He's Crazy

I heard running footsteps and shouting voices. Strong hands lifted me up; I wanted to protest that the cool stone was fine (thank-you) but, for whatever reason, the words wouldn't form. The hands repositioned me gently, and pressed something cool against my forehead. Silence was replaced with quiet chatter; I reluctantly opened my eyes. Sam, with his boyish smile, was perched behind me.

"There. That feels better?"

The sun was absolutely blinding and the wind was too loud: The world's worst hang-over-but-not, courtesy of the Giant's Causeway. Grimacing, I reached up to probe at my scalp and found a proud goose egg and trickle of scarlet blood.

"You were really big," I mumbled.

Sam clucked sympathetically. "A bit of a shock, I guess."

Understatement of the year. His lack of denial was the most frightening thing: More than the possibility that I was insane. Madness you could, theoretically, cure with therapy and drugs. Finding out that metaphysical giants exist dramatically alters one's worldview.

I heard shuffling from my left, and painfully turned my head to check for the source. Shannon was standing by my boulder/attacker, wringing her hands and looking tearful. Danny was next to her, arms crossed and an anxious expression on his face.

Danny.

All at once, a million images filled my head and I remembered why I had my goose egg: My stomach churned, and I shut my eyes and concentrated on keeping breakfast in my stomach. Hallucinations: Why couldn't it have been hallucinations?

"Could," I chanced – stumbling. "Could Danny and I be alone, please?"

"Of course," Sam said, standing up. "I'll go get you something for the pain – and try to calm Zu-Zu down."

I heard footsteps and quiet discussion. Danny came over to take Sam's place. I struggled to sit up.

"No – please," he objected, trying to push me down. "You should lie down."

"I don't want to lie down." With some help, I managed to get upright. The cold cloth on my forehead dropped into my lap. I noted that, even though it was ice cold, it wasn't wet.

We sat looking at each other, faces mirroring each other's misery.

"I'm – so sorry," Danny's voice, when he finally spoke, was hoarse. I missed its low chuckle. "I didn't intend for you to find out this way."

"Find out what?" I stated calmly. "That you're a closet giant?" My mind raked through the images, painfully trying to make sense of what I had seen: Twelve gigantic figures, vaguely human but most certainly not. He had been water. "You're – " what word? " – a god?"

Part of me was praying that I was in a nightmare; the larger portion was waiting for confirmation. This was more than horse-whispering.

He nodded. My stomach curled again.

"Tell me what this means," I said, forcing a steady breath, remembering my mother's teaching – In the nose, out the mouth. "Who are you?"

He hesitated. "Danny?" No – not good enough. "My name – the most popular one – is Poseidon. Ruler of seas, earthquakes, and horses."

"A Greek God?"

"Not – Greek specifically. Endill for the Norse; Welsh Llŷr; Amimitl – my favourite's Nootaikok. Embodied element."

Embodied element: Once, in high school, a teacher said "You're probably drinking dinosaur piss." Water was eternal – vast – deadly. It had nothing in common with Danny.

"I am so sorry!" he repeated, shaking his head and staring out the cliff. "I shouldn't have let things progress – not this far, at least. It was – silly. Thinking of a normal relationship."

His eyes were distant: It gave me a moment to examine him – twenty-five years old, jeans and polo shirt, swimmer's physique, and movie-star-handsome looks. He was someone you'd double-take on the sidewalk: Then you'd blush, giggle into a friend's ear, and continue walking. A third glance would turn him into a curiosity. And the fourth – "an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a taco." Eyes that echoed the ocean.

"Poseidon," I tried out, recruiting my mother's Ancient Greek lessons. He looked over, face utterly desolate. "It suits you – better than Danny, at least."

He gave a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "How's your head?"

"I – I could really use a hug," I blurted. Forget the head: I was miserable, he was miserable, and we both could use some comfort. "Could – ?"

