Untitled Part 4
'HELLO, MRS JACKSON! IS PERCY HOME?'
I shivered and dripped on her welcome mat, my two equally bedraggled companions behind me.
For a heartbeat, Sally Jackson remained frozen in her doorway, a smile on her face, as if she'd been expecting a delivery of flowers or cookies. We were not that.
Her driftwood-brown hair was tinselled with more grey than it was six months ago. She wore tattered jeans, a loose green blouse and a blob of apple sauce on the top of her bare left foot. She was not pregnant any more, which probably explained the sound of the giggling baby inside her apartment.
Her surprise passed quickly. Since she'd raised a demigod, she'd doubtless had lots of experience with the unexpected. 'Apollo! Meg! And –' She sized up our gigantic tattooed, mohawked train conductor. 'Hello! You poor things. Come in and dry off.'
The Jackson living room was as cosy as I remembered. The smell of baking mozzarella and tomatoes wafted from the kitchen. Jazz played on an old-fashioned turntable – ah, Wynton Marsalis! Several comfy sofas and chairs were available to plop upon. I scanned the room for Percy Jackson but found only a middle-aged man with salt-andpepper hair, rumpled khakis, oven mitts and a pink dress shirt covered by a bright-yellow apron splattered with tomato sauce. He was bouncing a giggly baby on his hip. The child's yellow onesie pyjamas matched the man's apron so perfectly that I wondered if they'd come as a set.
I'm sure the chef and baby made for an adorable, heartwarming scene. Unfortunately, I'd grown up on stories about Titans and gods who cooked and/or ate their children, so I was perhaps not quite as charmed as I might have been.
'There is a man in your apartment,' I informed Mrs Jackson.
Sally laughed. 'This is my husband, Paul. Excuse me a sec. I'll be right back.' She dashed towards the bathroom.
'Hi!' Paul smiled at us. 'This is Estelle.'
Estelle giggled and drooled as if her own name was the funniest joke in the universe. She had Percy's sea-green eyes and clearly her mother's good nature. She also had wisps of black and silver hair like Paul, which I had never seen on a baby. She would be the world's first salt-andpepper toddler. All in all, it seemed Estelle had inherited a good genetic package.
'Hello.' I wasn't sure whether to address Paul, Estelle or whatever was cooking in the kitchen, which smelled delicious. 'Er, not to be rude, but we were hoping to – Oh, thanks, Mrs Jackson.'
Sally had emerged from the bathroom and was now busily wrapping Meg, Lu and me in fluffy turquoise bath towels.
'We were hoping to see Percy,' I finished.
Estelle squealed with delight. She seemed to like the name Percy .
'I'd like to see him, too,' Sally said. 'But he's on his way to the West Coast. With Annabeth. They left a few days ago.'
She pointed to a framed picture on the nearest end table. In the photo, my old friends Percy and Annabeth sat side by side in the Jackson family's dented Prius, both of them smiling out of the driver's-side window. In the back seat was our mutual satyr friend Grover Underwood, mugging for the camera – eyes crossed, tongue stuck out sideways, hands flashing peace signs. Annabeth leaned into Percy, her arms wrapped around his neck like she was about to kiss him or possibly choke him. Behind the wheel, Percy gave the camera a big thumbs-up. He seemed to be telling me directly, We're outta here! You have fun with your quests or whatever!
'He graduated high school,' Meg said, as if she'd witnessed a miracle.
'I know,' Sally said. 'We even had cake.' She pointed to another picture of Percy and Sally, beaming as they held up a baby-blue cake with darker blue icing that read CONGRATULATIONS, PERCY THE GRADUTE! I did not ask why graduate was misspelled, dyslexia being so common in demigod families.
'Then –' I gulped – 'he's not here.'
It was a silly thing to say, but some stubborn part of me insisted that Percy Jackson must be here somewhere, waiting to do dangerous tasks for me. That was his job!
