Heaven Sent (4 page)

“Thalia?”

“What?” I asked. It was Mr. Zeitland. “Do you know the answer to this one?”

“Can you repeat the question?”

“What is the milky white substance that releases from the glands of the giant toad?”

I raised my hand. “Yes, Thalia?” he said dryly.

“Bufotoxin. And it’s often poisonous, or at the very least causes irritations in humans,” I said.

Mr. Zeitland looked a little stunned. “That is correct.”

Bufotoxin is a very popular ingredient in goddess spells. You can wreak all sorts of human havoc with just one giant toad, a winter white peach, and a snippet of Amazon hair.

It felt good to be smart in front of all these people. Although Polly, Era, and I are pretty young compared to most gods, we’ve still been around for thousands of years in human terms. Long enough to learn some stuff. Okay, a lot of stuff.

A girl with purple hair (purple hair!) looked my way and gave me the kind of smile that simply said, “Cool.” Very unlike the kind of smiles the girls in the
back row were flashing me now. Their smiles simply said, “Witch.” But I decided to just ignore them.

A bell rang, and everyone got up and pushed their way out the door, despite the fact that Mr. Zeitland was still in midsentence. The girl with the purple hair came over to us. “Hey, I’m Claire. Thalia, right?”

“Yeah, nice to meet you. This is my sister Era,” I said.

“So, like, what class you got next?” Era and I looked at our schedules that Mrs. Haze had given us before she left. “Geometry,” I said.

“Cool,” said Claire, “follow me.” And we did. As we walked into the hall we saw the three icy back-row girls leaning up against a row of lockers, just staring us down. The tallest one, with dark, curly hair looked at me and said, “Hey, you’re really smart.” Era smiled, but I just kept silent. “How do you know so much about frogs? Is that what you used to eat in, um,
Europe
?” All the people standing around the lockers started to laugh. Maybe these people weren’t so cool after all.

“Yeah. We eat them all the time. I guess it’s kinda
gross,” I said, looking at the beefy guy standing next to her, his arm looped around her shoulders and a slimy grin on his face, “but at least they’re not as slimy as
that
guy.” My new purple-haired pal Claire giggled, and I grinned at my own witty comeback. I’d had a lot of practice trading insults back home, with girls who were far smarter and craftier than these three. I lifted my chin as Claire, Era, and I strutted away in cool silence. That is, until Era whined, “I want another candy bar!”

E
ra and I had our morning classes together, but by the afternoon we were separated. Neither of us ran into Polly all day, so when we all met after school on the front steps, I was thrilled to see her. And she seemed genuinely happy to see us.

“I talked with a girl today who told me we can get food from this market that’s only two blocks from our house. Let’s stop there on the way home,” said Polly, her eyes sparkling just a little.

“Well, Claire, our new friend who has purple hair, she says the best food is from this little place called Weaver D’s,” I sang happily. “And get this—they make it for you. We don’t have to cook. We won’t starve after all!”

“I like the food here at school,” said Era. “Polly, I ate three of those candy bars, two little bags of potato chips, and this long sandwich someone called a hot dog. At first I was horrified, but it’s not really a dog,” Era added. “Anyway, I’m still hungry.”

“Let’s just try the market,” said Polly.

“Why?” I asked.

“Well”—she paused, wrinkling her freckly nose—“I think we should be learning while we’re here. You’re the one who wanted adventures, Thalia. Cooking could be an adventure. Why don’t we cook tonight and try your Weaver D’s place tomorrow?
Okay?”

“I guess. Claire says all the cool kids go to Weaver D’s. But fine.” We walked to the store, Era hobbling barefoot two steps behind us. The shoes had finally gotten to her.

“Hey, guys, wait up,” she said, sitting down on a rock and rubbing her feet. “I have to take care of this—my toes are killing me.” And with that, she started wriggling her nose.

“Era!” Polly yelled, jumping forward and covering Era’s nose. “I told you, no powers! Do you want to get us into more trouble than we’re already in?”

“Oh,” Era said sheepishly, standing up slowly. “Sorry, I forgot.”

We continued walking. “So, Polly, was your day as grand as ours?” I asked.

“It wasn’t so bad.”

Then all of the feelings I’d felt all day just started spewing out of me in one huge breath: “Well, I met so many new people, and they were all so exciting. Like Claire, she has purple hair and all sorts of jewelry, but way better than Hera’s gaudy stones. She’s just very modern and wacky and, well, she tells it like it is and she’s so nice. I mean, she shared her lunch with Era and me today and, well, it was delicious. And I know Olympus is home and all, but I think this could really be a fun adventure, and while I know you don’t like all that adventure talk, don’t you think
this could be splendid?”

“It’s not exactly supposed to be a vacation. We should be working on our tasks, you know, our punishment…” said Polly, all adultlike. “But I don’t know—maybe it won’t be terrible.”

