Aphrodite's Prey

"Well?"

"Jeff, I know that rosebush wasn't there two days ago."

"So? Someone from the park thought it would look nice, and planted it."

"No, because the bush was big enough they'd have had to dig a hole to plant it. The earth around it hadn't been disturbed. In fact, there was grass under the bush, all the way to the main stem."

"Just when I thought this couldn't get any weirder..."

"Yes, I know. Jeff, what did the prof say about the paper?"

"He translated it: 'She has been borrowed, and will be returned. Jack shall have his Jill, and nought shall go ill.'"

"Hmmm." She thought for a moment. "Did you tell the prof how you got the paper?"

"No, I didn't want him to think I was totally out of my mind."

"I think maybe you should tell him the whole story. He may think you're weird, but I'm starting to think that the answer to this puzzle is more in his line of country than yours or mine."

Jeff decided to take Officer Staten's advice, though he felt like a fool for going back to the Classics professor's office with his story. Professor Sid (his Greek name was too long to pronounce comfortably) put him at his ease.

"I was hoping you'd come back," he said with a smile. "I got to thinking about that paper of yours, and something is decidedly strange about it. It's written in Classical Greek, not modern Greek: a language that had been out of use for centuries by the time Shakespeare wrote. Do you have it with you?"

Jeff gave Professor Sid the paper. He laid it on his desk, squinted at it, pored over it, and said "Hmmmm" a lot. Finally, he looked up at Jeff.

"The writing was done recently; it's not an antique or anything. But the characters and language are from about 500 BC. Are you sure you don't want to tell me about it?"

Jeff told the story again. He was starting to feel less of a fool, maybe because he had repeated the tale so often.

"Remarkable," opined the professor, as he leaned back in his creaky chair. "So now, all you have to do is find someone who can read and write Classical Greek, and can break into your house and pin this to your blanket without your waking up, and you'll be on your way to recovering your wife!"

Jeff gave a mirthless snort.

"The problem is," Prof. Sid went on, "people who read and write this language fluently," he pointed at the paper, "are almost all in Classical Studies departments at Universities, or are New Testament Bible scholars. And breaking into houses undetected is generally not part of those folks' skill set. This was done very rapidly, probably using pen and paper from your own house."

"Yes, now that you mention it, I think that paper is from the pad in our kitchen. I could check to be sure."

Professor Sid thought a moment, then chuckled. "Of course, one could always fall back on the hypothesis that Cupid himself wrote the note."

"If one believed in such things," Jeff quoted from the morning's interview.

Prof. Sid smiled indulgently, then became serious. "Wait a minute. You said that the flowers that suddenly appeared at the park were roses. Are you sure?"

"Well, I didn't see them myself, but I imagine most people can tell a rose when they see one. Why?"

"Because the rose is the favorite flower of the goddess Aphrodite. Cupid's mother."

Jeff swallowed hard. The air in the musty book-lined office had become stifling. "What... what happened to people whom Aphrodite 'borrowed'? Besides, I thought she was into guys, or gods?"

"Mostly, yes, but she didn't let a little thing like that stop her when she saw someone she wanted. As to what happened to them? It varied, depending on her mood. Olympus isn't exactly where you go to look for high moral character."

"So you think she...?"

"Well, if we're going down that road," he shook his head as if he couldn't believe he was actually considering the possibility, "undoubtedly. That's what she just about always wanted, whether from gods or mortals. But I think you have reason to hope: the message says she will be returned."

"Yes, but in what condition?" Jeff's honest face betrayed his worry.

"The gods only know."

The two men stared at each other in silence, until Jeff realized it was time to pick up the boys. He thanked Professor Sid, and took his paper with him, after the professor had photocopied it.

"I've a feeling we'll see each other again," said the tweed-jacketed expert.

*****

Cupid chortled and smirked as he listened to the mortal shriek, whimper, squeal, and babble meaninglessly, while his mother had her way with her. Aphrodite was obviously having a very good time as she reduced her latest sex toy to a quivering blob of protoplasm. Again. The mortal was obviously in nearly unbearable ecstasy, if she was still able to feel anything. She hadn't put up much resistance, but then they never did. It probably wasn't fair. Aphrodite was a goddess, after all. But fairness had never been much of a concern on Olympus anyway. What did it matter? There were always more mortals where this one came from, even if she was prettier than most and had that appealing innocence about her. Besides, she was having the time of her life, sexually at least.

