gemini shawty - Thanks for the review! To a point, I understand your frustrations with Sally. She's selfless to a point where she completely loses sight of what's good for herself, that's how I see it. Yes, most of Percy's trauma stems from Gabe, absolutely. But, Sally suffered through an unhappy marriage and physical and mental abuse from Gabe for as long as she did because she wanted Percy's scent covered. I see it as her being so afraid of the thought of not being able to have her son with her. And whenever I reread the Lightning Thief, or even watch the movie for that matter, I get so frustrated with the fact that Sally sees so clearly what Percy deserves, yet she doesn't see that she deserves those same things for herself. Yet, Percy does the same thing, too. And it makes Percy's fatal flaw of selflessness and compassion make sense. Hopefully, this chapter will smooth that over. And I'm flattered you think they should hire me to write for the show. But in the meantime, I'll just aspire to audition for a role like Silena, Thalia, or Artemis (I'll go for the goals that might be attainable once I get with an acting agency)
Guest - Thank you!
Chapter 3: Grover Loses His Pants
Silena Beauregard hadn't expected an Iris message from Grover Underwood at eleven AM, just as she was about to put her pearl-colored Pegasus, Psyche, away into the stables. After dismounting her horse, she gently tugged on Psyche's reigns to guide her back into the stables so she could groom her and get her settled in. She'd just taken Psyche on a quick flight across the Long Island Sound so she could stretch her legs – and wings for that matter. It was something Silena had become accustomed to doing every morning. And while she couldn't speak horse, she did know Psyche loved their daily flights around the beach.
Psyche had been her personal steed for the past two years. She recalled the day Psyche had been born in the stables of Camp Half-Blood, and how instantaneously, the foal had felt an instant connection with the head of Aphrodite. From that day forward, the Pegasus had declared Silena hers, and Silena, likewise, was inseparable from her horse. In fact, Silena had chosen the name for her. She recalled that Annabeth and Luke had been present when she'd named her horse.
"I was thinking Psyche? You know, like Cupid and Psyche."
It was why she was a year-rounder, because she never allowed anyone else to ride Psyche, ever. The only other one she ever allowed to ride on her horse was her boyfriend, a nod to the story of how Cupid had been born to the Roman versions of their parents – Hephaestus and Aphrodite – who in the Roman stories were known as Vulcan and Venus. She just knew when the day came for her to attend college, her heart would break at the thought of leaving her personal steed behind in the stables.
Psyche whinnied as Silena fed her a handful of beats – which she'd had Luke smuggle into the camp for her. Beat root being Psyche's favorite treat, it was very rare Silena was able to get it for her.
"Here, girl," she whispered to her steed of choice, "it's been a while since you've had beat root, right gorgeous?"
Psyche whinnied happily and nuzzled her softly, wrapping a wing around Silena's shoulders in an unmistakable hug. Silena petted her snout gently, when she saw the shimmer of the rainbow coming through. Upon catching sight of Grover's pale face, she feared to hear the worst.
"Grover?" she asked him.
"Bad news, Silena," Grover said, biting his lower lip. He looked near tears.
"What's wrong?" she asked gently, but even she couldn't help the gut-feeling that something bad had happened the other day. Psyche instantly nuzzled her again, neighing slightly and stomping her hooves on the ground a little.
"Shhh, it's okay, girl," Silena murmured to her horse, rubbing Psyche's mane.
"I . . . I kind of lost Percy," Grover admitted, abashed.
"What do you mean you 'lost Percy'?" Silena asked, trying to keep her voice down.
"He ditched me the minute we got to the bus terminal!" Grover said, sniffling and starting to cry. "I mean . . . we saw the Fates out on the highway, and . . .!"
Upon hearing those words, a shiver went down Silena's spine. She hoped and prayed that that wouldn't happen. Of course, she knew of the Great Prophecy – while she didn't know the full extent to it, she did know it had something to do with a child of the Big Three. And if Percy were involved . . .
"Oh, Styx," whispered Silena, feeling her own face grow pale. "The Great Prophecy . . ."
"One of them snipped the yarn," explained Grover.
"And you're afraid it's Percy's lifeline?" Silena asked, clutching harder on Psyche's reigns.
Grover nodded. "They never get past sixth grade."
"Grover, we won't let this be a repeat of what happened with Thalia," Silena tried to assure him. "You will find him, and you'll bring him here. I know you can do it!"
