He sat on the shore, as he always did, in his ragged clothes. His bare feet no longer felt the sand, calluses having covered them. His sandals had been abandoned so long ago...where had they gone? He wondered for a moment, but then turned to the issue at hand. This day marked his second year of imprisonment on Calypso's island. She had surprised him when she announced it that morning, not because it seemed like a long time, but rather because it seemed so short.
At first he had enjoyed lazing around the island, it is true. He had feasted all day and slept soundly all night next to the radiant goddess. But then his thoughts wandered to his home and he was sad, for he missed his wife and young son. It had been so long since he had seen them last - ten years of fighting and now four of wandering.
"You will not get home by sitting home and whining," he reprimanded himself. "You need a plan. But she has thwarted all your plans...you have whined, begged, pleaded, and even ordered her to let you go."
Suddenly a new thought struck him. Why ask her at all? Why not just go? He laughed aloud at his own silliness. Immediately he stood up and brushed the sand from his clothes. He could gather supplies and build a small boat and be off the island and on his way home in a month! He'd have to be careful, though. If Calypso found out, she'd be furious. As a goddess, she could do almost anything she wanted to him.
That night when she called him to dinner he hardly tasted the lavish food or noticed her dazzling form. His mind was full with plans. He had seen many ships, but would he be able to make one? In his head he sketched blueprints for what he hoped would be a sea-worthy vessel to bring him home.
Calypso saw that his attention wandered, but made no comment, even when he claimed thirst and snuck wine jars from her great stores. He continued to pilfer food and secretly gather driftwood for many days. She watched him with great interest, laughing as he pretended to knock over baskets of rolls and smiling when she saw him slink off to his bit of beach, which she purposely never visited. Once he surprised her by actually removing a sack of grain without eliciting notice. She discovered the lack three days later, and rewarded his cleverness with an extra serving of meat that night.
Soon she tired of watching his shrewd plans, and became angry with him. He no longer flattered her or spent any more time with her than strictly necessary. Before, they used to have such fun volleying words back and forth. He had been so kind, too, praising everything about her, but especially her long, beautiful hair. He used to brush it for her, from time to time, when she asked.
At last his boat was done. He had stowed away the finest of her stores, taken when he thought she was not looking, and tested the boat many times when he thought she was asleep. He decided he should depart at first light the next day. He was unusually jovial that night, drinking cup after cup of the dark wine. Calypso joined him as he celebrated what he thought was his last night there.
The sun rose, as always, in the east, and Odysseus slipped out bed and into his clothes. All his possessions were packed and he was ready to go. As he was about to leave the room, he paused and looked back at Calypso, feigning a peaceful sleep. Something stirred inside him and he strode back to the bed. He looked at her perfect, round face and shining hair. On an impulse he kissed her cheek, then hurried out of the room before he could see a blush creep into her cheeks.
She counted to thirty before rising and dressing. She peered through a window until he was out of sight, then raced through the shortcut she had discovered. She arrived in his hidden cove long before he did, and sat in wait for her prey. For her this was a happy occasion, a chance to outsmart the great Odysseus. And outsmart him she did.
He bounded into the cove and hopped into his boat. He ate a quick breakfast, talking to himself, as had become his habit.
"I will miss this place, and Calypso, it is true...but, oh! To see my wife and home again! And my son! He must be a great man by now. I have missed his childhood, but what a childhood it must have been! I am sure he will take after me."
He licked the last crumbs from his fingers and climbed into the boat. It was Calypso's cue, and she rose to the part perfectly.
"What is this, my Odysseus? Leaving so soon? Surely you have not tired of my company already!"
She came out from her hiding place and revealed herself to him. Odysseus, thinking quickly on his feet, said,
"I would never tire of you, dear Calypso! I merely fancied a sail, to see if I couldn't catch some fish for our supper which do not come near the shore!"
"And you didn't think to bring me along? Goddesses can be very good luck." She smiled at him, seeing through his story, and stepped closer to the boat. "But what is this? So much food for a leisurely sail? I think you were leaving me, Odysseus."
"Ah, my lady, you know it is not so. I have too much respect for the gods and goddesses for that. What can I do to prove my innocence to you?"
