Jake, Son Of Zeus 6 Chapter Five

"No," the ma.s.sive beast called back. "It's Oberon, the fairy king."

"Just checking," Jake said with a smile. He unbolted the seven bolts on the door and opened it. "Why can't you always visit in human form?" Jake asked, as his father trudged into the living room. "It would make my life so much easier."

"But it's not near as much fun," Zeus said, giving him a roguish half-smile as he came inside. It was strange how his father, no matter what form he visited in, always had Zeus's expressions. He even moved with a kind of power, not presidential power, though. More like rock star power. "Burt here," Zeus indicated his beefy body, "is experiencing a unique acid trip. He stumbled by as I was about to possess a Dalmatian, and I thought, hey, why not? Animals are fun, but kind of restrictive. No thumbs. Of course, anything is better than hanging out in all my eternal glory. There are enough people ticked off at me that I haven't traveled un-incognito since 1974. And if you think possessing Dalmatians is distasteful, you should try being bodiless and insubstantial. It sucks. You can't communicate with anyone who isn't G.o.dlike. Plus, your couch is more comfortable when I'm in a fleshy suit." Zeus took a seat. "And you've seen my natural physical form a few times, enough to know that John Wayne himself, may he live forever, would cry little girly tears if that colossal shape appeared on his doorstep."

Jake relocked the locks and said, "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Do you have Dr. Pepper? I'm in love with that stuff. We tried to make some last week. You'd think the G.o.ds wouldn't have a problem with something so…mortal, but we just can't get the recipe right." Jake went into the kitchen, noticing that E. E. had done the dishes for the first time in the six months they'd been roommates.

Jake took a Dr. Pepper out of the refrigerator, then smiled to himself and grabbed three more. In the living room, Jake handed one of the cans to his father and set the rest within reach. Zeus opened it with childlike joy and took a sip. "Dr. Pepper and LSD," he murmured, "what an interesting combination! Do you have any french fries?"

Jake replied that he didn't, but almost immediately began wis.h.i.+ng that he did. The Whataburger two streets over made heavenly fries, like little salty sticks of joy.

"So, the reason I came by…" Zeus said. "I need a favor."

"I'm not going out with that girl."

Zeus tilted his head. "What girl?"

"The girl Hera wants me to date."

"Right. Remind me to talk you into that later. No, this is something else." He looked serious.

Without realizing it, Jake held his breath. Had Zeus ever asked him for a favor before? Jake couldn't remember.

Zeus pulled from his jacket pocket an ornate wooden box, the sides covered in carvings of ferns, vines, and blossoms of unrecognizable flowers. The pattern continued unbroken onto the top of the box where lay, as though on a square hill, a beautiful woman, barefoot, dressed in a long gown. Her att.i.tude was slightly sensuous, but more playful, carefree with just a bit of thoughtfulness. She was real. It was impossible to imagine that an artist had taken this vision from his own mind. This woman had a history and a family. She washed dishes by hand. She laughed with her sisters. She was learning how to knit. She would sit cross-legged on the floor, slowly working st.i.tches that would become surer and quicker with time. She liked to walk in the evenings, just before sunset, when children played in front yards and the world grew sleepy. She wasn't young anymore, but she wasn't old. She liked to think of it as a time when she possessed both the strength of youth and the wisdom of age, but she laughed at the thought, wondering if she had either. And with her laugh ringing like a child's in Jake's ears, he shook his head and stepped back from the box.

Zeus chuckled as he handed over the box. "I had a similar reaction when I first saw it," he said.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Jake asked, holding it as though it were gla.s.s.

"Just…don't take it out of your apartment."

Jake set the box on the coffee table, wanting to get it out of his hands so he could focus his attention on the G.o.d on his couch. "What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing much. I just need to keep it hidden for awhile."

"Then why the h.e.l.l would you bring it here?" Jake tried not to look at the box, only feet from him. He could still feel its effect on him, and he didn't know whether to feel excited or angry. "I can't protect this. I can't even protect myself. And E. E. is helpless. I found him the other day having a conversation with a bathtub naiad. One of these days he's going to say something insensitive, and I'm going to find him strangled by seaweed."

"Don't worry," Zeus said, grinning. "No one will look for the box here. Even if they do, it's reasonably able to take care of itself."

"How…?"

"I just need a place to store it, where someone will notice if it goes missing. Someone I trust." He gave Jake a hopeful smile.

Jake sighed, glancing down at the box without meaning to. The woman had a small, twisting chain around one of her ankles, maybe a birthday gift from her mother, maybe a gift from a friend she'd had since childhood, someone as close as family. "How long do I need to keep it?"

"Just a few months."

"Months?"

Zeus smiled as though Jake couldn't help finding him charming. The timetable of the G.o.ds notoriously sucked.

"Who's after it?"

Zeus raised an eyebrow. "What about your 'the less I know, the better' philosophy?"

"It's more like, 'the less I'm involved, the saner,' but whatever. If I'm going to be guarding the box, I should know something about what's going on. What is it, exactly?"

"You're better off not knowing. But, listen, it's no big deal. It's not the holy grail or Vishnu's shoes. Just a box," Zeus said, moving toward the door. "I've got to get back." Just before the door closed behind him, he said, "Oh, and don't tell anyone it's here, of course. Don't let anyone touch it. And I wouldn't try to open it if I were you."

Jake sighed again as his father's footsteps thundered down the hall. He carried the box to his bedroom, setting it gingerly on the table under his window. The navy blue curtains, too long because they were bought for another window years ago, whispered against the tabletop.