But, no. That was the old Apollo's way of thinking – the Apollo I'd been the last time I was in this apartment. Percy was entitled to his own life. He was trying to have one, and – oh, the bitter truth! – it had nothing to do with me.
'I'm happy for him,' I said. 'And Annabeth ...'
Then it occurred to me that they'd probably been incommunicado since they left New York. Cell phones attracted too much monstrous attention for demigods to use, especially on a road trip. Magical means of communications were slowly coming back online since we'd released the god of silence, Harpocrates, but they were still spotty. Percy and Annabeth might have no idea about all the tragedies we'd faced on the West Coast – at Camp Jupiter, and before that in Santa Barbara...
'Oh, dear,' I muttered to myself. 'I suppose that means they haven't heard –'
Meg coughed loudly. She gave me a hard shut-up glare.
Right. It would be cruel to burden Sally and Paul with news of Jason Grace's death, especially when Percy and Annabeth were making their way to California and Sally must already be worried about them.
'Haven't heard what?' Sally asked.
I swallowed dryly. 'That we were coming back to New York. No matter. We'll just –'
'Enough small talk,' Lu interrupted. 'We are in grave danger. These mortals cannot help us. We must go.'
Lu's tone wasn't exactly disdainful – just irritated, and maybe concerned for our hosts. If Nero tracked us to this apartment, he wouldn't spare Percy's family just because they weren't demigods.
On the other hand, the Arrow of Dodona had told us to come here. There had to be a reason. I hoped it had something to do with what Paul was cooking.
Sally studied our large tattooed friend. She didn't look offended, more like she was taking Lu's measure and pondering whether she had any clothes large enough to fit her. 'Well, you can't leave dripping wet. Let's get you some dry things to wear, at least, and some food if you're hungry.'
'Yes, please,' Meg said. 'I love you.'
Estelle burst into a fresh peal of giggles. She had apparently just discovered that her father's fingers could wiggle, and she considered this hilarious.
Sally smiled at her baby, then at Meg. 'I love you, too, dear. Percy's friends are always welcome.'
'I have no idea who this Percy is,' Lu protested.
'Anyone who needs help is always welcome,' Sally amended. 'Believe me, we've been in danger before, and we've come through it. Right, Paul?'
'Yep,' he agreed without hesitation. 'There's plenty of food. I think Percy has some clothes that will fit, uh, is it Apollo?'
I nodded morosely. I knew all too well that Percy's clothes would fit me, because I'd left here six months ago wearing his hand-me-downs. 'Thank you, Paul.'
Lu grunted. 'I suppose ... Is that lasagne I smell?'
Paul grinned. 'The Blofis family recipe.'
'Hm. I suppose we could stay for a bit,' Lu decided.
The wonders never ceased. The Gaul and I actually agreed on something.
'Here, try this.' Paul tossed me a faded Percy T-shirt to go with my ratty Percy jeans.
I did not complain. The clothes were clean, warm and dry, and after trudging underground across half of Manhattan my old outfit smelled so bad it would have to be sealed in a hazardous waste pouch and incinerated.
I sat on Percy's bed next to Estelle, who lay on her back, staring in fascination at a blue plastic doughnut.
I ran my hand across the faded words on the T-shirt: AHS SWIM TEAM . 'What does AHS stand for?'
Paul wrinkled his nose. 'Alternative High School. It was the only place that would take Percy for just his senior year, after ... You know.'
I remembered. Percy had disappeared for the entirety of his junior year thanks to the meddling of Hera, who zapped him across the country and gave him amnesia, all for the sake of making the Greek and Roman demigod camps unite for the war with Gaia. My stepmother just loved bringing people together.
'You didn't approve of the situation, or the school?' I asked.
Paul shrugged. He looked uncomfortable, as if saying anything negative would go against his nature.
Estelle gave me a drooling grin. 'Gah?' I took this to mean Can you believe how lucky we are to be alive right now?
Paul sat next to her and gently cupped his hand over her wispy hair.