He had been discovered, there was no chance for him to leave now. But still, he hoped that if she could only be persuaded to be kind to him, he could leave another time and still use the boat. Alas, his hopes were in vain.
"Destroy the boat. Take it apart plank by plank and burn the wood. You have no need to fish here - and did you not say you disliked the taste of fish?"
His spirits dropped, but he smiled as if there was nothing he would love to do more.
"You are right, of course, but don't you think it would be a waste to destroy such a fine ship as this? It is true I have never made one before, but it is not so bad an attempt that it warrants a burning."
"Ah, my wily Odysseus, you would like me to spare your precious boat, wouldn't you? And the food too, I presume? But no, my dear, you must do as I say: burn the boat, and the food, bit by bit. And let me watch so I know that it is done."
She pretended to be angry with him, but inwardly she rejoiced in their exchange. To banter with Odysseus in such a way was truly an honor. And he was so clever! She rather favored the notion that he could even outwit a few of the gods if he set his mind to it - but not her. Nothing short of an order from Zeus would make her relinquish her claim on him now. No, he was hers, her own, her precious, and she would keep him forever...
He interrupted her reverie by noisily prying loose a board from the side of the boat.
"Here you are, my lady. The first board. You may have the honor of setting it afire."
She pointed, and it burst into flame. He added another, and it burned too. Little by little, the boat was destroyed, and Odysseus' confidence in his wit with it. His next plan would have to be cleverer, that's all, he told himself. Much cleverer.
It would be another six years before he made if off Calypso's island, and even then he did not outwit her. Calypso, true to her word to herself, watched him carefully until the fateful day when Zeus' order arrived. She had to let him go. She resisted, but it was in vain and she knew. At last he left her island on a tiny raft, never to return.
She refused to cry in his presence, but as he shrank into the distance the tears welled up in her eyes. Finally, when he was no more than a speck on the horizon, she fell to the sand and dissolved into tears. When the sun finally set on her mourning, she returned to her now-empty house. As she cleaned up after he silent, joyless dinner her hands lingered on his knife. He had left it behind. The blade shimmered in the lamplight. She lifted it, and carefully sliced through her golden locks, grown to her waist to please him. They fell to the floor and at last, she was free.
At first he had enjoyed lazing around the island, it is true. He had feasted all day and slept soundly all night next to the radiant goddess. But then his thoughts wandered to his home and he was sad, for he missed his wife and young son. It had been so long since he had seen them last - ten years of fighting and now four of wandering.
"You will not get home by sitting home and whining," he reprimanded himself. "You need a plan. But she has thwarted all your plans...you have whined, begged, pleaded, and even ordered her to let you go."
Suddenly a new thought struck him. Why ask her at all? Why not just go? He laughed aloud at his own silliness. Immediately he stood up and brushed the sand from his clothes. He could gather supplies and build a small boat and be off the island and on his way home in a month! He'd have to be careful, though. If Calypso found out, she'd be furious. As a goddess, she could do almost anything she wanted to him.
That night when she called him to dinner he hardly tasted the lavish food or noticed her dazzling form. His mind was full with plans. He had seen many ships, but would he be able to make one? In his head he sketched blueprints for what he hoped would be a sea-worthy vessel to bring him home.
Calypso saw that his attention wandered, but made no comment, even when he claimed thirst and snuck wine jars from her great stores. He continued to pilfer food and secretly gather driftwood for many days. She watched him with great interest, laughing as he pretended to knock over baskets of rolls and smiling when she saw him slink off to his bit of beach, which she purposely never visited. Once he surprised her by actually removing a sack of grain without eliciting notice. She discovered the lack three days later, and rewarded his cleverness with an extra serving of meat that night.
Soon she tired of watching his shrewd plans, and became angry with him. He no longer flattered her or spent any more time with her than strictly necessary. Before, they used to have such fun volleying words back and forth. He had been so kind, too, praising everything about her, but especially her long, beautiful hair. He used to brush it for her, from time to time, when she asked.
