I am the only one of us who calls it rape. Stheno, when she must mention it, says “our bad luck;” Medusa shrugs and says “gods don’t have to ask.” And I say but they should and she says but they don’t and Stheno says this attitude doesn’t help, and she’s right, but I go into my cave and scream.
And of course it’s not like with a man. The gods are called beautiful but it is awe, not lust, they inspire. Poseidon’s embrace, if I must call it so, was like being swept away by the sea. Water, salt, foam. Fear. And afterwards, pain. But far worse was the judgment of his proud-eyed niece, who said we’d profaned her temple with our lust. (Our lust.) And she changed us even more than her uncle had, inside and out: snakes for hair, bronze hands, and this petrifying gaze. We learned of this last gift when our mother came to see what delayed us at the temple.
We stayed at the temple until the townspeople drove us out with fire – it dazzled us, and we couldn’t turn our fatal look upon them all. Now we live in three caves on the hill. Theirs open inland, but mine faces the sea. At night, when I hear the surf and think he may be out on the fuck, I bellow. A warning.
When I couldn’t stand it anymore, my rage hardened into an idea. I crafted a veil and packed a few apples in a bag – we do our best to live like people up here – and crept out after dark.
You can see Olympus from anywhere in Thessaly. It glows a little at night, from the reflected divinity, and so you can walk by night if you wish. After a few days, I reached its foot and began to climb.
It’s slow work. Moving quietly seems wisest, and my metal hands, though the stones do not harm them, clank. But with each step I pull a little more away from the mortal world, where the gods enlace us in the traps of their whimsy, and closer to the plane where they live, unguarded. When I reach their splendid halls, I will cry out again, and when I see that haughty virgin, punisher of victims, I will tear aside my veil.
And I will look her in the eye.
Bio:
Chris Turner-Neal is a writer, editor, and terrier enthusiast living in Buenos Aires. His antics are recorded for a horrified posterity at upsidedownandinspanish.