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When Grover got off the plane he headed straight for the beach. He didn’t see any signs or anything telling him, “PAN IS THIS WAY!” He could just sense it, like Medusa’s snakes could sense them in her lair.
Grover followed the feeling of nature to the beach. The feeling of nature was so strong- almost overwhelming. His heart skipped a beat- what if he actually found Pan now? The Council of Cloven Elders would be so proud of him! He would finally be the one who found Pan.
He dashed toward the beach, forgetting his crutches in the excitement. He didn’t need them. He trotted down hurriedly down the path to the beach. His human shoes slowed him down so he held them in his hands. And then it happened.
He ran into something huge. “Sorry sir,” Grover mumbled with a mouthful of sheep wool. He fell backwards onto his rump and sand coated him. Grover stuck out his tongue to get the sheep wool off. He wiped it off his tongue. He realized it was golden wool. And it tasted amazing like a fresh Diet Coke Can.
The huge figure turned around. Grover looked up and gaped. “Poly…Poly…Polyphemus.” He squeaked in a high octave. Every little goat new about Polyphemus, he was every little goat kid’s nightmare. And here he was standing on the beach…holding- could it be? The Golden Fleece.
It struck Grover in an instant. That was why nobody had ever found Pan! The Golden Fleece, could fix everything, make things grow and healthy. It’s essence of power was so much like the wild god Pan’s that every satyr found Polyphemus instead of Pan.
Grover did the sensible thing. He ran. Polyphemus lumbered after him. “Wait!” He bellowed. Grover didn’t know what the mortals saw. He didn’t really care.
A storm was blowing angrily around the satyr, wind and rain tore at palm trees. Yellow and pink stucco buildings lined the street, their windows boarded up. The ocean raged behind him.
Grover didn’t dwell on the fact that this was weird since a moment ago it had been a nice cool night out. Now it was absolutely terrifying. He scrambled as fast as his little goat legs could carry him. His hooves clattered against the pavement and Grover cursed. Be a bit quieter? He willed his hooves to quit clacking.
An awful growl cut through the storm. Behind Grover, at the far back of the street a shadowy figure of Polyphemus loomed above everything else. It swatted aside a street lamp, like it was a plaything, which burst in a shower of sparks.
Grover stumbled on his aching hooves, whimpering in fear. He muttered to himself, “Have to get away. Have to warn them!” He needed to tell the other satyrs about the trap.
He could hear Polyphemus cursing and muttering to himself. He wasn’t being quite about the variety of cuss words he used. The ground shook and Grover almost slid to the side, as he stepped in a pile of mud.
He gazed around wildly. Where could he go? No time to go anywhere else- it would be a dead end. The nearest door had been blown open by the storm. The sign above the display read: ST. AUGUSTINE BRIDAL
BOUTIQUE.
Grover dashed inside, pushing away dresses from his face. At the last moment, he dove behind a rack of wedding dresses. Polyphemus passed right outside the front of the shop.
Grover sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. Polyphemus smelled like death- skunk, sheep wool and rotten meat. Grover wanted to bleat in terror, but he forced himself to be silent. You’ll be fine…He told himself inwardly.
Lightning flashed. The entire front of the store exploded and Polyphemus roared, “MIIIINE!” Grover crouched behind his rack his heart pounding.
His thoughts changed from, You’ll be fine to You’re going to die.
Grover tried to hide- he was nestled inside a wedding dress in a matter of seconds. He grabbed a veil from the nearest rack- it had vines embroidered over it, nice pick, Grover thought- and promptly stuffed it over his head, after throwing his Rasta cap in the corner. It was probably the fastest wardrobe change ever, could have made the Olympics if they had Fastest Dresser races.
Polyphemus wasn’t fooled. “I see you. You smell like goat, pretty lady Cyclops. Are you a goat man? I eat you if you are not, pretty lady.”
Grover closed his eyes tight for a moment. When he opened them, a new plan had formed in his mind. “Um…no I’m not a goat. My, these wonderful wedding dresses in here must be making you very um….” Grover racked his brain for something to say, “Making you have nasal problems.” He finished lamely.
Polyphemus put his hands on his hips, with the Golden Fleece in his other hand. “You can come with me back to my island. Marry me.” The Cyclops pointed a huge hairy finger at himself.
Grover allowed a weak giggle. “Oh that’s so sweet of you! You aren’t on one knee though…it’s just not right to propose without being on one knee.” He said flirtatiously. Polyphemus obviously thought he was a girl. “But you see, I have things I need to do here, and well-”
Polyphemus grunted and his knuckles cracked. Grover gulped. “On the other hand, I’d love to come with you to your island that is hopefully very close to Long Island Sound.” It was too much to hope for.
Polyphemus tilted back his head and laughed a low monstrous rumble. “No pretty lady Cyclops! My island is in the Sea of Monsters.”
Grover searched his mind for where that might be. “The Bermuda Triangle?” He asked his flicker of hope being doused by thoughts of terror. Polyphemus nodded. “But I would protect you! No monster out there bigger or fiercer than me.” He smiled showing all of his ugly rotten teeth.
Grover just wanted to keep searching for Pan, but he couldn’t get out of here without either being eaten or hurt. His only option was to get engaged, and that option didn’t sound to hot either.
Grover could just imagine the ring, gold with maybe a diamond on top with a tint of blue, gleaming like it was polished in a professional store. The thought made him want to faint- that was the exact opposite of natural!
Grover waved his hand in front of his face, the way he thought the ladies might. (He never had practice to do things like that. Grover was pretty sure he was waving it too fast, so it looked like a ceiling fan trying to whack someone’s head off, instead of a dainty “I’m too hot” flap).
“You needn’t protect me,” Grover said in his high pitched voice. “I’ll be fine on my own. I know! Come back for me tomorrow, I need to get er….packed, that’s it! I need to get packed!”
Polyphemus wasn’t buying it. “Look here Lady Cyclops,” He said and bent down. He stuck his head through the opening of the store (he couldn’t fit inside, he was too big). “My island has everything you could ever need! We would be happy and would feast on the yummy goat men that come to my island.”
Grover felt like his insides had been frozen over and then microwaved on HIGH. So, what he had been thinking was true. The other satyrs all died because of this monster.
He had to think fast. Polyphemus would find out he wasn’t a girl soon enough. “Let me just go to the bathroom dear.” Grover forced himself to sound calm and not scream, “SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!!”
He smiled winningly through his veil and ducked into the ladies bathroom. He looked everywhere for a back exit. There was none. Grover could hear Polyphemus outside, waiting.
Maybe he could dash to the back of the store from here and go out the back exit without being seen. He had to try. Grover crept over to the door and opened it slowly.
Then he clip-clopped over to the back exit, making barely any noise, even for satyr ears. But Cyclops had even better hearing. Polyphemus turned around just as Grover opened the back door. The giant monster poked his head into the store. “Honey?” He rumbled. “Where did you go? Are you still in the bathroom?”
Grover risked poking his head back in. “Oh yes- let me just fix my hair and I’ll be right out!” And then he took off running.