The Pantheon (22 page)

“
She didn’t even talk on the way to school, but she didn’t walk with Peter.”

“
Give her some time,” he said. “That’s a lot to process. Just... give her time to work it out. She’ll talk to you when she’s ready.”

Jason stepped away from Celene and went back to his desk. He sat on the edge, watching her for a moment, wondering how he had gotten tangled in this supernatural debacle. He supposed it was easier, as an outsider, to be their mentor. How was Celene handling it?

“
Drink some water,” he finally said. That was Jason’s solution for everything. Celene filled a paper cup from the tap and pounded it back like a shot of some hard liquor.

“
I’ve got labs to grade,” she said. “Thank you, Jason.”

“
Any time, Celene.”

After dinner Peter did his own dishes and sat down to watch TV. Almost everything good was on hiatus until the end of January. The only thing new was reality TV. Whose reality? Not his.

His father came home and threw an empty fast food bag away. Peter didn’t look up long enough to see what it was. It didn’t matter. They all served the same greasy burger and fries.

Peter turned the TV down and watched his father empty the keys and change from his pockets. Mr. Hadley was a tall, intimidating man with a graying beard and a booming voice. Peter looked nothing like him.

“
How was work?” Peter asked.

His father shrugged, “It was work.”

Peter picked up the remote again and changed the channel. He didn’t feel like watching people eat bugs.

“
You do your homework?” his father asked.

“
Yeah, and I ate.”

Mr. Hadley sat in his grey plaid arm-chair. It was his throne. Peter wasn’t allowed to sit in it.

“
Nothing but crap?” he asked, referring to the TV.

Peter nodded, “Reality TV.”

“
Oh what a load of horse shit.”

“
Exactly my thoughts.” This was nice. It wasn’t thrilling conversation, but it was civility. It was more than Peter could normally hope for.

They sat in silence for an hour watching a show about paranormal investigators. It frustrated Peter because he couldn’t see ghosts on camera, so he couldn’t predict the outcome. The host of the show just wandered around with his friends shouting insults at ghosts and hoping that one of them would get angry enough to throw something.

Mr. Hadley got up and went to the kitchen for a beer. Peter was absorbed in the television still. His father looked down at the frying pan in the drying rack of dishes and back into the fridge.

“
Peter,” he called, “what did you eat for dinner?”

“
Eggs,” Peter said, still paying more attention to his show than his father.

“
God damn it, Peter, what am I supposed to eat for breakfast tomorrow?”

Peter knew that tone. He turned off the TV. “Uh... cereal?”

“
Come in here!” He waited for Peter to hesitantly walk into the kitchen before he shouted even louder. “Do you buy groceries?”

“
Yes sir.”

“
Do you pay for them with your own wages?”

“
No sir,” Peter kept his head down.

“
Do you work ten-hour days of hard labor to pay for them?”

“
No, sir.”

“
I don’t want cold cereal for breakfast. I need a filling breakfast so I can go to work and earn the money for those damn eggs.”

“
You weren’t home,” Peter tried to explain, even though he knew he could only make it worse. “What was I supposed to do, read your mind?”

Peter’s father struck him. He sometimes grabbed his son by the wrist and twisted when he wanted to make a point. Usually he just handed out cruel punishments. Peter couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been hit by his father. The back of Mr. Hadley’s hand caught Peter’s cheekbone. His knuckles had blood on them, a mixture of his own and his son’s.

Peter staggered back, dazed. Mr. Hadley knew when he did it that he’d gone too far but he wasn’t going to apologize for what he saw as tough discipline.

“
No more TV,” he finally grunted. “Go do your homework.”

Peter didn’t tell him that he’d already done it. His father knew that. Seeing ghosts weren’t going to help him lead a violent rebellion against the patriarch. He knew who had the power in this household. Peter walked to his room and shut the door quietly.

Peter dialed Penny. She wouldn’t answer. He put a pile of tissue on his cheek and held it there until the bleeding stopped. His eyelid had a pulse.

Penny heard a cracking branch below her window. She had been in that odd state of half-sleep where she didn’t know if she’d just been thinking or sleeping afterward. She sat up and looked out the window. She climbed out of bed and went to it. The moon was full. Someone was climbing up the ironwood tree outside. She almost screamed but she saw it was Peter and threw open the window. Cold air hit her, waking her up completely. “What are you doing?” she hissed.

“
I want to talk,” Peter hung on the blue-gray branches. The clouds shifted, casting cool moonlight on his face. He was hurt. She couldn’t just leave him there.

“
Climb down, I’ll meet you outside.” Penny closed the window. She put tennis shoes and a coat on and headed outside. Peter was watching with his hands in his pockets.

“
What happened to your face?”

“
It’s nothing. I was clumsy.” He touched the spot where the skin was split and winced.

“
Oh, yeah, I’m sure that’s what happened.” She wondered if he’d been in a fight or if it had been his father again. Both seemed equally likely.

“
Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked.

Penny dropped her gaze to the concrete and started walking down the street. Peter followed. When they reached the bike trail and she hadn’t yet answered, he grew impatient.

“
Did I do something wrong?” he pressed.

“
My mom doesn’t like you... well she thinks... she thinks you’re dangerous.”

