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“We’re not having this conversation again, Em,” Alison mutters as she leads her younger sibling into the Apollo cabin.
“All I’m saying is that it couldn’t hurt to try,” the 14-year-old replied.
“If you want someone to pray with you, you can ask Alex, you know he loves ‘talking’,” she says with air-quotes, “to Apollo with you.”
“I know, but I want you to.”
“And I,” Alison says as she turns and sits down on her lower bunk bed, “don’t want to. It’s that simple.”
“Why not?” Emilee asks, leaning against the bedpost.
Alison rolls her eyes, “You know why not.”
“Okay, yeah, but you know that you shouldn’t be holding grudges.”
“I don’t think it’s a grudge to be justifiably angry about your own abandonment, Emilee.”
Emilee frowns, “I just don’t think it’s fair to assume that.”
“This is why I didn’t want to talk about this. You keep trying to convince me that our father is actually kind and loving and attentive despite the fact that there isn’t a shred of evidence to make me believe that.”
“That doesn’t make me wrong.”
“Yes, it does. Has Apollo ever, ever, responded to you?”
“Not directly, no, but-”
“I’m not talking about vague signs like a bird singing or a sunbeam, and you know that. I mean an actual direct response.”
Emilee sighs, “No, but that’s just not how the gods work.”
“Well, maybe if they worked in a way that proved they gave a damn, then I’d give him the time of day. But as of right now, I’m giving him the same energy he’s giving me. That seems pretty fair to me.”
“...Just one time. I’ll drop it completely if you pray with me one time.”
Alison groans and lies back on her mattress, “No, I’m not doing that!”
“Please!”
“Oh my gods, why do you care so much about this?”
“I feel like, if he knows his children care about him, maybe he’ll-”
“Be a good dad? Visit us?” Alison jokes until she looks and sees Emilee’s expression of embarrassment. She sits back up and leans forward with her elbows on her knees. “It’s not going to happen, no matter what we do, Em. If he’s going to change, he has to want to change. And that would mean he thought there was anything wrong with how he treats us. But he doesn’t, because he’s a god. And the gods don’t care to notice us unless we do something that will bring them more glory. It’s not fair, and I hate it, but that’s the way things are.”
Emilee’s quiet now, not sure what to say because, even if they disagree, they know there’s no actually arguing with Alison. At least, there’s no winning an argument with Alison. She’s so stubborn and certain of the accuracy of her worldview that nothing could change it. “Alright, fine,” she grumbles, “but I still think you should try.”
“I’m not going to, but you knock yourself out.”
“I will,” Emilee says firmly as they make their way over to their own bunk bed, across from Alison’s, and sit down. They shift so their legs are crossed and their back is to Alison, who has started to busy herself by repairing some of her busted arrows.
In the silence, Emily starts to pay in her usual way, Hi dad. I hope you’re doing well. I really think Alison could use a little support. I’m giving her all I can, but it doesn’t seem like I’m helping that much. She’s still angry, and bitter, and sad, even if she won’t admit to that last one. Maybe you’re scared of her lashing out at you, or maybe you just don’t realize how much you’ve hurt her. Either way, I think if you gave her some grace and offered some help, she’d come around to appreciating it. All she wants is to be loved, and I think you’re pretty good at that. Anyway, I’m doing well and I love you, bye!
When she relaxes, she hears Alison ask, “What’d you even say?”
Turning back around and dangling her legs off the edge of the bed, Emilee lies, “Just told him about the week and that my dad says hi. Same old, same old.”
Alison nods, having no reason to doubt them. “I hope he heard you,” she says in all earnest. As much as Alison can’t stand their godly parent, Emilee knows that she won’t completely stomp on their idealistic views of Apollo.
Sometimes, Emilee does consider Alison’s point of view. And sometimes, that leads her to ask Apollo for signs that he’s listening. They’ve gotten the occasional birdsong, but nothing substantial. Not that they’d admit that to Alison. While they still believe that Apollo cares, they do wish he cared enough to show up for them in notable ways. Just enough to put to rest this ever-present debate between them and their sister. They’re almost as tired of it as Alison is, but they just can’t let it go.
It’s because of Apollo that Alison and her other siblings are in her life, so even if he’s not around, she’ll always be grateful for him.