Chapter Six Hundred and Seventy-one - Out of the mouths of babes (part three)
Chapter Six Hundred and Seventy-one - Out of the mouths of babes (part five)

Chapter Six Hundred and Seventy-one - Out of the mouths of babes (part four)


(part four)

“They do this think they call ‘walking time.’ So the moment I ask for them, they kind of pop in,” Sandy said. “Some people don’t like it. Freaks them out.”

“Whatever,” Holmes said. “It’s not going to be the worst thing that happened to me.”

“Hold you breath,” Sandy said.

Holmes nodded.

“Heather, I need you,” Sandy said.

Heather appeared a second afterward.

“Shit, that’s crazy!” Holmes said.

His bright eyes and laugh indicate his irrepressible joy for life. Heather looked at him and then back at Sandy. She scowled and opened her mouth.

“He says there’s a verse of the prophecy left out,” Sandy said.

Heather turned to Holmes.

“This is very important,” Heather said. “Can you explain it to me?”

Holmes opened his mouth to start and Heather shook her head.

“Would you mind if I touch you?” Heather asked.

Holmes shook his head. Heather reached out to hold his nearest hand. For Holmes’ part, he was flooded with a sense of peace and love. Tears fell from his eyes at the sheer joy of being so loved. The feeling lingered for weeks after this experience. He would later attribute this moment to changing his life forever. But right now, he simply enjoyed the sensation.

After a moment, Heather shifted away.

“Hecate,” Heather said. “Perses.”

The Titans appeared. Perses had Cleo the cat on his shoulders.

“Hey!” Sandy said. “You can’t treat my cat like that!”

“We thought you might want the whole family,” Hecate said.

Sandy pulled the cat from Perses’ arms. She walked away from them talking to her cat.

“This is Holmes Olivas,” Heather said. “Holmes, I’d like you to meet Hecate and Perses. I believe that you know who they are.”

Still high from his experience of being touched by the goddess of love, he just waved at them.

“He says that there is another verse to the prophecy,” Heather said in Ancient Greek.

“You’re being rather rude,” Perses said, in English.

“He speaks it fluently,” Heather said. “He’s Troy Olivas’ eldest son, raised for his first years by his uncle, Homer. I believe you had some interactions with him.”

“Horrible man,” Hecate said. “Rotten to the core. I bet he made you learn the language so that he could get credit for all of those translations.”

“Exactly,” Heather said. “He abused his children horrifically.”

“Oh no!” Hecate said. Without asking, she touched Holmes’ hand. “I’m so sorry. If he were alive, I would smite him for you. Since he is gone, I can assure you that he will never return.”

Overwhelmed, Holmes began to weep.

“Cleo wants to be out here with you,” Sandy said. She pointed to Perses and squinted, “You be nice.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Perses said, taking the cat from Sandy.

Cleo climbed up onto Perses’ shoulders as if the Titan was wearing a feline shawl.

“What did you do?” Sandy asked. She knelt down to Holmes. “This is a child. He looked bigger and older, more mature, but he . . .”

“We understand,” Hecate said. “No one in this world understands his experience, your experience, more than I do. You have my power.”

Denver Cereal continues tomorrow...


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