Chapter Thirteen
The moment Kaydon said the Greek god’s name, I flashed to Mrs. Randolf’s class. The image of Hermes with his golden hair and bronze skin was as vivid in my mind now as it had been then. I didn’t know whether to feel relief that more pieces of the puzzle were falling into place or wonder whether both Kaydon and I had been drinking the same Kool-Aid.
“Ah, a budding Greek scholar,” Mr. Haverty exclaimed appearing with a pile of extra napkins and a water pitcher. “Like father, like daughter.”
My head whipped around so fast pain shot up the right side of my neck and I winced. “Excuse me?” I asked, not sure I’d heard him right.
A mask of confusion settled into place on Mr. Haverty’s face. “All that research your father is always doing is on Greek mythology. The pages I gave you last week were all about one god or another. I just assumed he was a mythology professor.”
“History,” I mumbled.
“Ah, right. He did tell me that.” Mr. Haverty chuckled and tapped the side of his head. “Memory isn’t so sharp at my age.”
I wish my memory wasn’t so sharp, I thought. That way maybe I could forget the last week. Or the last five years, for that matter.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” the Moonlight’s owner said before disappearing again.
I pushed my plate away, rested my elbows on the table, and cradled my forehead in my upturned palms. Nothing made sense. Yet, at the same time everything made sense. When I saw the slide of Hermes, I recognized him instantly. Kaydon’s assertion that he was the ferryman matched the explanation I’d pulled from thin air in Mrs. Randolf’s class. Uncomfortably, I realized where I’d actually met the messenger. Not in my dreams as I’d first concluded, but in the two minutes I’d been dead.
This new bit of knowledge chilled me. Earlier, I’d assumed Hermes visited me in my dreams. Now I knew differently. Kaydon’s words were like a key, unlocking a part of my memory that hadn’t been opened since the day it was sealed. As with the dreams, I couldn’t recall the details of my meeting with the messenger, but every fiber of my being felt that we had met eighteen years and ten days before.
“I remember meeting Hermes,” I told Kaydon, lifting my head to meet his eyes.
“You do?” Hope and relief resounded in those two words.
“Sort of,” I amended. “In class today, I saw his picture and knew that we’d met. I thought I was crazy at the time. I mean, who really thinks they’ve met a mythological god, right? But I knew I had. I just couldn’t remember where or when. I figured it was in my dreams, like how you said we met in your dreams. But now I’m positive we met the day I was born.”
Kaydon became visibly agitated at the reminder of his premonition about our meeting. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one uncomfortable discussing the aftermath of our respective near-death experiences.
“What was the dream you had about me?” I asked, suddenly very interested.
Kaydon shook his head, his cheeks colored slightly. “It was stupid,” he murmured.
“I want to know,” I pressed.
Kaydon sighed. “I dreamt about the party at Elizabeth’s. We were supposed to meet for the first time there.”
We were supposed to meet for the first time there? I didn’t like the sound of that. It was like we were fated to have that encounter.
“So you remember Hermes, but not the Panel or the Judgment?” Kaydon said after a long pause. He seemed eager to change the subject.
“I’m sorry, I don’t. Maybe I will, though. I just turned eighteen last week, so maybe in time I will remember?” I suggested hopefully. As much as all of this freaked me out, I hated only knowing part of the story. If ― big IF― I had met this Panel and been through a Judgment, I wanted that memory.
“No.” Kaydon shook his chestnut locks definitively. “No one forgets going before the Panel and waiting for the Judgment. Every agonizing detail is burned into my mind. Besides, they want you to remember. That way you won’t violate the contract.”
For the third time that night, the urge to demand he speak American English seized me. All this talk of panels and judges, and now contracts, could have been taking place at the dinner table with my mother. Yet, somehow I doubted Mom would have thrown in words like “ferryman” and “beaches of the recently departed.”
I took a deep breath to calm my racing thoughts. “Maybe you could start at the beginning. I have no idea what the Panel is or what kind of Judgment you are talking about. And I definitely don’t know what an Egrgoroi is.”
Kaydon eyed me suspiciously while taking a large bite of his Reuben. He chewed thoughtfully for longer than necessary, mulling over how to phrase his next words. After he’d finally swallowed the masticated turkey and coleslaw, he downed half the contents of his water glass. Definitely stalling for time, I thought.
