GREEK MYTHOLOGY

Danny Paulk

Centenary College of Louisiana

“Myths are stories about people who become too big for their lives temporarily, so that they crash into other lives or brush against gods. In crisis their souls are visible.” - Anne Carson

July 1996

From the treehouse in the backyard, the yellow light pouring out of the house’s windows into the blue night made them all look like little shadow boxes, with parent and child puppets wandering from room to room inside. It was more of a big wooden platform suspended ten feet up the tree than a treehouse; they had a little corner near the back with a sheet of tin laid over it for when it rained, or when they decided to sleep up there. Bug Robinson was sitting with her legs dangling over the edge of the platform, lightly swinging them in the warm July evening. Her body was good and tired from walking through the fields smashing crawfish mounds with her brother, earlier in the day. She clicked her flashlight on and off absently while she watched through the windows for her mom. They had dinner without Dad again, and it was always too quiet without him there. The sound of voices and dishes being washed floated through the air, percussion to the noisy soprano of the cicada song. Her dad had taken to calling her “Bug” again recently, and she couldn’t explain why, but it made her feel smug and satisfied. Her class in school was reading To Kill a Mockingbird, and she had tried getting everyone to start calling her Scout or Dill, to little success, but Bug worked well enough. She was trying to get her mom to at least call her Bug too, but Mom always calmly reminded her that she was named after her grandma and that was that. Her dad rarely called her anything else these days and even Cal had picked it up. Speaking of Cal, she was expecting him any minute now. It was late, and Dad still wasn’t home yet. She sighed and reached for her Illustrated Book of Greek Myths. Mom had managed to find an entire set of them at the thrift store: there was a Greek one, a Roman one, and an Egyptian one. She got them last Christmas and read them all in under a month. By now she’d read each of them about five times, but the Greek was her favorite. She’d read it so much that the thin laminate from the cover was peeling at the edges, and the cardboard spine was exposed and

fraying at either end. Her favorite so far was still Hercules. In boring classes, like math, she liked to sit and try and imagine herself as Hercules’s best friend, tagging along from Labor to Labor and providing witty, helpful commentary. Sometimes she tried to think up a myth of her own, but she didn’t have any good ideas for one yet. Still, being friends with Hercules was fun. Sometimes she even yelled at Zeus. Yellow headlights. Dad was finally home. The car door slammed like an ax thunking in wood and she followed the dark outline of his body from window to window until it joined that of her mother, washing dishes by the kitchen sink still. Hands flew and heads turned back and forth like some sort of transformation sequence in a scary cartoon; she half expected her parents to fuse together or else turn into a giant, multi-limbed monster at any time. They were yelling at each other, but she couldn’t make out what was being said. As if on cue, the back door creaked open and the beam of Cal’s flashlight was visible, sliding over the bright green of his rubber boots as he ran down the steps and into the grass. The screen door slammed behind him; their parents didn’t react. Bug shifted to help him up as he came climbing the treehouse ladder. “Hey, bud,” she said. “Hi,” Cal said, quiet, chewing on his sleeve. “How are you doing?” “Okay,” “Okay. Did you brush your teeth?” “Yes.” “Mmm. Breath test,” Cal grinned and breathed a loud “HAAAH” all over her face. Mint and bub-

blegum.

“Good job.” They sat in silence for a minute. “Bug?” “Yeah?” “Will you read to me?” “Yeah, ‘course I will. C’mere,” Cal clambered to sit in between her legs. She grabbed her Greek mythology reader and opened it in front of them so Cal could see the pictures and she could see the words. “Hold the flashlight up,” He settled back against her chest, getting comfortable. She started reading.

August 2002

Jason Robinson stared into the bathroom mirror, combing his hair with his fingers: neat, then messy, then neat, then messy again. He leaned back and examined his body, turning side to side in the small space. He looked good. He

breathed out, making eye contact with his reflection. “You’re a cool guy, Jason Robinson. A good son. Good friend.” He walked out of the bathroom and through the hallway to the kitchen. His dad called out from the kitchen table, “Hey, Bug,” He cleared his throat a little, but it came out cracked anyways. “Hey, Dad. Can I take the car?” His dad hummed an affirmative without looking up from the newspaper. Jason gave his thanks before heading out the back door to the beat-up 1985 Toyota Camry that served as their family vehicle. All the upholstery on the seats was peeling, and one door panel on the outside was a different color than the rest, but Jason had always had a secret soft spot for the Camry and its familiar old car smell. As he pulled out of the driveway, the tire pressure light flashed; he hit a pothole and it turned off again. God bless Louisiana roads. He was headed to the river to meet up with Lilith. When he pulled into the little clearing on the higher side of the lock and dam, she was already standing there, staring dramatically off into the distance as a cigarette smoldered between her fingers at her side. They’d both been inseparable since grade school and ended up coming out to each other within the same month when they were both fourteen. There wasn’t anybody in his life who knew him like she did, and he was proud and warm to be able to say the same for her. She turned her head, alerted by the sound of gravel crunching under his tires, and smiled at him. “Hey, Romeo,” she smirked as he wandered over to the riverbank to stand beside her. “I’m not gonna start calling you Juliet,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smil-

ing, too.

