Chapter 18: Improbable Possibilities
There were two things that were non-negotiable in my family on Sundays—church and breakfast. We always had a big breakfast at home before we headed to church. Church was one of those tricky things in my family. Dad was Greek Orthodox and mom was Catholic. They decided that they would expose me to both religions and let me decide when I was old enough. This Sunday was Greek Orthodox, which should give me a really good excuse to ask my dad about Greek mythology. I planned on acting more civil at breakfast to show that I was over my Irish temper. As I walked into the kitchen, I saw dad hunched over the paper with his coffee as mom was making pancakes and bacon—my favorite. I sidled up to mom and said, “smells good” as I grabbed a plate and prepared to interrogate dad. Mom seemed pleased and dad looked up and said “morning, sunshine. You hit the hay early. Lucky you, you got to miss our collapse in the fourth quarter again.”
I replied back honestly, “I was exhausted so I’m glad I missed the ritual MSU meltdown. Dad, I think we might have to read The Iliad and The Odyssey in school this year. Can you help me out and give me a brief rundown of Greek mythology this morning?”
Mom groaned and said, “Oh, Calli. What have you gotten us into. Your dad doesn’t know how to be brief when it comes to his Greek mythology.”
“Mimsy, Calliope is finally interested in her rich Greek heritage. Don’t go ruining this moment for me,” dad warned.
To me, he said, “I have our family copy of The Iliad and The Odyssey in the den. The epics are by far Homer’s greatest works. Your namesake, Calliope, which means ‘beautiful voice’ was thought to be Homer’s greatest Muse,” dad explained.
“I thought I was named for mom’s favorite heroine. And what is a Muse anyway?”
Dad smiled and began, “A Muse is a person that inspires another to do great artistic works like writing, painting, or performing. Not only did Calliope have a beautiful voice like you do, but she was the Muse for epic poetry. So to truly appreciate The Iliad and The Odyssey, they must be read out loud. Maybe after we get home from church, we can start reading them together.”
“Ummmm, sure dad, but I’m not singing any of it!” I stated clearly.
Mom laughed and said, “I would stay to here that. You have such a lovely voice Calliope. I never knew why you were so afraid to sing solo. However, I will refrain from saying ‘I told you so, Calli’ for the poems until you finish them. Let’s get moving, or we are going to be late.”
During the car ride, I realized that I had created a monster. My dad had disappeared and in his place was a stranger with a PhD in Greek mythology. It was like he was droning on and on as fast as he could just in case I suddenly lost interest. After the service, mom dropped us off at home as she sped away from the scene of the crime. Dad hustled me to the den, so we could get started with The Iliad first. He sat on the couch next to me, so we could both see the book. He showed me with pride where each family member that owned the text had signed on the inside cover and said, “One day your name will be here Calliope.”
Dad went through the background of The Iliad first. He carefully explained the background of the Trojan War, which was a ten-year siege, not like the movie Troy where it only seems to take a couple of weeks (and which Brad Pitt was pretty hot as Achilles). The Iliad only covered the last few weeks of the Trojan War and mostly focused on a quarrel between King Agamemnon and his best solider Achilles as well as how the gods and goddesses intervened in the war on both sides. This poem was the size of your average trashy novel. This was gonna take forever! Luckily for me, the Lions were about to come on and that distracted dad enough that we called it quits for the day. But he wanted to do a little each night, which I hesitantly agreed. We were in football season, and hockey and basketball would start soon which should keep dad pretty busy. I fled back upstairs to my sanctuary wondering what the flock had I done.
I immediately jumped onto the Internet and started my searches. The first search I performed was for Hermes. I clicked the link with the narrative about Hermes, and there was a picture of a naked statue of Hermes showing his family jewels. Wow! Not something you expect to see directly after church. Wikipedia also confirmed that the god Hermes was indeed the Messenger of the Gods and Guide to the Underworld. It almost equated him to being a shape shifter with all his different roles and identities. My potential suitor also invented fire, which was quite the accomplishment. He was the son of Zeus (God of All Gods) and Maia (a demigod) and was born on Mount Cyllene in Arcadia. But the part that really got to me was that he was linked romantically to at least 23 different women. The main girl he hooked up with was Aphrodite--the flockin goddess of love and beauty!!
