‘How romantic!’ Mary exclaimed.
‘Yeah, wasn't it though? And I, of course, reciprocated by putting “D” period after Ann in my name.’
‘Why D?’ Mary asked.
‘I am Demeter.’
Chapter 2
Love: n. the strongest possible feeling of affection for, or attraction to, another person or thing; God.
The author
You may think that what I am about to tell you is grossly exaggerated. I knew Demeter would always be the one for me as soon as I set eyes on her. I was only five at the time, and she, a gorgeous four-year-old. I know, I know, it is far too corny and ridiculous to talk about love at first sight at that age. And yet there was an aura, a spirit, about her that completely and utterly enthralled me, even at that tender age. Back then, she stole my soul as well as my heart and, thankfully, has never given it back. From that very first moment, we have been inseparable; one being incomplete without the other; brother and sister, teenage lovers, husband and wife. Clearly, the inevitability and steadfastness of our union was written.
I am not just talking about looks here. It is undeniable that Demeter's flowing flaxen hair, her bluest of blue eyes, her cute upturned nose, her glorious figure, and her long elegant legs, are all intensely desirable; yet even more so to me is her sharp, penetrating wit, and her insightful intelligence. I could never be without her. I had even followed her to Princeton after graduating from Harvard in the mortal world because that male dominated university wouldn’t take her. I have followed her everywhere since, and I always will; that is also written.
Now I have followed her to Mount Olympus where she has gone to prepare the way. Rising nearly 3000 meters, about 9500 feet, high between Macedonia and Thessalonica, and over 400 kilometers north of Athens, the magnificent Olympus mountain range is home to the gods of a different age, the immortal age, my age.
I was standing in the lobby of a hotel in a small town in the foothills of Olympus. Behind the concierge's desk sat a rather officious, plump little man of distinctly Greek appearance: large nose; dark eyes; thick, arched eyebrows; and dark, heavily greased hair parted in the middle. For some reason, he looked nervous as I approached.
'Would you call a taxi for me, please,' I asked.
'Of course, sir. May I enquire as to your destination?'
'The Pantheon,' I replied, knowing full well that it would completely discombobulate him. It always did with his sort. Unkind of me but fun, and I needed to relax.
'But...but...you can't...I mean...it's dangerous...no one goes there. Ah! You mean the one in Athens?' he asked hopefully.
'No, I mean the one at Mytikas,' I replied.
'You can't, sir, you really can't...no taxi will go there...it’s the Anemoi...they blow them off the mountain,' he said, waving his arms about in protest like a neurotic tarantula.
'Then you had better call for an MHP,' I said, and waited for his reaction.
'An MHP! You must be joking, sir. An MHP?'
'Yes, a Mobile Hermes Pod...'
'Indeed, I do know what an MHP is! I wasn't born yesterday.'
'Then try calling one. Can you do that?' I asked.
'Well, I can try, but they get very angry, if I waste their time. Very angry indeed. They are not available to the general public.'
'Try,' I demanded.
'Very well, sir, if you insist. Dr. Dias, isn't it?'
'You may have more success, if you use the other version of my name.'
'Which is?'
'Zeus.'
His jaw dropped, but he waddled across to a computer without saying another word. I have to hand it to him, he was very cool and quick on the uptake.
When he returned from the computer, he announced rather grandly: 'Your MHP is waiting outside, sir,' as if it were an everyday occurrence.
He didn't seem unduly impressed or surprised but began to lead me towards the heavy oak front door. I put my hand on his shoulder.
'I suggest it might be better if you stay inside,' I said.
He nodded obediently and watched open mouthed as I walked through the oak door without opening it.
Unlike me, the fat little concierge, of course, was not yet ready to leave the mortal world.
**
The MHP delivered me safely and swiftly to the Pantheon, Πάνθειονin Greek, the temple to all twelve Olympian gods. I stared down in awe at the scene that the great Homer once described as the "mysterious folds of Olympus". It was such a long time since I had been here on the peak of the mountain with the world spread out beneath me. Everything I could see, and more, could all be mine. I knew that, yet I didn't want it, at least, not that way.
About a third of the way down the mountain part of the view was obscured by swirling clouds that were being threshed about by the Anemoi: the combined north, south, east, and west winds that had so worried the fat little concierge. The Anemoi were a force that I needed to tame eventually if we, Demeter and I, that is, were to save the mortal world. But not yet, not now. Nevertheless, I made a mental note to have a strong word with Aeolus, god of the winds.
I turned back to the temple. It was much the same as I remembered: tall columns, a massive brass studded door, statues galore – many of them rather flattering sculptures of me, I have to say, as I used to be that is – and my beautiful Demeter, of course, as well as all the others.
However, there was one thing that I had not expected to see here: guarding the door was a large, marble statue of a dog. This was not any dog, you understand, this was Kuon Khryseos, Greek for "Golden Dog", yet always KK to me. KK had been given to my mother, Rhea, to protect me when I was very young and living on Crete, the island of my birth. KK was the biggest dog in the world. When standing on all fours, he almost reached my shoulders, and I am well over six feet, 184 centimeters, tall in mortal terms – or as tall as I need to be.
I gently stroked the smooth stone, which was sensuous to touch. As I fondled the cold marble, it slowly began to morph into gold. I continued caressing the dog until the gold gradually dissolved into soft gold/brown fur. As I continued caressing him, KK became alive again, and he was clearly pleased to see me. He was not a recognizable breed by mortal standards, being somewhere between a Great Dane and a St Bernard. Nevertheless, KK had two talents that would be very useful to me in the days to come: he always caught his prey, and he always protected my back. It was written.
'KK open the door,' I commanded.
KK turned and barked three times at the massive door, which slowly began to dissolve before my eyes as the dog continued to growl at it. When the door had completely disappeared, KK stopped growling, and I strolled into the temple with him at my heels, or I suppose, at my shoulder would be more accurate.
The temple was still in superb condition. In fact, it looked unused. The marble floor was immaculately polished, while giant statues of the twelve Olympian gods, including Demeter and me, lined the walls – no one was going to forget who we were in a hurry – Poseidon, Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Dionysus, Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares, and Hephaestus, were all there and so too was Hera, my former wife, although, to my shame, I hoped that I could avoid seeing her.Surprisingly, the Grand Vestibule was otherwise as quiet as a tomb.
I knew that Demeter was inviting some other, non-Olympian, gods to our great meeting. We had previously discussed and agreed on certain gods that we considered would be helpful to the success of our mission in the mortal world.
At the far end of the temple stood the magnificent red upholstered, gold encrusted throne of the king of the gods – my throne.
I