"But I've already failed!" Grover said, trying to keep his voice from trembling. "This was my second chance, Silena! The Council –"
"Why do you care what the Council thinks?" Silena asked.
"You know what my lifelong dream is," Grover said.
"But you shouldn't need someone's approval to protect demigods," Silena insisted. "You're a good protector and a good friend. Please, just calm down, and get on Percy's trail. Once you catch his scent, you'll be able to find him. I know you will."
Luckily, her words seemed to bring Grover the slightest hint of comfort. She'd unknowingly laced some charmspeak in her voice, and it somehow it managed to reach Grover. He seemed calmer than he did when he called her.
"Yeah, you're right, Silena. Thank you," he told her.
"What are friends for?" she asked him, her eyes flickering from blue to a beautiful shade of pure green – the color of the forest. Even her hair changed from her usual thick, dark brown hair with highlights of blonde to a shade of strawberry blonde – a side effect of her powers which allowed her to change her appearance at will. Sometimes, it simply changed without her even wanting it to. But more often than not, she stuck with Charlie's favorite look for her – her dark hair highlighted and her crystal blue eyes.
She smiled as the rainbow shimmered, fading away. But as it faded, she heard Luke approaching her from behind. Turning around, she asked, "How much did you overhear?"
"Enough," Luke said, running his hand through his sandy hair. "I hope Grover finds the kid alright."
"So do I," Silena said, playing with Psyche's reigns as she led her steed into the stables. Upon Psyche being by her stall, she grabbed the brushes and began grooming her horse. Reaching into her jeans' pocket, she pulled out some bows and wildflowers she'd picked near the beach. Upon Psyche getting a glimpse of it, she nickered happily.
"Yeah, I know girl. You love it when I give you makeovers," grinned Silena, brushing along Psyche's fur gently before lowering herself down to clean her Pegasus's hooves. Once that was done, she combed Psyche's mane and began braiding it softly, her nimble fingers working quickly and precisely.
"Luke," Silena said, closing her eyes as her hair color suddenly changed again – this time to a shade of blue black. When her eyes opened they were a shade of gold. "Do you think this boy could be the one from the Prophecy? Because if he is, he's in real trouble. Every one of Hades's monsters will be out to kill him if he is. I mean, Chiron told me he'd thought it had been Thalia, but if this kid is one of those Big Three kids –"
Silena's voice trembled as it trailed off. Even Psyche nickered nervously.
"We better hope not," Luke said, not even hiding the bitterness in his tone. "You know how much I hate prophecies."
"We all do," Silena said in agreement. "I still remember the last time we –"
"Hey, don't blame yourself," Luke said, shaking his head.
"Still, if I hadn't been such a chicken shit and just done my job –"
"I don't hold you responsible, Sil," Luke told her firmly. "We were all in that quest together. You, me, and Beckendorf. I promise you, Silena; we won't be pawns in a game of chess ever again."
The way Luke said those words sent a slight amount of unease through Silena. Looking at her old friend, she saw a flicker of anger there in his blue orbs.
"Luke, I know you hate talking about your dad," she said, "but harboring resentment won't do anything."
Luke swallowed, but Silena could tell he wasn't even considering her words. "You're right," he said. "Thanks. For just being there."
"I'll always be there, Luke," Silena assured him, "you're my friend." She reached over and squeezed his shoulder.
Luke nodded, exiting the stables. But as he walked off, Silena couldn't help reflecting on the bitterness in Luke's voice when he mentioned the "pawns in a game of chess" analogy. What did he mean by that?
Psyche whinnied nervously, nuzzling Silena's hair slightly and nodding her head nervously in Luke's direction. Looking at her horse, she saw Psyche looked nervous and untrusting of Luke. Not that that surprised her. While Silena couldn't speak horse, she could read emotions from other people due to her capacity for empathy. And her bond with Psyche was strong, maybe even stronger than her relationship with her boyfriend.
"It's okay, girl," Silena murmured, "he's just bitter. He'll get over it eventually."
Psyche whinnied again. Silena could feel the emotions radiating off her steed. But luckily, a few sugar cubes, carrots, and some strokes of Psyche's muzzle calmed her down. Silena just kissed her horse's head softly before continuing to braid her mane. By the time she finished, Psyche had fresh wildflowers and beautiful ribbons streaming down in fishtail braids. Once satisfied that Psyche was well-groomed, Silena led her horse back into her space, locking up behind her.
