Down
Time
By
Richard Zwicker
“Where
is Theseus? Where is my husband?” Antiope asked
Heracles. Her black hair tumbled to her broad
shoulders as she brandished her spear, bringing the
raucous, two-day house party to a halt. Four Amazon
attendants flanked her. Three were breathtakingly
beautiful in a muscle-bound sort of way. Alala wore
jagged loops of metal from ankle to thigh. She tied
her waist-length, black hair in a ponytail. Megaira
wore breast plate armor and a pointed helmet, even
when she went to bed. Dorkas was wiry and cut her hair
short, as if warning it not to get in her way. The
fourth, a diminutive man, had the name Sebastos embossed
across his chest.
Heracles,
heavily under Bacchus’s influence, looked up from an
arm-wrestling match with the Oracle of Athenai. In
Heracles’ tight, scanty loincloth, most of his bulging
muscles were visible. In contrast, the oracle’s
shapeless cloak made him look like a haystack.
“You know, I’m in the middle of something,”
Heracles bristled through his beard, though the oracle
had spoiled things by revealing the strongman would
win.
Antiope’s attendants converged on Heracles.
“You have an overarching need to commit macho acts,”
said Alala, the attendant with metal leglets.
“This
indicates doubts about your masculinity,” said
Megaira, the armored attendant.
“You should get in touch with your feminine side,”
said Dorkas, the shorthaired Amazon.
Sebastos nodded emphatically.
After making a mental note to stop going to
Antiope’s parties, Heracles defeated the oracle, then
stared at Sebastos. “What I don't understand is what
you're doing with a group of Amazons.”
“I
was adopted,” said Sebastos.
Heracles felt the sharp point of Antiope’s
spear.
“Where is my husband?” she hissed.
Heracles winced. “He and Pirithous mentioned
something about going to the underworld, which I tried
to discourage. Been there, done that, don’t want to do
it again.”
“This is an outrage!” Antiope said. “Amazons
mate once a year, and that day is… the day after
tomorrow.” Her deep eyes widened. “Sisters,” she said
to her attendants. “We need to take a walk.” Alala,
Megaira, Dorkas, and Sebastos nodded and followed
Antiope to the door. Before leaving, Antiope glanced
back at Heracles and the oracle. “If you’re not going
to help, you can clean up the house.”
Littered with half-empty goblets, spilt wine,
and strewn food, the house looked like Atlas had
picked it up and dropped it.
“I am receiving bad vibrations about this,”
the oracle said.
“About the house or the underworld?” Heracles
asked.
“Both. Mostly the house.”
Heracles felt guilty about revealing
Theseus’s trip, but everyone knew the dangers of the
underworld. If Hades didn’t get him, Antiope would.
Sighing, he straightened his loincloth and strode to
the door.
“Been
there. Done that. Doing it again.”
###
The shadowy water of the River Styx drifted
like an aimless spirit, reflecting the emptiness of
everyone’s future. Slow, irregular footfalls on rocky
terrain signaled the approach of two tired men.
Pirithous’s gung-ho expression contrasted with
Theseus’s deepening, bearded scowl.
“You're not having second thoughts about
this, are you?” Pirithous asked, halting at the river.
His head of dark curls and impossibly handsome baby
face made verbal gravity a challenge.
Theseus leaned his muscular body against a
rock-ribbed wall. “Of course, but as I've never known
you to have a second thought in your life, I don't see
any point in sharing.”
Pirithous’s face softened. “We are comrades.
Please, tell me anything.”
Theseus looked doubtfully at his friend. “Did
it ever occur to you that Hades, or for that matter,
Persephone won’t go along with this?”
“No.
From what I've heard, Hades really loves Persephone
and wants what is best for her. I think Persephone is
going to be flattered when she sees the trouble we're
going through. And besides, I have a great opening
line for when we meet.”
“She's
not going to be flattered that you want to kidnap her,
even if we walked on our hands blindfolded to the
underworld. Hades will be even less impressed. He
doesn't like people leaving his realm.”
“He
doesn't like dead
people leaving his realm, but Persephone is still
alive. Do you honestly think a young woman is going to
be satisfied by the master of the underworld, even if
he is a god? I'll bet she wakes up every morning
thinking, I'm
tired of living in this hole in the ground. I'm
tired of giving parties for dead people. And
it’s got to be a great hardship for Hades to support a
live person in the underworld. He must have to import
everything. Where does he get his water, his fruits
and vegetables? He'll probably thank me for taking
this burden off his hands.”
Theseus
brushed drops of sweat from his forehead.
“First of all, Persephone is not a person, she’s a
goddess. She’s no more out of place in the underworld
than Hades is. Second, do you like the seasons?”
