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“TAG, YOU’RE IT!” a child screeched victoriously, before rushing away through the swings, jostling Percy as he glared down at the blue ice cream that was melting steadily down his hand. It was a hot, humid summer day in Manhattan and eight-year old Percy Jackson was hiding. Not that anyone would go looking for him; his mother was at work for another three hours and while she had told him firmly to stay inside, the heatwave made wandering around too dangerous, he couldn’t stand being around Smelly Gabe for another minute. The ice cream, he explained to himself pragmatically, was how he’d keep cool. It had also been bought with cash he’d stolen from right under Smelly Gabe’s smelly nose and he relished the slick feel of vengeance that had given him.
Experimentally, he took another lick of the ice cream, swirling the cold around his mouth.
“You’re so weird. What are you?” he murmured to his cone, lips smacking. He tried it again, this time taking a bite, enjoying the satisfying chill. “You’re definitely not blue raspberry. Or blueberries.” Another lick.”Maybe…cotton candy? Marshmallow?” Another scream came from behind him and soon a different kid came barreling past him, nearly bumping the cone right out of Percy’s hand.
“Hey!” he yelled, righting his ice cream, before whirling around. “Could you two — oh.”
Standing directly behind him was a girl, reaching for a frisbee on the ground in front of her. Her blond hair was a wild mess, curling around her sweaty face and she was gazing back at him, head tilted in curiosity.
“Were you just talking to your ice cream cone?” Percy blinked in confusion as he tried his best not to blush.
“Of course not.” The girl quirked an eyebrow.
“Yes, you were.”
“No, I wasn't.” She folded her arms.
“Then who were you speaking to?” Percy did his best to brush away a flicker of annoyance as he stood and turned around to face her fully, the swing bobbing between them.
“Don’t you have to throw that back at someone?” he asked, jerking his chin towards the frisbee. With an impressive eye roll, the girl bent down to snatch it up.
“Sorry for bothering you,” she replied, sounding very much not sorry. “I just wasn't sure if you were asking me if I was a marshmallow or not. I’m not, by the way.” She smiled then, tucking the frisbee into a rather ratty pink backpack that Percy had only just noticed had been hanging off her arm. In the brief moment it took for her to put the toy away, Percy thought he caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a large bronze knife amongst a bunch of other items; toothpaste, a sweater, beef jerky. Normal things, but very strange for a girl to be carrying around in a park. In the blink of an eye, the girl zipped her bag up tightly and before Percy could say anything, she cut him off with, “I’m more of a lemon drop.”
He scrunched up his nose in response. “Gross.” Gingerly, he lifted the ice cream back to his mouth. It had already made a sizeable puddle on the swing in front of him, shimmery blue against the rough black. Swallowing, he shook his head, puzzled.
“I was trying to figure out what this flavor is,” he said to the girl, who was still standing in front of him. “It doesn’t taste like other blues.”
“Oh!” the girl said, eyes alight with sudden interest. “Is it Blue Moon?” Percy nodded, attempting to eat his ice cream in earnest before it melted completely. Also, he was very warm and could feel his shirt sticking to the back of his neck. He needed to cool down.
“I dwon’t know— what dat— mweans,” Percy said, mouth full. “Isn’t the mwoon just a—” Before he could finish, the girl’s eyes widened and then she was grabbing his other arm, pulling him forward.
“Look out!” Another scream — those dumb kids again! — but this time instead of merely bumping into him, Percy found himself being flung sideways, his body scraping painfully across the chains of the swing next to him, his hands flung out in front just in time to catch his fall in the hot, grimy sand. His right hand, which had let go of his cone, was now covered in a sticky mess of melted goo and grit and as he tried to get up; the swing swung forward, knocking into the back of his neck. Yelling, the girl began to desperately grab at his hands, pulling him up. Clumsily, doing his best to dodge the swing, Percy got to his feet — but the girl wouldn’t let go of him.
“Run!” she yelled, “We need to run !”
Instinctively, Percy let himself be pulled along with her. Heart racing, mind whirling, Percy glanced back. The two kids who had been playing tag were inexplicably racing toward them— him? The girl? He wasn’t sure, but the look in their eyes caused a chill to rundown Percy’s overheated skin. They looked…hungry. Turning away, Percy pushed himself faster, doing his best to keep pace with the girl.
“Who are they?” he puffed as they rounded a large oak tree, startling a hound that had been in the middle of doing some business. “Do you know them?” The girl shook her head and dove head first into a large group of people, whom seemed to be enjoying the music of a brass quartet. With frightening speed, she dragged them across the park, winding through trees, skipping over flowers, eyes constantly searching. Percy wasn’t sure if she had any clue where she was headed, but each turn seemed deliberate, every switchback intentional. Finally, the girl slowed to stop next to a statue of a large horse, its rider glaring rather menacingly down at them.
“I don’t— see where…” she trailed off for a second, eyes scanning the crowd. It seemed like they had temporarily lost the kids, but Percy wasn’t confident they’d stay hidden for long. “Which way— is— Hawthorne Street?” she asked, breath coming in huffs and puffs, nodding towards a stack of signs a couple of paces away.
“Ummm.” Percy stalled as he did his best to focus on the letters, willing them to stand still and cooperate. Hawthorne was the street on the other end of the park, directly opposite of Percy’s street. Swallowing, he looked around wildly, attempting to orient himself. The girl’s eyes narrowed.
“What’s the sign say? Can’t— can’t you read it?”
“Of course I can read it,” Percy lied, doing his best to ignore the slither of shame. Her eyes narrowed further. “It says it’s this way.” Picking a path at random, Percy proceeded to march off as confidently as possible. Sighing, the girl followed him.
