“Put the fish head back. It is for the cyclops.” Thelus said.
“There is no cyclops.” Telepinus said. Thelus grabbed the fish head out of the child’s hands, squeezing the rotten brains out. He threw the remains into the marsh.
“And don’t stand on the altar.” Thelus said giving Telepinus a gentle push off the altar. Every night without fail Thelus placed a fish head on a hook above the altar for the cyclops, “What would your father say?”
“He won’t care.” Telepinus replied, “And he calls me Tep. My name is Tep.”
“Yes he will.” Thelus replied. “Crithoros is traditional.”
“Did you get woken up by your father yelling and screaming?” Tep asked.
“No.” Thelus replied. “He is my uncle, not my father.”
“Did you wash your eyes from the clay bowl when you woke up this morning?” Tep asked.
“No.”
“Did you carve a doll when you were eating breakfast?”
“No.”
“Did you tie your hammock with a fishing knot before you left the shanty you sleep in?”
“No.”
“Did you sit on the stone fence at the edge of the village until the sun was up?”
“No.”
“Are you going to walk to the shrine of Demeter and place an ear of grain on it?”
“No.”
“Will you place traps in Curvo Creek?”
“No.”
“How many fish will you catch?”
“It is a statue, not a doll.” Thelus said. “I am carving a statue.”
“Why did you throw the fish head in the marsh?” Tep asked skipping from question to question like a bird flits across the ground looking for seed.
“To feed the cyclops.” Thelus said.
“There is no cyclops in the little marsh.” Tep replied.
Poetry is how we worship the gods, understand the world and know how to live, Thelus said to himself to ready his voice, “Muses,” he whispered slipping into verse and smoothing his voice in rhythm, “sing to me of the cyclops brothers and how the little marsh, east of Athens on the Marathon Plain came to be:
Zeus, son of Cronus, who masses the storm clouds, said, ‘Cyclops, sons of Uranus, brothers four, Fashion me a weapon of lightning from tumultuous air’. The one-eyed brothers: Brontes, Steropes, Arges, stern of strength, offspring of father sky and mother earth, took to the task, forging Zeus his deadly lightning bolt. But the fourth sibling, Arkodes, work shy and idle, went back to their cave, quaffing sheep, gurgling wine, until overwhelmed with sleep and beastly snores.
The three brothers returned to their cave at Mount Agrieliki, ‘Wake Laziness!’ white-bolted Arges roared, stamping his foot. ‘Wake Idleness!’ lightning Steropes roared, stamping his foot. Brontes, thundering eldest, endowed with strength, ‘Gluttonous, lazy, and idle. Arkodes, I curse you absent!’ Brontes, crushed the cave with his foot, creating a spring. “By blue-maned Poseidon,” Brontes roared, ‘you will toil, without food or rest, stopping the cool spring water, from ever reaching the wine dark sea. No idleness for you.’ And, Brontes created the Vima with the flowing spring, and Steropes created Mesis, and Arges created Katou. Apeontesde, the village was called, ‘to the absent.’
Arkodes weeps as he toils, ‘Forsaken by kin!’ His stomach rumbles with hunger, mouth dry for wine, eye sore for sleep, as he traps the spring in the little marsh.
“There is no cyclops in the marsh.” Tep repeated.
“The fish head would be eaten if the cyclops escaped his brother’s curse.” Thelus said. “He is still in the marsh and very hungry.” Telepinus shrugged. Thelus was frustrated. This morning was all wrong, he had been woken early by honking geese that were the focus of his Uncle’s rage and now this child was disturbing his routine at the marsh’s altar.
“What are you doing here anyway?” Thelus said.
“I want to see the ships.” Tep said.
“There are no ships.” Thelus replied.
“You haven’t tied your satchel like you normally do.” Tep said.
“I tie it how I want.”
“Nah uh.” Tep replied, “You do it the same way every morning”.
“Why are you awake?” Thelus asked.
“I eat my peas.” Telepinus replied.
“What is that supposed to mean.”
“I eat them.” The child continued.
“Your father was up early too.” Thelus said.
“My father saw you.” Tep said. Thelus pursed his lips. He thought he had managed to escape out of the village without anyone seeing him.
“No he didn’t.” Thelus said, “Why are you following me?”
“I have a fig you can eat with your gruel.” Tep said.
“I don’t want it.” Thelus said.
“You can eat your food here.” Tep said. “Instead of at the stone fence. You pluck a fig from the same tree and put it in your food.”
“I don’t want it.” Thelus said. What he wanted was the for the day to start again so it would be like every other day - a normal day. They lived in Apeontesde, a village of three hamlets. The highest hamlet was the Vima, perched on a top of a a rocky cliff with a spring flowing from its central fissure. Mesis was the middle and largest hamlet which Thelus and Tep lived in. The lowest hamlet was Katou which met the Marathon Plain and was the closest to the two marshes which bled into the Aegean Sea. Cyclops built the village and was only right that they had an altar and daily offerings.
“You stood on the altar and took the fish head.” Thelus said, steeling his voice to scare Telepinus away, “Arkodes the cyclops will escape the marsh and eat your friends.”
Apeontesde was located on the southern slope of Mount Agrieliki facing toward the island of Euboea. Westward, behind the mountain, was Athens and her ancient goddess who watched over this part of Greece. The highest hamlet in Apeontesde was the home of the ruling family of the village. Thelus had smelt the feasts they held when dignataries from Athens arrived, not that he was ever invited.
Telepinus would not be invited either. The child was odd.
“Don’t follow me.” Thelus said. He looked over his shoulder, the child was following.