“Obviously not. I’m clearly more of a Titania, anyways.” She considered him with faux seriousness. “And you are kind of an ass, I guess.” “Har har har.” He took her cigarette when she offered it and breathed deep, but he ended up coughing most of the smoke back up. She raised a brow at him.

“My mortal grossness,” he gestured. She grinned. “But seriously, Jay, you shouldn’t bind your chest so tightly. You’re gonna mess up your ribs or something,” He made a noncommittal noise, staring out over the water. The sun was just starting to set, and the oranges and yellows were rich and deep. He turned back to Lilith, blinking the phosphenes out of his eyes. She was fully lit by the setting sun, turning her skin a gorgeous golden pink. There was something about the way she was, the way she held herself; he would never understand how anyone could ever question her womanhood. The way she held her cigarette loosely, almost daintily, between two fingers, the arch of her brows, the chipped nail polish, the way she leaned back at the hip. She embodied “girl.” He had a guilty little jealousy of her, in that way. Her expression seemed much more poetic than his own stum-

bling steps into masculinity, all baggy hoodies and ugly sneakers. “Have you told your parents, yet?” “No,” he sighed. “But I will before I leave in August.” She nodded. “And everything’s all good with your school?” “Yeah. I managed to get in touch with a current student there. Says he’ll help me find a roommate, and he’ll connect me with his doctor for hormones and everything,” She nodded along, considering. “What about you?” He bent down and started looking for good skipping rocks, picking them up one at a time and turning them over in his hands, feeling out the surface with his thumbs for any imperfections. “Are you folks still talking about that military college?” “Yeah. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I don’t want to, but I might just end up stuck here getting whipped by the Bible Belt for another year,” Jason cleared his throat a little, fiddling with one of the flat skipping stones. “You know, you could always come with me. I’d pay our rent. We could go together.” Her mouth tightened sadly at the corners and Jason interrupted her before she could say anything. “Right, cool, you don’t want to, that’s fine.” He avoided her eyes, hurling the stone out on the water. It skipped four times, then sank. “I do love you,” Lilith said to him, all sweetness and understanding and no

pity.

“No, no, I know. I love you, too.” She smiled at him again and bent to snuff out the last of the cigarette. The tension broken, she straightened back up, and regarded him curiously. “What about your little brother? What are you gonna tell him? Are you gonna tell him?” Jason smiled nervously. “Believe it or not, I actually have a plan for how I’m gonna explain it to him. If I can pull it off, it’ll be easier telling him than my parents.” She nodded in sympathy. “That’s good. I’m glad.” She waited until he made eye contact to continue, emphasizing each word. “I’m really happy for you, Jason.” His lips quirked. “I know, Lil.” “Good.” “Good.” “…I love you, Romeo.” “I love you, too…Titania.”

That night, he clambered up into the old treehouse again to wait for Cal. It was more or less the same as it had been six years ago, although now there were

holes in some of the wood planks, and the tin sheet they used for a roof to keep out the rain had long since rusted over. Jason unfolded and refolded the yellow piece of note paper in his hands, nervous. Cal was his kid brother. His opinion meant more to Jason than practically anyone else’s. Eventually the screen door creaked out in the blue evening and Cal came gliding over the grass towards the tree line where the treehouse was. He was a quiet, thoughtful kid; quieter than Jason himself had been at that age. Pensive. It worried Jason sometimes, as much as it made him proud. Cal sometimes walked as though he was carrying every harsh word he’d overheard between their parents with him on his back. His little brother was so mature, but that maturity also spoke of years of carefree playfulness that felt stolen somehow. Cal’s head popped up over the ledge. “Hey, buddy,” Jason said, patting the wood next to him for Cal to sit. “Hey,” Cal said back. “I got your note.” “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about something.” “Is it about Mom and Dad?” “No. But you also can’t tell them. They’ll find out eventually, but they need to hear it from me.” Cal’s brows furrowed. “What’s wrong? Did someone die?” “No! No, of course not. It’s nothing bad, I promise. It just might be sort of confusing at first. It’s about me.” “Okay. Is it—is it about your school?” Jason laughed a little bit despite himself. “You know, I could just tell you if you stopped trying to guess.” “Okay. So, what is it?” Jason took a deep breath. “Cal, do you know what transgender means?” Cal shook his head, his eyes huge and shiny in the low light. “Alright. It’s like…sometimes people are born boys, but then become girls. Or the other way around. And sometimes people aren’t boys or girls? Those are transgender people,” Cal’s brow furrowed, not in anger but in confusion. “I don’t think I understand, Bug. So, what, you can just, become the opposite sex?” “Well, I mean, not overnight, but yeah, essentially. And you can be just as much a man or a woman as anyone else. Sort of like…sometimes people get mislabeled at birth, and later on they find out they’re actually something different. Like when you accidentally put a spoon in the fork drawer. You know?” “Okay…” Cal was nodding along, but he still looked a little lost. “So, why are you telling me this?” “Because I am. Transgender, I mean. I’m a guy, Cal.” “You—” Cal’s eyes were saucers, but he still didn’t look upset. Jason

