Sometimes I just need to reread the Homeric Hymn to Demeter.
Demeter telling Celeus' daughters that she is Cretan is cinema in its purest form 🎥 it gives it that Odyssean touch… OH! wait, which came first, the chicken or the egg?
And Iambe "making her smile" ejejejej yeah... WAS MARVELLOUS.
Blond Crested Woodpecker (Celeus flavescens): digital design on the left, and an appliqué (?) version courtesy of http://cartonetchiffons.canalblog.com/
Polyhymnia has been keeping a secret. But she doesn’t want to anymore. Or, an introduction to Celeus.
—————
Polyhymnia had a secret.
She wasn’t one to keep things from others. Especially not her sisters — in her whole life, she could count on one hand the mount of times she kept secrets from them. And none were as big as this one. She tried not to think about it, about the look on Erato’s face when she found out. Or the look on Euterpe’s face. Euterpe didn’t like secrets — she didn’t like being the last to know.
It wasn’t that she was withholding without a reason. She just didn’t want to make a big deal out of something that might just be nothing. Besides, this was a big secret.
The secret had a name. And his name was Celeus.
Poly didn’t mean for Celeus to be a secret. She didn’t mean for him to be anything, really. But this was before the daisies started arriving at tête-à-tête, delivered with care. The little cards were full of words, cramped handwriting trying to explain the scientific properties of daisies while saying that daisies reminded him of her because they were so bright and beautiful. Celeus wasn’t supposed to be anything — he was a post doc at Asphodel, studying botany. He worked part time at Six Seeds, helping Persephone troubleshoot soil problems between classes.
When Poly walked in one day, on her way to have dinner with Melpomene, she wasn’t expecting to see him.
“Oh! Polyhymnia!” Persephone smiled as she walked in the door, wiping her hands on her apron. Her hair was free flowing and wild, a pair of sunglasses on her head, keeping the curls out of her face. “I’ve got something I want to show you! Celeus — can you bring me out the bonsai?”
Poly smiled, and adjusted her bag on her shoulder as she walked into the shop further. She loved Seph’s space — loved the hanging plants, and the fragrance, and the way that everything looked so seamlessly mismatched. She thought she could recognise everything in this place. That was, until she looked up and saw him.
He smiled at her with his eyes, his mouth slack. Poly didn’t hear it, but Persephone heard a slight gasp from the boy. “Celeus — this is Polyhymnia.” Poly looked up at him, her eyes wide. She cleared her throat after only a moment, but she had still held her silence for a little too long.
“Nice to meet you, Polyhymnia,” Celeus stuttered out, his smile finally reaching his lips, revealing a gentle dimple on his cheek. He tried to reach out to shake her hand, but the small tree was still in his grasp, so it looked more as if he was pushing the tree directly at her. Poly giggled and stepped back.
“Poly’s fine. Nice to meet you as well…. Celeus, was it?” Seph watched the boy melt as he nodded at her. And then lapsed into silence. Rolling her eyes, Seph stepped in, taking the Bonsai out of his hands, and gently handing it to Poly.
* * *
Soon bouquets started showing up at the bookshop. he started waiting in the lobby of the music academy, ready to walk her home, even though he lived thirty minutes in the other direction. He dropped off meals, and bought the books she mentioned, even if he didn’t really understand them.
He didn’t question why Poly kept her hands in her pockets the entire walk home. Or why she never took him up on his offer to buy her a coffee at Ambrosia, or at the Dust Bowl.
Poly tried to keep him at an arm's length, but soon enough she decided that she didn’t want to.
She let him eat lunch with her when he stopped by the bookstore. She found herself itching to feel what his hand felt like clasped together with hers. She wanted to know how he took his coffee. Wanted to see his bookshelves. Wanted to know what it felt like to share her heart with him in a way she had never wanted to share with anyone else.
“Have I ever mentioned how great you look in green?” Celeus was sitting on the ladder that was leaning against the wall.
“Oh… thank you,” Poly said, grabbing another stack of books, continuing to restock the shelves. She looked down at the part of her scarf that rest on her shoulders. “Orpheus picked this colour out when he was little. It’s always been my favourite.”
“I mean, you look beautiful in every colour,” he said, never taking his eyes off her. She turned away to hide her blush.
“Oh, so you’re a poet now?” She challenged him, a smile on her face. He couldn’t see it but could hear it in her voice.
“Nah,” he said, getting off the ladder, and walking over to hand her some books. “Just a lousy botanist.”
They worked quietly, side by side. Poly didn’t know what to do — the silence felt so fragile, she didn’t want to shatter this moment. She wanted to preserve it under glass, to look at in dark days.
“You deserve a poet though,” he said, fixing spines on the shelf. More silence.
