A Dream Come True

5. Hermes

Hermes

The jar vibrated so hard it looked as if it were going to explode. Then out of the top flew an athletic looking, blond teenager wearing winged sandals, a bright white toga, a traveler’s gray cloak, and a round hat that also had a small, golden wing on each side. In one hand, he carried a short staff, the caduceus, around which two snakes twined, and just above them were two wings, with a small sphere centered between them. In the other hand, he carried a golden lyre.

“Hermes?” asked Yong, not sure exactly what to do next. It was one thing to watch the myths happening through the “window,” but confronting one of the characters in person was a completely different experience—especially where the temperamental Greek gods were concerned.

“I am indeed,” replied Hermes. To Patrick he added, “Beware of opening random jars. You never know who—or what—might pop out of them.”

“How did you happen to end up in one?” asked Keisha. Like Yong, she was uncertain how to approach the situation. Since this was a dream—she hoped—it probably shouldn’t matter, but she felt uncomfortable anyway.

“I wanted to see your expressions when I popped out,” said Hermes, smiling. “I’m sure you know my reputation for tricks. The day I was born I got out of my cradle on Olympus, walked all the way to Pieria (about forty-three of your miles), and noticed the cattle my big brother Apollo was herding. I thought it would be a good trick to steal some while he wasn’t looking, so I picked out a few to take—well, more than a few, to be honest. I covered their hooves with boots so that they would leave no tracks and led them to Pylos, over four hundred and thirty-four of your miles away.”

“I can see how someone like you could cover that distance,” said Mateo, “but how did you get the cattle to walk that far, especially since they had to do it fast enough for Apollo not to notice?”

“The human storytellers do not say,” replied Hermes, “but it must have been magic, don’t you think?” He waved his caduceus, and the air sparkled around it.

“When I got the cattle to Pylos,” he continued, “I sacrificed a couple to my fellow gods, eating a little of the meat myself. The rest I kept at Pylos.

“Not a bad prank for a day-old infant, you must admit,” he said, clearly still proud of what he had done.

“Apollo couldn’t have been happy with that,” said Fatima.

Hermes chuckled. “Oh, indeed he wasn’t. He used his prophetic gifts to find me, and he demanded I return the cattle. Naturally, I denied everything, my defense being that as a baby, I could scarcely have committed the crime. However, since I was a talking baby, he didn’t believe me, and so eventually I had to lead him back to the cattle.”

“So you lost everything?” asked Patrick. Clearly, he’d been hoping for pointers on how to get away with things and was disappointed Hermes had been caught.

“Not quite,” said Hermes, smiling again. “You see, after sacrificing the cattle, I used some of the guts to make strings for a lyre just like this one. When I played it for Apollo, who had always appreciated music, he wanted the new instrument, and without hesitation, he traded the cattle for it. Later I made another for myself, and much later one for Orpheus, who was among other things a favorite music student of Apollo. By then Apollo had long since forgiven me, and we had become as close as brothers should be.”

“I didn’t realize the Greeks had a god of pranks,” said Patrick, who, much to everyone’s surprise, seemed genuinely interested. Probably he was contemplating some pranks of his own.

Hermes chuckled again. “I wasn’t really the god of pranks, though I certainly enjoyed them. My chief role was as the messenger of the gods, because of my speed.” He flew around a little to demonstrate, and there was no question—he was fast.

“Given my skills, I was also the god of thieves—and merchants, which gives you a good idea of how the ancient Greeks thought of merchants. Perhaps, though, my association with merchants came from the fact that I am also the god of travelers and of roads. Merchants typically had to travel, or at least hire someone else to, and a good deal of this travel required roads.

“I am also sometimes associated with athletes. Some artists considered me an example of the ideal male adolescent form—though I think Big Brother Apollo might have disputed that claim.”

“How can you be a teenager when you’re so old?” asked Patrick.

“The gods can appear as they wish,” replied Hermes. With a wave of his staff he was a shriveled old man, then a baby, and then an identical copy of Patrick, who laughed loudly at the imitation. Finally, Hermes returned to his original form and gave a little bow. Everyone applauded since that seemed to be what he was waiting for.

“You know, all this talk of cattle has made me eager for sacrifices,” he said as soon as the applause was over. “Where are the animals you have brought me?”

They all froze, even though they kept telling themselves they were just dreaming. Hermes looked so positive that they were about to offer him a sacrifice. The whole situation had gone from fun to awkward in less than sixty seconds. Not only did they have no animals with them, but none of them except the agnostic Patrick belonged to a religious tradition in which sacrificing to Hermes would have been acceptable even if they had an animal and were willing to kill it.

Hermes stood there expectantly, letting them fret silently for almost a full minute. Then he started laughing so hard he nearly fell over.

“Ah, the looks on your faces!” he said. “Even after our short time together, you should surely be able to recognize a joke when you hear one.

“I can plainly see that you have no sacrificial animals with you. Besides that, I know enough about you and your society to know that much has changed in the mortal realm and that none of you worship me or my kin—nor could you, without violating your own principles.”

“Back in the day, you and your kind did care, though,” said Mateo.

“Yes, as you say, ‘back in the day’ the stories told of gods who expected to be worshiped and harshly punished those who did not. So that I will not confuse you, I tell you plainly that I am not quite the Hermes of the storytellers. If I were, I could not be of much use to you.”

“Use to us?” asked Yasmin, looking worried about when the next joke was going to hit.

“I may be inspired by what the original storytellers wrote, but I am in your heads now, not theirs, am I not? And were you not just a short time ago talking about how each society adapts myths to its own purpose?”

Again, Keisha was unsettled by a dream character referring to the fact that it was a dream. However, what Hermes was saying made sense to her.

“So we can deal with you without fear of being smited if we do the wrong thing?” she asked.

Hermes chuckled yet again. “Smiting was always more Zeus’s area than mine, but yes, you may interact with me and the others without fear of being killed, cursed, transformed or generally made miserable. You may be pranked on occasion, though. You have been warned.” He said the last part so solemnly that some of them started to worry about what he had in mind.

“You will, however, be told the stories just as the ancient Greeks first heard them,” added the messenger of the gods. “Otherwise, you might become confused during your essay on the subject.”

Keisha was amazed Hermes was actually concerned about their upcoming essay, but something else caught her attention even more.

“The others?” she asked.

“I think you have spent enough time just watching events unfold,” said Hermes. “It is time for you to hear from those who participated. A few of the stories are mine, but many are not, and you would best hear those from the gods and humans who were the more closely involved.

“I will be your guide if you will have me, for I can take you anywhere very quickly, and the other function I did not mention was the guide of souls to the Underworld. There is no place I cannot go.

“Do you accept my offer?”

“Yes,” said Thanos. No one else objected.

By this point they were all ready to get out of the perpetual fog—and how does one really say no to someone who can show you the whole ancient Greek universe?

“In that case, let us go to Olympus,” said Hermes. He waved his staff, and before any of the students had time to think, they were in a marble throne room with two very imposing deities staring down at them from golden thrones.