16 comments/ 22900 views/ 14 favorites Jason and Zoe By: PostScriptor Copyright 2014 by PostScriptor, All Rights Reserved Jason cautiously walked up to the unadorned dark gray building where he had been instructed to meet his contact. He'd only received word of the possible rendezvous that very afternoon, and he had to hurry just to arrive on time. Jason was in his late twenties, still a young man, strong and able, and skilled at his trade. He was considered by women to be a fine looking man, his head covered with unruly curly black locks of hair and dark eyes that seemed to pierce right into the heart when he looked at you. He was well muscled, with a classic figure — narrow hips and thin waist leading upward to broad shoulders. His work kept him outdoors most days, resulting in a deeply tanned, wind blown skin. The only thing that marred his face were eyes that had seen too much and endured too much tragedy over the past two years. He was anxious. What he faced ahead this evening was uncertain, but he had no choice but to forge onward. As he turned a corner of the structure and approached the front door, he saw his man. Jason knew him by sight, but had only recently learned his name — Virgil, he remembered. Sort of an old-fashioned name. Not many 'Virgils' around these parts. Virgil saw him at the same moment. "Jason," he said by way of a greeting. "Virgil," he replied. They stood looking at each other for a time. "Do you think she will show up?" he asked. Virgil looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah, I think so. You know it took us quite a while to find her — I don't think she wanted to be found. But I suspect that she is reconciled to the fact that she is going to have to speak to you at some point." Jason just nodded. "Wait in there," Virgil said, tilting his head towards the door. As Jason started forward, Virgil looked at the package in Jason's hands. "That our payment?" he inquired politely, but firmly. His question took Jason by surprise for a brief second — he had forgotten that he was carrying the fee for setting up this meeting. "Oh. Sure. Here," he said, handing the package to Virgil. "Down the stairs to the lower room," Virgil informed him. Jason just nodded his head to show he'd heard. At that point Virgil opened the door and stood back to let Jason enter the room alone. "Good luck — I hope you find the answers that you are searching for," he murmured. The room that he entered had several open windows, and Jason saw empty chairs and tables around the edges of the floor, and a raised dais at the front. The walls in the room were as bland as the outside of the building, no paint nor decoration, just a dingy gray plaster finish. Not surprisingly, Jason found himself there alone at this time of the day. The stairs were off on the right side of the room, towards the back. Jason walked across and down the worn treads of the staircase. The lower room was completely closed and that afternoon only the light coming through the open staircase from the floor above illuminated it. Beyond fifteen or twenty feet into the deep room it was so dark that his eyes couldn't see any detail. He knew that his vision would adjust to the darkness in a couple of minutes. Jason saw a long bench seat where the little bit of light in the room ended and the darkness began. He had a hand full of flowers that he placed on the bench next to him — hoping that they might be regarded as a peace offering of sorts. He sat looking down at the floor reflecting on the past two years and his mind drifted. He heard the footsteps before he looked up. When he lifted his eyes, there she was, moving from the shadows towards the light — his wife. "Zoe?" he asked as the figure approached closer. "Jason," she replied. "Jason, you look so good, I can't even tell you. You're clearly doing well without me," came the whispered words, a statement rather than a question. Jason ignored her remark and looked at her. She seemed thin, gray and wan. There was no joy in her face. She was a shadow of the woman who had left him. She stood there, about ten feet away, not coming any closer, keeping her wronged husband at a distance. She finally broke the silence. "I see you brought lilies with you. For me?" "Of course — who else?" Jason replied with just the slightest hint of a smile. "Thank you. You were always thoughtful and finding ways to please me. Your kindness, though, is a rebuke to me now." "I didn't mean it to be. I just wanted you to remember better days between us," he replied gently. Zoe nodded in affirmation, followed by a sigh. "You wanted to speak to me?" she asked, and then in a flat voice stated, "I'm here now, so ask your questions." Jason nodded in reply, but it took an act of will to make his voice say the words. "Why, Zoe? Why? How could you leave me, our marriage, and our three children for that..." he almost choked, and couldn't actually say his name, "that