Untitled Essay, Research Paper

As Hephaestus was walking down Rhea Street on Mount Olympus, he noticed his

wife, Aphrodite, kissing Hermes, the messenger-God, next to the area’s

one and only Burger God (very well-known for its char-broiled Whoppers).

“Wait just a tootin’ minute,” he said aloud to himself.

“Why is my wife kissing Hermes? She is supposed to be devoted to me!” He

was furious. It was very rare when Hephaestus became angry for any reason,

so he was certain to have taken notice of his odd and unusual reaction. “I

must settle this like a calm, rational person,” he told himself at last.

“This matter can very easily be resolved.” He sighed. “I shall speak to her

when she returns home. Until then, I am going to go home and rest a

while—think things through.”

And with that thought, Hephaestus made his way home, being

absolutely sure not to look in the direction of the scene Aphrodite and Hermes

was putting on for all the gods to see; however, it was not easy.

After several hours of waiting, Aphrodite finally came

home—and Hephaestus was there waiting for her. It was now dark, so she

fumbled through the room to find a light. One was turned on before she could

come across one. It startled her so! She whipped around toward the direction

of the source of the light, only to find Hephaestus sitting in his favorite

easy chair, a glass of red wine in one hand and a grape bushel in the other.

He had the most peculiar grin on his face.

“How was your day, dearest?” he asked his wife charmingly.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Why, yes, thank you,” she said cautiously, wondering

why on Olympus he was acting so out of the ordinary. “How was yours?” she

asked after a small moment’s hesitance.

“Oh, it was remarkable, thanks.” The grin never left his

face. “Tell me, Aphrodite, did you make anyone happy today?” She gave him

a confused look, as if she did not understand the question. Hephaestus picked

up on it quickly and he re-addressed the question. “By that I mean, since

you are the Goddess of Love and Beauty, did you make anyone happy? Perhaps,

send them a reason to fall in love?”

“Oh,” she said at last, “of course I did. My day

wouldn’t be complete if I hadn’t. Why do you ask, Hephaestus?”

“I only ask because I just want to know how your day was,

that’s all,” he responded almost immediately after the question was

addressed. “No particular reason behind it.”

“I see,” she said, still confused, and made her way to

the giant marble staircase. “Well, I suppose I shall be heading up to bed

now. I’ve had a very tiring day, you know. I will see you in the

morning.”

“Okay then,” he said, getting up from the chair. “One

more thing, my love…” He walked toward her with a limp, grimacing slightly

at the response his crippled leg gave him when he stood upon it. Nonetheless,

he made his way to the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes?” she asked, halfway up the stairs.

“Was that Hermes I saw you with today next to the Burger

God? You know, the one on the corner of Cronus and Rhea?”

“Oh!” she almost said bluntly, but instead, “Yes, I suppose

you could have. Why do you ask?” She had turned around completely now, and

was slowly walking back down the stairs, step…by step…by step.

“Well,” he began, straightening his robe, “I happened

to be taking a stroll down Rhea Street to drop off a sword for Zeus, and

I noticed that you and he were…well, very fond of each other.”

At that, Aphrodite’s heart became very shallow and

almost non-existent. Then it sped up, out of nowhere, and her face and ears

turned bright red. “But…well…you see, I…” She tried to speak,

but nothing would come out. There would have been a very long pause of silence

if Hephaestus hadn’t said:

“Aphrodite, dear, please tell me either he was choking

on something and you were only trying to get it out of him, or…” He

stopped right there, tears slowly forming. He had seen the look in her eyes,

and knew right then and there that there could not be an alternate to what

he knew was undeniable. Tears began to flood his eyes, rage and anger pushing

up from his stomach. He tried to hold back, being successful at first, then

letting it all out.

“How could you?” he sobbed, then boomed, “You broke my

heart, Aphrodite! You ripped it from my chest, tore it into halves and quarters,

threw it to the ground, stomped on it, then spat”—he took a deep breath,

tears now streaming from his face—”then spat on it.” Hephaestus removed

his left hand from his hip, covered his eyes with it, and began to sob

indefinitely.

“Hephaestus, I’m truly sorry…” she said, achieving

nothing. Then, in more effort to comfort him, she said, “I didn’t want

to hurt you.”

Hephaestus looked up, looking through the tears that flooded

his eyes and face. He sniffed, “Did you do it because of this?”—he pointed

to his deformed leg. “Is it because I am not the most beautiful immortal

you have ever seen? Why must you be so shallow?” He now just stared at her,

his eyes blazing with fury. Red, red fury.

“Me, shallow?” she asked at once. “How can you accuse

me of being shallow? All you do is spend all your time making goods and tools

for other gods. You never ever sit and talk with me. We never do anything

together.” She stopped pleading, for the moment, and began to speak

extremely…well, snobby. “I hardly think I am the one to blame for this

mess, anyway.” She turned a quarter of a turn, her left shoulder now facing

her husband.

“How can you say that?” he rasped. “You know just as well

as I that I was not the one getting fresh with Hermes! Hermes, of all people.

Ha!” His voice was now extremely loud, filled with anger. Hephaestus was

not one to get so angry. If one were watching such an argument, they would

surely know that Aphrodite had done something extremely terrible for him

to be acting so unusual.

“Oh, do shut up, will you!” Hephaestus was stunned. Never,

in their many many years of marriage, had Aphrodite ever told him to shut

up. “I don’t want to hear another word about it. I will go upstairs

to rest for the night; meanwhile, you will sleep down here in the easy chair.

Sleep on the floor, for all I care! We shall talk about this in the morning.”

With that, she made her way upstairs.

“No I won’t!” he boomed, and rushed out the door,

slamming it behind him. He did not return the rest of the evening. Or the

next day…or the day after that…or the day after that…