“…What if I said I don’t want a poet,” Poly said, biting her bottom lip, channelling whatever confidence she had left to try and keep this moment alive. Erato was good at this — she was good at flirting and saying the right things. All Poly could come up with was a million words that were not her own. She found solace within the pages of books, between lines of sonnets. She didn’t know how to form her own sentences. How does one build a love story when they have no foundations?
“What if I said it was you that I wanted.”
She could see Celeus out of the corner of her eyes, could see him tilt his head and look over at her. She turned her back to the shelf and he slowly moved to stand in front of her.
They looked at each other, one of Poly’s hands on the shelf behind her to steady herself as she looked up into his warm, dark eyes. The shone like stars as he looked down at her. His hands by his side for a moment, before he reached up slowly to cup her cheek. She felt his palm against her cheek and struggled to not lean into it, lean into him.
And with the words of lovers, old and young, at her back, she rose onto her toes and pressed their lips together. In the crowded aisle, surrounded by poetry, Polyhymnia could only imagine that this was what champagne must feel like — pent up energy, the idea of celebration, the fizz of new adventure. And Celeus couldn’t help but smile against her lips. This women, this beauty he had sought after. He loved the way her mind worked, the way she went through the world with kindness and care. He wouldn’t jinx it, wouldn’t ask for any more than she would give him, but he imagined a possible future where this happened regularly. And he couldn’t help but giggle.
“Why are you laughing,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his, afraid that the moment could shatter like glass if she spoke any louder.
“Because I somehow got the most incredible woman alive to kiss me.”
***
“Can I ask you a question?”
Polyhymnia was sat at the bar after hours — she stopped in after she had shut the bookstore. Celeus had picked her up and walked her to the bar. She wanted to tell him to come inside, but she stopped herself. She wasn’t ready to invite him any further into her life, until she knew exactly where he would fit. He understood, even if she didn’t say it aloud. He understood, but that didn’t stop him from smiling at her, reaching for her waist, waiting for her to loop her arms around his neck before he leaned in to kiss her. A few moments later, she needed to pull away and enter the Dust Bowl, smiling at him as he walked away.
“Of course,” Orpheus said, spray bottle in one hand, rag in the other. Eurydice had hopped the bar a few minutes earlier, and stole the little notebook in his apron pocket, so she could take stock and start bringing things upstairs from the cellar.
“It’s about Eurydice.” Like clockwork, his pale cheeks went rosy, and he lifted his eyes to look at his aunt.
“What about her?”
“When… I don’t know. When did you know that it was right. When did you decide to bring her home?” She watches as Orpheus’ face continued to brighten at the thought of memories Poly had no access to.
“I mean, I kind of knew from the moment I saw her,” he started, wiping down the counters methodically. “I just couldn’t look away. And then I realised that… that…” He trailed off for a moment, his eyes not meeting Poly’s.
“Sorry, O,” she said quickly. “Weird question, forget I even as—“ Poly tried to speak quickly, tried to negate his need to answer the question, but her nephew was faster.
“I realised that I wanted her to be apart of every aspect of my life. And that even if it was hard, I didn’t care.” He looked up at his aunt, and smiled softly, mostly with his eyes. “Introducing Eurydice to you guys was terrifying, but I would have burst if I had to keep the two most important parts of my life separate from one another.”
“What are we talking about?” Poly looked over Orpheus’ shoulder to see Eurydice carrying up two cases of various bottles. Orpheus turned quickly to help lighten her load. Poly looked for words, but her nephew, the Poet, always had the right ones.
“About when you first met my aunts,” Orpheus said, sliding one of the boxes under the bar before sliding out of the way to let Eurydice drop her box beside his.
“Oh you mean one of the most terrifying days of my life?” She said, laughing. She wiped her hands on her jeans before pushing her hair behind her ears.
“Oh come on — we weren’t that bad,” Poly tried to reason. This earned her a withered glare for Eurydice.
“You were fine, Poly,” Eurydice chuckled. Orpheus wrapped his arms around her middle and rested his chin on her head. She wanted to know what it felt like to have Celeus hold her like that. “You and Thalia. Clio, to some extent. But Urania? Melpomene? Erato? I had to meet all of you at once. There was nowhere to hide!”
“And I told you why!” Orpheus countered, chuckling and squeezing his girlfriend’s waist slightly. “They would have never forgiven me if one of them met you before the others did.”
“Oh, is that what we’re saying now.” Poly started to zone out, watching the young lovers bicker back and forth with smiles on their face. She turned, looped her fingers through his belt loops. He reached up to brush her hair behind her ear as she went on about the quirks of Poly’s sisters.
Poly’s mind drifted to the curly haired boy she had shared kisses with in the poetry section. Who she played piano for, as he sat backwards on the bench beside her. She wanted him to be by her side, to meet her sisters. She didn’t want him to feel like a little secret. And he wouldn’t be for much longer.