“I love it here!” yelled Era, several feet behind us now. “There are so many new boys here I’ve never met. My goodness, they are heavenly! I knew all the boys back home already, and frankly, I was tired of them.”

“Boys, boys, boys. Do you ever think of anything besides boys?” I snapped. I didn’t mean to yell at Era, but boys weren’t exactly my favorite subject these days. Boys were the last thing on my mind. Or at least they should have been.
Well, one boy in particular should have been
. Still, I’d been thinking about Apollo all day, especially during my debate class. It was just that he was the best sparring partner I’d ever had. If I said that Neptune had a cool beard, he could go on endlessly, rapturously about how Neptune actually had no beard at all and in fact had never had a beard, much less a cool one. And in the end, I swear, I would’ve believed anything he said.

Suddenly I noticed that Polly was giggling. That snapped me back into reality—my serious-and-deeply-troubled-by-our-new-life sister was
giggling
. Obviously she’d had a better day than she’d let on. “What’s up with you?” I asked, taking a closer look at her.

“Nothing. I just like school, that’s all. You know, the books and stuff.” The light sprinkling of freckles on her nose stood out against her pale, flawless skin. She looked practically radiant.

“Yeah, I know,” I mumbled, but I didn’t. I mean, I liked learning, I guess. Really I liked knowing the answers. I liked being smart. And I’m sure Polly did, too. But she seemed happier than the kind of happy one gets over books. You know how book happy is an inner, private happy that makes you feel warm, cozy, and smart? Well, Polly seemed to be carrying around a whole boatload of happy on the outside.
But,
I told myself,
Polly has a mind all her own. Who knows what’s going on inside her head?

Two guys in a fancy red chariot slowed down in front of us to scream: “Era! Era! Meet us at the Varsity!”

“Who was that?” asked Polly, shocked.

“Some boys I met today in Latin. Cute, huh?”

“I couldn’t tell,” Polly said. “What’s the Varsity?”

“It’s another one of those places that makes food for you,” I said, because I knew. Claire had told me all the hot spots for people watching and good food that you don’t have to cook yourself.

“Well, then, let’s go there,” said Era. In case you haven’t guessed, boys and food are Era’s two favorite things. “Please, let’s go there, please.”

“Tomorrow. Today we’re trying the market,” Polly
said sternly.

“You said tomorrow we could go to Weaver D’s,” I cried.

“Fine, tomorrow Weaver D’s, the day after we will go to the Varsity!”

“How come you are dictating what we do?” asked Era.

“Because you, my dear sister, are the youngest, and Thalia, well, Thalia is the most irresponsible of us three and, face it, prone to flights of fancy. Had I taken charge back on Olympus, really taken hold of the reins myself, I dare say we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Are you really sure I’m more irresponsible than Era?” I asked, smiling at Era.

“Pretty sure,” said Polly.

“Thanks, I guess,” said Era.

And for some reason, we all just started laughing. That silly sister laugh that comes from knowing one another too well.

Outside the store a few minutes later, we watched an older humpbacked woman grab a metal pushcart and wheel it inside, so Polly did the same. “I’ll assume you fill this up with food?” she asked, but neither of us answered. Like we knew.

The inside of the market was dizzying. I had never before seen so much
stuff.
Even Daddy’s cook’s kitchen didn’t have one-seventieth this much food.
At least I thought it was food. Frankly, outside of the fruits and vegetables, it all looked foreign and inedible to me.

Polly took charge. “Okay, let’s start with what we know. Apples, oranges, pears, plums. Oh, there is grapefruit over there. Grab a few of those, Era, would you?”

“Look,” I said. “They got carrots. How do you think we cook ’em?”

“I don’t know. We will just put them in a pot and cook them. I’m sure it will be delicious. Grab a bunch.”

Onward we pushed to an aisle labeled Breakfast. There were boxes and boxes lining the shelves, each one with a different picture on it. Era loved these boxes. She wanted four or five. None of us had any idea how they would taste. But more important, Polly didn’t know how to cook them, and I surely didn’t. That’s when Era marched up to a handsome young man and asked, “Sir, excuse me, how does one cook this?”

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked back.

“No, why, is that funny?”

“Is this some sort of high school prank?” he asked her again.

“I don’t think so, and why are we talking in questions?” she asked. “I’m not from Georgia, and we don’t have these boxes where I am from. Is it hard to cook?”

He laughed. Like out loud and from the gut. “You don’t cook it. You pour it in a bowl, you pour some milk over it, and you eat it. Voilà,” and with that he turned and pushed his cart in the opposite direction, laughing.

Era was thrilled. “Yippee! No cooking! Let’s get lots of these boxes. And then we must find the milk. Hooray, I will not starve! I will eat Fruity O’s and Choco-Stars.”

Polly wasn’t sure we could survive on cereal alone, so we pushed on.

