Tony Thistlewood

Demeter’s Dream


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no idea who was the father of her child.

      ‘Why wouldn’t he be?’ Peta replied crossly. She resented invasions of her privacy, especially by hypocritical men.

      ‘No special reason. Look, Peta, I invited you here so we can talk informally and openly without fear of interruption. This business with Paul Dias has chucked a sizable monkey wrench into our plans,’ Posey said.

      ‘It sure has,’ Peta said with feeling. ‘You’ve known Paul a long time, Mr. President. What is he like when he is not being a politician, that is?’ she asked.

      ‘Yeah, we go way back; Paul is like a younger brother to me. Well, in a nutshell, he was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts but the family moved to England, UK, when Paul was very young. Both his parents became professors at Oxford University. They only returned to Massachusetts because Paul wanted to attend Harvard, which he did but later ended up at Princeton, as you know...'

      'Why the switch?'

      'He and his wife, Ann, virtually grew up together as kids. Ann was not accepted by Harvard but got into Princeton. He followed her, and the rest, as they say, is history. Anyway, he is ultra-bright and passed his degree summa cum laude.’

      ‘I see…’ Peta began.

      ‘I thought you knew him at Princeton?’ Posey interrupted.

      ‘Briefly,’ she said, but her body language, a nervous inspection of her finger nails, gave her away.

      ‘And you also passed summa cum laude, of course,’ Posey said.

      Peta acknowledged the compliment with a slight bow of her pretty head. A strand of dark hair fell over her eyes; she pushed it back behind her ear.

      ‘I know you and Paul are now…very close…’

      ‘Paul is a happily married man, Mr. President,’ Peta snapped, annoyed at the insinuation.

      ‘I know. I know. Nevertheless, you have been closely involved with him on Operation Olympus for many moons. We must not let the momentum stall now. If Paul cannot continue, you are the obvious person to pick up the reins. I want you to prepare yourself to take over from Paul and make the presentation to the Cabinet should the unthinkable happen. Will you do that for me?’ he asked, placing his hand on her knee as he was speaking.

      ‘Sure, if you really want me to, although Ann Dias would do a better job than me. They have been talking about this stuff since High School. In any case, it won’t be necessary; Paul Dias is immortal,’ Peta replied with more confidence than she felt.

      ‘Let us pray you are right. However, Ann Dias is not a member of the Cabinet…’

      ‘Does that matter?’ Peta asked.

      ‘Perhaps not, but I would rather keep things close. Now tell me what you know about Eve Até?’ Posey asked.

      ‘What?’ Peta exclaimed, suddenly on edge.

      ‘In the Cabinet meeting, you were quick to point the finger at Eve Até as a possible source of the leak if, indeed, there was a leak. I assume you must have had a strong reason for doing so?’ Posey asked.

      ‘Yeah, I do,’ Peta said, and then hesitated as if unsure how much she should tell him. ‘Eve used to work for Paul Dias. She is a devastatingly attractive woman, as you know, and clever with it. Early on, she made no secret of the fact that she intended to sleep her way to the top. She sees men as easy prey, putty in her hands, and she can get them to do anything she wants. She picked the wrong man in Paul Dias; he fired her.’

      Posey suddenly changed the subject: ‘Do you think that Paul Dias wants to be President?’ he asked although he didn’t sound at all concerned by the prospect.

      ‘I’d be surprised if he didn’t,’ Peta replied.

      ‘Did Paul get Eve Até the job with Jake Jefferson?’ Posey continued.

      ‘Hell, no! Paul was devastated when he discovered that she was in the White House. But she picked the wrong man again. She thought that Haden Ploutonos would make president before you. I imagine that he got her the job. I suspect it’s only a matter of time before she casts her net at you,’ Peta said.

      Posey turned away from her, so she couldn’t see him blush.

      And she removed his hand from her knee.

      Chapter 4

      ...Thou shalt not commit adultery...whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.

      Matthew 5:27-28

      Priapus is one of the most revolting specimens that you could possibly imagine. He is a wizened gnome of a creature – I find it distasteful to call him a god, however minor. His appearance makes me want to look elsewhere, anywhere, other than at him. He has swarthy skin, a full dark beard under a hooked nose, while the hair on his head spikes up like a series of uneven, multi-colored corkscrews.

      And yet here he was lounging brazenly in front of me, Zeus, god of gods. Priapus’s toga, for want of a better name, was so loosely draped around his puny body that his enormous and permanently erect penis, for which he was infamous, was inadequately concealed. There is a similar condition in the mortal world called “Priapism” named after him. I shuddered in disgust at the very sight of this so-called god. And I was even more nauseated by the thought that my daughter wanted to be anywhere near this creature. I was so disappointed in her.

      Demeter rushed to me as soon as I and KK arrived at Priapus’s apartment – I wondered who had given him permission to use it. I held her tightly in my arms. The smell of her hair, the feel of her body pressed against mine, momentarily drove thoughts of the disreputable gnome from my head.

      Then across the room, I saw Persephone lying seductively on a Turkish divan. She is every bit as beautiful and alluring as her mother, and I love her every bit as much.

      Perse must have realized, from my expression I assumed, the disappointment that I felt at her choice of companion.

      ‘What?’ she said, holding her arms wide like a teenager trying to play the innocent.

      ‘What have you been doing?’ I asked.

      ‘Nothing! Just talking,’ she replied sulkily.

      I so wanted to believe her.

      I tapped KK on his muzzle. He trotted over to Persephone who patted him on his head. He sniffed, returned to me, gave a little grunt, and again settled at my feet. His grunt told me that he had sniffed the truth or, at least, had not sniffed a lie.

      ‘So, you don't trust me,’ Perse said petulantly.

      ‘It's not you that I don't trust,’ I replied, glaring a Priapus.

      ‘Well, if it's not her, then it must be me,’ Priapus said in a surprisingly deep voice. ‘I suppose I should be mortified, but, alas, I am not. Many are saying that the great Zeus has been away in the mortal world for far too long, and I'm afraid I have to agree.’

      ‘What are you doing here, Priapus?’ I asked, ignoring the snide remark while trying to remain calm. ‘You were banished from Olympus long ago, and made impotent at that time, too, I believe.’

      I thought the last barb would get to him, but I was not prepared for his reply.

      ‘Indeed, I was, and by the goddess Hera, no less. You will remember her, of course? Yes, naturally you do. However – and you will not like this – she has pardoned me and invited me to return to Olympus. Of course, you have been away in the mortal world so long that you wouldn't have heard about that, would you?’

      ‘Hera invited you to return?’ Demeter asked, clearly amazed. ‘She would not do that lightly. What were her terms?’

      ‘Well, now, that is for me to know, and you to find out,’ he replied, openly leering at Demeter as if he intended her to be his next conquest. The wretched little