strutting peacock, that mongrel dog, that miserable excuse of a man. I want an answer, not lies. I want the truth!" The voice that replied was firmer and louder now. "Jason, I don't think that I could ever lie to you, and what would be the point of lying now. What is done is done, and there is no going back or remaking the past." Zoe paused standing in silence her face looking at the floor. Finally she continued, "Greed, I think more than anything. Greed, and envy, pride and vanity — they all played their parts. I wanted things that you couldn't give me. I wanted excitement. I was tired of living hand-to-mouth. I was tired of your poor friends, and their low-class wives, and the burden of being a wife and mother all the time. "I wanted to keep my smooth hands and young looking skin. I wanted my beauty to last forever. I didn't want to look like my mother after a lifetime of work — a wrinkled old crone by the time she was forty." She paused and then spoke again. "I think that I was always like that, even as a child; I was selfish and self-obsessed as Narcissus. "I thought that I was entitled to be showered with riches; I would be one of the beautiful and glamorous people. I would rise above my earlier station to an elevated status. I would be the envy of every woman I met. "And when he tempted me with his promises, I fell into his trap and abandoned all of you — you, my children, my parents and sisters — without a second thought or a backwards glance. He was my path to freedom. At least what I foolishly believed was freedom." Jason looked into her face, his eyes asking the question. "Jason, you needn't even ask, I already know the question. No, it didn't work out that way for me. Far from it. I think you already knew the answer." She in turn couldn't stop herself from asking a question as well. "It didn't take you long to replace me, did it?" she whispered, her desperation and regret mixed with anger dripping from her every word. "What did you expect? I had three young children all under the age of five; I had to do something. I couldn't keep palming them off on your mother or my mother. I had to work. I had to support the family. "Elena was a godsend!" he declared. "My sister, Elena. I'm sure she was there to comfort you and offer her care and sympathy. Probably the day after I left," Zoe's words revealing an angry bitterness that Jason couldn't understand. After all, it was Zoe, not him, who had left and thrown away their life together. "She had always wanted you, Jason! She hungered for you since before she began to bleed, and she waited patiently like a vulture on a branch, watching for a moment of vulnerability and swooping in to feast on the carrion. Ah, but I forget — you're a man, unobservant and indifferent to the emotional undercurrents that surround you!" Jason kept his face still and didn't respond as he might have: in truth he had known of Elena's desire for him from the very beginning. But it hadn't mattered until the day when he returned to their home to find his mother sitting in his kitchen, watching their children and waiting for him. She looked frightened, as if she expected that Jason might do her harm. He stood there in silence unable to comprehend her fear. "Jason, it isn't our fault — please don't blame us!" she pled, tears running down her cheeks. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, his intensity making him seem angry. He could see her flinch at his words, trying to shrink into herself to escape from his sight. "Zoe came and fetched me to watch the children until you arrived home. Then she left with some man from the city. He was dressed in expensive clothes, and she told me that he is rich. "She told me to tell you not to trouble yourself by coming after her. She was leaving you to be with a man who could care for her in the manner that she wanted!" Jason took in her words and was frozen in place as his world crumbled around him. He sat in a chair and stared into space — for how long, he didn't know, but when he regained his senses, his mother had fled back to her house. He looked up to see his children waiting watching him. Jason realized that he couldn't sit in a stupor enveloped in self-pity; the children needed to be fed and cared for. He somehow dragged himself upright and began his new life, one without Zoe... Reflecting on the two sisters, Zoe and Elena, Jason could hardly fathom a more unlikely pair. Zoe was Aphrodite, with large firm breasts that jutted out from her torso like the prow of a ship, a small waist and full hips. She wore her blond hair long and loose, and her full lips held a promise of ecstasy that had caused men to fight over her from an early age. She was like the classic Helen — as the poet said, "Is this the face that launched a thousand ships? ...Sweet Helen make me immortal with a kiss!" If Zoe was vain it was not without cause. Elena was a stark contrast. If Zoe was Aphrodite, then