'I'm an English teacher at another high school,' he said. 'AHS was ... not the best. For kids who are struggling, at risk, you want a safe place with good accommodations and excellent support. You want to understand each student as an individual. Alt High was more like a holding pen for everybody who didn't fit into the system. Percy had been through so much ... I was worried about him. But he made the best of the situation. He really wanted to get that diploma. I'm proud of him.'
Estelle cooed. Paul's eyes wrinkled around the edges. He tapped her nose. 'Boop.'
The baby was stunned for a millisecond. Then she laughed with such glee I worried she might choke on her own spit.
I found myself staring in amazement at Paul and Estelle, who struck me as even greater miracles than Percy's graduation. Paul seemed like a caring husband, a loving father, a kind stepfather. In my own experience, such a creature was harder to find than an albino unicorn or threewinged griffin.
As for baby Estelle, her good nature and sense of wonder rose to the level of superpowers. If this child grew up to be as perceptive and charismatic as she appeared to be now, she would rule the world. I decided not to tell Zeus about her.
'Paul ...' I ventured. 'Aren't you worried about having us here? We might endanger your family.'
The corners of his mouth tightened. 'I was at the Battle of Manhattan. I've heard about some of the horrible things Sally went through – fighting the Minotaur, being imprisoned in the Underworld. And Percy's adventures?' He shook his head in respect. 'Percy has put himself on the line for us, for his friends, for the world, plenty of times. So, can I risk giving you a place to catch your breath, some fresh clothes and a hot meal? Yeah, how could I not?'
'You are a good man, Paul Blofis.'
He tilted his head, as if wondering what other kind of man anyone would possibly try to be. 'Well, I'll leave you to get cleaned up and dressed. We don't want dinner to get burned, do we, Estelle?'
The baby went into a fit of giggles as her father scooped her up and carried her out of the room.
I took my time in the shower. I needed a good scrubbing, yes. But mostly I needed to stand with my forehead against the tiles, shaking and weeping until I felt like I could face other people again.
What was it about kindness? In my time as Lester Papadopoulos, I had learned to stand up under horrendous verbal abuse and constant life-threatening violence, but the smallest act of generosity could ninja-kick me right in the heart and break me into a blubbering mess of emotions.
Darn you, Paul and Sally, and your cute baby, too!
How could I repay them for providing me this temporary refuge? I felt like I owed them the same thing I owed Camp Jupiter and Camp Half-Blood, the Waystation and the Cistern, Piper and Frank and Hazel and Leo and, yes, especially Jason Grace. I owed them everything.
How could I not?
Once I was dressed, I staggered out to the dining area. Everyone was seated around the table except Estelle, who Paul informed me was down for the night. No doubt all that pure joy required a great amount of energy.
Meg wore a new pink smock dress and white leggings. If she cherished these as much as the last outfit Sally had given her, she would end up wearing them until they fell off her body in burned-and-shredded rags. Together with her red high-tops – which thankfully had been well cleaned – she sported a Valentine's Day colour theme that seemed quite out of character, unless you considered her sweetheart to be the mountain of garlic bread she was shovelling into her mouth.
Lu was dressed in an XXL men's work shirt with ELECTRONICS MEGA - MART stitched over the pocket. She wore a fluffy turquoise towel around her waist like a kilt, because, she informed me, the only other trousers in the apartment large enough to fit her were Sally's old maternity trousers and, no thank you, Lu would just wait for hers to get out of the dryer.
Sally and Paul provided us with heaping plates of salad, lasagne and garlic bread. It wasn't Sally's famous sevenlayer dip, but it was a family-style feast like I hadn't experienced since the Waystation. That memory gave me a twinge of melancholy. I wondered how everyone there was doing: Leo, Calypso, Emmie, Jo, little Georgina ... At the time, our trials in Indianapolis had felt like a nightmare, but in retrospect they seemed like happier, simpler days.
Sally Jackson sat down and smiled. 'Well, this is nice.' Shockingly, she sounded sincere. 'We don't have guests often. Now, let's eat, and you can tell us who or what is trying to kill you this time.'
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