He looked stunned, as though he'd been expecting me to bolt down the cliff again, but nodded and crab-walked to my side. Then he enfolded me in his arms, and buried his face in my hair, stroking it gently with one of his hands. He choked, "I'm sorry – I'm so, so sorry."

Crying was a horrible idea: The slightest movement made my head throb harder. I settled on silent tears, clinging to Poseidon as hard as I possibly could, breathing in his ocean-breeze scent. We stayed there for a long time, until Sam returned with a polite cough. I sat back and wiped my cheeks.

"Here's a soothing solution for you, Allison," he said, looking terribly apologetic. "It'll help with your headache, and the bumps."

I eyed the glass he held, and wondered if it would settle my crumbling stomach – or if it tasted like cherry. "Thank you," I said, taking it and sipping cautiously. It wasn't cherry; more of a sweet herb mixture. My headache dulled immediately.

"Apollo," Sam said formally, sticking out his hand. I stored the name for future processing.

"I've ruined your meeting, haven't I?"

"Meeting?" Apollo asked, face blank.

"Twelve mythological beings, summer solstice," I muttered. "I'm not completely stupid."

"I didn't mean – " he said quickly. "No. Sorry. It's fine. They've continued."

"Oh." I glanced at Poseidon, who had returned to staring at the surf. "You should probably go."

"No way," he said firmly. "I'm getting you home first. Someone will fill me in later – there's not any urgent business."

Apollo didn't seem too impressed, but left – vanished into the air – with a nod. We left a few minutes later, Poseidon nearly carrying me, both of us quiet and subdued, eventually buckling me into the car and taking the driver's seat. "Are you all right?" he asked after a half-hour, just as the village came into sight.

"I what way?" I joked, not feeling at all funny. "Physically? Mentally? Emotionally?"

"Well – is your headache worse?"

"No."

"Alright."

Mrs. Leary didn't ask any questions as we stumbled into the hostel, though – by her amused expression – she must have interpreted the scene as being something entirely different from what it was. "As for the rest of me?" I continued, not complaining as he deposited me on the squeaky bed, "I don't know. I guess – the world's not what I thought it was. I don't know."

Poseidon was studying his feet; I wondered where his clothes had come from, as he most certainly had not been dressed while in 'gargantum form.' "Tell me what you want. I'll leave right now and not come back, if that's what you want me to do. – Or a day, or a month, or a year to think. Just don't lead me on." He looked up, a sickly smile on his face. "Zeus is omnipotent – but I'm not naïve."

I was horrified. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Look," he said quietly, "the smart thing to do would be to go back home, and forget about me."

I laughed then sobered, a lump steadily growing in my throat and a million questions floating around my brain. At the forefront: Why? "You can give me some time."

"OK. How long?"

"A week, I guess," I ventured. The flight for New York left tomorrow evening: Seven days would be enough time to mope around my apartment. "I don't know how long it takes to decide something like this. I've never done it before."

"Of course. I'll – be in touch with you a week from today."

He walked towards the window, as if he was going to jump out. "Poseidon …"

"Hmm?"

God: What could you say?

"I still love you."

"That's good," he said hoarsely. "Because I love you, too."

And suddenly Poseidon was gone, with only a puddle on the floor to indicate that he had ever been there.

My dreams that night were riddled with giants and mythological creatures, and seagulls that could talk. Waking up wasn't much better: Apollo's magical tincture had worn-off, and my entire body – not just my head – ached horribly. The gods - all of them - had left overnight. The bus ride from the village to Dublin was hot and jostling; the airport was stuffy; when the plane finally lifted off it felt that my eyeballs were going to explode – and then there was the ten-ton weight crushing my heart. My one comfort was a double-dose of painkillers, courtesy of the woman sitting next to me. The taxi ride from the airport to my front door passed in a blur.

Another cry would have done wonders, and I was just about to crawl into bed when a knock sounded at my door. I struggled into an old NYU sweatshirt, making it to the door in-between the third and fourth round of knocking. The three faces waiting on the other side were a pleasant surprise: Ben, Lucy, and Alba.