Pirithous thought for a moment. “Well, I like
spring. That's when I start to feel kind of frisky.”
“The only reason we have four seasons is
because of the months Persephone spends in the
underworld. You'd change the lives of all Greeks just
to satisfy your lust?”
Pirithous shrugged. “Sure. Wouldn't anybody?”
Theseus threw up his hands. He’d consented to
this trip because rescuing Pirithous from his crazy
ideas was what
he did. Without question, the younger man
brought zest to his life, but Theseus’s years of
adventures had left a trail of broken hearts and
death. Both he and the adventures were getting old. He
would allow Pirithous his caper one last time, though
he wished it didn’t involve crossing Hades. After
this, he would either rein his friend in or cut ties.
But first, there was the obstacle of the river.
Theseus stuck his hand in, then yanked it out.
“That's hot! How are we going to cross this?”
As if in answer, the water churned and
frothed. Theseus and Pirithous stepped back as wisps
of smoke assumed the shape of a disgruntled old man.
His stringy white hair, curling fingers, and long nose
resembled writhing worms.
“You
will not cross the River Styx,” the spirit droned.
“The only way is aboard Charon's boat, and I've tried
everything. I've offered him gold, the rags off my
back. I even said I'd swab his deck. Result: here I
stay.”
“I
thought ferrying dead people across the river was his
job,” said
Theseus.
“Well,
he’s got no competition. No one else wants that cursed
job, least of all him. I never met such a negative
person in my life. There's no point in even waiting
for him. You have a better chance of Poseidon giving
you a lift on his sea horse.” The spirit looked
longingly at the two men.
“Say, you didn't bring along any live
animals, did you?”
“No, we're fresh out of live animals,” said
Pirithous.
The spirit stared at the two men. “By Zeus’s
thunderbolt, what I wouldn't do for a few drops of
warm blood.”
There was an extended pause. As time didn’t
mean anything in the underworld, it occurred to
Theseus that this could go on forever. “Well, we’ll be
on our way.” That left the problem of how to get
across the river, but soon they heard long, soft,
swishing noises. As the volume increased, Theseus
recognized the sounds of a boat being poled up the
Styx. The two men and one spirit stared downriver,
and, after a few moments, tall, unsmiling, bearded
Charon pulled his boat up in front of them. The spirit
dashed to the ancient boatman.
“Charon, I see you've got some space in your
boat. How about a ride?”
Charon looked left, right, up, and down. “No
customers today? Guess I'll just go back to the other
side.”
“You're
not funny, Charon!” the spirit sputtered. “You're the
death of the party. You are to humor what Zeus is to
marital fidelity. Something funny happened on the way
to the underworld, and it wasn't you. If Odysseus can
call himself No
Man, you should call yourself No
comedian. If I could get my hands on one
tree---one tree, with an advanced case of
termites--I'd build a raft and put you out of
business!”
Charon addressed the two men. “I keep him
here for atmosphere, though it may be time for a
change. Who are you?”
Pirithous cleared his throat. “We’re two
Greeks with an appointment to speak to Hades.”
Charon looked at them, puzzled. “I'm sure you
are and that you do, but aren't you early? You're
still alive.”
“My philosophy is, don't
put off until tomorrow what you can do today,”
Pirithous said.
“That's just it. You can't do it today. You
have to wait until you die. I can't take two live
people across the River Styx.”
“Why not?” asked Pirithous.
“The liability for one thing. What if you get
hurt during the passage? Who do you think is going to
be held responsible?”
“What if we sign an agreement freeing you of
all responsibility?” Theseus asked.
Charon scratched his beard. “That could work,
but you'd have to pay double the passage fee. Two
coins each in the mouth of the dead man.”
“What -- ” the spirit said, but Pirithous
jammed four coins into the spirit’s mouth, causing him
to choke and fall to the ground.
After Theseus and Pirithous signed a clay
tablet, Charon said, “All right. Come with me.”
“Wait,”
Theseus said. “Once we get across the river, which way
is it to the underworld?”
“Oh,
right. First you take a left on Hekatonkheiris Street,
then proceed to the third right, which will be
Mnemosyne Lane. Then you take the road that veers to
the left, which some people call Scylla and
others call Charybdis. Whatever you do, stay
in the middle of that. Next take a hard right at the
intersection of Clotho and Atropos. You’ll pass
Harpies Way, but don’t take that or you’ll never hear
the end of it. Finally, just bear straight up Eros
Alley. I’d recommend not following the arrows,
though.”
Pirithous glanced at Theseus. “Did you get
all that?”
“I can't even remember the question. Why
can't you give your roads names like Pleasant Street?”
“Pleasant
Street? In the underworld?” asked Charon.
Theseus frowned. “Is there another way?”