Elena was Artemis, the huntress. She kept her dark hair short so that it wouldn't interfere with her daily activities. Her breasts were small and firm, akin to half-apples. She was tall and her shoulders wide for a woman, her hips narrow. She was lean and lithe, and graceful as a panther when she moved. Jason disagreed with Zoe: Elena was not a vulture; she was a raptor. But the two sister's emotional makeup was diametrically opposed to their outward appearances. Zoe who looked like the goddess of love was actually emotionally detached from the people around her and self-absorbed (Jason had to smile at the irony — Zoe had finally faced that truth about herself!) While Jason tried in every way possible to please Zoe, Jason's happiness was of little matter to her. Zoe could really only love Zoe, and Jason had long despaired at the asymmetry in their feelings toward each other. Elena, on the other hand, was filled with passion and desire; she wore her emotions on her shirtsleeve and didn't care who knew it. Elena couldn't keep her hands off Jason when they were together. In the privacy of their room at night nothing prepared Elena more for making love than simply touching and kissing Jason. When Jason reached out for her, his touch was electric. She told him as soon as she moved in with him and the children, "Jason, I am yours. You own my body and my soul. You are my center of the universe!" And she meant it. After Zoe abandoned her husband and family, Elena moved in to fill the vacuum and Jason's home life had in fact greatly improved. Elena loved him without condition, and she was a much better mother to his and Zoe's children than Zoe ever was. After two years, the children all called Elena 'Mother' and could hardly even remember Zoe. Alas for Jason, at some level he still loved Zoe. That was why he needed to speak with her, his hope to close the open wounds in his heart and justify his subsequent actions to himself. "Jason?" the voice called to his ears. Jason returned to the present with a start. "Oh, I'm sorry, I was just remembering." Zoe smiled a little half-smile, "I understand. That's all I do anymore — remember and regret." Jason needed to start the conversation again. Zoe might leave at any time, and there was still more to know. "You said that you left because of your greed — and I believe you as far as that goes," he explained, seeing an irritated look quickly cross her face. She might acknowledge her own flaws, but she wasn't happy when he agreed with her about them. Oh the Vanity! "But you haven't mentioned the reason that he most certainly wanted you: lust. I assume that you reciprocated his feelings." Her look of irritation was replaced by one of pain. She sighed, "Oh Jason, you men are all driven by your lust and your egos. Yes, of course he wanted me for my face and body, and yes I satisfied his lusts. But I was never driven by lust. "I'm sorry, but let me be clear: I enjoyed the love act with you more than with him — your sword is much larger and made of harder metal — but in truth I never looked at any man and found myself lusting for him physically. I might have lusted for his fortune or his possessions, but..." She laughed at her own frank assessment. "Jason, it's different for a woman. We aren't driven by the same desires as men." Jason would have liked to contradict her and let her know that Elena did lust after him, but he thought it more diplomatic to keep that to himself. "So how did your time with him end? What caused it to end so tragically?" Zoe started to quietly weep and after a time regained control. "I'm so ashamed Jason. It's too hard to tell you," she moaned. "Please, Zoe. I need to know, to be sure. To live with my own actions." She slowly nodded as she considered his plea. "Yes, I suppose. But please promise me that you will keep what I tell you to yourself. Allow me to retain some vestiges of my dignity and reputation," she explained. Jason thought to himself, "A little late to worry about your reputation!" But what he said aloud was, "Agreed!" "When he first brought me to his villa, I was treated like a princess — fine new clothes, parties at his friend's homes, attending the theater together. It was splendid. Of course, in exchange I 'performed' for him in the bed chamber." She snuck a quick look at Jason, and seeing that his face remained impassive to her sordid confession she went on. "I'm sorry Jason, but to keep him happy I did all of the things that I refused you; things that I claimed were too depraved, perverse and immoral. I guess my scruples flew out the window like a bird when they were competing with my avarice. "Once I gave in and allowed him to use my body as he wished, I found that what he wanted wasn't that distasteful, and I became accustomed to it rather quickly. But once he had gotten his way with me and something became part of our 'normal' play, then he would demand something new, something