“Did they want something from your backpack?” Percy asked after a minute, keeping his pace to a brisk walk, the memory of her bronze knife glittering back at him. The girl was very much still on edge, eyes glancing nervously around them. He couldn’t fully relax either, shoulders still tense, legs still poised to sprint.
“Not in my backpack,” she murmured through gritted teeth. Percy’s brow crinkled and as he tried to think of what to say next, he noticed a familiar looking statue of a woman holding a spear in one hand and what appeared to be an angel in the other. Exhaling a small sigh of relief, he guided them to the path on the left of the statue. At least he finally knew where they were.
They continued on in a tense sort of silence, the exuberant sounds of a Manhattan park twisting around them. Percy’s throat felt dry and his head started to ache. Sadly, he wondered if he should go back to his apartment just to lie down.
The two of them were rounding a final corner, less than 50 feet away from the large fountain that heralded the park’s entrance of Hawthorne street when the girl inhaled sharply. Stopping abruptly, she pointed at a pair of children who were joyfully chasing each other across a yard of open grass to their left.
“That’s them,” the girl whispered. “But I'm not sure if they know we’re here.” While the park was busy, the path bustling with people, the lawn itself was fairly empty, its lack of shade making it unpopular in the high heat.
“We’re almost there,” Percy whispered back, eyes glued to the running children. From where they were, they seemed so normal, so happy, just a couple of kids being rambunctious on a summer day. “Let’s keep walking.” With determined casualness, they began to stroll towards the gate. Percy could feel his heart thrashing wildly in his chest and his palms felt slick with sweat.
Only 40 more feet.
The girl shifted her shoulders, hands tense around the straps. Percy wondered if maybe she should have pulled out her knife, but then stopped himself. They were just kids— not very nice kids, definitely bullies. Percy dealt with bullies all the time at school and while he absolutely did not like them, pulling an actual weapon on them seemed very wrong.
Although these particular kids did seem different. Scarier, though Percy couldn’t articulate exactly why.
30 more feet.
“I wish I could just…be invisible sometimes, you know?” the girl suddenly declared in a wistful voice. “This would be so much easier if I could just sneak away.”
“Being invisible would be cool,” he agreed, his mind shifting towards moments in different parks, on different playgrounds when he’d done his best to creep past the mean kids unnoticed. He’d never been successful and always dreaded the sing-songy call of ‘ Oh, Percyyyyyy’ when he’d been spotted. At the thought, he started, turning to the girl next to him. “Hey, I’m Percy, by the way.”
“Oh.” She looked back at him, but before she could say anything, Percy caught sight of the kids racing toward them. They were fast, terrifyingly fast, and deep down in his gut, Percy knew they wouldn’t be able to outrun them this time. They were only about 15 feet away from the gate, right in front of the gigantic fountain. It was gurgling water, its penny-littered bottom winking coyly at them in the sunlight, almost beckoning him forth in the debilitating heat.
Percy didn’t think, didn’t hesitate, as he grabbed the girl’s shoulders and practically threw her into the water. He followed suit, jumping in right after her. She was sputtering, eyes blinking furiously. “Wha—what are you—?!” Percy ignored her.
“Put your head down! Hold your breath, put your head down!” Praying she’d listen, he shoved his head below the surface. Don’t see us , he thought fervently, don’t see us, just run right by .
In the corner of Percy’s mind, he knew this was a ridiculous plan. They probably just should have run, should have sprinted right through the park gates and onto the bustling Manhattan streets. Don’t see us , he thought again, harder, his chest filled with wild hope. Don’t see us .
Percy didn’t move until he felt a hand pushing against his shoulder. When he surfaced, the girl’s large blue eyes were giving him the oddest look.
“Are they gone?” Percy asked, looking around. He was greeted with a variety of strange looks and concerned glances, but he didn’t see any sign of those kids. Heaving an exhale, Percy hopped out of the fountain, leveling the girl with a grin.
“Tricked ‘em.” She was still gazing at him with the most perplexed look on her face when an older girl marched right up to the fountain.
“There you are!” the older girl reached out a hand to pull the younger one out. She scanned the crowd with a grim sort of expression, eyes snagging to a halt when they landed on Percy. This must be…her sister? “Luke’s got a taxi waiting — we need to leave. Now.” Though she was still staring at Percy, the words were clearly meant for her younger sister, who nodded and quickly set off towards the gate.
Percy followed after them, then immediately wondered why he felt inclined to do so. He wasn’t going with them— he didn’t even know them. Disorientation washed over him as he saw a tall boy with bright red hair wave enthusiastically at the girls.
“Get in!” he called, as he ran around the front of the car to take the passenger seat. The girl’s sister opened the car door, shuffling across to the other side. Percy had halted in the middle of the sidewalk, still unsure of why he was there to begin with.
“Nice meeting you!” he yelled and the girl turned back towards him, halfway into the taxi. Her eyes were still tense.
“Thanks for the help!” She got into the car and at the slam of the door, Percy exhaled heavily and turned in the opposite direction to walk down the street. He’d take the long way around the park to get back to his apartment.
“Actually — wait!” Percy turned around to see the girl had opened her car door again and this time, she was smiling.
“It’s summer.” He stared at her blankly, unsure of what on earth she meant. “Blue Moon,” she clarified. “You’re ice cream flavor. It tastes like summer.” Before he could say anything in reply, she slammed the door shut a second time and the taxi was rumbling away, racing through the New York streets.
Shaking his head, Percy turned back, beginning the long journey home.
“Summer,” he muttered to himself. “How weird.”