High School Again? Ugh! Ch. 07

"She planned for the possibility of me figuring out that it was her in Bridgette's form and not you."

"You guessed the truth? Even without Grandmother's empathy?" Hebe asked in surprise.

"You and I have shared a lot on this island," I answered with a sad smile. "Did you really think I wouldn't figure out that she wasn't you just because I couldn't feel her emotions?" Hebe looked away for a moment. I'd like to think it was out of guilt, but I didn't know anymore. Hera wouldn't have been able to play me as well as she did without her daughter's help.

"Then why did you give her what she wanted?" Hebe asked once she was able to look me in the eye again.

"You were right when you said that I wasn't fully healed after my experience with Axiocersa and Axerus," I said, swallowing with some difficulty. I rubbed my chin momentarily as I built up the nerve to continue. "But I don't think you ever fully understood just how much I hate your mother. I became enraged when I realized it was her in Bridgette's form and not you, and because of what happened with the dark goddesses I wasn't able to control it. Your mother was begging me to hurt her and I did. I couldn't stop myself." I wasn't proud of what I'd done, but there was little I could do about it now.

"I lost it completely," I continued. "I learned well from the sisters and I did my best to share that knowledge with Hera. I did things to your mother that would have made Axiocersa and Axerus proud, maybe even impressed them. I did things my mind refuses to remember. The hunger to hurt her twisted together with my lust and I let them both have their reign."

"John..." Hebe began, but I cut her off. I could hear the compassion in her voice. It was too much. I fought back my tears. I so needed the person who had been my one and only friend for the last year, but she was gone. In truth, she'd only existed in my imagination. That woman could never have done with Hebe had.

"Don't!" I snapped. I took a few moments to steady my breathing and gain a semblance of control over my emotions before adding, "Not now. Not after what happened. You know me as well as anyone else, probably better because I was able to talk about both my lives with you. We shared on a level that convinced me deep down that we were close friends and God knows I needed one of those. I guess I should have known better. Friends don't do what you did to me." Hebe looked miserable and I felt momentarily guilty, but I couldn't stop what I was saying even if I wanted to.

"I still wasn't right after the sisters and you knew it. You knew how I felt about your mother. You knew how badly I'd handle what finally happened. You knew it all, but none of it stopped you from handing me over to your mother."

"I'm so sorry," Hebe offered.

"Are you? Are you really?" I asked. I didn't give her a chance to answer. "Because we both know that you'd do the same thing all over again if faced with the same situation." Hebe didn't bother denying it.

"John, I don't think you understand just how momentous the creation of the next generation of gods is," she said slowly. "Honestly, it was too important to leave in the Fate's hands. Hera is the logical choice to mother them. You'd see that if you just gave my mother a chance."

"Gave her a chance?" I cried, my voice actually cracking with emotion. "To do what? She raped the woman I love. Hell, she had Axiocersa and Axerus rape me for all intents and purposes, and then she used that rape to twist me into giving her exactly what she wanted. Give your mother a chance? Are you insane?!"

"But..."

"Do you want to know the worst part?" I interjected before she could complete her sentence. "She actually enjoyed it!"

"Mother would," Hebe said. "She hates men. Maybe that's fathers fault, but after all this time the reason doesn't matter. The truth is that I think it's impossible for her to actually make love to a man. She seldom even has sex with one. What you two shared was angry and twisted. That's something she could accept from a man."

"That's sick!" I snapped. "She's sick! And yet, somehow despite that you think she's the right person to mother the next generation of gods. How?"

"I see why you would think of it as sick, but don't you also see just how sad it is too?" the goddess of youth asked in reply. I took a deep breath and let it out. It didn't help. Sure, on an intellectual level I could see what Hebe was saying, but that didn't make what happened okay.

"Sick or sad, it doesn't matter," I replied. "How can you possibly think that a woman who willing gives someone to the Cabreiri would be a fit mother?"

"You're only seeing one side of her. I never said mother was perfect," Hebe answered. "But none of us are and things are never as black and white as most of us would prefer. Mother is the best choice and if you were thinking objectively, you'd see that."

"Not likely," I snorted.

"You just said you had to give her credit for what she'd pulled off," Hebe argued. "Mother found a way of cancelling out your empathy so that you would have sex with her in Bridgette's form without realizing it was her. She also found a way of pushing just the right buttons so that even when you did realize it was her you would still give her what she wanted."

"Hitler was brilliant in his way too. He almost took over the world," I retorted. "But that doesn't mean I want him to parent the next generation of gods either!"

"Then who else?" she asked.

"Tara," I answered without hesitation.

"Of course," Hebe sighed, shaking her head. "John, just because you love her that doesn't mean she's fit to raise the next generation of gods. We're not talking about normal children. We're talking gods. Don't you think that's too daunting of a task for a mere mortal? Do you really think the mother of the next generation of gods should be a human?"

"Why not?" I replied. "The father is."