We picked up some hard, frozen boxes in the aisle marked Frozen Food. And we loaded up on colorful cans and more boxes in another aisle, marked Ethnic Foods. All the boxes had pretty pictures on them, and—luckily—what appeared to be directions on how to cook them.

Polly and Era seemed very happy with themselves, but I wasn’t satisfied yet. We’d traveled a really long way to earth—we might as well dine on the best it had to offer. We just needed to find out what that was.

As we turned into the last aisle, I spotted those three very pretty, very snotty back-row girls from bio. They were huddled together, whispering. Didn’t they ever do anything else? That uncomfortable feeling came back over me, and I thought about walking away, but then I remembered who I was. I decided to be the bigger gal and to ignore the fact that being
near these girls was making my heart beat just a little faster than usual. Maybe we’d just gotten off on the wrong foot. I walked straight up to them and said, “Hello. I’m taking a poll for the, um, the government of Georgia?” Governments did polls, right? “What is your most favorite food?” Hey, maybe I could get some real info from these chicks.

The one with the raven-colored stripes in her hair said, “Anchovies. Aisle six.”

The one with the pale porcelain skin said, “Sardines. Aisle six.”

And the one with the cold black eyes said, “Pickled pigs’ feet. Aisle ten.”

None of them said it with much of a smile. I thanked them; they winked at me; I suffered through a shiver down my spine. We started to walk away, but just before we turned the corner, Era pitched forward with a jolt, landing flat on her stomach in the middle of the aisle. Peals of laughter rang out from the girls behind us. I turned to throw a nasty look their way for being so rude, but even though their laughter was still echoing through the aisle, the girls themselves were nowhere to be seen. That’s when I noticed that my heart was pounding again, this time louder and faster than before. I let out a deep breath and headed toward my sister.

“It’s those shoes,” Polly chided Era as she pulled her up off the ground.

“I swear, it wasn’t,” Era said, dusting off her
clothes and looking confused and embarrassed. “One minute I was just walking, and the next minute I simply lost my balance.”

“It’s called tripping,” Polly said dryly. “On your shoes.”

After helping Era up and combing the whole store, we had amassed quite a bit of food. I was ready to leave. Polly got in the longest line. “This one is shorter,” I said, moving to the one next to it.

“No, it’s not,” she replied, a little out of breath.

“Clearly it is. C’mon, I wanna get home and play with that microwave thing.”

“This line is fine. We’re staying,” she said emphatically.

“Ohhh, candy bars. I want some of these, okay, Polly?” asked Era.

“Sure, go ahead.” Era grabbed like twenty of them and placed them in the cart.

When we finally got up to the front of the line, the mortal who put our food in the bags commented on our choices. “Dude, what’s with all the cereal? You girls having a slumber party?” And then he laughed
at his joke. I smiled to be polite, but I didn’t get why he thought his joke was so funny.

“Whoa, do you girls really eat this stuff? Pickled pigs’ feet? Oh, man, that’s gross. Look at that. That’s so very gross. I am so glad I’m a vegetarian.”

“Me too,” said Polly, very quietly. She didn’t even look up when she said it.

“Hey, you’re in my lit class, aren’t you, the new girl, right?” he asked. His name was Tim—it said so on his bright red vest.

“Yes, I’m Polly—it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah? Cool,” he said.

She smiled. He sort of smiled. This was weird.

“How will you be paying for this, ma’am?” asked the girl standing behind the counter.

“Um, MasterCard?” said Polly.

“Do you gals need help bringing the bags out to the car?” asked Tim.

“No, we don’t have a car,” I said. Polly shot me the look of death.

“We can manage, but thank you,” said Polly.

“Cool. See you in school, eh?” And then he was on to other people’s food.

As we walked out of the store, a thought pecked at my brain. Finally I had to ask her. “Polly, is that guy why you wanted to come to the market?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Thalia—what a ludicrous thought. How dare you insinuate such a thing!”

“I think the lady doth protest too much.” I’d learned that in English today. Cool, huh?

“What the heavens does that mean?”

“You sure are making a bigger deal of it than I did. I just asked a simple question. You gave me more than a simple answer.”

“These candy bars are so good. You guys wanna try these?” Era mumbled between mouthfuls of her favorite new food.

“No!” we both answered in unison.

Polly went on, “Boys are the last thing that should be on our minds. This shopping excursion has nothing to do with Tim. I just wanted some food, okay?”

Aha, she had noticed his name, too.

As we walked down the street, pushing our metal cart filled with Cocoa Lemmings and Sugar Nutz, pigs’ feet and Uncle Sal’s Vegetarian Bean Burgers, I could see splotches of color standing out on Polly’s fair cheeks. And she kept muttering softly to herself, “We are not here to meet boys, we are not here to meet boys,” as if she needed to be reminded.