Percy Jackson And The Lightning Thief

We Shop for Waterbeds

It was Annabeth's idea.She loaded us into the back of a Vegas taxi as if we actually had money, andtold the driver, 'Los Angeles, please.'The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized us up. 'That's three hundred miles. Forthat, you gotta pay up front.''You accept casino debit cards?' Annabeth asked.He shrugged. 'Some of' em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through,first.'Annabeth handed him her green LotusCash card.He looked at it sceptically.'Swipe it,' Annabeth invited.He did.His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinitysymbol came up next to the dollar sign.The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at us, his eyes wide.'Where to in Los Angeles... uh, Your Highness?''The Santa Monica pier.' Annabeth sat up a little straighter. I could tell sheliked the 'Your Highness' thing. 'Get us there fast, and you can keep thechange.'Maybe she shouldn't have told him that.The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way throughthe Mojave Desert.On the road, we had plenty of time to talk. I told Annabeth and Grover about mylatest dream, but the details got sketchier the more I tried to remember them. TheLotus Casino seemed to have short-circuited my memory. I couldn't recall whatthe invisible servant's voice had sounded like, though I was sure it wassomebody I knew. The servant had called the monster in the pit something otherthan 'my lord'... some special name or title...'The Silent One?' Annabeth suggested. 'The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades.''Maybe...' I said, though neither sounded quite right.'That throne room sounds like Hades's,' Grover said. 'That's the way it'susually described.'I shook my head. 'Something's wrong. The throne room wasn't the main partof the dream. And that voice from the pit... I don't know. It just didn't feel like agod's voice.'Annabeth's eyes widened.'What?' I asked.'Oh... nothing. I was just – No, it has to be Hades. Maybe he sent this thief,this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong –''Like what?''I – I don't know,' she said. 'But if he stole Zeus's symbol of power fromOlympus, and the gods were hunting him, I mean, a lot of things could gowrong. So this thief had to hide the bolt, or he lost it somehow. Anyway, hefailed to bring it to Hades. That's what the voice said in your dream, right? Theguy failed. That would explain what the Furies were searching for when theycame after us on the bus. Maybe they thought we had retrieved the bolt.'I wasn't sure what was wrong with her. She looked pale.'But if I'd already retrieved the bolt,' I said, 'why would I be travelling to theUnderworld?''To threaten Hades,' Grover suggested. 'To bribe or blackmail him into gettingyour mom back.'I whistled. 'You have evil thoughts for a goat.''Why, thank you.''But the thing in the pit said it was waiting for two items,' I said. 'If the masterbolt is one, what's the other?'Grover shook his head, clearly mystified.Annabeth was looking at me as if she knew my next question, and was silentlywilling me not to ask it.'You have an idea what might be in that pit, don't you?' I asked her. 'I mean,if it isn't Hades?''Percy... let's not talk about it. Because if it isn't Hades... No. It has to beHades.'Wasteland rolled by. We passed a sign that said: CALIFORNIA STATE LINE,12 MILES.I got the feeling I was missing one simple, critical piece of information. It waslike when I stared at a common word I should know, but I couldn't make senseof it because one or two letters were floating around. The more I thought aboutmy quest, the more I was sure that confronting Hades wasn't the real answer.There was something else going on, something even more dangerous.The problem was: we were hurtling towards the Underworld at ninety-fivemiles an hour, betting that Hades had the master bolt. If we got there and foundout we were wrong, we wouldn't have time to correct ourselves. The solsticedeadline would pass and war would begin.'The answer is in the Underworld,' Annabeth assured me. 'You saw spirits ofthe dead, Percy. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the rightthing.'She tried to boost our morale by suggesting clever strategies for getting intothe Land of the Dead, but my heart wasn't in it. There were just too manyunknown factors. It was like cramming for a test without knowing the subject.And believe me, I'd done that enough times.The cab sped west. Every gust of wind through Death Valley sounded like aspirit of the dead. Every time the brakes hissed on an eighteen-wheeler, itreminded me of Echidna's reptilian voice.At sunset, the taxi dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly theway L.A. beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnivalrides lining the pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping inthe sand dunes and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave.Grover, Annabeth and I walked down to the edge of the surf.'What now?' Annabeth asked.The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun. I thought about how long ithad been since I'd stood on the beach at Montauk, on the opposite side of thecountry, looking out at a different sea.How could there be a god who could control all that? What did my scienceteacher used to say – two-thirds of the earth's surface was covered in water?How could I be the son of someone that powerful?I stepped into the surf.'Percy?' Annabeth said. 