To put things in perspective, I checked on my namesake’s rap sheet before I got all worked up. I went to Calliope’s page. Well, at least in my picture, I’m not naked, but I was definitely homely with wavy brown hair, a small mouth, and big nose. Flock….Flock….Flock…..Calliope was also the daughter of Zeus, but her mother was Mnemosyne. So were Hermes and my namesake like half-sibling? Talk about Ick factor. I was definitely not that Calliope because Lethe was my dad not Zeus. But what’s with the coincidence of our mother’s having the same name? Apparently, my namesake had the hots for Ares, the God of War, and they had several sons. OMG, she also had son with Apollo and Oeagrus of Thrace. Flock ……. Flock…………Flock………….. Apparently, the only one she actually married was Thrace. Was my whole life planned out for me and I didn’t even realize it? This was actually worse than having one of those horrible beauty pageant moms that force those little girls into their “destiny.”
On the plus side, Calliope was the most powerful of the nine Muses. She was the muse for heroic poetry, which is why she was also shown carrying a roll of parchment or book. I slowly laid my head on my desk trying to absorb my research so far. Twenty-three flockin consorts—none of them my namesake. Thrace being Calliope’s only husband although not the only father of her children. What did this all mean or did it mean anything? Those were myths. Even though the gods exist, does not mean that their history was correct. Right.
This was a lot to absorb, so it was break time. I wanted to work out and had several options on that front: 1) by myself—probably the healthiest option for all concerned; 2) Thrace—try to mend some fences, but slightly awkward considering I just broke up with him only to find out my namesake married him; 3) Rafe—also awkward considering what a player he was/is since he is the same god. Decisions….Decisions… I guess it’s not too early to start mending fences, especially with school tomorrow, so I took a shot and called Thrace. Unfortunately, there was no answer on his cell, and I didn’t want to call his home number.
To face Rafe or not to face Rafe, that was the question. Since I was not known for my cowardice, I decided to call him. Of course, he immediately picked up and asked, “Did you do your homework yet?”
“You know channeling my mom is not what I call hot. But to answer your question, yes, I did my Greek homework. Yes, we need to talk. Yes, I have a million questions. Why don’t we meet at the gym in 20 minutes?”
He calmly replied, “We’ll kill two birds with one stone. You can get your questions answered and take out some aggression on me.”
I managed to beat Rafe to the gym and headed to our karate room to make sure it was not occupied. Luckily it was deserted, so I started to nervously warm up. What did you say to a Greek god that you had recently been kissing, but you found out about his 23 other girlfriends before you? It was not like he cheated on me already. It just showed that fidelity was not his strongest character trait. As I was thinking about the best course of action, Rafe walked in and immediately gave me a hug. I took a deep breath and leaned against him. One of his hands stroked my hair as his other hand rested in the small of my back. I just continued to breathe in and out and let Rafe hold me.
“Are you done warming up?” Rafe asked quietly.
I told him I was, so he continued, “Why don’t we practice and
talk at the same time.”
We started by practicing our kihon as I fired questions at him. “So the internet says that you had relationships with 23 different women. How accurate is that?”
Rafe actually unleashed his mesmerizing laugh that stopped me in mid move and literally caused him to bend over in his hilarity.
“Of all the mythical and momentous things you have researched, you are most interested in the fact that several millennium ago in a timeframe that stretched centuries, I was romantically linked with some women?”
“Not some women. At least 23 women--one of which is the flocking goddess of love and beauty, who might or might not be your sister!”
That brought another round of laughter and required me to further explain, “And by the way, none of the women you were linked with were my namesake!”
That finally brought home my point to him because his amused hazel eyes found my infuriated ones as he said, “Calliope, the past is the past. Whether it is prudent or not, my sole interest is in you, Siren.”
He walked over to me and put his hands on my cheeks as if to kiss me. Before I had a chance to ask another question he continued, “As much as history repeats itself, each time around different situations unfold in our life. And we always have free will to make our choices, no matter what the circumstances. I promise you.”
