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Chapter Sixteen

Of Ancient Greasepaint

I am not two steps down the hall, before I run into my mother.

“Come on, N. Your brother is making an announcement to the people about his marriage. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Wonderful.”

“Where have you been? You look a perfect fright.” She starts fussing with my hair, running her fingers through in short strokes, first this hand then that.

“Mama, mama, whoa. I’ve got to talk to Bedelia right away. You can style my hair later. Let’s go!”

We follow the landing to the second story balcony overlooking the square, where I held my post-bath, pre-Plan conference with the Prime Minister. There Toody, Thalia and Pisistrato are waving to the people. Prominent among the well-wishers jammed into the square below are many Spartans.

“FOLKS!” Toody addresses the crowd, and they hush. “A lot of you asked me just now while I was dispensing comedy, ‘Who was that lady I saw you was at the wrestling match?’ That was no lady. That was my wife, Bedelia, the mask maker!”

Toody gestures to Thalia, who steps forward modestly blushing, to the applause of the multitude.

“And you asked me,” Toody continues,”who was that guy who officiated at the wrestling match? He was funny, you told me. Heavy duty comic abilities. I say to you, he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother, and our new Assistant Prime Minister. N! Step up and meet the folks!”

I step up, but the crowd falls silent.

“I know, I know,” Pisistrato steps forward,”You thought Knots was Toody’s brother. So did we. But irrefutable physical evidence manifested on the person of this young lawyer type shyster mouthpiece reveals him to be duke Toody’s brother, who as a baby three days old was exchanged by perpetrators unknown for that sourpuss who earlier today tried to foist himself on you as KING, already. I’m not saying more. That must suffice for you to believe me, since I’m out of breath.”

“Fellow citizens!” It’s Calculotta, stepping forward on the balcony, having emerged from the palace unknown to me.”As finance minister to the great city of Thaliopolis, and as past president of the Guild of notaries public, I certify to you under penalty of perjury that I have examined this man from top to bottom, and I find him to be as Pisistrato says, Toody’s brother, and by the way, my future husband.”

The people hurray and whoop as she slips into my arms.

Toody hushes the celebrating citizenry once more. “I know I’ve lived all my life with Knots as my brother, and he’s made a lot of mistakes. He’s bound to be real embarrassed by the way things turned out for him today. He’s still family, as far as we’re concerned. So everybody is to be nice to him. And that’s a decree, if you know what I mean.”

The people applaud their assent.

Suddenly, in mid air directly above the people in the square, and only about ten feet above the balcony, Icapus materializes. The people gasp. The wings on his ankles are whipping the air at a furious rate. He buzzes above the city blowing a stupid little tin horn.

The people love it. Nothing like an aerial act for a crowdpleaser.  However, my heart sinks lower with each spiral, flip and barrel roll that he performs. I know he’ll be announcing the arrival of Apollo as soon as he finishes showing off.

But will he finish showing off? He goes on and on, obviously enjoying the peoples’ attention.

I look over to Thalia. Toody and the rest of the family are absorbed in what they perceive to be an entertainment, so they don’t notice when she and I step behind them to confer.

“Who’s that crazy aerialist?” she asks me.

“That’s Apollo’s messenger boy. He was my foster father.”

“Ohhhh! That explains a lot! What’s he doing here?”

“I’m supposed to get you to sign a marriage contract with Apollo.”

“That creep? I can’t stand him.”

“He’s going to change Calculotta’s mind about me if I don’t get you to sign.”

“Did you have a deadline on this impossible task?”

“Yes. Right now. Or as soon as Icapus gets around to announcing his boss. Look at him! What an ego trip.”

Icapus has smoke streaming from his fingertips, and begin skywriting. We all muttor in unison as the words appear.
Behind the red smoke trails, the gigantically pudgy face of Apollo emerges, looking annoyed and preoccupied. The people erupt with applause and appreciation. Their duke is taken in, too.

 “What a show! Unbelievable!” he exclaims, shaking his head in disbelief as he applauds.

Mother and Calculotta are equally awestruck. Pisistrato looks at me helplessly, his normally roseate features overcast by an ashen shadow. I’m thinking very fast, and coming up blank.