“When you die, the ferryman, Hermes, takes you before a panel of three judges, Rhadamanthus, Minos, and Aeacus. They are known as the Panel of Three. They weigh the positive contributions in your life against the negative ones and pass judgment accordingly. If the good outweighs the bad, you are sent to Elysian Fields. If the scales tip the other way, they sentence you to Tartarus. I hear that place is worse than any pit of hell the special effects crews in Hollywood can create.”
“Sounds like heaven and hell,” I said. Inasmuch as I’d given any thought to an afterlife, I sort of assumed mine would be spent in one of those two places. The places Kaydon had mentioned rang a bell, but that was likely from my mythology reading for Mrs. Randolf. Until lately, I’d been doing the homework every night.
“Sort of. The underworld is more complicated than that,” Kaydon told me. “Heaven and hell are just simplified versions used in modern-day religion. Elysian Fields is sort of like heaven and Tartarus is sort of like hell, except there are many different levels of each. Only the worst of the worst are condemned to spending eternity in the lowest circle of Tartarus. And only people like Mother Teresa end up drinking ambrosia with the gods in Elysian.”
The way Kaydon spoke with so much authority left little doubt that he believed his words were true. I, on the other hand, was a skeptic. I liked the idea of life after death and could not deny that his explanation for my electrical problems and visions made a lot of sense, although the rational side I’d inherited from Mom said that this was all a load of crap.
Kaydon’s story was a good one, but a story nonetheless, I lectured myself. He was offering me justification for every abnormality in my life. I desperately wanted to believe his words. But wanting something to be true does not make it so. And after being raised by a woman who didn’t buy anything science wasn’t selling, I remained unconvinced.
“I took one breath in this world. That hardly counts as a positive or negative contribution,” I pointed out. “How could anyone judge me as being good or evil?”
“First of all, it’s not as simple as good or evil. I told you, there are varying degrees of bad and good,” Kaydon said. “Second of all, the whole newborn thing is what I’m having trouble with.”
Oh, that was all? None of the rest of this bothered him?
“I distinctly remember the Panel telling me how lucky I was to have turned sixteen a couple of days before it happened. They told me that at sixteen I was old enough to decide whether I wanted to return to earth as an Egrgoroi. The contract stated that my service wouldn’t begin until I was eighteen, though. And that is consistent with what others have told me.”
What others had told him? So, I wasn’t the first person he’d met like him?
“There are others like us? I mean, like you at least?” I asked, realizing that if there was any truth to what he was saying there had to be. There were probably quite a few people like us, or him rather, out there.
“I’ve met a few,” Kaydon said evasively.
“Did you electrocute them, too?” I asked, in what I hoped was a playful voice. The conversation was too serious. I needed some levity before my brain exploded from the influx of improbable information.
The tension lining Kaydon’s forehead eased, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards in a slight smile. “No. I didn’t touch any of them.”
“How did you know then?” I asked in a small voice.
“Egrgoroi give off a higher electrical charge than normal humans and are more sensitive to electrical impulses. We can feel each other. I can feel the charge you give off right now. At the lake I just didn’t realize it soon enough. The water must have dulled the sensation and I didn’t register the charge until, well, until I touched you.”
“I feel it too,” I told him quietly. The energy radiating from Kaydon was what stopped me every time I considered touching him. It was an invisible barrier that surrounded his person like an electric fence, complete with a high voltage warning sign.
Kaydon sighed, and his expression turned pensive. “If you don’t remember making the agreement to become an Egrgoroi, then I don’t get how you can be one. You don’t even know what you’re supposed to do. But you have all the signs and you did die.” He seemed to be vocalizing his stream of consciousness rather than actually speaking to me.
“What agreement did I not make?” I asked. “What exactly is an Egrgoroi?”
“Egrgoroi is Greek for ‘watcher.’ It’s our job to ensure that events on earth unfold the way the gods want them to. We agree to receive messages and carry out the acts the way the visions show us in exchange for a second chance at life on earth.” Kaydon hesitated; maybe he’d said too much.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know too much more. What he was describing sounded a lot like destiny. A presence of destiny and fate, and whatever else you wanted to call it, meant an absence of free will. It meant that some supposedly superior beings were calling all the shots, using us lowly mortals like chess pawns.
