Of Waves and War

20: a brave and clever man

Penelope

Telemachus came several years into our marriage. Everyone, by everyone I mean my family, supposed that we couldn't have any children. I was upset about that for a while. But Eulises didn't care, or he never let me know if he did. He was content to talk to me any hour of the day, unhindered by a child. And as time passed I wondered if he'd even have the patience for a small child, considering he didn't have the patience for most people.

Of course I was wrong about that. And everyone else was wrong about my supposed infertility (I don't know why they blamed me and not him, but they did). We'd be married for years by the time I fell pregnant. I wasn't even expecting it by then. Nor was Eulises. He was decently a man and was completely confused as to why I was throwing up every morning. While vomiting I had to convince him not to send for multiple doctors considering I was pretty sure I knew what was wrong.  Of course I was right.

Telemachus came on a cold winter night, and was of course not at all silent about it. He'd have none of sleeping in the nice wood cradle his father made him. No, he had to be held by someone at all times. Spoiled little prince. Otherwise he'd scream. Eventually we'd get him to sleep in his cradle, with one of our hands lying on him.

"He only doesn't want to be alone," Eulises said, quietly, watching his son sleep on his chest with complete rapture. He held the child with practiced ease having cared for puppies, goats, and most anything else on the estate, yet he viewed his son and heir with a certain reverence he had previously held only for me.

Some women would be jealous, I suppose. I was glad. I had feared he wouldn't know what to do with a screaming crying creature not capable of reasoning or being charmed by his words. I was wrong. The baby loved his father talking. In retrospect that's probably because he know his daddy's voice well from my womb.

"Do you? You think we're going to leave you or something while you nap? Don't be silly, you'll be sneaking out on us while we try to sleep, in a few years, just you wait," Eulises said, kissing his son's head. Telemachus for his part snuffled as babies do and nestled his face further against his father's soft white shirt.

"More like a decade," I scoffed, getting in my side of the bed. It usually took about an hour or so of his father talking to him to convince Telemachus to go to sleep and that we weren't going anywhere, then we'd ease him into his cradle while still talking to him. Thankfully, his father could  talk for several hours with no prompting or reinforcement what so ever so it worked out fine.

"Ah---maybe five or six years? My mother is fond of the words 'holy terror' when referring to my childhood--- you'll do just fine if you mind the latches on the cellar door, cellar's the best way out, far fewer diabolical traps planted by your grandma to prevent exploring and adventures," he said, with great affection.

"Oh you're telling me NOW the child has probably inherited the  tendency to be a nocturnal monster?" I laughed.

"What, didn't you sneak out when you were little?" Eulises laughed, lightly though because Telemachus was just settling in to nap.

"No, I read a book, or went to sleep," I said, curling on his shoulder to watch our baby sleep. Dark curls already on his soft little head. Tiny face scrunched up in baby -concern though when the eyes opened they would be rich and dark like his father's.

"Oh boring---what all your childhood?"

"Yes, actually?"

"So it was NOT entirely normal to climb down out from your window to go on midnight adventures then?" He asked.

"No, believe it or not that was something that started with you."

"Why did you marry me again?" he asked, grinning.