“Yuck, it’s Apollo,” observes Thalia quietly to me. “He’s gotten so fat since the last time I saw him.”

“You know the aerialist dear?” inquires Toody.

“After a manner of speaking. I think we may be related. “Thalia’s face brightens. “Ah-ha!” she says. Either she has an idea, or she’s just discovered uranium.

At that moment, the dark skies over the abandoned Spartan camp take on a ruddy glow. The wind picks up. Boiling clouds form quickly, spitting lime colored lightning bolts. Thunder peels. Soon among the clouds, the red and angry face of Mars appears, every bit as gigantic as Apollo’s, whose face still leers from the opposite quarter of the sky.

The people are spellbound, completely silent. We can hear the demonic laughter of Knots echoing across the shallow valley between the city and the hillside strewn with so many deadly machines.

“WHERE IS MY ARMY?” thunders the red god.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” demands the god of law from across the heavens.

“I HAVE COME FOR MY BRIDE AND MY ARMY!”

The Spartans in the crowd shift uncomfortably and look at one another. Those close to or touching new Thaliopolitan friends take a short step away. Some wearing gaudy costumes tug nervously at the fasteners, as if hoping no one will notice they ever put them on.

“WHERE ARE YOUR SPEARS, YOUR SWORDS?” sneers Mars, peering down at his former devotees.

Apollo growls, “NEVER MIND THAT! I HAVE A CONTRACT HERE!”

My heart drops. I rush to Calculotta and give her as hot a kiss as I can muster.

“Goodbye,” I tell her.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

The ear shattering voice of Mars interrupts, screaming at Apollo.

“YOU ARE FAT AND USELESS, AND ONCE MORE YOU ARE IN MY FACE. WHERE IS MY ARMY? WHERE IS MY BRIDE?”

Apollo screams back at him, “YOU QUESTION MY POWER? YOU RIDICULOUS BRUTE! I WILL MATCH YOU BLOW FOR BLOW!”

“Pisistrato!” Toody calls to his PM, “this wasn’t the best choice of post nuptial entertainment. We’ve just got the Spartans calmed down. Now here you get them all excited again!”

“Your grace,” wheezes the old guy, “I can’t take full credit for this spectacle. In fact, I got to go lie down.”

He pauses on his way inside, and touches my arm.

“Come get me if this is ever over,” he tells me. “If it’s not, don’t bother.” Then he disappears into the palace.

Toody exclaims, “I’ve got to intervene here!”

I tried to stop him. “Toody, you don’t know what you’re getting mixed up with!”

“Let him go,” grins Thalia. “You might be surprised what one person can do.”

Toody leaps from the balcony, swinging from railings and canopies like a cat. Eventually, he gets to the far end of the square and mounts the stage I’ve mentioned so many times. His efforts draw the attention of other people, and while none of us are looking, the giant faces and Icapus disappear from the sky. Toody has everyone’s complete attention.

“I want to thank you all for wishing me and my wife well on this special day,” he says.”These sky entertainments you’ve been enjoying are designed for just that — your enjoyment, but I want to assure our new friends, who might still harbor some superstitions, that none of this was real, but only a show which we arranged.”

The relief of the Spartans is so widespread, it is as if they had rehearsed sighing in unison for weeks.

“Speaking of superstitions,” continues the head of state,”This is a great moment to administer the oath of citizenship to the new Thaliopolitans in our midst.” There is a murmur of excitement and approval. “Raise your right hand, everybody.” Everybody raises right hands.”This is in the ancient tongue of Thaliopolis, so don’t try to understand it, just repeat after me, okay?”

Everybody responds,”Okay.”

Toody administers the following oath:
“Owa
Tagoo
Saiyam
Glatta
Seeya
Omaigad
Amuskeeta.”
At which point he lowers his upraised hand to slap the back of his neck. We all have followed suit as we repeat the mystery words. The joke sinks in, and laughter echoes in the city square.

Suddenly the gargantuan forms of Mars and Apollo drop out of the clouds behind Toody, locked in combat. They hit the plain outside the gate with a tremendous thump that shakes every brick in town.

The crowd recoils and screams.