"That's crazy," Hebe said, and from her tone I knew she meant it. There was no point arguing the merits of Tara or any other human mothering the next generation of gods with the goddess. I saw that now. Hebe, being a god, simply couldn't see it.

"Even if I agreed with you that it should be a goddess," I said. "Why Hera?"

"John, mother believes that she was created for this task and I can't disagree. She's been working toward this day for eons. She's the most powerful goddess. Believe it or not, she loves children. Who else makes sense?"

"Hera is a vindictive and cruel bitch," I said, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. "That's not the type of person I want raising kids."

"She did okay by me," Hebe said with an odd smile, and suddenly I realized just how offensive my comments about Hera's ability to parent were to Hebe. It didn't make me like Hera any better, but I decided to back off. No one should denigrate a mother to her child.

"What about you?" I asked, shifting the conversation away from Hera. "I don't really know any other goddess, but I have met a couple. If the mother of the next generation of gods has to be a goddess, then why not you?"

"That's ridiculous!" she answered.

"Why?" I argued. "You're far more level headed than your mo...than most. You have compassion, something that many of the goddesses I met seem to lack. You..."

"John, haven't you figured out that I'm not nearly ambitious enough to want to be the mother of the next generation of gods?" she interjected.

"When did motherhood start being about ambition?" I retorted.

"John, there are other reasons why I'm unfit for this task, but there's no point in continuing. What's done is done," Hebe said. "Mother got what she wanted."

"God, how I hate her!"

"John, hating mother is pointless," Hebe sighed. I knew she was right, but the hate was the only thing keeping me going right at that moment.

"It's all I have left," I shrugged.

"Not really," she disagreed. "You're alive."

"Um, hurray?" I snorted.

"You feel that way now, but it will change in time," Hebe said confidently. I knew she was right. I didn't have a death wish despite everything that happened.

"So, now what happens to me?" I asked, sick of the feeling of powerlessness that plagued me this last year. "Frankly, I'm surprised your mother let me live."

"It took some convincing," the goddess smiled. "And quite a bit of pleading, but she owed me for helping her."

"Thanks." I even meant it a little bit. I was going to have to accept and live with the fact that I made Hera, a true monster no matter what Hebe believed, the mother of the next generation of gods. That was going to be a tough one, but what choice did I have? "What are you plans for me?" She looked at me oddly for a moment before answering.

"I can't take you off the island. Mother wanted you dead, but was willing to let you live as long as she sated here." I wasn't remotely surprised. That didn't stop Hebe's words from hurting on a gut wrenching level. Hera was never going to let me go. Any hope I had of returning to either of my lives was fading fast.

"So she can keep an eye on me," I said, shaking my head.

"You're probably right in concept," Hebe said. "But for the time being mother is so focused on her pregnancy that I think she just wanted you out of the way."

I couldn't fathom surviving very long on the island by myself. My feelings must have showed on my face because Hebe reached out and touched my arm to get my attention. I looked into her eyes and saw her smile.

"Don't worry, I'll stay with you."

"Why would you do that?" I frowned. "You're a goddess. Besides, I'm sure your mother has more plans for you." Hebe hesitated. I could tell she had something on her mind, but not what.

"Mother has what she's always wanted. She doesn't need me anymore."

"Fine," I said in confusion. "But that still doesn't explain why you'd be willing to stay on the island with me. My part is done."

"John, you aren't the only one that was affected by our year alone on this island," the goddess of youth said. "And the closeness you felt was real, only I think it was more than just friendship."

"What?" I asked. I realized what she was implying, but it made no sense. Hebe watched me as I tried to digest her news. It didn't go down easily and frankly, didn't make sense on a number of levels. The goddess of youth saw me struggling.

"You really never saw it, did you?" she asked rhetorically. She waited a few moments longer before adding, "John, I love you."

"That's impossible," I said, my mind racing for sanity and losing badly. "You love Hercules."

"Yes, I do," Hebe agreed. "But I'm not in love with him. You know Heracles was an arranged marriage. We learned to respect and care for each other over the years. It even turned to love when we had our sons, but we were never in love. You're the first man, god or human I've ever truly loved."

"I care for you too." I'm not sure why I said it. I think I was just stalling as I fought to regain control of my thoughts. It was the truth, but only part of it. I did care for Hebe. I also felt totally betrayed by her. How could she possibly think we could stay together after what happened?

"John, we could have a good life together. You're stuck on the island anyway. Wouldn't it be better to have me here with you? I wouldn't mind. I've had more peace and pleasure here with you than I with anyone else, anywhere."

"This is crazy," I said, only half listening to her. "I don't want to sit on this island waiting to die."

"You won't. You'll never age here, not with me at your side." Hebe clearly didn't understand me. Her words were meant to comfort, but all they did was horrify me. It was time to set her straight.

"Hebe, you don't love me," I said slowly. "If you did, you would never have let your mother do to me what she did." She started to open her mouth to argue, but I continued before she could say anything. "You're in love with the freedom the island gave to you. For you it was one long vacation in a place of peace, introspection and pleasure."

"What we shared..." she began, but I cut her off.