“So you don’t have to be a player even if one of your former ‘consorts’ shows up and tries to entice you?”
He laughed again and leaned down to kiss my forehead before wrapping his arms around me again, “Imagine if Brad Pitt was frozen at 21—same looks, same hormones. Then, you followed him for over 200 years. How many women do you think he would have dated? More or less than 23?”
“Ok. Probably more, but that doesn’t mean that if I actually dated him I wouldn’t worry about whether he was a player! Or wonder how long before another girl would capture his attention.”
“Calliope, I don’t know what the future holds, but I know that my attention going elsewhere is not something you are going to have to worry about. I am your Protector as long as you have need of me, Siren.” Then he kissed me softly on the cheek to accentuate his words.
Once my befuddled senses returned to me again, I asked my next question. “I saw the definition for Muse, and I know that the most powerful Muse was named Calliope. But what does this all mean? Am I just her namesake? Because we look nothing alike. Or am I her reincarnation? Or do you think I am her—I just don’t remember my previous lives because I am human? Or does this mean I am destined to be an immortal? Or is this one big coincidence?”
“Whoa….Barbara Walters. One question at a time. Muses are always human and stay human. Immortals cannot turn a Muse into one of them. Yes, I think you are a Muse. Your name, heritage, and lineage all mark you as one. Looks don’t matter. A Muse can look different with each reiteration. Are you the original Muse that inspired Homer and captivated two of the most powerful Olympians, Ares and Apollo? I think some of her lives through you, but never doubt that you have your own unique human soul that is separate from all this mysticism and mythology. Even though you were probably gifted with some of your namesake’s traits, your human soul is separate from all this and has the ability to make its own choices.”
I sighed and just let myself be held by him again. My freak-out instincts were starting again, and I didn’t know why he kept getting off on the tangent about my soul and making my own choices. “Muses were entertainers for the gods. How does that translate into how I fit into your world? What role do I play?”
Rafe thought about this for a moment before he answered. “You have taken the news of our existence very well, Calliope. Honestly, I am not sure how much to tell you and how soon. I don’t want to overwhelm you, and I don’t want my whole world to consume you. I want you to have as normal a life as possible.”
I thought back to the brief research I had done this morning and remembered just how his previous love life had sent me spinning. I stepped out of his arms and looked up into his worried eyes. “I know the potential freak out factor is huge in this situation. And I’m not saying I want to know every little detail about your world right now. But, I do want to know how I fit into the big picture. What is a Muse in your world?”
His worried expression turned even more concerned as he somberly admitted, “A Muse is a human that carries the soul of an Olympian within her.”
I sputtered as I took a step backward, “What!? Are you saying that I am carrying your soul? Is that why you are soooo interested in me?”
“Calli, I have been interested in you from the first day I met you. And not because you have my soul within you.”
I couldn’t believe how hurt I was right now. I couldn’t meet his eyes as I said; “I felt connected to you since the moment I first saw you. Is it because I am carrying your soul or is it totally my own feelings? How can I ever know—even if you say I have free will?”
Now Rafe really looked like he was in pain, and it was his turn not to meet my eyes as he gravely announced, “Calli, it’s probably not my soul you’re carrying.”
Ok. Now, it was freak out time! FLOCK….....FLOCK…………FLOCK! I literally didn’t know what to do. How did I get this strange panic and manic energy out of me? I felt like hitting something, screaming, running away, and crying all at once.
I took a big deep breath, tried to calm myself down, and commanded, “We need to spar, right now!”
He was amused as he bowed to me and said, “Bring it on!”
“You sound like a preppy cheerleader,” I taunted as I bowed.
I immediately made the first move much like our first sparring match. He countered it perfectly, and I avoided his counter move. As we were circling, I asked, “So, is this mutant soul thing just going to explode out of me someday like in Alien?”
He laughed and I caught him off-guard momentarily with a sidekick. He swiftly avoided it and answered afterwards, “It doesn’t work like that. As the Muse, you hold the Olympians soul. You can tell what he is feeling and thinking when he accesses his soul in you.”