'What are you doing?'I kept walking, up to my waist, then my chest.She called after me, 'You know how polluted that water is? There're all kindsof toxic –'That's when my head went under.I held my breath at first. It's difficult to intentionally inhale water. Finally Icouldn't stand it any more. I gasped. Sure enough, I could breathe normally.I walked down into the shoals. I shouldn't have been able to see through themurk, but somehow I could tell where everything was. I could sense the rolling texture of the bottom. I could make out sand-dollar colonies dotting thesandbars. I could even see the currents, warm and cold streams swirling together.I felt something rub against my leg. I looked down and almost shot out of thewater like a ballistic missile. Sliding along beside me was a two-metre-longmako shark.But the thing wasn't attacking. It was nuzzling me. Heeling like a dog.Tentatively, I touched its dorsal fin. It bucked a little, as if inviting me to holdtighter. I grabbed the fin with both hands. It took off, pulling me along. Theshark carried me down into the darkness. It deposited me at the edge of theocean proper, where the sand bank dropped off into a huge chasm. It was likestanding on the rim of the Grand Canyon at midnight, not being able to seemuch, but knowing the void was right there.The surface shimmered maybe fifty metres above. I knew I should've beencrushed by the pressure. Then again, I shouldn't have been able to breathe. Iwondered if there was a limit to how deep I could go, if I could sink straight tothe bottom of the Pacific.Then I saw something glimmering in the darkness below, growing bigger andbrighter as it rose towards me. A woman's voice, like my mother's, called:'Percy Jackson.'As she got closer, her shape became clearer. She had flowing black hair, adress made of green silk. Light flickered around her, and her eyes were sodistractingly beautiful I hardly noticed the stallion-sized sea horse she wasriding.She dismounted. The sea horse and the mako shark whisked off and startedplaying something that looked like tag. The underwater lady smiled at me.'You've come far, Percy Jackson. Well done.'I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I bowed. 'You're the woman who spoke tome in the Mississippi River.''Yes, child. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so farupriver, but the naiads, my freshwater cousins, helped sustain my life force.They honour Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve in his court.''And... you serve in Poseidon's court?'She nodded. 'It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has beenborn. We have watched you with great interest.'Suddenly I remembered faces in the waves off Montauk Beach when I was alittle boy, reflections of smiling women. Like so many of the weird things in mylife, I'd never given it much thought before.'If my father is so interested in me,' I said, 'why isn't he here? Why doesn't hespeak to me?'A cold current rose out of the depths.'Do not judge the Lord of the Sea too harshly,' the Nereid told me. 'He standsat the brink of an unwanted war. He has much to occupy his time. Besides, he isforbidden to help you directly. The gods may not show such favouritism.''Even to their own children?''Especially to them. The gods can work by indirect influence only. That iswhy I give you a warning, and a gift.'She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her palm.'I know you journey to Hades's realm,' she said. 'Few mortals have ever donethis and survived: Orpheus, who had great musical skill; Hercules, who had greatstrength; Houdini, who could escape even the depths of Tartarus. Do you havethese talents?''Um... no, ma'am.''Ah, but you have something else, Percy. You have gifts you have only begunto know. The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should yousurvive to manhood. Poseidon would not have you die before your time.Therefore take these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet.''What will happen?''That,' she said, 'depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the seawill always return to the sea.''What about the warning?'Her eyes flickered with green light. 'Go with what your heart tells you, or youwill lose all. Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. He will trick you if he can,make you mistrust your own judgement. Once you are in his realm, he will neverwillingly let you leave. Keep faith. Good luck, Percy Jackson.'She summoned her sea horse and rode towards the void.'Wait!' I called. 'At the river, you said not to trust the gifts. What gifts?''Goodbye, young hero,'she called back, her voice fading into the depths. 'Youmust listen to your heart.' She became a speck of glowing green, and then shewas gone.I wanted to follow her down into the darkness. I wanted to see the court ofPoseidon. But I looked up at the sunset darkening on the surface. My friendswere waiting. We had so little time...I kicked upwards towards the shore.When I reached the beach, I told Grover and Annabeth what had happened,and showed them the pearls.Annabeth grimaced. 'No gift comes without a price.''They were free.''No.' She shook her head. '"There is no such thing as a free lunch." That's anancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be aprice. You wait.'On that happy thought, we turned our backs on the sea.With some spare change from Ares's backpack, we took the bus into WestHollywood. I showed the driver the Underworld address slip I'd taken fromAunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium, but he'd never heard of DOA RecordingStudios.'You remind me of somebody I saw on TV', he told me. 