He did wonder why the mortal's husband hadn't done anything. Didn't he want his wife back? Or perhaps he just didn't believe in what went on up here on Olympus? Not many people believed in the old gods any more, he knew. That didn't matter much to him. They could believe or not; he could still screw up their lives if he wanted to. That old boy Shakespeare was closer to being right than he knew. "But the passing of a dream," indeed.

"How is she?" Cupid inquired of his mother with a smirk.

"You know damn well how she is, you little brat." The Goddess of Love was happy and temporarily sated, thanks to her latest conquest, who lay semi-comatose, recovering from her latest amorous ordeal on the softest of beds. "She's got more stamina than one would expect from a mortal, too. And did you hear those screams?"

Mother and son laughed, remembering the hapless mortal woman's screams of ecstasy.

"You know, things have been sort of hard on poor old Vulcan lately. All those wars, and everybody wants his stuff, so he's frightfully busy. Maybe I'll give her to him after I'm done with her. He'd absolutely love her!"

"But would she love him?"

"Oh, she'd learn to enjoy it. And if she didn't, what does it matter?" The two laughed together.

Cupid knew that one session with Vulcan, especially if he was in a bad mood, would leave the mortal completely broken and wishing only for death, even if she were to get back to her husband. He decided to give the poor sap one more clue.

Jeff received a phone call early the next morning. Officer Staten was sounding somewhere between frazzled and spooked.

"Something else has happened at the park. You need to meet me at Professor Sid's office as soon as you can."

"Okay, I'll drop the boys off at Prentiss's and be there as soon as I can." He was getting behind at his work, and he was going to owe the Prentisses big time, but what was that against the possibility, no matter how slim, of regaining Gina?

He found Officer Staten and Professor Sid staring at a set of photographs.

"I took these this morning, on the hill in the park," Officer Staten began. "Each of your wife's footprints seems to have sprouted a little clump of these blue flowers. And I know they weren't there yesterday." She paused, pointing at the pictures. "I looked them up. They're called Cupid's Dart. Or sometimes Compulsion of Love, or Greek Love Plant."

Jeff gulped. "This is just all too weird. How am I supposed to believe any of this crazy shit? This sort of thing doesn't happen. It just doesn't. I live in the State of Illinois, in the 21^st Century, not in the middle of some Greek myth."

"Yes, that's all true," Officer Staten said gently. "But it's also true that your wife has gone missing without a trace, without a struggle, and the only clues we have are these bizarre things that keep happening."

Prof. Sid cleared his throat. He somehow made the simple act sound dustier and more academic than should have been possible. "The most reasonable assumption available that covers the facts, is that someone wants to make you think that your wife was abducted by, or willingly went off with, the Greek goddess Aphrodite."

"And that someone," added Officer Staten, "is capable of breaking into your house without leaving a trace, pinning a note to your blanket without waking you up, and planting rose bushes and cornflowers without digging holes and without leaving footprints."

Jeff snorted. "If that's your most reasonable assumption, I'd sure hate to hear the ones that aren't reasonable."

"Um. Well, Jeff, perhaps I should have said, the only available assumption. We don't have any others." Prof. Sid went on. "Look, I'm as reluctant to believe this stuff as you are. You're completely right, this sort of thing just simply doesn't happen. Except it has."

Jeff broke the silence. "All right, if I buy this, uh, theory, what do we do now?"

"Yes, Professor, what do we do now?"

"How do you get someone back from Aphrodite?" Prof. Sid mused for a moment. "I don't know if that's ever been done before. There certainly isn't a manual. The ancients figured that if the gods wanted somebody, that was the end of it. They were gone for good. They were usually right, too. Unless the god rejected the human, for some reason."

"But remember, 'She was borrowed, and will be returned.' That sounds like they don't mean to keep her."

Professor Sid shook his head. "If we're right... I can't believe we're taking this seriously, but we don't seem to have any choice. Anyway, if we're right, the note was written by Cupid, and your wife was abducted or seduced by Aphrodite. She outranks Cupid, besides being his mother, so she would have no reason to keep a promise he made."

