The phone became Sally Jackson's fixture.
She sat around it. A chair was pulled up in front of the handheld and she stayed there. She ate her meals and wrote her novels and did her accounting there. Finally, Paul gave up and moved a second chair next to the first, just so he could see his wife.
Percy had been gone for eight straight months. He hadn't been found. No hints. No nothing. Sally was going insane. Her only child was gone. She didn't leave the apartment very much in the last month. What did she tell people? "Lost at sea," she said. Sally Jackson's boys were always lost at sea.
One day it was particularly bad. Sally clutched the phone and cried, willing it to ring. Willing her baby to come home to her. "Please," she begged it. "Please. Come home. Zeus, let him come home," she sobbed. Paul sat down next to her and rubbed her back while she let out all her woes, her worries, her fears. Two straight hours. Paul cried with her. Maybe he didn't love Percy as much as Sally did, but he was his child too, in a way.
Gently, as if Percy's life rested inside the handset, Sally set the phone into its cradle, staring at it forlornly. Paul held her hand. "Do you want to go outside?" Sally wordlessly shook her head. "It would do you some good. Time would pass faster. Please, you need to get up." Slowly leading her out, the pair hobbled out of the apartment, down the street to Central Park.
The phone rang into empty silence.
Sally ran into the apartment first, with Paul walking behind her, breathless from catching up. A number one flashed on the answering machine. "You have one new message. You have one new message." Sally ran to the phone and dialed into it, holding out the phone for Paul to hear.
"Mom. Hey, I'm alive. Hera put me to sleep for a while, and then she took my memory, and.... Anyway, I'm okay. I'm on a quest- I'll make it home. I promise. Love you."
Sally replayed it again and again. She keeled over, sobbing anew. "He's coming home," she cried to Paul, sad and happy. Happy and sad. "My boy isn't lost at sea anymore."
She sat around it. A chair was pulled up in front of the handheld and she stayed there. She ate her meals and wrote her novels and did her accounting there. Finally, Paul gave up and moved a second chair next to the first, just so he could see his wife.
Percy had been gone for eight straight months. He hadn't been found. No hints. No nothing. Sally was going insane. Her only child was gone. She didn't leave the apartment very much in the last month. What did she tell people? "Lost at sea," she said. Sally Jackson's boys were always lost at sea.
One day it was particularly bad. Sally clutched the phone and cried, willing it to ring. Willing her baby to come home to her. "Please," she begged it. "Please. Come home. Zeus, let him come home," she sobbed. Paul sat down next to her and rubbed her back while she let out all her woes, her worries, her fears. Two straight hours. Paul cried with her. Maybe he didn't love Percy as much as Sally did, but he was his child too, in a way.
Gently, as if Percy's life rested inside the handset, Sally set the phone into its cradle, staring at it forlornly. Paul held her hand. "Do you want to go outside?" Sally wordlessly shook her head. "It would do you some good. Time would pass faster. Please, you need to get up." Slowly leading her out, the pair hobbled out of the apartment, down the street to Central Park.
The phone rang into empty silence.
Sally ran into the apartment first, with Paul walking behind her, breathless from catching up. A number one flashed on the answering machine. "You have one new message. You have one new message." Sally ran to the phone and dialed into it, holding out the phone for Paul to hear.
"Mom. Hey, I'm alive. Hera put me to sleep for a while, and then she took my memory, and.... Anyway, I'm okay. I'm on a quest- I'll make it home. I promise. Love you."
Sally replayed it again and again. She keeled over, sobbing anew. "He's coming home," she cried to Paul, sad and happy. Happy and sad. "My boy isn't lost at sea anymore."