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"PERCY, pandora," Chiron said. "Did your mother tell you something?" He asked, "She said.." Percy and Pandora remembered her sad eyes, looking out over the sea. "She told us she was afraid to send us here, even though my father had wanted her to. She said that once we was here, we probably couldn't leave. She wanted to keep us close to her."
"Typical," Mr. D said. "That's how they usually get killed. Young man and lady, are you bidding or not?" Percy and pandora looked at each other then back at the camp director. "What?" they asked.
He explained, impatiently, how you bid in pinochle, and so they did. "I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron said. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."
"Orientation film?" Percy asked. "No," Chiron decided, "Well, percy, pandora. You know your friend grover is a satyr. You know—" He pointed to the horns in the shoe box—"that you two killed the minotaur. No small feat, either, lad, lass. What you may not know is that great powers are at work in your life. Gods—the forces you call the greek gods—are very much alive."
Pandora and percy stared at the others around the table, they waited for somebody to tell, Not! but all they got was Mr. D yelling, "Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!" He cackled as he tallied up his points.
"Mr. D," Grover asked timidly, "If you're not going to eat it, could i have your diet coke can?" He asked. "Eh? oh, all right."
Grover bit a huge shard out of the empty aluminum can and chewed it mournfully. "Wait," Percy told chiron, "You're telling us—there's such a thing as god?" He questioned. "Well, now," Chiron said.
"God—capital G, God. That's a different matter altogether. We shan't deal with the metaphysical."
"Metaphysical? But you were just talking about—" Chiron cut the black haired girl off. "Ah, gods, plural, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors: the immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."
"Smaller?"
"Yes, quite. The gods we discussed in latin class." Chiron answered, "Zeus." Percy said, "Hera. Apollo. You mean them." And there it was again—distant thunder on a cloudless day.
"Young man," Said Mr. D, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around, if it were you." Pandora rolled her eyes at him and turned to chiron. "But they're stories," She said. "They're—myths, to explain lightning and seasons and stuff. They're what people believed before there was science."