I moved in again with a roundhouse kick that he jammed and then he went on the offensive again. I couldn’t speak for several minutes because I needed to concentrate on my defense. After I avoided his last front kick, I circled as I asked, “How exactly does the Olympian get access to his soul? And can I block access?”
He sensed that I needed to go on the offense for a while again, so he merely blocked, jammed, and countered all the punches and kicks that I viciously threw at him. I was not quite in control right now. The thought that some complete stranger out of the pages of Greek mythology would have some mystical access to me made me crazy.
When I had worn myself out, I circled again and he finally warily replied, “Don’t worry, Calli. It’s not physical access. It’s the equivalent to Luke using the force.”
“I am not a fifteen year old boy, Rafe! I have no idea what the flock you’re talking about,” I snarked as I threw a hook at him which he easily blocked.
“It takes mental concentration on the Olympian’s part. He can access his soul from any distance although it tends to be stronger the closer his Muse is. For the Olympian, he feels whole. It gives him greater power and control. For the Muse, she can access his feelings and thoughts if she wants to, and it also gives her heightened senses, awareness, and strength. And you can block the Olympian’s thoughts and feelings, but you cannot block his access to his soul.”
Then he attacked again. I think he wanted to avoid my final question. After I avoided yet another one of his kicks, I finally got my question out, “So if you don’t think it’s your soul that I have within me despite our connection, whose soul is it?”
He looked pained as he admitted, “There are three Olympians within the Detroit area right now—myself, Apollo, and Ares.”
I stopped moving all together and audibly gasped at two of the names I had come across in my research of Calliope’s consorts. “Have you told them
that you’ve met me?” I fiercely questioned him as I went on the attack again.
“No, Calliope, I did not tell them of your existence. But that does not mean that they will not find out or have not already done so.”
I relaxed for a second then tensed back up at his second confession. “How will they know if you don’t tell them?”
We circled again, though both of us were getting tired—one of the conversation, one of the battle. “There are two types of Muses: Night and Bright. Night Muses are the type of Muse where the Olympian’s soul has not been awakened in her. The soul does not awaken until after the woman has reached adulthood. You are a Night Muse. However, as the Night Muse becomes more mature, the Olympians become drawn to her--much like the Sirens in Greek mythology. They often find the Muse long before the soul awakens. A Bright Muse is when her Olympian’s soul has been awakened, and their powers become amped up.”
I stopped again and this time I bowed to him ending our match. “I don’t think I can throw another kick or punch, so you better not tell me anything else disturbing.”
“I will try not to, Calli. I did warn you,” he agreed in an I-told-you-so manner.
I would need at least a hundred years to process this conversation. None of it seemed real to me. Other than the hussy throwing me like a rag doll, Thrace with bite marks, and Rafe’s jumping into window skills, it didn’t seem real to me. I walked to my bag, grabbed my towel and water while throwing a sarcastic remark over my shoulder, “Alright Mr. Olympian show me your powers again, if this is all real.”
Rafe picked me up then hurled me across the whole length of the room. He caught me inches before I crashed into the opposite wall and gently set me back down.
I gasped, “Flock!! When do I get my Super Powers?”
He didn’t know whether I was kidding or not, and he didn’t want to upset me again so he hesitated before answering, “You probably won’t become a Bright Muse until after you turn 18.”
I could grasp Rafe and I being connected. I just couldn’t seem to grasp the alternative. We both started doing our cool down stretches as I inquired, “Why don’t you think that I am your Muse, Rafe? You are drawn to me, right? You discovered me.”
“Both Ares and I have already had Muses not long ago. Apollo has not. It is rare to be given another Muse so quickly.”
“Is your Muse still around?” I asked him in a slight panic.
“No. She died decades ago, Calliope. She was a fighter, much like you are, Siren.”
“But there is a chance that it still could be you, right? It’s not impossible,” I pointed out in slight desperation.
“Not impossible. Just improbable.”