“Endora?” Kaydon whispered my name like a question. “Are you okay? Believe me I know this is a lot. When I woke up in the hospital, I thought it was all a bad dream. I prayed it wasn’t real. Part of me kept that hope alive until I turned eighteen and the visions and visits began. At first they were stupid things, like you were saying. Within a couple of weeks they turned a little more serious.”
I needed to start collecting a dollar for every time someone asked me if I was okay. I could pay for college by the time this nonsense was sorted out.
No, I wasn’t okay. In ten days, the sun my world revolved around had gone from lacrosse practice and studying for AP exams to setting up trysts at a biker hangout to discuss the cosmic issue of destiny and whether or not I would play a role in ensuring that mankind fulfilled theirs.
“Can we talk about something else?” I asked. “I know this is why we met and all, but I…I,” I stuttered, not sure how to finish the statement.
In addition to my appetite, my sense of reality, right and wrong, good and evil, were gone. The fact that there may be people, these watchers, these Egrgoroi, influencing the outcome of a given situation did not sit well with me.
Were the Egrgoroi responsible for pivotal decisions throughout history? Did an Egrgoroi put the idea of shooting JFK in Lee Harvey Oswald’s mind? Were the gods bored one day and decided to have an Egrgoroi suggest the marriage between Marie Antoinette and the man who would become Louis XVI because they knew the French people didn’t want to eat cake and would, therefore, revolt? In a fair and just world, would Kelly Clarkson really have won the first season of American Idol? Or was her victory the result of Egrgoroi interference?
While I wanted to make a worthwhile contribution to humanity, I had no desire to spend the rest of my life coaching team Elysian or team Tartarus, calling plays from the underworld playbook. I’d been thinking more along the lines of Teach for America or Doctors Without Borders. Hell, I’d settle for graduating from high school at this point.
“It’s not the only reason I asked to see you. You aren’t exactly hard to look at. You’re a great athlete. Contrary to what some people think, I wouldn’t use any adjective to describe you that rhymes with witch. And Terrence tells me you’re easy.”
“What?” I demanded incredulously, startled out of my internal musings. “Terrence said what?”
Kaydon laughed. “Just wanted to see if you were paying attention. Your eyes were sort of glazed over, and you looked like you were tuned in to a different channel.”
“Very funny,” I scoffed, throwing a handful of the paper confetti I’d made from my napkin in his direction.
“Why don’t you tell me about your friends? Or the classes you are taking? Where you’re going to college?” Kaydon suggested.
So I did. I told him about Elizabeth and her dysfunctional family, Devon and Rick and their soap opera relationship, and Mandy and her upcoming date with Matthew Horcowitz. Kaydon said he didn’t personally know Matthew, but would do a background check for me. We were taking a number of the same AP classes, so we discussed the upcoming exams and how each of us was preparing. Or not preparing, in my case. I told him that the space next to my name on the Guidance Office wall of seniors still said undecided for the college I’d be attending. The acceptance deadlines were fast approaching, and my mother and I were still arguing over whether I could go out of state. Kaydon told me he planned on attending Johns Hopkins to play lacrosse.
We discussed our families. The normalcy of his life with a mother, father, and two younger sisters made my overprotective-mother-who-accused-my-father-of-kidnapping story that much more ridiculous. Kaydon was sympathetic and nonjudgmental, if not a little more interested in my parents’ fights than I thought prudent. But I guess when you come from a perfect family, maybe the drama was interesting.
Kaydon’s phone rang, from what sounded like his pocket, while he was telling me how his family had moved to Maryland from Connecticut because of his father’s job with a company that engineered jet parts.
“Sorry. I thought I turned the ringer off,” he said, reaching to silence his phone. When he saw the name on the display, he paused. “Hmm, don’t know who that is,” he commented as he sent the caller to voice mail. “So, yeah. I started at St. Paul’s in the fall of this year –” The phone was now vibrating on the table top. Kaydon picked it up, clearly annoyed. “It’s that number again,” he said, then rattled off ten digits I knew well.
My cheeks felt like they were on fire. How embarrassing. My mother was actually calling his phone.
“I am soooooo sorry,” I said. “It’s my mother. When I told her I was meeting you tonight, she asked for your number in case she needed to get in touch with me and I wasn’t answering my phone. I turned it on silent and – what time is it?”
Kaydon smirked. “It’s fine, Endora. Why don’t you answer, though? I don’t want her sticking the cops on my tail.”
I couldn’t decide if I found that funny as I snatched the phone from his hand and said a very annoyed greeting to my mother.
