Taurus responded matter-of-factly as he stood up. He wiped the grit off of his legs. Rachel did not respond. She stood only a few feet away from him with her arms wrapped around herself. It was chilly and windy up on the roof. The spring air carried a bite to it. Taurus, dressed in his harness and kilt, shivered.
"Let's go in," Rachel said.
"I have had enough excitement for one night," Taurus stated following her down the ladder.
He yawned loudly as he stretched, clearing out his lungs. It was a bellow, Rachel jumped as she opened the sliding door of her balcony. The numerous barking dogs in the neighborhood silenced simultaneously. Windows opened and there was startled chatter from nearby apartments.
"I'm ready to retire in for the night," Taurus answered, cracking his shoulders. Rachel smiled.
"That's good," Rachel said. "I was thinking about tomorrow night. And I've got some great things planned. Get rested up. I've got a lot of things I want you to see."
Smiling in the corner of his mind, Taurus could only imagine what tomorrow had in store for him.
"Exuse me, Rachel," Taurus said as they walked into living room, "what exactly is in pepperoni?"
The Song is "Paint it Black" by Rollingstones. It's just a fun song. I felt it was better than "Broken".