more extreme and usually more debasing to me. He even started bringing another man or woman home with him to join us." After that revelation she looked at Jason and saw the shock and horror on his face. She couldn't go on. "Do I need to go into all of the details?" He shook his head and she felt a great relief. He had heard about the practices that her lover engaged in from the whores around town, so the specifics weren't important. "As time went on, though, I was growing wary. We would have 'good times' together, but the relationship between us didn't seem to be going forward. Any talk of my becoming his wife had stopped, and if I tried to bring up making our arrangement more permanent, he would change the subject. I began to understand that I was nothing more to him than a play toy — a diversion to amused him and occupy his time until someone new and different came along. I began to fear that I would be tossed on the trash heap with nothing to show for my sacrifice. The ultimate irony — my greed leaving me worse off than I had been when I was poor!" Tears came to her eyes, and she wiped them from her cheeks. "That final night I was already close to despair. I had made a terrible mistake, and I couldn't see anyway to escape." "You could have come home to us, Zoe!" Jason interjected. "My pride wouldn't allow me to — it would be tantamount to admitting that l had been stupid and corrupt." Zoe paused again after that, and Jason thought he might have to prod her again, when she began speaking on her own. "The very night that I was going to give him an ultimatum, he told me to dress in my finest because he was going to have some friends over, and he wanted me to act as hostess. I had done that before, so I was not surprised. "He had a new gossamer gown sent to me that was a little more revealing and daring than any I had worn, but not so much that I was concerned." Jason rolled his eyes at her description. He had seen the sorts of clothing that the 'beautiful women' wore, and as far as he was concerned they were similar in purpose to what whores in back alleys wore, only made of better materials and cut to fit by a tailor. "The evening was going well. There were about a half-dozen of his closest 'pals' there, and they were doing their usual eating and drinking — more of an emphasis on drinking than eating — and boasting of their exploits. I had more than my usual share of drinks as well, in part because I was anxious to confront my lover and clarify my status. "It had gotten late and everyone was too drunk for their own good. The lights were low and the servants had gone to bed in the outbuildings. He stood up in the center of the room and asked everyone to stand gather round, which we did. It was clear he and his friends had planned this night in advance. "He pushed me into the middle of the group and with a smirk on his face began telling his friends about the perverted things that we had done together. Even as insensible as I was, I blushed and I couldn't look anyone in the face. I just stood there with my arms at my side, looking at the floor, trembling. "He told his friends to whisper what they were going to do to me into my ears, and they all came in close enough to put their mouths to my ears. Each of them took turns telling me what I was going to do for them. I was so frightened. And then they all started touching me. At first their hands were outside my gown, and then they started going under it. I tried to stop them, but they held on to my arms. I couldn't move as they were all gathered so close around me, and then I felt the tugging and pulling as my clothes were being ripped off right there in the room. "Soon I was completely naked, trembling and trying to cover myself with my hands, when my 'lover' (if you could still call him that) declared that 'we need to teach the fisherman's whore a lesson she won't forget!" "And then he let them have their way with me. One, two, three of them at a time. All of them, many times. They did horrible things to me, things that no human should do to another human. For the rest of the night they abused me, until they were all sated and finally fell exhausted into a drunken stupor. "When they were finally finished with me, I crawled to my room, bruised, beaten, and covered with filth. They were brutes and had acted according to their natures. "I think you know the end of the story." Jason nodded in agreement, "Yes, I'm afraid I do. Why didn't you just come home? Even then, I would not have rejected you. " Zoe shrugged her shoulders, knowing there was no answer, no way to express the depth of her despair that night. Zoe finally spoke again. "Jason, do you still love me?" There was a telling hesitation as he considered before he answered. "Yes, Zoe, I do, and I always will. I loved you beyond price, more than pearls or rubies, with all of my heart." Jason and Zoe "Can you forgive me?" "I've long since