“Oh, sure. Just carry on. You can't miss it.”
“What
did you just tell us to take Heka-whatsis, Charybdis,
and the third left after Harpy Way for?” Theseus asked
angrily.
“I thought you'd want to see the sights. Most
people aren't in a hurry to get to the underworld.
It's kind of the end of the road.”
“We're
just visiting. We'll be back,” Pirithous said.
“Don't
bet on it,” Charon said flatly as the two men climbed
into his boat.
###
Some time later, Heracles, Antiope, and her
attendants reached the riverbank of the Styx.
“What time is it?” Antiope asked.
“I don't know. My sundial stopped,” Heracles
said.
“This is no joking matter. It is a sacred
tradition that Amazons mate once a year to continue
our race. If we don't find Theseus soon, I will have
to … improvise.”
She looked appraisingly at Heracles.
“Calm
down. We'll find him.” He studied the river. “I just
don’t know how.”
“This
is so typical of males,” said Alala, the metal-looped
attendant. “They have a responsibility and what do
they do? Run off. Completely undependable.”
“It is a shame we cannot live our lives independent of
them,” said Sebastos.
Heracles winced. “Sebastos, how can you say
these things about your own sex?”
“I have my reasons,” he said, smiling wanly.
“One of these days I'm going to get you away
from them,” Heracles vowed, then became silent when he
realized he’d just made two promises next to the River
Styx. If he didn’t come through with both of them,
according to legend he’d have to drink from it, which
rendered a person mute for nine years. Once again, the
soft, brushing sound of a pole broke the silence, and
the hoary figure of Charon reappeared.
“Oh no. Not you again,” Charon said,
grimacing.
“This wasn't my idea,” Heracles said.
“Why
don't you just eat some pomegranate seeds and be done
with it?”
“Look.
We just want to get Theseus and Pirithous. You don't
want them here, we don't want them here. We can work
something out.”
“My
boat is a transport for dead people. It wasn't meant
to ferry flesh and blood.”
“Let me reason with him,” Antiope said.
She grabbed Charon, lifted him over her head, and
tossed him into the water. Sputtering, he swam toward
his boat, but backed off as Antiope waved her spear.
“Let's go.”
“You certainly have a way with men,” Heracles
said as they boarded the boat. He started poling.
Antiope nodded. “Talk softly, carry a big
stick, and apply when needed.”
###
The oppressive walls of the cavern gave way
to a large, open area. Pirithous and Theseus stepped
gingerly onto a narrow, winding path. A sheer drop
into smoldering oblivion hugged both sides. In front
of them loomed the dark, forbidding castle of Hades,
an enormous rectangle of stone under a narrowing tower
that pierced the red and gray sky. Blasted mountains
of rock flanked the castle like giant husks. At a loss
for words, the two men approached the iron front door.
To their surprise, it had been left unguarded and
open. Pirithous glanced at his friend.
“Don’t you dare say, After
you,” said Theseus.
“Just wanted to make sure you were still with
me,” said Pirithous.
They entered. A short hall led to a large,
gloomy room with bare walls of unpolished gold. Ornate
pots filled with stones were randomly placed on the
cold floor. Two simple chairs were set in the center.
Standing to their left, a silent, long-tressed woman
examined a dull gem.
“That's
her, Persephone,” said Pirithous.
“She
doesn't look very happy,” said Theseus.
“That's because she hasn't met me yet. Wait
until you hear my great opening line.” Pirithous
stepped forward. “What's a nice girl like you doing in
a place like this?”
“That
was your great opening line?” Theseus asked.
Persephone watched, stone-faced, her days of
romping through meadows forgotten. Undaunted,
Pirithous pulled out a faded bouquet of flowers from
his sack and handed it to Persephone. “For you.”
Persephone examined the flowers. “They're
dead.”
“Well, of course they're dead,” Pirithous
said, annoyed. “What was I supposed to do? Dig up the
whole garden and drag it down here? Even if I had,
they wouldn't have survived long without the sun.”
“Neither will you,” Persephone said.
Theseus and Pirithous exchanged uneasy
glances.
“Maybe you should make some small talk,” Theseus said,
without enthusiasm.
“Right.
I have another great line.” He turned to Persephone.
“So, where have you been all my life?”
“We’re doomed,” Theseus lamented.
“Don’t mind him,” Pirithous said. “I believe
relationships should bring out the best in each
person. That is clearly not the case with you and
Hades. You make the master of the underworld, the one
god who must be clear-headed and impartial at all
times, weak and clouded. He stifles your beauty, your
love of nature, your life. I have come to save you
from this place where you don't belong.”
It was all a lie, Theseus thought.
Pirithous didn’t really care about Persephone. He was
there for the challenge. Never had that reasoning
seemed less justified.