The two gods struggle to their feet, never losing their mutual grip. They are about twenty times the size of a normal person, towering above the city walls against the sky. Toody shoots a black look at us on the palace balcony.

“Well,” the Duke announces to the frightened multitude,”We seem to have resumed our entertainment. Spectacular, isn’t it?”

The gods break their clinch and face off. Mars slaps Apollo across the face, sending him crashing into the city gate, which loses a few big stones, but remains upright. Apollo leaps back to his feet. He lifts his huge hands above his head. They suddenly fill with thousands of sheets of paper.

“SLAP ME!”  he bellows. “HOW DARE YOU SLAP ME? I’LL SLAP YOU BACK!’

Apollo flings the papers at Mars.  They stream from his hands like water from a fire hose, knocking the red giant back onto the hill, scattering the catapults and other siege machines, and forcing Knots to ride for his life.

The wind and all the elements are in the mood for a fight, too, and soon these papers are flying all over the place. A cloud of them blows back over the city, so I can snatch a handfull is they spin past the balcony.

“What are they?” asks Calculotta.

“Injunctions,” I tell her after a quick look.”Apollo has slapped Mars with injunctions.”

Mars pulls himself back to his feet.

“I DON’T NEED AN ARMY. I AM AN ARMY! CHAAAARRRRGE!!!!!!!!!!!”

At once the catapults, battering rams, chariots and siege towers bristling with jagged spikes take on life of their own, and begin to creep down the slope toward our city gate. The catapults begin loading and firing themselves, and with each step, Mars sends alternate showers of stones, arrows and spears from each of his hands. They are aimed at Apollo, not Thaliopolis, but stray shots bound among the people. Everyone dodges them alright, but barely.

At this point, with Mars stomping toward us, and Knots prancing around the red god’s feet with the relentlessly charging inanimate army, Apollo begins an incantation.
“ATTORNEYLETTERSUMMONS
ANDCOMPLAINTMOTIONFOR
SUMMARYJUDGMENTINLIEUOFCOMPLAINT
LISPENDENSTEMPORARY
RESTRAININGORDERRULEOR
MOTIONTOSHOWCAUSE
ATTORNEYSLIENINJUNCTION
MOTIONFORPROTECTIVE
ORDERMOTIONTOCOMPELANSWERS
TOINTERROGATORIESAND
REQUESTSFORPRODUCTIONOF
DOCUMENTSANDTHINGSMOTIONFOR
SANCTIONSMOTIONFOR
DEFAULTJUDGMENTSUASPONTE
JUDGMENTOFFEROF
JUDGMENTENTRYOF
! ! ! ! ! ! JUDGEMENT ! ! ! ! ! !
As soon as this incantation begins, Icapus pops out of the clouds directly above Mars, lugging what appears to be a huge briefcase. He immediately dumps it onto the attacker. It’s vomits fourth such a massive volume of papers that, by the time Apollo is finished chanting, Mars and Knots, with all their equipment, are completely buried. The hillside is silent, except for the occasional turkey gobble of documents tumbling and sliding to a final resting place.

Apollo turns to regard the city, dusting his hands against one another.

“SO MUCH FOR THAT PETTY ANNOYANCE. ONE MORE MATTER TO ATTEND TO.”

He vanishes, as does his airborne assistant.

Toody begins the applause. He smiles at the people and shakes his head as if he has just witnessed a stupendous fireworks display.

“Let’s hear it for today’s show!” the Duke cries out enthusiastically.

The people have been terrified, but eventually they pick up the cue from Toody that it was all harmless fun. There applause gradually built into innovation, and then a chant.

“TOODY! TOODY! TOODY! TOODY! TOODY!”

He quiets them.”Thanks people. What a day! If everyone will take a Spartan tonight, make it your responsibility that no one is left out, we’ll solve the problem of new housing in the morning. Goodnight!”

Another ovation as the crowd begins to break up, and Toody makes his way across the square, back to the palace, with frequent stops along the way for hearty congratulations.

I may be the only person in town who knows Apollo can’t be finished with us yet.
Ancient Greasepaint Copyright 1990 Louder Than a Lie Publications, LLC
and David Keith Johnson
All Rights Reserved
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