I actually astounded him with my next line (I have been waiting to use this line ever since we covered it in the statistics portion of my math class), “Well, I am going to have to disagree with Aristotle when he claimed that ‘Probable impossibilities are to be preferred to improbable possibilities.’ Don’t ya think?”
Rafe just threw his head back and laughed, then came over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. As he leaned down and touched his forehead to mine, he said, “Yes, Calliope. I, too, wish for an improbable possibility.”
I announced, “Until this supernatural stuff starts arriving on my doorstep, I am going to pretend that it does not exist.” I packed up and let him walk me out to my car. On the way, I posed one more question, “Are Muses always women, and if so does that mean that only male gods get access to their souls?”
“Yes, Muses are always women, but there is another term for human men that carry an Olympian’s soul. They are called Satyrs.”
As we arrived at my car, he opened the door for me and then leaned down to kiss me lightly on the lips. “You can call me tonight if you have anymore questions, or if you just want me to lull you to sleep.”
“I hope I am done with the questions tonight. Will I see you in school tomorrow?” I asked with a little bit of neediness in my voice.
He smiled his carefree smile that I adored and said, “Of course. I will always be your guardian no matter what Calli.”
“About that. Let’s keep our relationships and any touchy feely stuff on the down low until Thrace has a chance to recover from our break up. Please.”
“As you wish. It’s your world, we just live here,” he teased.
“If wishing made it so.” I drove off with a lot to think about and a lot of homework to do.
As soon as I got home, I ran up to my computer. I knew I shouldn’t do more research tonight, but if you were told you’re walking around carrying the soul of a Greek god, you might also think further information was important. So I at least had to look up Apollo and Ares to see what my options were. Below was the comparison of my three potential suitors from Wikipedia with a few brief comments from me. A girl’s gotta feel like she has choices—even when she doesn’t. Free Will, my Eyas!!
Bachelor #1: Hermes (god I’m crushin On)
-Messenger of the Gods; Guide to the Underworld (Sounds like a place I’m going soon)
-His bag of tricks contains: boundaries, shepherds, cowherds, thieves, liars, wit, literature, poets, sports, weights and measures, invention, and commerce (They should add charm to this list!)
-Son of Zeus and Maia (my half brother-YICK!)
-At least 23 Consorts and most linked with Aphrodite and Dryope (Can you say manwhore!)
-At least in his Naked Statue he seems to be half-clothed (but for some reason his cloak is just hanging on his arm)
-He created fire and he liked to help travelers; He was a protector by nature.
Bachelor #2: Apollo (Most Likely Soul Candidate)
-God of Light and Sun (A immortal that is the god of light and sun. Ironic)
-His bag of tricks also contains: truth, prophecy, medicine, archery, healing music, poetry, and the arts. (Well, isn’t he well rounded.)
-Son of Zeus and Leto (Is there a goddess out there that Zeus didn’t try to get with?)
-At least as many “consorts” as Hermes, at least none of them were Aphrodite (But not all of them were female)
-Famous Naked Roman Statue pictures him with a lyre (musical instrument that Hermes gave to him) and a snake (That screams creepy to me)
-There is a lot on him and he seems really passive aggressive. (Turning people who displeased him into trees and flowers—whining to his dad that Hermes stole his cattle)
Bachelor #3: Ares (Ruler of Detroit)
-God of War or Bloodlust—(Total Keeper!)
-His bag of tricks also contains: weaponry, sacking of cities, rebellion, civil disorder, manliness and courage (Where were you in junior high when I coulda used you?).
-Son of Zeus and Hera (So all my soul mates would be incest, incest, or more incest)
-Lived in Thrace, Mt. Olympus, & Laconia (Since he lived in Thrace, maybe we can all be friends—except not!)
-Main consort was Aphrodite (Apparently, she spreads her love and beauty around!)
-Famous Naked Statue of him at Hadrian’s Villa (Seriously! What’s with the Naked Statues—how exactly does one even go into battle totally naked? Can you say awkward!)
There was an expression that my grandma always used when she didn’t want to change something in her life. She called it a Greek proverb “Better to dance with the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” I had to definitely follow her advice and stick with the god I knew.