Cupid (16 page)

Well, no, he hasn't. The story says it has no idea what Cupid is doing, because I changed things. You remember the scene when Psyche took the lamp and looked at Cupid, and the oil dropped on him. Well, back in the year one hundred, the burn injured him so severely that he had to stay in bed until it healed. That might have made sense to folks back in one hundred, but people today would not believe something as lame as that. They would say Cupid was a wimp if he was going to go missing in action from a little burn. Plus, Psyche was much too fine to be wasting her time on someone who lets his mama push him around like he was still in a baby carriage. So I told the story this is not the year one hundred, and it can't be telling itself now the way it told itself then. And anyway, I'm doing the telling this time, so the story best sit down and listen.

When we last saw Cupid he was lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how things got so messed up. In the first place, he had thought that Psyche
would be happy with him coming to see her every night. This proves that Cupid did not know anything about women. As much as most women love jewelry, fine clothes, and chocolate, they want to go places so they can show off their jewelry and clothes. They also want to go places so they can show off their husbands, or whomever they are going out with. And they definitely want to know what the person loving them looks like! Cupid did not understand that just because the relationship was fine for him, that did not mean it was fine for Psyche.

The second mistake Cupid made was this: after Psyche disobeyed him and saw who he was, he expected that he could leave her and his life would return to what it was before. That is not how love works. When someone becomes a part of your heart and your soul, you are forever changed. There is no going back to who you were before, because who you were does not exist anymore.

That morning when Cupid flew away from Psyche, he knew he was making a big mistake. He wanted to turn around and go back and tell her he was sorry. But he could not do that because he was still more of a child than he was a man. When a man makes a mistake, when a man hurts the woman he loves, he accepts responsibility for hurting her and tells her so. But if that male is still more child than man, he goes off somewhere and pouts. And if he pouts too long, he gets depressed.

That's why Cupid couldn't do anything except lie there
in his bed and stare up at the ceiling, where all he saw was Psyche's face. He would look at it and say, "Why did you have to go and spoil everything? We had a perfect relationship and we would be together now if you had just done what I told you."

But something interesting happened. The more Cupid tried to blame Psyche, the more depressed he got. And that was the best thing that could have happened to him.

I know you must think I'm crazy. Depression is one of the worst feelings there is, but just because you feel bad, it does not mean what is happening to you
is
bad. (And, Jupiter knows: I have been depressed enough to know what I'm talking about.)

Slowly Cupid began to realize he could not spend his life blaming Psyche, and maybe, just maybe, he was the one who had been at fault. The minute he had that thought, he started moving away from being a child and toward becoming an adult.

Cupid's depression broke. Shame washed over him like wave after wave of ocean water striking the beach. He started to cry, but his tears were not because he missed Psyche. His tears were ones of regret over how he had used Psyche for his own gratification. He had never stopped to think about her and what she might have wanted and needed. There would never be a relationship until what she wanted was as important as what he wanted. And he cried aloud.

Far below, in the cold, dark basement, Psyche heard.

Neither Cupid nor Psyche slept well that night. Neither did Venus. The goddess had been unsettled by her last encounter with Psyche. The girl had dared look her directly in the eyes. It was if she were no longer afraid of what Venus might do to her. And no wonder. Whatever Venus sent her to do, she emerged not only unscathed but triumphant. The other gods and goddesses were laughing openly at Venus now whenever she went into the center of Olympus. Even Mars had snickered when she walked past him last evening. Venus would be laughed out of Olympus if she did not come up with a plan to be done with Psyche once and for all.

The goddess lay awake much of the night, thinking and plotting. When she finished, she was amazed at her brilliance. The plan was the most elaborate anyone could have devised, because it was filled with hidden snares. Not only would it be hard for any person or creature to help Psyche, but even if someone did, the final snare, the hidden heart of the plan, could not fail, because it used Psyche's weakness against her.

As soon as Psyche had finished her breakfast of fruit and was brought up from the basement, Venus rushed into the room.

"Good morning," the goddess greeted her pleasantly. "I hope you slept well."

"Thank you, Goddess. I did."

"I'm pleased to hear that, because the task you are to perform today requires that you be well rested."

Psyche noticed that Venus was holding a small box made of inlaid mother-of-pearl.

"Yes," Venus began, noticing Psyche looking at the box. "Isn't it beautiful? Neptune had it made especially for me. I want you to take the box and go to the underworld, to the death palace of the god Pluto, the ruler of the underworld, and his queen, Proserpine. You are to give the box to her and tell her the following: 'The lady Venus sends her compliments and asks that you put into the box a little of your beauty and send it back with the one who brings it. I have been so worried about my son, who is not well, that I have depleted my store of beauty until there is scarcely any left.'