“I
know why you came,” Persephone said, as if she had
read Theseus’ mind.
Pirithous turned to Theseus. “She’s not the
greatest conversationalist.”
At that moment Hades entered. Tall and regal,
wearing a simple crown over his dark hair and a loose
cloak over his body, his manner was as expansive as
Persephone’s was dour. “I bid you welcome and commend
your bravery in making the trip to my realm. I will
listen to your arguments as to why I should surrender
my wife to you. Please have a seat.”
“I told you he'd be understanding,” Pirithous
said to Theseus.
“He's
being too understanding.”
As Pirithous and Theseus sat in the chairs,
two vacuous smiles appeared on their faces.
“You certainly went to a lot of trouble, but
I guess that seems far away since you are now both
sitting on chairs of forgetfulness,” said Hades.
“You've lost your reason for coming. It won't even
occur to you to get off the chairs. It's really not
such a bad way to spend eternity. Maybe I should have
told you before you sat down, but I forgot.”
“I’m sure I don’t want two men sitting in my
living room for the rest of eternity,” Persephone
said.
At that moment Heracles, Antiope, and the
Amazon attendants entered.
“Maybe we can take them off your hands,” said
a limping Heracles.
“This really is a living
room,” Hades said, turning to Heracles. “You again?
What do you think this is, a vacation resort? What
happened to your leg?”
“Cerberus, your damned dog, sunk all three
sets of his teeth into me.” Heracles limped to the two
chairs. “What did you do to them? They look like their
brains have turned to mush.”
“They're
men,” said Dorkas, the short-haired attendant. “I
don't see any difference.”
Antiope stalked over to Theseus, brandishing
her spear. “Get up this instant, or I'll use your body
for a sheath.”
“As
long as he's sitting on a chair of forgetfulness, he
won't understand anything you say,” said Persephone.
“Then
he needs to get off.” Heracles strained to lift
Theseus. The smile on Theseus’s face vanished as he
was pulled to his feet.
“That
was comfortable. I could sit in that chair forever,”
said Theseus.
“You would have, if it wasn't for us.”
Heracles glared at Pirithous. “I'm tempted to leave
that loser here, but …” He clasped his arms around the
seated man and strained but could not lift him off.
“That’s odd.”
“You’re not trying,” said Theseus, who
grabbed onto his friend and pulled until the walls
shook, but Pirithous didn’t budge.
“What’s going on?” he asked Hades.
“This one is mine,” Hades said. “He has
tempted fate once too often. Everyone needs a little
down time, but there has to be a balance. Too much
down time and you end up down here that much
sooner.”
Hades’ words hit Theseus like a death
sentence. He thought how much of his life had been
spent doing guy
things, and sitting oblivious in front of him was the
guy he did them with. In desperation, he rushed at
Hades, only to be knocked to the floor by a gauntleted
slap.
“You might consider finding something else to
give your life meaning,” Hades continued. “Your wife,
for instance.”
Theseus massaged the left side of his face.
He couldn’t free Pirithous, and if he stayed, he
wouldn’t even remember him. But how could he live
knowing he’d failed his friend?
“I cannot desert him.” Theseus stepped toward
the empty chair.
“No!” Antiope threw her muscular arms around
her husband in restraint.
Hades stepped between Theseus and the chair.
“Be thankful your wife cares more for you than
Pirithous did.”
“Why should I be spared?” asked Theseus.
“I’m offering you the rest of your life to
figure that out,” said Hades.
Theseus stopped pulling from his wife. One
thing about the god of the underworld: he didn’t
change his mind. The time had come for him to do
something the gods never did: grow up.
“I’m sorry,” he said to everyone. “Let’s go.”
“Good advice,” Hades said. “And Heracles, I
don't want to see your face down here again.”
“Don't
worry,” Heracles said. “I have it on good authority
I’ll soon be made a full-fledged god. I should be able
to stay out of here until then.”
The Amazon attendants walked up to
Persephone. “Stand up for your rights, sister,” said
Megaira, the armored attendant.
“See
you in the spring,” she said, her voice soft but sure.
Antiope turned to Theseus. “Do you know what
time it is?”
“Time for me to stop leading with my chin?”
asked Theseus.
“No. It took a day to get here,” Antiope
said. “It will take another day to return, which would
make it -- .” With that, Antiope yanked Theseus out of
the room.
Heracles
turned to Sebastos.
“I still don't know why you put up with this
arrangement.”
Sebastos puffed out his chest. “Because
they're all Amazons. This is the time of year I get my
fringe benefits.”
Alala, Megaira, and Dorkas pulled him out of
the room. Heracles followed, feeling a little left
out.
Hades glanced at Persephone. “The things we
do for love.”