Eulises
"Why?" I asked, ducking into my own tent. Finally. After a terribly long day, I was coming back to my tent, only to find a strawberry haired swift footed child stealing my whiskey.
"Oh quiet, Ithaca," Peleus muttered, pouring himself a drink, "I want to be alone."
"This is my tent, and I was of the mind to prepare for my evening," my evening was to weep and contemplate my wife's likeness.
"Since you're here, can I ask you something?" he asked, slumping down pathetically.
"Whatâhave both of your lovers spurned you tonight?" I asked, sitting down on my own bedroll. I began to pity him then.
He shrugged.
"Out with it, what's troubling you?" I sighed a bit. He only looked like a boy. And I hoped someone would take the time to council my lad in my absence.
"Do you ever quarrel with your wife?"
"Are you asking for advice in dealing with women, or with a lover because the answer will be different if the quarrel is with Sergeant Menonitus," I said.
"Of course it's him. Bre isn't cross with me I don't know if she gets crossâ,"
"She gets cross."
"She may notâ,"
"No, I've spoken with her. She gets cross."
"That doesn't count, Ithaca, everyone gets cross with you."
"Yet here you areâgo on, so the question is about your man? What's he cross with you over? I thought he forgave you anything," I said, frowning.
"So did I," doing another shot of my father's whiskey, "I got letters from my wife. I think he's jealous."
"Think? Or know?"
"He asked me about her, and about women, and why I have Bre and---you don't have other women than your wife, do you?"
"No, nor men," I said.
"Men's different."
"Ah, not really, infidelity is infidelity, when you love someone they are supposed to be first in your heart," I said.
"He is," he sighed.
"I know that, I suspect he knows that, but he needs to be reminded, maybe?"
"But you wouldn't have anyone else, no matter how long you were from home? Or the person you loved?" he asked.
"You live with the person you love. I've seen the barren wasteland that is the tent he's intended to occupy. He is not there. Ever," I said.
"Well, sometimes he's busy."
"Yes, we all have jobs except apparently you, Peleus," I sighed, "What, you went off to the girl because you weren't getting immediate gratification from him?"
"Something like that."
"As in exactly like that?"
"Yes, all right you're very clever are you happy?"
"No, I am not happy, yes I am very clever," I said, pouring myself a drink as well.
"What, you would never have someone who isn't your wife?" he asked.
"No. Because I love her best," I informed him.
"I don't love Bre, it isn't like that. She just likes me. She's my friend, people don't usually like me, as in ever," he muttered, staring at his drink.
"Gods, Peleus, you don't have sleep with people just because they tolerate you," I sighed.
"Look me directly in the eyes and tell me your wife isn't the only person who tolerates you."
"My wife is the only person who tolerates me. No, I do not care. Yes, I'm happy to keep it this way. If I found someone else who did tolerate me I would not automatically sleep with them," I said, looking directly in misty eyes.
"Well, I do. Anyway, how do you make it up with your wife if you do upset her?" he asked.
"It's not going to work for youâ my wife is a maid, your wife is a hot headed gambling addict who is incidentally not your wife he's a man who for some reason has adopted you," I informed him, curtly.
"Try me."
"Fine âdepends on what I've done but dramatic speeches about not deserving her and needing her to function which happen to be true along with profound apologies usually do the trick, kneeling helps," I said.
"Pass. I don't grovel."
"Hmm, all right," I said, recognizing footsteps he was too drunk to hear.
"Hey, thought I'd find you hereâ,"
"Hello, sergeant, yes, please take him," I said, pouring myself another drink.
"I'm sorry I upset you, please I can't stand it when you're cross with me?" Peleus, immediately, taking both of his lover's hands.
"Forget it, prince, I'm not mad," twisting his hands in his own and then bending down to kiss his lips.
"You have your own tents, two of them," I remarked, as the kiss continued.
They did not heed me, eyes only for the other. Peleus pulled the unfortunate sergeant into his arms to kiss him more fully, both heedless of my presence.
"If your wife didn't exist then do you think you would love me?" Circe asked, as we stared out at the rolling ocean, watching a storm come in.
"If my wife did not exist I don't think I could breath," I said.
She sighed.
"Well, it's true. I don't dare think of a world without her in it," I said, leaning against a tree as I stared at the turbulent ocean.
"All right, then, if you'd met me out there in the real world. If I was one of your soldiers or somethingâ"
"Then yes, we'd probably be friends, or something like that," I said. I admired her wit and her humor mostly matched my own. She was not stupid.
"I'll take something like that," she said, taking my hand and lacing her fingers with mine. I almost moved away but then did not. My heart burned and after all this what did it matter? I couldn't fathom what it mattered even. It wasn't as though this one touch would damn me more than I already was.
"You all right, boy?" my father's voice wakens me from the drowning pool of memories. I am of course sitting up, sleeping by the fire place, Argos curled around my legs. Telemachus is passed out in the guest room, in the sweet, innocent sleep of youth. My father stayed in his chair I suppose to watch me.
