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Odysseus stumbled out of the cave, barely able to see what was right in front of him.
“Captain,” Eurylochus started, reaching for Odysseus’ arm.
Odysseus veered away and began to make his way up the gangplank.
“What did the prophet say?”
“To Ithaca, Captain?”
“Are we finally going home?”
“Everyone quiet,” Odysseus snapped. “I need to think.”
The crew was silent as their captain collapsed on the bow of the ship.
Normally, Odysseus would reach out to Athena but the goddess had been true to her farewell. He breathed in the stale air of the River Styx and felt the fabric of his cloak ripple across his arms. Penelope had weaved it as a wedding gift for him. Penelope. The love of his life. He’d never see her again.
I see a man who gets to make it home, but it’s no longer you, Penelope whispered.
Odysseus’ heart spiked at the sound of her voice. No, no. You can’t be gone too. The image Tiresias conjured flashed in his head, a dark shadow of a man hovering behind Penelope. He frantically searched the souls floating passed, but didn’t find her face. Her face.
He could barely remember what she looked like. He could see her clay curls, her brown eyes, the freckle on her top lip, but his mind couldn’t figure out how they fit together.
It’s no longer you. The words repeated in his head with her voice.
Odysseus inhaled and closed his eyes. He pictured her next to her loom, weaving her own world and her expression lost thought.
Suddenly his mental picture of her turned to face him. Her smile was soft as she extended a delicate olive arm to him.
He tried to focus on her smile but couldn’t get her face to stop fading in and out.
“Come with me, love,” she said.
He ran into her arms, collapsing before her and resting his head in her lap. His arms clung to her waist as he sobbed.
“What keeps you awake, my love,” Penelope soothed, stroking his hair.
It must be much thinner than the last time she ran her hands through the waves.
“All I can hear is screams. I can’t keep doing this. Everything’s gone so wrong,” Odysseus gasped through his tears.
“You must come home. We’re all waiting for you. I’m waiting,” Penelope said.
“My Penelope would move on to protect Telemachus,” Odysseus replied. He had made her promise to do whatever it took for her and Telemachus to stay safe.
“I’m not your Penelope anymore. That girl couldn’t have held to your promise,” Penelope said, bitterly.
“What did you have to do?” Odysseus asked, looking up at her.
She caressed the sides of his face, brown eyes pouring into his. She tried to contain her sadness when she said, “It doesn’t matter. What will you do, Odysseus?”
“The prophet says it is hopeless.”
“Did he?”
“What are you talking about?” Odysseus asked.
“I see a man who gets to make it home alive, but it’s no longer you,” Penelope repeated.
“Why do you-”
It finally clicked and Penelope could see it. “I’ll meet you again when you are home.”
Odysseus opened his eyes.
“Captain, what do we do?” Eurylochus asked.
“We’re getting home, no matter the cost,” Odysseus growled, not looking at his second in command.
“Sir-”
“Cast off, Eurylochus!” Odysseus shouted.
Eurylochus curtly nodded and began instructing the crew.
Odysseus closed his eyes and pictured Penelope standing with Telemachus, who would be eleven.
I’ll make it home to you. Even if I become the monster.