Peter turned that over in his head. Unlike Penny, he’d done his research. He couldn’t help but see Bernini’s sculpture of The Rape of Persephone in his head-- the terror in her eyes, the way the stone thigh looked like malleable flesh with Hades’ fingers pressed into it. The figures depicted in the Baroque sculpture looked nothing like Peter and Penny, but their spirit was nonetheless haunting.

Peter searched for something to say. He needed her in his life. It was unhealthy, it was dependent, but he couldn’t stand on his own just yet. “Penny,” he cracked out, “you know I’d never hurt you.”

“
I don’t know what will happen to us when-- if we remember everything.”

“
I’m not going to change,” his voice got a little louder than he’d intended.

“
Maybe it’s who we already are.” Penny stared at him with those devastatingly innocent eyes. How could he ever hurt her? Peter couldn’t even sleep knowing she might be angry with him.

“
Penny, please don’t shut me out. I need you.” He grabbed her hand. She stopped walking.

“
Don’t.”

“
Don’t what? Don’t need you?”

“
Don’t place so much importance on me. I like you but I don’t want the pressure of being your reason to live, okay?” Her voice became sharp.

“
Penny,” he begged, “I love you.”

“
Stop it!” Her words shifted from sharp to shrill.

“
Stop it? I can’t!” he yelled right back at her.

“
I can’t see you. I have to go. My mom’s going to notice I’m gone.”

“
You’re going to ignore me because your mom doesn’t like me? That’s stupid.”

“
It’s not stupid,” she replied through gritted teeth.

“
Yes, it is.” He pulled her closer by her wrist. “You know it is. I love you, Penny.”

She wished he would stop saying that. She yanked her arm away and started running. Peter chased after her. He wasn’t going to let her avoid him.

She ran up the bike path, eager to get away. She didn’t know what she wanted. Part of her feared him, too, and when he said the things he just had, all it managed to do was confuse her.

Peter caught up quickly. His hand clamped down on her shoulder. He overtook her. His feet got tangled in her own and they fell. Penny hit the paved trail hard. It knocked the breath out of her. Peter landed on top of her. He grabbed her wrists and held her there. “Talk to me,” he demanded.

“
Get off of me,” she fought against him. Penny wished she’d never gotten out of bed.

“
What are you really afraid of, huh?” he barked. “You don’t mind using me to talk to your dead daddy but you don’t dare get attached?”

“
Get off!” she repeated.

“
I love you,” he said slowly. He’d stopped shouting. Penny was confused by his change in demeanor. She stopped struggling and looked up at him.

Peter kissed her. She tried to turn her head away but he grabbed her face and forced his lips on her. He’d craved this; his dreams were plagued by the need to feel her against him. She was the one person who could possibly make him feel alive, feel human.

Human. Was he really hoping to gain humanity by destroying her? By hurting the only person he had ever loved? Peter saw that statue flash in the back of his mind. He remembered the earth opening up and swallowing them both. He remembered her broken whimpers. That wasn’t love. He didn’t want that again. He couldn’t force her to love him. He had already tried once.

Peter pulled away and fell back on the blacktop. Penny scrambled to her feet. Peter just sat on the track, his head in his hands. His cheek throbbed. He’d been a monster. He was still a monster. Peter knew from this life that love suffocated in fear.

“
I’m sorry.” He began to weep.

Penny had half a mind to leave him there. She started to go but she felt guilty. She went back to him and crouched by his side. “Are you okay?”

Peter shook his head. He couldn’t look at her.

“
What happened to your face?”

He swallowed. “My father hit me because I used the last two eggs.”

Penny felt her heart clench. She’d grown up without a father and some days, like today, she resented her mother, but Celene was a good mother. She was just a little overprotective. She’d never hit her daughter. Penny didn’t know what had become of Mrs. Hadley, but she couldn’t imagine living in a home with one abusive parent and nobody else to turn to. She felt a pang of sympathy. It almost made her forgive his outburst. Almost.

“
I need to get the hell away from here,” he said. “I need to get away from him, from the Titans and all of it.”

Peter looked up at her suddenly. “Come with me.” His dark eyes sparkled. It surprised Penny.

“
What?”

“
Somewhere. Miami. We’ll get lost, no Epimetheus or Prometheus or anyone. No fires and murders. I’m going. I’m going tonight!”

“
I can’t just leave, Peter.”

“
Sure you can,” he climbed to his feet.

“
Peter, I’m not even fifteen yet.”

“
I’m sixteen. I can work for us. We can blend into the scenery there. You could grow vegetables for us to eat. Just until they catch these guys.” He was speaking so fast. “I need to leave this town; I need to go now.”

“
Peter,” she scolded, “that’s insane. We can’t run away.”

“
Don’t make me go without you.”

“
How about you don’t abandon me here,” she said, turning it around on him. “Peter, my mother, the others... we can’t leave them. We can talk to someone, if you want, about getting you out of your home but... We could never survive on our own. We’re kids. We’re just kids.”

Peter stared at her for a long time without saying anything. The nearby sounds of tree frogs chirping swelled to fill her ears in the silence. Finally he nodded. “Right. We should go home.”

“
Come on,” she said, taking his hand. Peter started walking.

“
I’m sorry,” he repeated after a minute of walking up the trail.

“
Let’s not talk about it,” Penny found it easier to forgive if she pretended it had never happened.