"See you later," she said, exiting the stables.
Percy grunted as he hauled the last suitcase into Gabe's Camaro. He knew how much his step-father despised the thought of being without his Camaro for a whole week. But Percy was looking forward to a week away from Gabe and his abuse of him and his mother. A week away from Gabe was a vacation in itself.
As soon as his mom was done cooking enough food to last Gabe the whole week – pizza, chili, lasagna, and enchiladas in the freezer and seven-layer dip in the refrigerator – she and Percy immediately began hauling their bags out of the apartment. But Gabe made it a point to puff his cigar right in Percy's face and make sure Percy got a whiff of his breath – stinking with beer, moldy garlic pizza, and beans. It was enough to make the boy nauseous.
Once Percy was done putting the last suitcase into the trunk, Gabe stalked up to his and grabbed him by a fistful of his hair, forcing the boy to look him in the eye.
"Not one scratch, brain boy," he whispered, spitting directly in his step-son's face, "not one scratch."
Percy wanted to retort, "Yeah right! Like I'd be driving." But he knew that would be the wrong thing to say. He didn't want to get one of Gabe's beatings ever again. He still had a scar on his stomach from when Gabe had broken a beer bottle across his torso when he was ten.
Percy just nodded back the best he could. "Okay," he said, "not one scratch. I swear to God."
But Gabe didn't let Percy go without at least one last gesture. Gabe made it a point to grab the boy's jaw and squeeze it, hard enough to bruise his face. He spat one last time before lumbering off. But Percy just glared at Gabe as he watched his step-dad climb the stairs.
"Kiss my ass," he muttered under his breath, waving off his hand. But what happened next was strange. He watched as the door slammed into Gabe's butt and knocking him to the ground on the way inside, the door shuttering shut. It could have been the wind or a freak accident with the hinges. But Percy just looked towards Sally to drive off toward Montauk. He didn't want to stick around to find out.
He climbed into the passenger's side and plugged his earbuds into his ears, his iPod instantly playing an Imagine Dragons song. With that, he slumped into his seat as his mother drove towards the beach. He watched from the corner of his eye as years of worry and age seemed to melt from his mother's features. She reached over and she squeezed his hand gently, her eyes sparkling softly.
By the time they got to Montauk, it was almost evening time. Driving through the windy roads of Montauk, Sally smiled a little wider at her son as he pulled his earbuds out of his ears.
"Here we are," she said, a light laugh in her voice as she parked up in front of the pastel-colored box she and Percy would stay in whenever they came here. It was their favorite cabin to rent, but almost no one wanted to stay in it. Sally never said it, but the beach was so special to her because it was where she'd met Percy's father.
Together, they hauled their bags into the house and deep-cleaned, brushing spiders out of the cabinets, cleaning away the cobwebs, and dusting down all the furniture. They cleared the sand out of the sheets from the huge, king-sized bed and changed the bed to some fresh sheets. They swept the floor and once satisfied the cabin was clean, Percy and his mom proceeded to walk along the beach. Percy simply changed into his swim trunks and racer shirt – standard when he was on his school swim team. He always loved being in water.
As soon as he and his mom were changed into swim wear – his mom wearing a one-piece, blue bathing suit, they laid out blankets on the sands of the beach. But as soon as Percy caught sight of the freezing cold ocean, he ran towards the waves and dove in, allowing the water to wet his hair and for the salt of the ocean to brush against his skin. He stretched himself out like a cat.
After taking his quick swim in the waters, he walked back to the beach towel and laid beside his mother, who was reading a paperback novel. Her feet dug into the sands of the beach, and she looked so happy – happier than she'd been in a really long time.
"Mom?" Percy whispered as she dug her hand into a bag of blue corn tortilla chips. "What was Dad like?"
Sally's eyes seemed to sparkle as she began to talk. "He was kind, Percy," she said, "tall, handsome, and powerful, but gentle, too. I met him here, at this beach. And . . . it was so perfect. You have his black hair, you know, and his green eyes – those eyes . . . so beautiful. I wish he could see you now, Percy. He would be so proud of you."
'Proud of me?' thought Percy bitterly. 'Really? A hyperactive dyslexic kid who can't even stay in one school? Yeah, some pride and joy I am. I'm a loser.'
As if she could read the mind of her son, Sally whispered, "Percy, you really have no idea how important you are."