“Endora? I thought you said nine? It is now 9:15, and I am home and you are not,” Mom replied.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late. We’ll get the check, and then I will head home. Is that okay? I’ll be there by ten at the latest,” I promised.
“Please don’t dawdle, and drive carefully,” Mom told me and hung up.
I handed the phone back to Kaydon, apologizing profusely for my mother.
“I’ll go find the old man and pay the check,” Kaydon offered. “Don’t go until I get back.”
“You don’t have to pay. It’s not like this is a date,” I mumbled, now feeling embarrassed for a whole different reason.
Kaydon’s green eyes widened. “It’s not?” he asked. “We had dinner.” He seemed to reconsider. “Well, I had dinner and you played with your food.” He pointed to my plate of nibbled fries and untouched sandwich.
Impossibly, I blushed deeper. I wasn’t the type of girl who ordered salads without dressing on dates, only to go home and gorge on Twinkies afterwards. Our earlier conversation had left me with little desire to eat, and the latter one hadn’t left me time to squeeze in bites.
“We shared our innermost secrets,” Kaydon continued. “I know you have an irrational fear of revolving doors, and you know that when I was six I ate the last piece of my dad’s birthday cake and blamed it on the dog.” Kaydon paused for dramatic effect. “And in the parking lot, standing next to your car, I am going to at least try to kiss you.”
I was speechless. Not that a large part of me hadn’t been secretly hoping he would kiss me. I just couldn’t believe he actually said it. Kaydon left me staring, dumbstruck, as he went in search of Mr. Haverty.
Ten minutes later, we were indeed standing next to the Bug saying our goodbyes. Kaydon held up his palm midway between us. Tentatively, I mirrored the gesture. Electricity pulsed between our hands. The bluish white current lit up the space between our palms, audibly crackling as it traveled the short distance. The sight was mesmerizing, magnetically drawing my gaze and making it impossible to turn away.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked, my voice sounding unnaturally high-pitched.
“No. But you only live twice, right?” Kaydon teased, although it sounded a little forced.
His hand jerked forward, fingers intertwining with mine. The jolt reverberated through my entire body, causing my toes to tingle and my knees to go weak. Energy coursed in my veins, throwing my heartbeat into an irregular rhythm. Even if I’d wanted to break the connection, I doubted it would have been possible. I had no desire to pull away, however. Gone were the conflicted sensations that I’d come to associate with Kaydon. Only the craving to be closer to him, the thrill of being near him, the excitement over his touch, remained.
Kaydon felt it, too. And when I didn’t fall to the pavement convulsing, like I’d read some people do when electrocuted, Kaydon leaned closer until our lips were millimeters apart. Every hair stood on end, and I decided no first kiss would live up to the one I was about to have.
When our mouths finally met, the hum of electricity intensified, filling my ears with an insistent buzzing. The current was all around me, inside of me. I felt more alive than ever. Kaydon looped our joined hands behind his back, and I wrapped my free arm around his neck. The fine hairs on the back of his neck danced against my palm, each one sending a new charge up my arm. Kaydon’s free hand was on my waist, gently guiding me backwards until my back rested against the driver’s side door of the Bug.
Somewhere in that kiss, he made me a believer. Not in soul mates or kismet or any other fantastic notion of romantic love that Elizabeth constantly spouted, but in everything that he shared with me at dinner. There was something so honest and pure about him that I knew he was telling the truth. Now I just needed to figure out what it all meant.
“Maybe you could think about everything I said earlier, and when you’re ready, we could figure out how you came to be an Egrgoroi,” Kaydon said, when we finally broke apart.
“If I’m an Egrgoroi,” I corrected. One of my hands was still playing with his hair, absorbing the current that passed between us. The longer I sustained contact, the more pleasant the feeling became.
“You are one of us,” Kaydon said in a tone that left no room for debate. “It’s just not clear how it happened.”
“How are we going to figure that out?” I wanted to know.
“I will try and track down some of the others I’ve met. They’re older, been around longer. They might know more than I do,” Kaydon promised.
Before I could ask any more questions, his mouth found mine again. His lips were soft as they caressed mine. When the kiss became deeper, I was grateful to be leaning against the car because my legs were jelly. Both of Kaydon’s hands rested on my hips, helping keep me upright. Nothing existed outside our two bodies and I liked it that way.