rushed to explain. “And you know, it doesn’t change anything. I’m still gonna be me and I will always be your sibling and love you more than anything, but I’m gonna look different. And I, uh, I’m changing my name. And I’m gonna ask everyone to call me he, you know, just like any other guy.” Cal was quiet for a long time. “Is this…is this a joke?” It stung a little, but Jason knew it wasn’t his fault. He was young and confused. Jason could empathize. “No, buddy, I’m afraid not.” This was the part he wasn’t really sure about. But, if it worked, he would know that he had his little brother for life, no matter what. “I, uh, I wrote something. To try and help you understand. If you want to hear it.” Cal was quiet for a long time again. Jason could practically see the gears turning in his head. “Okay,” he said, softly. Jason’s heart was beating a punishing staccato against the inside of his ribcage. But, when he unfolded the yellow piece of note paper he’d written, his hands did not shake. “You remember how I used to read you Greek myths? This is sort of like that. This is…If I were a myth, this is what I would be.” He cleared his throat, and started reading:

In the old days, when the Sun chased the Moon not only side to side, but also up and down, around the Earth, all young Boys wanted to become Men. Virtually everyone wanted to become Men, except for some few Women and some fewer who were Neither or Both or All. There was one young Boy who had been told he could never become a Man because he had been taught all of his life that he was a Girl, and the only way for Girls was to become Women. “Well, how do the other Boys become Men? Maybe I shall do what they do and see myself prospering of the same results.” “The other young Boys are transformed of Body and of Mind; they do this by finding the Bodies and Minds of Men out in the Wilderness.” “Then I shall do the same.” And so, the young Boy-called-Girl set out in the Wilderness to become a Man. First, he sought a Voice with depth; for depth he sought the Ocean. “Hello, Ocean. I have come for depth of Voice, for I am to become a Man.” “Hello, To-Become-Man. You may reap my depths, but first, you must retrieve my favorite Conch Shell, who has been swept from the shore to the deepest of my trenches.”

And so, he swam to the bottom of the Ocean, and retrieved the Ocean’s favorite

Conch Shell. Placing the Shell back upon the dry Beach, he thanked the Ocean, and when he did he spoke with all the Depth of the blue waters of the Earth. Next, he needed his Body to be stronger. So, he sought out the great Earthquakes, which are so strong that they move the Earth. This was a difficult task, because the Earthquakes moved quickly and unpredictably. Finally, he caught one, and stood still among the shaking of the Earth, and spoke with the new depth of his Voice, “Oh, great Earthquakes. I am here because I am to become a Man, and I will need the Strength of Body which you exert upon the very Earth.” “Hello, To-Become-Man. We will lend you our strength, but first you must hold together the two pieces of the Earth which we have split apart in our vigor.” And so, he stretched his Body across the Gap and held the Earth together with his Arms and Legs. When he stood again, he was stronger than ever before. “Thank you,” he said to the Earthquakes. Last, he would need a new Name which would represent that he had gone through the Trials to Become a Man. It would represent all of his new Wisdom and Maturity. He went to a very wise Oracle, but she told him that she could not help him. “But you see the Future! You can tell me what Name I choose.” “I am sorry, Young Man. Only you may choose a Name by which to proclaim yourself.” And so, the Young Man left, saddened, and consulted many books and Wise Men for many years, reading the names of heroes but finding none which fit himself. Every night, he gazed at the Stars, which were random as spilled salt across the Sky. It was here that the Young Man had the Idea to find his Name in the Stars, the way that other Wise Men found the Bodies of Heroes and Monsters. He searched the stars for letters every night for years, until finally he had spelled a Name which fit himself. “I shall be Jason.” And thus, the Boy-Called-Girl became the Man-Called-Jason.

Jason’s throat was dry from talking by the end. He cleared it a little, feeling stupid and childish at the same time as he felt proud of the words he’d found to describe his journey. “So?” he said eventually when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “I think…I think I get it. Jason. How did you choose that name, really?” Cal was quieter than ever, but his voice was sincere. “In the myths, he’s Medea’s husband. I just liked the way it sounded. It means ‘healer,’ in the Greek.” Cal hummed in acknowledgment. Jason leaned closer, touching their shoulders together. “This doesn’t change us, you know. I’m always gonna love you more than anything. Just now, I can love you as a brother, instead of a sister.” Cal nodded along. He turned to Jason in the low light, and leaned heavier against his side, tucking his head under Jason’s chin, just like when they were

younger. “Jason suits you,” he said, and nothing more. Jason smiled into his little brother’s hair, and together they gazed quietly at the stars, interrupted only by the occasional twinkling of the lightning bugs.