forgiven you, Zoe." "Then take me home with you. Let me hold my children again. Let me be your servant, your slave. I don't ask that you cast off Elena. Just let me have a small part of you — I will happily share you. And I will show you that I have repented my evil ways..." Jason sadly shook his head. "Zoe, you know that can never be, we cannot reverse time or our fate. I'm sorry, I truly am, but I am no Orpheus." Zoe began to weep again in earnest, and turned and slowly retreated to the inky darkness at the back of the deep room. Jason heard her steps fade as she walked away, but before she could leave, he called to her, "Zoe? Stop! I have one more question to ask." He heard her flat reply, "Ask." "Have you seen Pallas since that night?" he asked, sneering as he actually said her lover's name aloud. "No, my husband I have not. What are you saying?" she asked. Jason heard her steps coming back his direction and could see just a lightening of the shadows. "Wife, I cannot bring you back — but you are avenged." There was a brief flash as she comprehended the meaning of his words and her eyes opened wide enough to capture some small reflection of the light from the staircase, and a quick intake of breath. "Thank you, my husband, thank you. I will be ever grateful for your loyalty and devotion. I should have shown you the same. "Farewell my love, my one true love; farewell until we next meet!" And with that, Zoe walked into the darkness until her footstep faded from Jason's hearing. Once convinced that Zoe was indeed gone, Jason slowly stood up, and leaving the lilies on the bench as an offering to her memory, turned and walked back up the stairs and out into the summer dusk. He found Virgil patiently waiting on a bench. "Did you find the answers that you sought, Jason?" "Yes, and I thank you and your brother priests for bringing her to me. Virgil just nodded once before he turned away and walked to the priest's quarters beyond the temple. As Jason walked down the path away from the Temple of Hades, people who saw him emerge would raise their cloaks to cover their faces and would make gestures to ward off evil as if he were one of the dead and not a living man. Perhaps they were uncertain if he was a man or a shadow when they looked upon his grim visage. He walked down the narrow rocky trail from the top of the island cliffs down to the fisherman's village by the bay, past all of the boats beached for the night, with their nets spread out to dry. Usually Jason rejoiced in the sounds of the waves braking on the shore and of the sea breeze cooling his face and blowing his hair. But this evening he was preoccupied, and impervious to his surroundings. He passed by most of the fishermen's homes, until at the end of the bay he came to the simple house that had been his families' for generations. Before he had even arrived at his doorway, a figure burst out from the darkened interior, running into his arms. Elena's hands possessed him and her lips showered kisses on his face and neck. "Well?" she demanded. "It was as we thought, dearest Elena. Her foolish greed and high regard for her self-worth let her be seduced away from us. She fell prey to another man's lust and envy, and in the end was left with nothing but ashes and the grave." Jason and Elena looked at each other, each silently understanding what the other was remembering. They remembered the day, not so long before, when a cart arrived in the village loaded with a pallet, and upon the pallet covered with a dingy brown cloth was a body. The cart stopped in front of Jason's house. There was a servant and several slaves walking alongside the cart. The servant, an ancient woman, told them that she had been instructed by Pallas to return Zoe's body to her husband. Then the slaves picked up the pallet and carried it into the house, where at Elena's request, they placed it on the long table in the great room. The ancient woman's face revealed nothing — she was inured to death, having seen her own husband and three sons all precede her to the Underworld. But as she turned to leave she stepped to Jason and told him, "She died of poison at her own hand," and then she left. Tears fell from both Jason and Elena's eyes as they examined Zoe's body. When they pulled back the cover they realized that Pallas was so indifferent to Zoe that he hadn't even bothered to close her eyes with coins that would pay Charon the Ferryman to carry her across the Styx to Hades. They shared the horror and grief as they examined her body, finding bruises all over her, as well as bites on her breasts, buttocks and womanly organs. There were fluids and blood running out of all of Zoe's openings. Male fluids had dried in clumps in her hair and in many places on her body. Worst of all, though, was seeing her once beautiful features slack with death, her once bright and shining eyes dull and lifeless, her body nothing but an empty shell. Her