“Mom, I see light over there. Is there a home in a remote place like this?”
“Is there a light? Aren’t your eyes just dazzled by fairy lights, Marche? This mother doesn’t see anything.”
“I see real lights. I don’t know if people live there. I’d like to ask them if we can stay overnight. You never know when a monster would jump on us and make dinner of us if we stay homeless in the mountains, mother.”
“I’m more afraid of people than a bunch of monsters, sweetheart.”
The old woman stopped talking and coughed.
Cough, cough.
It was a rough cough that made her thin back seem about to collapse.
“Did blood come out again?”
The son stopped and lowered the old woman to look at her. The old woman, who sat on the soft soil that Dionysus turned upside down, blinked painfully.
“Don’t worry about me, leave me behind, and go back quickly. Marche, I’m dead anyway. The townspeople who didn’t want to catch my lung disease kicked us out like this.”
“Mother, who’s going to die?” said her son, who currently seemed to be as old as she was, in a choked voice swallowing tears. “Get on my back again, Mother. Let’s go to that house and sleep for one night and then go look for it again. People say that there is a spring in this mountain that treats the sick. Any illness will heal with just one sip.”
“That’s the bullshit that the bluffers spilled because they saw Dionysus’ fairies. There are only rugged mountains, hungry beasts, and the raging waters of the river around here.”
The old woman lay on the floor dispirited.
“No, there’s a house over there. I’m sure people will be living in it because the fire’s so bright. Living here, I’m sure they would know the geography of this place. We can ask them for directions. Are you sure that’s bullshit?”
“Marche…”
The son hugged his mother lightly. The old woman held her son by the shoulders with her slender arms. The two relied on the whistle to walk one step at a time. They could never dream that the temple of Dionysus was right in front of them.
“Is there a town near here?” Eutostea asked Moussa.
After a moment’s thought, she said, “I think I saw a man at the foot of the mountain five hundred years ago. But it was a long time ago. I don’t know, Miss Eutostea.”
“Maybe the spring water they’re talking about is the Pactolus River. It wasn’t this big a long time ago. The river god was a child, too.”
“He was a very cute baby boy.”
Eutostea shook her head and tried to reflect the young boy’s image on the river god, although it was difficult to substitute the current image she had of him.
“Miss Eutostea, they’re almost at the temple.”
“Don’t scare them, let’s watch.”
They kept hiding in the woods and listened to the conversation of the mother and son pair who were overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of the temple.
“Mother, this is a temple.”
“Marche, would you describe the surroundings so I can know?”
The old woman looked around with her head, blinking her whole cataract of white eyes. It wasn’t that she didn’t see the light; it was that she didn’t see at all. Her eyes did not register her son’s close-up face. She was blind and had a lung disease that made her spit out blood, so she was ashamed in front of her son, who lived the life of a widower. The old woman climbed down from her son’s back. She lay flat on the floor at the temple’s door. This mountain range was known as the territory of Dionysus.
“Mother, the roof of the temple, which is covered with white marble, is being held by a tree vine. It’s a grapevine. It also got fruits on it.”
“And?”
“I see a flaming brass bowl. The firewood is piled up. There must be someone who takes care of it. Mother, there’s a pond in the temple. An altar is in there, too. There are stepping-stones to cross over the pond.”
“It smells sweet.”
“I think it smells like alcohol. Mother, is this perhaps…”
“I think it’s a temple that serves Lord Dionysus, Marche.”
The two stood still at the entrance of the assembly hall, clasping their hands on the wooden pillars. They hadn’t money or anything to offer to a god. Is it okay for them to go in? The old woman hesitated, and her son glanced at the pond.
“Mom, I see light over there. Is there a home in a remote place like this?”
“Is there a light? Aren’t your eyes just dazzled by fairy lights, Marche? This mother doesn’t see anything.”
“I see real lights. I don’t know if people live there. I’d like to ask them if we can stay overnight. You never know when a monster would jump on us and make dinner of us if we stay homeless in the mountains, mother.”
“I’m more afraid of people than a bunch of monsters, sweetheart.”
The old woman stopped talking and coughed.
Cough, cough.
It was a rough cough that made her thin back seem about to collapse.
“Did blood come out again?”
The son stopped and lowered the old woman to look at her. The old woman, who sat on the soft soil that Dionysus turned upside down, blinked painfully.
“Don’t worry about me, leave me behind, and go back quickly. Marche, I’m dead anyway. The townspeople who didn’t want to catch my lung disease kicked us out like this.”
“Mother, who’s going to die?” said her son, who currently seemed to be as old as she was, in a choked voice swallowing tears. “Get on my back again, Mother. Let’s go to that house and sleep for one night and then go look for it again. People say that there is a spring in this mountain that treats the sick. Any illness will heal with just one sip.”
“That’s the bullshit that the bluffers spilled because they saw Dionysus’ fairies. There are only rugged mountains, hungry beasts, and the raging waters of the river around here.”
The old woman lay on the floor dispirited.
“No, there’s a house over there. I’m sure people will be living in it because the fire’s so bright. Living here, I’m sure they would know the geography of this place. We can ask them for directions. Are you sure that’s bullshit?”
“Marche…”
The son hugged his mother lightly. The old woman held her son by the shoulders with her slender arms. The two relied on the whistle to walk one step at a time. They could never dream that the temple of Dionysus was right in front of them.
“Is there a town near here?” Eutostea asked Moussa.
After a moment’s thought, she said, “I think I saw a man at the foot of the mountain five hundred years ago. But it was a long time ago. I don’t know, Miss Eutostea.”
“Maybe the spring water they’re talking about is the Pactolus River. It wasn’t this big a long time ago. The river god was a child, too.”
“He was a very cute baby boy.”
Eutostea shook her head and tried to reflect the young boy’s image on the river god, although it was difficult to substitute the current image she had of him.
“Miss Eutostea, they’re almost at the temple.”
“Don’t scare them, let’s watch.”
They kept hiding in the woods and listened to the conversation of the mother and son pair who were overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of the temple.
“Mother, this is a temple.”
“Marche, would you describe the surroundings so I can know?”
The old woman looked around with her head, blinking her whole cataract of white eyes. It wasn’t that she didn’t see the light; it was that she didn’t see at all. Her eyes did not register her son’s close-up face. She was blind and had a lung disease that made her spit out blood, so she was ashamed in front of her son, who lived the life of a widower. The old woman climbed down from her son’s back. She lay flat on the floor at the temple’s door. This mountain range was known as the territory of Dionysus.
“Mother, the roof of the temple, which is covered with white marble, is being held by a tree vine. It’s a grapevine. It also got fruits on it.”
“And?”
“I see a flaming brass bowl. The firewood is piled up. There must be someone who takes care of it. Mother, there’s a pond in the temple. An altar is in there, too. There are stepping-stones to cross over the pond.”
“It smells sweet.”
“I think it smells like alcohol. Mother, is this perhaps…”
“I think it’s a temple that serves Lord Dionysus, Marche.”
The two stood still at the entrance of the assembly hall, clasping their hands on the wooden pillars. They hadn’t money or anything to offer to a god. Is it okay for them to go in? The old woman hesitated, and her son glanced at the pond.