"Because I'm not normal," he replied bitterly.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," she chided softly. "But it's not. You're more powerful than you believe, honey."
Silence swept over the mother and son, before Percy whispered, "How old was I? When he left us?"
"He was only with me the summer, honey. Right here. At this beach. This cabin."
"But . . . he knew me as a baby."
"No, sweetie. He knew I was expecting a baby, but he never saw you."
Sally's eyes glazed over with tears at the thought, and Percy's eyes stung as well. This whole time, he could have sworn his father had seen him at least once. He had a distinct memory of his father's face – a warm glow and a smile, warm and gentle.
"So, he did abandon us," he said.
"Honey, no," Sally whispered, reaching over and stroking his hair softly. "He was forced to. When he learned I was going to have you, he was so excited – he loved you even before you were born. Leaving me with you was probably the hardest thing he ever had to do."
Percy swallowed hard. "Why did he have to go on that stupid ocean voyage? You should be married to someone who puts you on a pedestal . . . someone who cares about both of our happiness. Not to Smelly Gabe."
Sally bit her lower lip. Whenever Percy brought this up, he could see the waves of guilt wash over her. Her eyes looked so sad and so far away. But Percy couldn't help it. He was on a roll. He didn't know why his mother settled for such a disgusting pig who treated her like garbage.
"You deserve better than him!" Percy continued. "Why don't you see what you deserve, Mom? You should be treated like a queen, married to someone with billions of dollars so you could live your dream of being an author! Gabe should kiss your ass because you're the one going to work every day! He is a spoiled, lowly bast –"
"Sweetheart," Sally whispered, cutting him off gently. Her voice trembled slightly. "You – You have no idea. It's not that simple."
"I still don't know why you care what he thinks," Percy spat, glaring slightly and feeling angry at his father for leaving him and his mother alone. "You deserve better than him. Besides, where will I be going to school for seventh grade?"
"I don't know yet, baby," Sally whispered, "I'll figure something out. I have to send you farther away."
"Because you don't want me around?"
Sally started to cry at that, and Percy immediately regretted those words. "Mom, I'm sorry," he said.
"Percy, of course I want you around. I want to keep you close to me. But sending you away, it was the only way to keep you safe."
"Safe? From what?" Percy asked her.
"All I've ever done was try to protect you," Sally whispered, her eyes glazing over as Percy recalled a memory . . . one of his earliest ones . . .
Four-year-old Percy yawned as he lied down on his cot for an afternoon nap. The pre-school teacher had already called lights out and put on soft music to lull the children to sleep. But as Percy closed his eyes, he heard a soft hissing sound that seemed to come from his cot . . .
Looking down, he saw lying next to him was a slithering, scaly python, hissing at him. Its beady, black eyes seemed to aura hatred at him. As soon as Percy saw the snake, he reached his meaty little hands towards it and grabbed it by the neck, playfully.
'Where did the snake come from?' he thought innocently as he playfully squeezed the snake and shook it fiercely. He distinctly heard the other children screaming in terror as he just played roughly, not seeming to care.
He shook the snake, as if to check whether it was real or not. He didn't know when the snake had stopped breathing, but he heard his mom's horrified screams as he suddenly noticed the snake was limp in his hands, dead coils of leathery scales surrounding him.
That was just one example of all the unsafe things that had happened to him. That day was just a taste of all the unsafe things that were to come his way.
"But Percy, your father told me of a place for you . . . the only safe place in the world for you," Sally whispered.
"A school?" Percy inquired.
"Not a school. A summer camp," Sally said, tears rolling down her face. Percy, hardly able to stand watching his mom cry, moved closer to her.
"But, why would my dad talk to you about a summer camp?" Percy asked.
"Because . . . he knew what would happen. But I couldn't bear to send you there. It might mean me never seeing you again."
"But . . . if it's only a summer camp . . ."
"Percy, please," Sally pleaded, "can we stop talking about it?"
Percy looked in her eyes and saw how broken she looked over it. He decided not to press it further. And as the sun began to tint the sky pink, Percy knew it was time they get dinner started. Rising from their towel, Sally led Percy back to the cabin and she started a fire, allowing them to roast hot dogs and s'mores. And as the sky grew darker in color around them, Percy allowed himself to relax. He was determined not to tell his mom about the old ladies or Mrs. Dodds – he didn't want to ruin his and his mother's vacation. All he wanted was to just think about having fun, so his mom could enjoy her first vacation in almost three years.
