Of Waves and War

18: he spoke to his own heart

Eulises

I wake with my wife's name on my lips.

"Penelope," I whisper as I do always when I come out of a dream. She was always right there. Back then I didn't know what the dreams were about or remember them. I just knew waking up I felt a growing sense of dread. And I'd reach out for her and she would be there and I would know all was well.

And she'd hear my whisper to her and if she'd moved from me in the night she would wrap her arms around me and stroke my hair, whispering that it was all right and to go back to sleep. All was well. I was home. I was safe. Nothing bad was going to happen.

I could roll over, eyes half closed, tracing the veins in her thigh before kissing it. Soft hairs brushing my lips as I pressed my face into her leg. She'd stroke my back, tell me to keep sleeping.

"The heavens wish you'd woven them, my beautiful one," I took her hands and kissed her strong fingers. I look up to see her face before me but she's gone.

Because I am not in Ithaca.

Sand is crusting my face. I wince at the light. Of course no arms reach out to hold me. I am alone. On a rocky beach.  Nothing has come to kidnap me yet so I suppose that's a start?

I blow a kiss across the ocean, even though I don't know which direction I'm facing? The blasted sun is already high in the sky. I sigh, a bit frustrated. I'm probably on another island. As equally cursed as the last half dozen I've encountered.

I hear voices. Up the beach from me. Possibly female? Doesn't mean anything though if it is. It's not like Calypso wasn't one of the worse things I encountered.

A group of girls are at a stream, more playing than working but they do actually appear to be washing clothes.

"Excuse me? Could you---" I raise my hands non threateningly but they all start violently. I then realize that being adrift as I have been, let alone moored on Calypso's island, I look like less than a safe person. My face is rough with stubble, my clothes ruined and tearing, skin weathered and sun burnt.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I take a step back, "My ship wrecked. I'm just finding my way home."

The one who seems to be the leader steels her nerve, "You may come with us to my father's court. We're fond of travelers. He'll help you on your way."

"Excellent," fond of eating travelers more likely.

"You don't look well," she frowns.

"I'm really not, if it wouldn't be too much trouble could you give me some clothes? For the walk into town?" I ask, glancing at the pile of garments.

"Oh, yes, of course," she says, sorting in the pile and finding me a set of clothes that look finer than anything I've had lately.

"Thank you," I say, catching them and not coming too close for the girls do look startled. They continue to stare at me.

"Right so I'm going to put them on, so please turn around," I say, slowly, when they are clearly standing there waiting for me to change.

They mumble and obey. I shake my head a little. Has my luck actually turned and I'm just surrounded by idiots now?