"Don't you understand? It's not the same for me. This island is a prison, a gilded cage keeping me away from the ones I love! I won't deny that during our time on the island we grew close. We told our stories to each other in more detail than probably either of us planned. Sure, it caused a bond, but love? No."

"I thought of you as a friend," I continued. "Even a good friend, and in many ways I guess you were, but not in the ones that mattered."

"You've made your decision," she said, clearly hurt.

"Hebe, my decision was made long before I met you," I sighed. "I'm sorry, but I don't love you and wouldn't have even if you hadn't helped your mother. You're not Tara." The goddess of youth didn't look particularly youthful as she nodded in acceptance.

"What will you do on the island all by yourself?" she asked.

"I have no idea," I answered glumly. I was already starting to think it would have been better if Hebe simply let Hera kill me, but I kept that thought to myself. It would only hurt the goddess and there was no point. I would never forgive her for her part in her mother's plan, but I wasn't angry at her any longer, at least not enough to try and hurt her with my words anymore.

"Would it be so bad to continue to share the island with me? As friends, if not lovers?" There was a part of me that was sorely tempted to take her up on her offer. My insanity with Hera was only a short time ago and I felt raw inside. The thought of being trapped on the island all alone for only the gods knew how long made that rawness bleed. Frankly, I had no idea what was holding me together.

"It wouldn't be the same after everything that's happened. More important, it wouldn't be right or even fair," I said slowly. "To either of us." She stood silently watching me for a time.

"You're wrong about my feelings," she finally said. "I do love you despite taking my mother's side. You've lived long enough to know that life isn't that simple. Neither is love."

"Maybe not," I sighed. "But let's just say it is for me." Hebe didn't bother arguing and I was thankful. I was way past my breaking point. Hebe stared at me once more. Her sadness was plain to see, but there was nothing I could do about it. She stepped closer to me. I didn't back away. The kiss was gentle. It wasn't overly long, but it wasn't a peck either.

"Goodbye John," Hebe said softly as she backed away.

"Goodbye," I replied.

A moment later she was gone and I was left alone. Part of me wanted to lie down, fall asleep and never wake up. The rest was in far worse shape. I was reeling. No, reeling inferred an ability to right one's self. I was beyond that. I was going to crash hard. Nothing could stop that. There was even a chance I wouldn't recover from it, but at this point I could care less.

The dark goddesses had set me up for Hera and she'd delivered the knockout punch. Hebe's declaration of love only made it worse. She was the one who laid the ground work for my fall.

I had the sudden urge to scream, but there was no one on the island to hear me. I felt a sick laughter bubbling up and it frightened me. I started running, but it didn't help. I couldn't escape myself. I pushed hard. I'm not sure what I hoped it would do, but at least it made me too out of breath to start raving like a lunatic. That was something I guess.

I stumbled onto a path I didn't recognize. That should have set off all kinds of warnings because I knew the island too well for there to be such a trail in existence. I was beyond caring. I pushed myself even harder. My body was soaked in sweat as I moved deeper into the trees. The island wasn't that wide and I ran for far longer than it should have taken for me to reach the other side.

Time passed and the trees disappeared to be replaced by bushes, which were them replaced by brush. The island was always warm, but the temperature turned hotter with every step. I didn't remember when the striated walls of rock began rising on either side of me. The brush grew thinner and drier. I heard small animals scurrying out of my way as I ran. I didn't bother to look up and see what they were.

I'm not sure how long I ran. I was in my own world. It grew darker and I was exhausted. I started stumbling and fell. I picked myself up and continued on. I did the same twice more before the sound of a coyote howling at the moon finally broke me from my trance. I let out a howl of my own and the night grew eerily silent for a few moments. My chest heaved as my lungs fought for air. I came back to myself slowly.

I had no idea where I was or how I got here. Okay, that wasn't quite true. I was obviously in a desert. I could no longer see the colors in the striped rock in the distance because of the darkness, but I could still see the walls themselves. It was equally obvious that I wasn't on the island anymore despite the impossibility of it all. Hera wouldn't have let me off the island and there weren't many who would chance her wraith. In fact, I could think of only one.

"Grandmother," I guessed. My voice was hoarse.

"Grandson," Gaia replied from behind me. She was smiling sadly as she walked toward me. I could hear the different sounds of the nighttime desert as its denizens woke and added their voices to the surrounding darkness. A coyote passed behind her. I found myself wondering if it was the one who broke my trance, but I guess it didn't matter in the end.

"I'm lost," I said softly.

"And broken," she added. "But don't worry. You can be fixed. After that, it will be no great feat to find your way back."

"You'll help me?" I asked.

"Of course," she replied. "But first you need to sleep. Your pain is too new, too raw. Rest and we'll see what can be done."

"Thank you Grandmother," I said as I settled on the ground. It was hard and should have been uncomfortable, but somehow it was as good as any bed I'd ever slept in.

"Don't thank me," she said gently. "Your part in all this isn't over yet." Despite that news I closed my eyes and drifted off.