Jeff drove by the hilltop on his way home, hoping against hope to see Gina relaxing in the SUV, peacefully centering herself as she sometimes did. No such luck. He walked to the edge of the cliff, tracing the path of the little blue flowers, until he stood by the rosebush. He looked down the cliff, and could see signs of the police officers' fruitless search. "Please," he whispered. "Please, Gina. Please come home. We love you, and we need you far more than they do."

It was somber at the Clark house that night. The Prentisses had offered to have them all to dinner, but Jeff decided he'd imposed too much on them already. They shared tearful bedtime prayers and tried to sleep. The boys made a better success of it than their father.

*****

Cupid had given up. He still felt somewhat sorry for the husband and sons of his mother's latest toy, but was disgusted by their lack of constructive action. Didn't they love her at all? Those foolish mortals were dithering around trying to convince themselves of the obvious truth, instead of charging up Mount Olympus to try to rescue her. Now that might have been fun to watch. Instead, they did nothing. It wasn't fair, because the mortals had no chance no matter what they did. But Cupid didn't see it that way. He smiled as he listened to his mother playing with her pretty mortal toy. Did the woman know she was slowly being consumed, her humanity and innocence sacrificed in a vain attempt to slake the eternal thirst of the goddess? No, she probably didn't. They never did figure it out until the end. Meantime, what would be, would be. He sat down to listen to the mortal woman's helpless cries and hoarse shouts of ecstasy as she was used by the Goddess of Love. He loved this part.

Gina was worn out, exhausted in mind, body, and spirit, but suddenly she sat bolt upright in the soft bed, ignoring the protests from her aching but thoroughly sated body. Faint, but very clear, she heard someone calling. A desperate voice. A shout from a great distance. Calling her. She was too far away, and too muzzy-headed from all the sex, to make out words, but she knew the voice was calling her. Someone was seeking her. Someone outside this place of ambrosia, softness, and sex and more sex was calling her, desperately. She turned her head this way and that, trying to hear what from direction the call came. Faintly but undeniably, she could feel the echo of the voice in her heart. She stood on shaky legs, leaning against a wall for support. She briefly noted that she was naked, and threw a white robe, soft as a cloud, over her shoulders. Slowly, she made her way to the doorway.

"Well! Look who's up and about! I didn't expect you to be moving for a few hours yet, after that last session we had." There was a smirk in the goddess's voice. "You must be starving. Come, we shall dine, and then return to our pleasures."

Aphrodite extended her hand to the mortal woman, just as she had on the green hill now so far away. Gina felt her arm move, to place her hand trustingly in that of the goddess.

"I..." Gina's voice surprised them both. Her arm dropped to her side.

"I... must... go. I must go." Her voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse from her frenzied shouting, but grew in firmness.

Aphrodite laughed at her. "Dear me, Gina, whatever gave you such a notion? Don't you know that everything you ever wanted is right here?"

Gina stood for a moment, irresolute. Her mind was gradually clearing from the fog induced by days of nearly constant sex with the goddess.

"No. I... No. I must go. I am called." The faint but desperate voices she heard were becoming louder and clearer, or perhaps it was their echo in her heart.

"Oh, nonsense," scoffed the goddess. "Just come along like a good girl. The Goddess of Love will take very good care of you." She grasped the mortal's elbow to lead her down the cloud-strewn path. Gina turned toward her and their eyes met.

Aphrodite knew the instant she lost her hold over the mortal woman. She could see the pictures of a man and two boys appear in Gina's mind, first as small fuzzy blobs, but gaining clarity and size as she focused on them. Pictures of their friends appeared, too, and even that odd-looking wheeled thing she'd been sitting in at the top of the green hill.

"Goddess of love?" Gina's voice was still hoarse and soft, but firmer now.

"Of course. I proved it to you time after time. If you doubt, I can prove it to you again." The goddess chuckled in lewd anticipation.

"No. You are not love. I choose love, and I reject you."

There was no flash of lightning, no thunderbolts, no heavenly disruption of any kind. Suddenly, Gina was back on her hill, wearing her shopping clothes, sitting in her SUV, watching the sun rise. She shook her head to clear her mind.

"My, what a dream I've had! That shopping trip must have really worn me out." She looked out at the sunrise, at the dew on the grass. "Oh, no! I've been out here all night! Jeff and the boys must be frantic!" She started the trusty little engine, expertly turned the SUV around, and drove down the hill and home. The boys were just sitting down to breakfast, but jumped up and ran to her before she was even fully in the door.