"Just ghosts," I say, shifting a little.
"Would it help to tell me about them?"
I shake my head, shrugging a little.
"I wouldn't care you know. Whatever you've doneâ," he says, looking away from me, crumpled against the wall, unable to even take a bed or keep more than a few sips of broth down.
"I'm not ashamed of what I've doneâI'm ashamed of what's been done to me. In a way that's worse. I can justify my own actions all the day and night long but I cannot justify theirs against me. I have no fine words for that," I tell him.
"My poor boy," my father sighs.
"I couldn't sleep," Telemachus who was definitely asleep not an hour ago, comes out, half bound up in a blanket. He flops down by my side. I put an arm around his thin shoulders and he leans against me happily.
"Sorry, go on back to sleep," I said, rubbing his arm.
"What mum said, with the axes, have you ever shot an arrow through twelve axe heads before?" he asks.
I remember a hot sunny night. So many years ago now. Standing out in the garden which was quite my domain.
"Are you going to keep adding axes and shooting through them now you've figured out how to do that?" my father asked, watching me. It was not cheek. He was genuinely curious. I often think he thought of me as a sort of study. Look at this weird little human who lives in our house. How many times will he lie to his mother's face and think he can get away with it? Does he hate all humans? Does he think he's human? If he leaves the house, he comes back with more money than he left with and provides increasingly illogical explanations. He is easily placated by money, as well as gifts of weapons. Jot this down. May be useful later.
"Yes, actually, it's quite hard because of the grade of the arrow; if my aim is even just the slightest bit off within a coupe of axe heads it will wind up striking them," I said, as I finished setting the tenth axe then used a pole to check that it was straight with the others, "I'm sure I shall be at it until the sun goes down, father, do not trouble yourself."
"Need to get you a woman, boy," he sighed, looking like he was going to go back to the house no doubt to write down his observations.
"I really do not like people, thank you!" I called.
"You know there's an old story. That once man had four arms and legs and two heads. And Zeus split them apart, for man was too powerful. The other half everyone's soul exists somewhere, it's just up to us to find them," he said.
"Well, as we've met father, I think you can concede that the gods would not want me to reunite with the other half of my soul as I'm quite powerful enough as it is and I can't imagine what we'd be like together," I said.
"You're something, boy," he laughed, "But probably not wrong. You won't know unless you do actually get out there and find---this otherâpersonâwho may or may not be female---"
I tossed the pole to him. He laughed and caught it.
"No, I'm still not going to the stupid party Sparta is having for his stupid prettiest daughter ever who I shall not fancy at all and if you or mother make any attempts to betroth me to her, I shall immediately take direct and immediate action to become a privateer."
"You're dramatic as fuck. Also, you're going, because your mother said so, and because you're intelligent, I know you're afraid of her."
"Fine, but you're both depriving me of target practice, which is cruel as well as wicked, and I refuse to have a good time. So there."
"So there, come inside when it gets dark," he said, chucking and turning to go inside.
"Since you're ruining several hours of my life at a boring party I may not," I called. He didn't get cross with me. Even when I was a boy and got into trouble. He was just amused. Like people are with cats. Look at this weird person who showed up in our house and the weird things he does, he's hilarious, I say we keep him. I'm quite certain he said something to that effect to my mother more than once when she proposed selling me on the grounds that I'd come home eventually and it would be a good activity for me.
And in the end we all wanted me home. Their jests about me showing up when I was good and hungry with warrants out for the arrest of a very convincing alias, run sour now. After all these years .
"Yeah, I've done that shot a time or two, it'll be fine," I say, eventually.
"Were you hurt? Is that why your hands shake?" Telemahcus asks, gently laying his smooth hand on my weathered one.
"Yes," I said.
"What happened?" he asked, frowning.
"My mind is hurt, there's nothing wrong with my hands," I say, squeezing his hand. "All will go well tomorrow."
"Are you coming grandfather?" Telemachus asked.
"Am I coming to watch your father commit a crime and therefore be an accessory to it? No, I am not---and close your mouth Eulises this is you we're talking about there is no way the sun will set and rise again without you committing a crime."
"They are in my house."
"I need you to understand that that does not automatically mean you get to kill them."
"They are courting my wife."
"That has no bearing on you getting to kill them."
"They wish to kill us, they'll get a fighting chance," I hiss.
"Nobody has a fighting chance against you, Eulises."
I start laughing then, uncontrollably.
"What?" Telemachus asks, clearly thinking I've gone mad.
"Leave him, more than likely something horrible and macbre that only he and your mother would find funny," my father, not even concerned.
"It is actually," I say, wiping tears from my eyes, "I'll not tell you either if you're not going to be interested."
"I'm interested," Telemachus sighs.
"I'll tell you all when we're both rested and I'm in the spirit, go to bed now, we have a long day," I say, ruffling his short curls. My son smiles at me.