In the night, Grover finally caught Percy scent as he panted, hard. He'd ditched his jeans awhile ago, trusting the darkness of the night would be enough to hide his true form – goat legs from the waist-down. But he remained clutching his crutches just in case those ever came in hand.
"Gotta find Percy," he thought, placing his hands on his knees as he gasped for air. But looking above him, he saw the clouds growing even blacker and rain beginning to pelt down.
"Oh, Styx," he whispered, catching a whiff of Percy's smell – a distinct scent of the ocean, but it was heavily covered by his step-father's atrocious stench. It was nearly enough to make the young satyr gag in disgust. But he knew that there was no time. He had to find Percy before someone else did.
In the distance, he saw something – heard the figure bellowing loudly in the night.
Closing his eyes, Grover shuddered at the thought.
"Why did you leave the bus stop, Perce?" he thought, shaking his head as he kept on running, determined to find his friend. There was no time. He had to get Percy to Camp Half-Blood. And it had to happen tonight. He recalled his earlier conversation with Silena. She'd assured him he hadn't failed yet. But already, Grover was feeling like a pretty massive failure.
Hooves pounding into the ground underneath him, he caught Percy's scent even stronger than before.
At the Big House in Camp Half-Blood, Silena Beauregard and Charles Beckendorf were up speaking to their activities director and mentor – Chiron – who'd placed himself within Yancy Academy as Percy Jackson's Latin teacher. Silena had her hands wrapped around a mug of tea with milk and honey, and she was dressed in her hot pink and white lounge shorts and hoodie – her usual pajamas. Charlie just remained shirtless and wearing a pair of sleep pants, his huge, muscled arm wrapped protectively around Silena's shoulders.
"So, he's definitely a child of the Big Three?" Silena whispered.
"His scent is very particular, Silena," Chiron whispered, scratching his scruffy beard. "But I still do not know what to make of him. I just know there's something special about the boy. He handled a sword very well and he followed his instincts. That alone speaks volumes."
"But do you think he's the answer to the Great Prophecy?" asked Beckendorf with concern. "This kid is only twelve – will be thirteen in August from what you told us. How will he take it?"
"I'm not telling him yet," Chiron said, "and I expect you both not to tell him a word about it."
"But Chiron, he needs to know!" Silena insisted.
"Silena, the boy needs more time," Chiron said gently. "Promise me you won't say a word to him. Swear it upon the River Styx."
"I . . . I swear on the River Styx," Silena stammered.
"Me too, swear on the Styx," agreed Beckendorf, even though he didn't like it one bit.
Chiron nodded. However, he noticed a glint in the atmosphere – a sign of someone being invisible.
"Alright, Annabeth," he whispered, "I know you're listening."
Annabeth Chase removed her New York Yankees cap of invisibility – a twelfth birthday present from her mom, Athena. She rematerialized before them, wearing an orange camp t-shirt and a pair of white-and-grey owl pajama shorts, as well as her owl-head slippers. Her blonde curls were pulled back in a ponytail, and her grey eyes seemed very tired. Nonetheless, she'd been there eavesdropping.
"So, he really is the one?" she asked, hopefully as she played with her camp necklace.
"Annabeth, don't get your hopes up," Beckendorf told her softly. "We don't know much about this kid."
"But he fought one of the Furies!" Annabeth said. "And he lived! That's got to mean something!"
Annabeth sounded so hopeful, Beckendorf and Silena didn't have the heart to argue with her. They knew how badly Annabeth was dying to go on a quest. She wanted to go out in the real world and prove herself to her mother. Annabeth, much like Athena, had very high standards. It was her dream to be the best architect in the world – to fight the biggest, ugliest monsters the world had to offer. For a twelve-year-old girl, Annabeth was ambitious – maybe too ambitious.
"Annabeth," Chiron told her gently, "I know you want to believe this boy could be the answer. But we cannot be sure."
"But Chiron! Can't you at least tell me about the summer solstice?" Annabeth pleaded. "Please? We only have a few weeks! What was stolen?"
"Annabeth, have you been listening in on all conversations?" asked Beckendorf incredulously.
Annabeth's face went two shades redder. "Maybe."
"I cannot say much, dear," Chiron said, walking off to the kitchen to fix Annabeth a cup of hot chocolate with extra mini marshmallows – her favorite beverage, as Annabeth sat on the sofa next to Silena. "But when the time is right, I'll tell you."