psyche had fled. Whatever Zoe's flaws and failures, she had not deserved the brutal punishment that she had been dealt. Elena with her mother and Jason's mother together gently washed Zoe, and applied the finest rose scented oil to her skin that poor fisher folk could afford. Elena found one of Zoe's better gowns that she had left behind, and they dressed her in it. They covered her face and body with a new, clean burial cloth in part to show respect, but also to conceal Zoe's shame. The following day all of the fishermen of the village and their families followed weeping and wailing in the traditional funeral procession for Zoe, to comfort Jason and keep Zoe's spirit from tormenting them in their dreams. After Zoe's burial, Jason and Elena began to plan. Like the Furies, they would avenge Zoe's suicide — for in their eyes she had been driven to suicide and it was a murder as clearly as if Pallas had stabbed Zoe with his knife. Jason awoke from his reverie and looked at Elena. "Could you repeat what you said? I'm sorry, but..." "It's fine Jason. I just asked if you are sure now that you acted as the Gods would have willed it?" Jason pondered for just a moment before replying. "Yes. It was not murder I did; it was justice!" Elena nodded her agreement, having never doubted the justice of his actions. Zoe's flaws — greed, vanity, pride and envy — were like gnats compared to those of Pallas. He suffered from all of her flaws and more: lust, arrogance, gluttony and drunkenness among them. With his wealth and position in society, he saw himself as one of the masters of the universe — nearly a god. Oh the hubris! One night several months after Zoe's body had been interred and her soul fled to Hades, she was avenged. The moon was full and the fleet was out fishing, when on a secluded beach a solitary boat silently came to shore and a lone figure pulled it up and tied it off to keep the tide from lifting it away. Pallas and his friends, as was their habit, had spent the night in debauchery. By the time early in the morning when his Nemesis arrived, Pallas was so drunk that he was dead to the world. The lamps had long since burned out and only the moonlight illuminated the villa. No one stirred that night as Jason grabbed Pallas' unconscious body from their midst and threw him over his shoulder and silently crept out of the villa and back to his boat. Pallas was a 'warrior' and he and his comrades played with their swords and bows and thought of themselves as 'mighty' and 'invincible', but Jason, the lowly fisherman had strong arms and shoulders from hauling in heavy nets and rowing boats. They were warriors who had never fought a real battle, but every day Jason fought and won a battle with the sea. In a contest of strength and endurance, Jason would always triumph. When, even before the morning sun broke through the clouds and fog, Pallas awoke with a start, and found himself wrapped in a fishing net unable to move. His head pounded and his throat was parched. He was lying at the bottom of a fishing vessel sailing with a mild wind on a quiet sea. "Water! Water!" he croaked. Jason reached over the side of the boat and lifted a gourd of seawater and poured it on Pallas' face. Pallas choked and spat the briny liquid out. "What the ...? What am I doing here? Who are you? Do I know you?" sputtered the impotent Pallas from the bottom of the boat. "I am vengeance, you spawn of a pig," replied the figure sitting above him. "Wait, wait. I do know you! You are that fisherman who was Zoe's husband!" exclaimed Pallas with fear causing his voice to tremble. "What are you going to do to me?" he gasped. The smile that Jason wore did nothing to calm Pallas' fears. "Fear not — your time of pain and anguish will be much shorter than Zoe's." "Wait a minute! Hear me out! I have gold and silver. I can pay you in gems. All that I own I will pay you if you will just spare my life!" Pallas pleaded. Jason looked down and Pallas' pissed himself from fear. "Nothing you could pay me would bring Zoe back across the river Styx, and that would be the price of your life." "But, how can you blame me? Your wife was just a whore who ran off at the first sight of a couple of gold coins. You don't owe her anything!" Jason's face showed his repugnance for Pallas' argument as he replied, "I don't suppose that you have ever known the meaning of 'honor'. Or the meaning of 'love'. "Although Zoe was a fool to run after you like a bitch in heat, she was not a whore until you decided to make her one. And in the eyes of the Gods, she has already paid the ultimate price for her sins. You, on the other hand..." Pallas decided to try and change tack, "Listen you damn oaf. I'm an important man in the city. You won't get away with harming me. It will be better for you if you let me go right away. I'll just forget this ever happened, and we will call things even! "The woman was your problem — you just weren't man enough to keep her, and now you are blaming me. Anyway, I heard that you moved her sister in to take her place within a week! So it's not as if you were left without a woman!" Jason wasn't paying attention to the begging and pleading, or the threats from his unwilling passenger. He was looking over the side at the sea, examining the color of the surface and periodically looking back at the distant island gauging their location. Finally, he dropped the sail and the boat drifted to a halt. They were in deep water now. As Pallas watched, Jason tied stone weights to the net that kept him trapped. It took him only seconds to understand the implication of the stones. "HELP! HELP ME! