Of Waves and War

38: your wish come true

Penelope

I'm really glad that boy brought home cymbals. I really am.

"Good morning," I lean over the balcony. I put on a black dress for today. And I'm smiling though I can't even name why.

The suitors wake up, grumbling and glaring.

"I've come to a decision which I am about to explain to you , so listen closely. This afternoon, I'm going to have a contest. And the winner gets my hand in marriage. The contest is this, whomever can string my dear, departed, clearly dead husband's bow, can have my hand in marriage. Twelve axe heads will be arranged, and the winner must shoot through them," I say.

They clamor with obvious interest because they think they can string this bow (they can't it makes no logical sense unless it's been thoroughly explained, almost exactly like my husband).

"However, anyone wishing to compete will have to pay me a non refundable sum. The amount is up to you but should there be no winners then I'll be looking at your financial contributions," I say, smiling down at them.

Telemachus

"Are you crying?" I ask, glancing at my father, as we lean in the shadows.

"That's my girl," he says, with clear affection, looking up at my mother as she bangs the cymbals again, "I love you so much."

"Love you too, dad—,"

"Your mother is so perfect Tel, seriously, I couldn't love her more I want you to know that," he says, still staring at her.

"I got that, dad, really, I'm going to go and see if she needs help now," he says.

"Yes, go fetch my bow do you—,"

"Yes, I know how you've explained it four times," I say.

"Right, sorry, not all here's the fifth---,"

"Dad!"

"I have to mess with you, go on now. And once you're through lock your mother in her room. She does not need to participate," he says.

"What will you be doing?" I ask.

"Locking all the exits, they're about to become fish in a barrel," he says, squeezing the back of my neck, "Go on now."

Penelope

"What if it's not him?" Cleia asks, twisting her hands, "What if he doesn't come?"

"My husband would climb out of the depths of the Underworld, if he knew strangers were touching that precious bow. He would do the same if another man touched me but let's not stoop to that," not that I hadn't thought of it.

"As you wish my lady," she says, nervous still.

"As I know him---oh that asshole," I dart back to the door, just as the lock from the outside clicks closed.

"Mum, please stay in there, and do not come out, no matter what you may hear, or what you may think is going on, all right?" Telemachus, weakly.

"Telemachus is there anything you want to tell me about involving archery superfluous lying, drama, locking people places, or your precious idiot father in general?" I growl, in the voice I know frightens him.

"Who? Me? No idea what you mean? Please stay in there?" he says, then I hear him bolt because he is afraid of me.

"Damn that man, I want to watch," I say, going to the window and wrenching it open. He knows I could still see. That complete idiot. That arrogant jerk. He wanted to look at me we both know that. It makes me half not want to be in the window. Except I want to look at him as well.