"But I can help, you know?" Annabeth said. "I'm not too young!"
"Yes, you are," Silena said sternly. "I was too young when I went to the Garden of Hesperides with Luke and Charlie. I was only fourteen, and because of my failure –"
"Our failure," Beckendorf corrected her gently.
"Yeah," Silena said with a nod, "we haven't been allowed any more quests. And you don't know half of what Charlie, Luke and I dealt with going across the country. The things that we faced – they were horrible. I still have nightmares about running into one of the three Gorgons. I met Medea. If I weren't resistant to charmspeak, she easily could've manipulated me. But she turned Charlie and Luke against each other."
"Agreed," Beckendorf said. "It's not fun and games, Annabeth. That shit's real. I know you fantasize about it. But it's not at all glamorous. Half the time you don't feel very heroic."
Annabeth went silent at that. Of course, Beckendorf, Luke, and Silena never talked much about their journey to the Garden of Hesperides. But still, there was a big part of her that wanted a quest.
"We get it, you want to live on the edge," Beckendorf continued, "but trust me. Time in the forges and building toys for you and the other campers is dangerous enough as is."
Annabeth sighed as Chiron returned with her cup of hot chocolate. She took the mug from Chiron and took a sip – he hadn't even failed at including the whipped cream. She took a sip and breathed deeply.
Suddenly, they heard the loud, clang of the thunder outside. Lightning lit up the dark skies, which were pitch black. Annabeth shuddered, and Silena wrapped an arm around her.
"The gods are pissed," whispered Beckendorf, sighing.
"Well, I hope we find out why, and soon," said Silena, shivering a little as well as she crossed her fingers over her heart and pushed them outward – a sign of warding off evil.
Percy's nightmares that night was the thing that woke him. He recalled his dream perfectly – the dream that woke him with a loud scream of fear . . .
He was out on the beaches of Montauk, the rain and howling winds surrounding him. Flashes of lightning accompanied loud bangs of thunder. Black clouds consumed the skies around him as the waves crashed into the shoreline. But before his eyes, he stood there rooted to the spot, as though his feet were embedded in quicksand. He watched as two beautiful animals fought one another – an eagle and a horse. The horse was a gorgeous black stallion. And the eagle kept going in, trying to poke the horse's eyes out.
But what scared him most of all was a voice, goading them to keep going.
"That's right, my children. Tear each other apart, foolish ones."
Percy wanted to scream, "NO!" But no words came out of his mouth. Then he heard the voice speaking to him.
"You see, little demigod? Your time is near. Make your stand. Join me."
Percy awoke loudly, screaming in terror as he noticed the rain and the harsh winds smacking into the cabin. The whole room shook violently as rain seemed to pour in from the windows. Flashes of lightning were the only thing lighting up the room as his mother awoke next to him, holding him close to her.
"Percy!" she screamed, stroking her fingers through his hair.
"Mom," Percy gasped. "What?"
"It's a hurricane out there!" Sally cried. "We've got to go, now!"
She jumped out of bed, still in her nightgown as she grabbed a jacket and slid it on.
"Go where?" Percy asked, startled as he gulped.
"Away from here," Sally said hastily, grabbing a bag and just throwing clothes into it as they heard the clopping of hooves outside, and loud pounding on the door. Sally yanked it open, only for Percy to see Grover – except he wasn't exactly Grover. Because from the waist down, Percy saw fury legs and cloven hooves. Grover stood there, soaking wet as he stared at Percy, wide-eyed.
"Searching all day and night! What were you thinking?!" he asked.
"Grover, what are you doing here?!" Percy asked.
"Percy, you've gotta tell your mom!" Grover said.
"Percy, what aren't you telling me?" Sally demanded. "Tell me!"
Percy, swallowing hard, said, "When I went to the museum for the field trip . . . my math teacher, Mrs. Dodds . . . she turned into some shriveled up hag and she tried to kill me! And on the bus ride here, I saw three old ladies knitting socks! One of them snipped the yarn."
Sally's face went several shades whiter. She shared a look with Grover. "Grover, get in the car! We're going now!"
"But –!" Percy began to protest.
"Percy, please," Sally pleaded, handing her son a red rain jacket.
"Come on, Perce! It's right behind me! We need to leave!" Grover pleaded, gesturing wildly for his friend to follow him out the door and into the stormy night.