"Guys! What? – " I said, shock momentarily masking my mood. "What are you doing here? – Come in!"

I grabbed onto baby Alba, letting Ben and Lucy struggle with the bags. "Summer break," Ben reminded me politely. "Remember?"

"Oh – " but you couldn't curse in front of infants.

"We've been trying to call you for six days."

"I've been away."

"Where?"

"Away," I said again. Ben, ever over-protective, pouted; Lucy caught-on faster, and ordered the bags into my room.

"What happened?" she said, gently pushing me towards the couch. "Danny – ? Where's your tea?"

"Left of the sink. Kettle's on the stove," I mumbled, bouncing Alba on my knee. She was huge now: Seven months old, with huge green eyes and curly red hair. "We're taking a break."

"Oh dear."

I muffled a sob as Ben entered the room, eyebrow raised in concern. "Ally and Danny are taking a break," Lucy explained from the kitchen

"What? But he's crazy for you."

"You need a little space now and then," said Lucy. "Have you had anything to eat today?"

She made sandwiches as the kettle boiled, frowning a bit at my post-vacation supplies: Bread and a bit of mouldy cheese, and frozen cold-cuts. The tea and food helped a bit.

"We're heading to Navani tomorrow morning," Ben said. Even now I couldn't believe that he was going. "Are you still coming?"

"I'm not sure – " an ocean-side cottage and an unsteady relationship with the ocean god probably didn't bode well.

Despite hesitation, we left my apartment the next morning, early enough to beat morning traffic, arriving at Navani shortly before ten. I lingered outside with Alba as Ben gave Lucy the tour, bouncing the baby on my hip and breathing in the sea air. Way out, far across the Atlantic, was Europe: Sometimes pop bottles from Portugal, Spain, and Morocco washed up on the beach. I wondered if Poseidon was aware: Was he this thing that ruled the ocean, the same way a monarch ruled a country, or was he the ocean? If deities existed, did ghosts and vampires? Saints? Souls? The God?

"It's fantastic," Ben said from behind me, looking at Navani with a smile. "You've done an amazing job."

"Your turn to do the repairs, then," I laughed. Technically, Navani – and all its upkeep – was mine; I wouldn't dream of banning Ben over something as small as maintenance. "Tell you what? Let me keep Alba for the week, and we'll be even."

"All week?"

"Until she starts to smell," I winked. "And you have to do the cooking."

I spent the next two days in the one-room community library, Alba chewing on books, reading every possible tidbit on Greek myth. The collection wasn't anywhere close to being complete – largely limited to out-of-print grade school history texts – though provided a clear enough picture. Some legends echoed amazingly true, and I could find my stubborn, kind, and proud Danny lurking within ancient myth. Some I dismissed as pure fantasy. It was downright impossible to overlook the lengthy list of mistresses, rape, bestiality, and offspring:

With: Aethra - Offspring: Theseus

Alope - Hippothoon

Amphitrite - Rhode, Triton, Benthesikyme

Amymone - Nauplius

Astypalaea - Ancaeus, Eurpylos

– The "A" section – limited to the Greek and Roman era. What else had transpired over the past two thousand years, and would I – someday in the future – be reduced to just another name on that list?

With: Allison - Offspring: Korina, Panayiotis, Fred

After draining the library's resources, I turned to walking: Alba and I went miles each day, weaving up-and-down the highway, or exploring trails that I wasn't allowed on as a child. Most of the time my mind drifted from big question to huge question, totally incapable of producing even a slightly-satisfying answer. On some level, it was like a colour-blind man trying to figure out what "blue" looked like.

"Blue looks like the sky."

"But the sky is red."

Some things about this new world made my head hurt.

Happy End of Final Exams, to all my fellow Uni students!!! Next chapter will be up Sunday the 1st!