At last his boat was done. He had stowed away the finest of her stores, taken when he thought she was not looking, and tested the boat many times when he thought she was asleep. He decided he should depart at first light the next day. He was unusually jovial that night, drinking cup after cup of the dark wine. Calypso joined him as he celebrated what he thought was his last night there.
The sun rose, as always, in the east, and Odysseus slipped out bed and into his clothes. All his possessions were packed and he was ready to go. As he was about to leave the room, he paused and looked back at Calypso, feigning a peaceful sleep. Something stirred inside him and he strode back to the bed. He looked at her perfect, round face and shining hair. On an impulse he kissed her cheek, then hurried out of the room before he could see a blush creep into her cheeks.
She counted to thirty before rising and dressing. She peered through a window until he was out of sight, then raced through the shortcut she had discovered. She arrived in his hidden cove long before he did, and sat in wait for her prey. For her this was a happy occasion, a chance to outsmart the great Odysseus. And outsmart him she did.
He bounded into the cove and hopped into his boat. He ate a quick breakfast, talking to himself, as had become his habit.
"I will miss this place, and Calypso, it is true...but, oh! To see my wife and home again! And my son! He must be a great man by now. I have missed his childhood, but what a childhood it must have been! I am sure he will take after me."
He licked the last crumbs from his fingers and climbed into the boat. It was Calypso's cue, and she rose to the part perfectly.
"What is this, my Odysseus? Leaving so soon? Surely you have not tired of my company already!"
She came out from her hiding place and revealed herself to him. Odysseus, thinking quickly on his feet, said,
"I would never tire of you, dear Calypso! I merely fancied a sail, to see if I couldn't catch some fish for our supper which do not come near the shore!"
"And you didn't think to bring me along? Goddesses can be very good luck." She smiled at him, seeing through his story, and stepped closer to the boat. "But what is this? So much food for a leisurely sail? I think you were leaving me, Odysseus."
"Ah, my lady, you know it is not so. I have too much respect for the gods and goddesses for that. What can I do to prove my innocence to you?"
He had been discovered, there was no chance for him to leave now. But still, he hoped that if she could only be persuaded to be kind to him, he could leave another time and still use the boat. Alas, his hopes were in vain.
"Destroy the boat. Take it apart plank by plank and burn the wood. You have no need to fish here - and did you not say you disliked the taste of fish?"
His spirits dropped, but he smiled as if there was nothing he would love to do more.
"You are right, of course, but don't you think it would be a waste to destroy such a fine ship as this? It is true I have never made one before, but it is not so bad an attempt that it warrants a burning."
"Ah, my wily Odysseus, you would like me to spare your precious boat, wouldn't you? And the food too, I presume? But no, my dear, you must do as I say: burn the boat, and the food, bit by bit. And let me watch so I know that it is done."
She pretended to be angry with him, but inwardly she rejoiced in their exchange. To banter with Odysseus in such a way was truly an honor. And he was so clever! She rather favored the notion that he could even outwit a few of the gods if he set his mind to it - but not her. Nothing short of an order from Zeus would make her relinquish her claim on him now. No, he was hers, her own, her precious, and she would keep him forever...
He interrupted her reverie by noisily prying loose a board from the side of the boat.
"Here you are, my lady. The first board. You may have the honor of setting it afire."
She pointed, and it burst into flame. He added another, and it burned too. Little by little, the boat was destroyed, and Odysseus' confidence in his wit with it. His next plan would have to be cleverer, that's all, he told himself. Much cleverer.
It would be another six years before he made if off Calypso's island, and even then he did not outwit her. Calypso, true to her word to herself, watched him carefully until the fateful day when Zeus' order arrived. She had to let him go. She resisted, but it was in vain and she knew. At last he left her island on a tiny raft, never to return.
She refused to cry in his presence, but as he shrank into the distance the tears welled up in her eyes. Finally, when he was no more than a speck on the horizon, she fell to the sand and dissolved into tears. When the sun finally set on her mourning, she returned to her now-empty house. As she cleaned up after he silent, joyless dinner her hands lingered on his knife. He had left it behind. The blade shimmered in the lamplight. She lifted it, and carefully sliced through her golden locks, grown to her waist to please him. They fell to the floor and at last, she was free.