'You a child actor orsomething?''Uh... I'm a stunt double... for a lot of child actors.''Oh! That explains it.'We thanked him and got off quickly at the next stop.We wandered for miles on foot, looking for DOA. Nobody seemed to knowwhere it was. It didn't appear in the phone book.Twice, we ducked into alleys to avoid cop cars.I froze in front of an appliance store window because a television was playingan interview with somebody who looked very familiar – my stepdad, SmellyGabe. He was talking to Barbara Walters – I mean, as if he were some kind ofhuge celebrity. She was interviewing him in our apartment, in the middle of apoker game, and there was a young blonde lady sitting next to him, patting hishand.A fake tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, 'Honest, Ms Walters, if itwasn't for Sugar here, my grief counsellor. I'd be a wreck. My stepson tookeverything I cared about. My wife... my Camaro... I – I'm sorry. I have troubletalking about it.''There you have it, America.' Barbara Walters turned to the camera. 'A mantorn apart. An adolescent boy with serious issues. Let me show you, again, thelast known photo of this troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver.'The screen cut to a grainy shot of me, Annabeth and Grover standing outsidethe Colorado diner, talking to Ares.'Who are the other children in this photo?' Barbara Walters askeddramatically. 'Who is the man with them? Is Percy Jackson a delinquent, aterrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult? When wecome back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America.''C'mon,' Grover told me. He hauled me away before I could punch a hole inthe appliance-store window.It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets toplay. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a New Yorker. I don't scare easy. But L.A. had a totally different feel from New York. Back home, everything seemed close.It didn't matter how big the city was, you could get anywhere without gettinglost. The street pattern and the subway made sense. There was a system to howthings worked. A kid could be safe as long as he wasn't stupid.L.A. wasn't like that. It was spread out, chaotic, hard to move around. Itreminded me of Ares. It wasn't enough for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it wasbig by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too. I didn't know howwe were ever going to find the entrance to the Underworld by tomorrow, thesummer solstice.We walked past gangbangers, bums and street hawkers, who looked at us likethey were trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging.As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said,'Hey, you.'Like an idiot, I stopped.Before I knew it, we were surrounded. A gang of kids had circled us. Six ofthem in all – white kids with expensive clothes and mean faces. Like the kids atYancy Academy: rich brats playing at being bad boys.Instinctively, I uncapped Riptide.When the sword appeared out of nowhere, the kids backed off, but their leaderwas either really stupid or really brave, because he kept coming at me with aswitchblade.I made the mistake of swinging.The kid yelped. But he must've been one hundred percent mortal, because theblade passed harmlessly right through his chest. He looked down. 'What the...'I figured I had about three seconds before his shock turned to anger. 'Run!' Iscreamed at Annabeth and Grover.We pushed two kids out of the way and raced down the street, not knowingwhere we were going. We turned a sharp corner.'There!' Annabeth shouted.Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. Thesign above the door said something like: CRSTUY'S WATREBDE ALPACE.'Crusty's Waterbed Palace?' Grover translated.It didn't sound like a place I'd ever go except in an emergency, but thisdefinitely qualified.We burst through the doors, ran behind a waterbed, and ducked. A split secondlater, the gang kids ran past outside.'I think we lost them,' Grover panted.A voice behind us boomed, 'Lost who?'We all jumped.Standing behind us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. Hewas at least two metres tall, with absolutely no hair. He had grey leathery skin,thick-lidded eyes, and a cold reptilian smile. He moved towards us slowly, but Igot the feeling he could move fast if he needed to.His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in theseventies, big time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down hishairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. Thesilver chains around his neck – I couldn't even count them.'I'm Crusty,' he said, with a tartar-yellow smile.I resisted the urge to say, Yes, you are.'Sorry to barge in,' I told him. 'We were just, um, browsing.''You mean hiding from those no-good kids,' he grumbled. 'They hang aroundevery night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look ata waterbed?'I was about to say No, thanks, when he put a huge paw on my shoulder andsteered me deeper into the showroom.There was every kind of waterbed you could imagine: different kinds of wood,different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.'This is my most popular model.' Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bedcovered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. Themattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavoured jelly.'Million-hand massage,' Crusty told us. 'Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. Idon't care. No business today, anyway.''Um,' I said, 'I don't think...''Million-hand massage!' Grover cried, and dived in. 'Oh, you guys! This iscool.''Hmm,' Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. Almost, almost.''Almost what?' I asked.He looked at Annabeth. 'Do me a favour and try this one over here, honey.Might fit.'Annabeth said, 'But what –'He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and led her over to the SafariDeluxe model with teakwood lions carved into the frame and a leopard-patternedbedspread. When Annabeth didn't want to lie down, Crusty pushed her.'Hey!'she protested.Crusty snapped his fingers. 'Ergo!'Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around Annabeth, holding herto the mattress.Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black-satin bed, too, andlashed him down.'Not cool!' he yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. 'Notcool at all!'The giant looked at Annabeth, then turned towards me and grinned. 'Almost,darn it.'I tried to step away, but his hand shot out and clamped around the back of myneck. 'Whoa, kid. Don't worry. We'll find you one in a sec.''Let my friends go.''Oh, sure I will. But I got to make them fit, first.''What do you mean?''All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short. Got to makethem fit.'Annabeth and Grover kept struggling.'Can't stand imperfect measurements,' Crusty muttered. 'Ergo!'A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, wrappingaround Grover and Annabeth's ankles, then around their armpits. The ropesstarted tightening, pulling my friends from both ends.'Don't worry,' Crusty told me. 'These are stretching jobs. Maybe eight extracentimetres on their spines. They might even live. Now why don't we find a bedyou like, huh?''Percy!' Grover yelled.My mind was racing. I knew I couldn't take on this giant waterbed salesmanalone. He would snap my neck before I ever got my sword out.'Your real name's not Crusty, is it?' I asked.'Legally, it's Procrustes,' he admitted.'The Stretcher,' I said. I remembered the story: the giant who'd tried to killTheseus with over-hospitality on his way to Athens.'Yeah,' the salesman said. 'But who can pronounce "Procrustes"? Bad forbusiness. Now "Crusty", anybody can say that.''You're right. It's got a good ring to it.'His eyes lit up. 'You think so?''Oh, absolutely,' I said. 'And the workmanship on these beds? Fabulous!'He grinned hugely, but his fingers didn't loosen on my neck. 'I tell mycustomers that. Every time. Nobody bothers to look at the workmanship. Howmany built-in Lava Lamp headboards have you seen?''Not too many.''That's right!''Percy!' Annabeth yelled. 'What are you doing?''Don't mind her,' I told Procrustes. 'She's impossible. The giant laughed. 'All my customers are. Never six feet exactly. Soinconsiderate. And then they complain about the fitting.''What do you do if they're longer than six feet?''Oh, that happens all the time. It's a simple fix.'He let go of my neck, but before I could react, he reached behind a nearbysales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed brass axe. He said, 'I just centrethe subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs over on either end.''Ah,' I said, swallowing hard. 'Sensible.''I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!'The ropes were really stretching my friends now. Annabeth was turning pale.Grover made gurgling sounds like a strangled goose.'So, Crusty...' I said, trying to keep my voice light. I glanced at the sales tagon the valentine-shaped Honeymoon Special. 'Does this one really havedynamic stabilizers to stop wave motion?''Absolutely. Try it out.''Yeah, maybe I will. But would it work even for a big guy like you? No wavesat all?''Guaranteed.''No way.''Way.''Show me.'He sat down eagerly on the bed, patted the mattress. 'No waves. See?'I snapped my fingers. 'Ergo.'Ropes lashed around Crusty and flattened him against the mattress.'Hey!' he yelled.'Centre him just right,' I said.The ropes readjusted themselves at my command. Crusty's whole head stuckout the top. His feet stuck out the bottom.'No!' he said. 'Wait! This is just a demo.'I uncapped Riptide. 'A few simple adjustments...'I had no qualms about what I was about to do. If Crusty were human, Icouldn't hurt him anyway. If he was a monster, he deserved to turn into dust fora while.'You drive a hard bargain,' he told me. 'I'll give you thirty percent off onselected floor models!''I think I'll start with the top.' I raised my sword.'No money down! No interest for six months!'I swung the sword. Crusty stopped making offers.I cut the ropes on the other beds. Annabeth and Grover got to their feet,groaning and wincing and cursing me a lot.'You look taller,' I said.'Very funny,' Annabeth said. 'Be faster next time.'I looked at the bulletin board behind Crusty's sales desk. There was anadvertisement for Hermes Delivery Service, and another for the All-NewCompendium of L.A. Area Monsters – 'The only Monstrous Yellow Pagesyou'll ever need!' Under that, a bright orange flier for DOA Recording Studios,offering commissions for heroes' souls. 'We are always looking for new talent!'DOA's address was right underneath with a map.'Come on,' I told my friends.'Give us a minute,' Grover complained. 'We were almost stretched to death!''Then you're ready for the Underworld,' I said. 'It's only a block from here.