"Mom! You came home!" they shouted excitedly as they each grabbed a leg and held on for dear life, effectively immobilizing her. "And you made it home for Dad's birthday! I knew you would!" Her older son was positive. "Now he really can have a happy birthday!"

Jeff made his way in from the kitchen and gently disengaged his sons from their mother. Gina instantly noticed that his face was pale, and he seemed to have aged five years.

"Jeff, I'm so sorry I worried you so. I don't know what happened. I was up on the hill, you know our place, and I must have fallen asleep and when I woke up, I found I'd stayed there overnight. I can't think how that happened."

Gina was trying to get the boys settled down and back to eating their breakfast when Jeff came into the kitchen, briefcase in hand. He took her hand and raised her from her chair, and hugged her so hard she thought she heard her ribs squeak. She heard tears in his voice as he whispered in her ear, "Gina Clark, I love you so. Thank God you're home!"

"Goodness!" she exclaimed, slightly out of breath. "I know you must have been worried sick, but you act as if I'd been gone a week!" One of the boys was about to blurt something out, but was silenced by a look from his father.

"By the way, Gina, Randy sort of dropped a hint that Jane would like some time to run errands today. If you could have their boys over for a while, she'd probably appreciate it." Jeff figured it was about time to begin paying Jane back for nearly a week of riding herd on four boys. He also thought Gina might not want to be left alone with her thoughts too much.

"Will do. See you tonight!" They exchanged their usual tender kiss, and Jeff headed off to work with a much lighter heart than he'd had for days.

Jane accepted Gina's offer, conveyed with nearly incoherent eagerness by the two Clark boys. Meanwhile, Gina changed her clothes and cleaned up after breakfast. When the boys arrived, Gina threw herself into Mom mode and thoroughly enjoyed every minute. They swam in the pool, chased each other around the yard, played on every single toy at the park (Gina, too: no way was she going to be left out!), and wolfed down a nutritious lunch of hot dogs and ice cream. "I've never tasted anything better than this," Gina thought, in between wiping mustard off young faces. "This is the life I choose, and the life I want. Everything I want is right here, nowhere else. I know the boys will grow up so this won't last forever, but I'm going to relish every bit of it while it's here. And on top of it all, I'll always have Jeff. I'm the luckiest woman in the world!"

On Olympus, Aphrodite fumed. Mortals weren't supposed to reject the Goddess of Love, especially after all that sex. This one had been especially enjoyable, too. With that innocence about her, she'd been like one of those chocolates that gives you the satisfying crunch as your teeth crush through the hard shell outside, then the sweetness as you suck out the soft, gooey center. Yes, she'd enjoyed this one, this Gina, right until she'd rejected her. And for love, no less! That wasn't supposed to happen. And she certainly wasn't supposed to be so happy about it! Cupid saw his mother's mood and decided that he would spend his day somewhere the Goddess of Love wasn't.

The inevitable happened when Rob, the older Clark boy, woke up from his nap. "What are we doing about tomorrow, Mom?" He whispered, so as not to wake up the others.

"Tomorrow? What's tomorrow?"

"Dad's birthday, of course! How could you forget?"

"I didn't forget, honey. It's the 27^th, just like it is every year. Today's the 23^rd, so we have plenty of time."

"No, Mom, today's the 26^th."

"Rob, I'm sorry, honey, you need to check again. Here, let's go to the calendar."

"I know I'm right, Mom." He was very sure of himself. He was barely six, but very proud of his ability to tell dates and times.

They walked to the kitchen and opened the pantry door. There hung the big calendar, and every date through the 25^th had been crossed off. Gina staggered, clutching the kitchen counter for support.

"Mom, are you okay?"

"Y... Yes, honey. Thank you, I'm fine. I just..." I just realized I was gone for almost a week, Gina thought to herself. Oh, God, my poor family, what they must have suffered. She hugged her oldest son, her firstborn, to her as if she was afraid she would lose him. She willed the tears not to fall from her eyes, but they did anyway.

"I saw you last night." Gina seized both of her young son's shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

"I did," he went on before she could get out a word. "I was asleep, but I wasn't, you know. You were wearing some kind of white robe, and there were white pillars all around. There was a mountain, too. I tried to call out to you, but I couldn't even hear myself. But that's when I knew you were coming home. I told Dad, and he said I was right. And I was, too!"