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME! THIS MAD MAN IS GOING TO KILL ME!" he shouted, now in a complete panic. "Oh please!" interrupted Jason, "Enough noise. There is no one around us for miles. There is no one to hear you shout. Just you, me and Poseidon, and to tell you the truth, I don't think Poseidon likes you very much. Come to think of it, neither do I." Jason lifted the stones up and over the sides of the boat where the short tethers connecting them to the net started to lift Pallas up and over the side as well. He struggled, but it was of little use as he was dragged by the weight of the stones as well as Jason lifting his body up the side. When Pallas was close enough to going overboard, Jason showed him his filleting knife, and with a quick movement through the net, Jason sliced open Pallas' belly. Pallas' eyes grew large with the shock and pain of the cut, while Jason explained: "Opening your belly will keep your rotting corpse from floating back to the surface. Suffer forever in Hades for your sins!" And with that, Jason pushed Pallas over the rest of the way, where the weight of the stones pulled him down into the clear waters. And Jason watched as the bubbles of Pallas' last lungful of air escaped and a cloud of blood rose and Pallas disappeared into the void below. The gods must have looked on Jason with favor that morning, because after he rejoined the other boats of the fishing fleet, every time he threw his net into the sea it would fill up as if the fish were waiting to jump in. By the time the boats returned to the village, Jason's catch was as great as any of the men who had spent the entire night fishing. If anyone had noticed his absence, no one said anything. They were a close-mouthed group these villagers, especially towards outsiders. Thus it was that several days later when Elders from the City came by the village to inquire after Pallas, who had mysteriously disappeared from his villa one night, all they received was shrugs and denials. No, no one had seen Pallas. Yes, they were all out fishing together that night. The Elders left no more edified than when they arrived. It was finally declared that one of the Gods must have snatched Pallas from the midst of his friends, and he was never seen again in the living world. In truth, the Elders suspected that one or another of Pallas' enemies had removed him from the realm of the living, but they had no way of proving who it was. At the end of the day the Elders were reluctant to waste more time on a man like Pallas who had so offended the Gods with his acts. And so it was that Zoe was avenged. Jason and Elena found happiness in each other's arms, and they prospered. They never became rich, but they always had enough to feed and clothe their family and to be happy. Elena had three of her own children with Jason, in addition to Zoe's three, and the children all honored their parents until Jason and Elena themselves departed this life. And being pious people, long after Zoe had been forgotten the village, Jason and Elena, their children, and their children's children, continued to leave offerings of Lilies each year at the Temple of Hades to remember Zoe, who had been Jason's wife and Elena's sister. &&&&&& This was a somewhat whimsical story — after all, doesn't everyone want to write their own Greek Tragedy? I must confess that the idea of setting a contemporary sounding story in ancient Greece came from two sources. First, reading a 'young adult' book in the Percy Jackson series. Rick Riorden, the author of those books, uses a novel format set in modern times to teach the ancient mythology. It is a clever idea! Second, thinking about lovers in hell sent me back to Dante, who tells the story of Francesca da Rimini and her lover Paolo Malatesta together in hell after being discovered by her husband, Giovanni, who kills them both. Jason doesn't kill Zoe (who takes her own life), but he does kill her lover Palas. So there is a certain kind of parallel between the stories. Thanks to a number of readers who gave me feedback on Jason and Zoe — Marty, Maddie, Mostera, Rach and some others (you know who you are!) for their corrections and suggestions. They were all very astute and useful.