"When Queen Proserpine returns the box to you, you are to come back here immediately. The muses are giving a performance tonight at the Apollo Theater, and I cannot attend looking like an old hag. It's all your fault I look like this. If you had failed at one of the tasks I gave you and died, my life would be back to normal. But since it seems that you are indestructible and simply won't die, I should at least have my beauty back. You're the one who has caused me to lose it, thus you are the one who must help me reclaim it."

Venus handed the box to Psyche, then kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Hurry, child. The performance is tonight and I cannot miss it! And I am certain that Cupid would be
delighted to escort you to it." With that, the goddess turned and walked rapidly away.

Psyche's heart rose at Venus's words. Then it fell just as quickly. If she let herself believe anything Venus said, she was a fool. No goddess would give in to the desires of a mortal, and especially no mortal hated as much as Venus did Psyche. Why was Venus sending her to the kingdom of death if she did not want her to remain there? Was it possible for a living person to enter Pluto's realm and return? Didn't one have to be already dead to enter the underworld? And how exactly did someone who was alive enter?

As Psyche left Venus's palace, the little confidence she had received from Jupiter's eagle the day before was waning. Even the deities were loathe to enter Pluto's realm. But maybe she could find someone who could tell her a little about that bleak realm. She did not even know how to get to it.

Psyche went into the center of Olympus, where all the deities and their servants were hurrying to get ready for that evening's festivities. There were lines outside the barbershop and the beauty parlor, the tailor's shop and the cobbler's. "An Evening with the Muses" was the biggest social event of the Olympian year. Everybody who was anybody attended, arrayed in their finest clothes and jewels. And that was why Aeolus, the keeper of the Winds, was there with his wife, Cyane, and the Four Winds: Favonius, Aquilo, Eurus, and Auster.

Though he was a mortal, Aeolus was the inventor of sails
and possessed the gift of predicting the weather, a skill the deities often had need of before they undertook their earthly adventures. Aeolus was a favorite of Jupiter, and each year, the god invited Aeolus, Cyane, and the Four Winds to sit in his box and enjoy the muses's performances.

That is how it came about that Favonius saw Psyche wandering among the crowd, looking around as if she were seeking someone in particular.

"There's Psyche!" West Wind exclaimed.

Aeolus, Cyane, and the Winds stopped to look. They had developed an affection for her from Favonius's description of her beauty and his stories about her and her sisters.

"She looks worried," Cyane said. "Shall we see if she needs help?"

And before Aeolus could respond, Cyane was jumping up and down, waving an arm, and shouting, "Psyche! Psyche! Over here!"

"Don't do that!" Aeolus said firmly to his wife. The Four Winds had told him what had been going on between Venus and Psyche, and he was reluctant to interfere in matters that concerned the deities. "Please, stop! Psyche is none of our business."

As soon as he heard his words, he wanted to take them back. His wife was named for Cyane, a female spirit who had seen Pluto kidnap Proserpine and take her to the underworld.

Cyane was a water nymph. She lived in a pool of water and rose up and tried to stop Pluto when he grabbed
Proserpine. But she was no match for the god of the dead. Cyane was heartbroken at her failure, and she grieved so much that she eventually dissolved into the waters of her pool.

When Ceres came looking for her daughter Proserpine, Cyane could not tell her what she had seen. But Ceres saw Proserpine's girdle floating on the pool of water and had a clue as to her daughter's whereabouts.

Cyane the wife of Aeolus had wondered if she would ever have the opportunity to do something as heroic as her namesake had done. As her eyes met Psyche's and she saw the worry in them, Cyane wondered if this was the day she would become worthy of her name.

She hurried to meet Psyche—Aeolus and the Four Winds following.

"Psyche!" a familiar voice called to her.

Psyche recognized the voice of Favonius and then felt his familiar arms around her. "Oh, I am so happy you are here!" she exclaimed.

After everyone introduced themselves, Psyche told them all that had happened to her and what Venus was demanding of her now.

"Venus is such a bitch!" Cyane exclaimed.

"Shhhh!" Aelous cautioned her.

"Don't you come shushing me!" Cyane told him. "Look at this poor child! What did she do to deserve this?"

"This is none of our business. We should not interfere in the affairs of the gods and goddesses."

"And why not? They interfere in our business anytime they please! Why shouldn't we interfere in theirs every now and then?"

While Aeolus was a cautious man by nature, he was also a man who listened closely and deeply. He had to, because the merest wisp of South Wind could portend an awful storm, and he had to be alert so he could warn people. If he could hear the quietest inhalation of an ill wind, then he certainly could hear his wife, who did not know what a whisper was.

"You're right," he agreed. "The gods are not always just, nor are they always right. And, in this instance, it is obvious that Venus is being ruled by jealousy and not love. But what can we do?"

Aquilo, North Wind, answered immediately. "Well, I've been spending time in the underworld. Pluto has given me some great ideas about how to blow snow in mortals' faces and how to use cold to burn their cheeks and ears, and just so many other things I would never have thought of."

"Didn't I tell you—," Aeolus began before Cyane stopped him.

"Save it! Now is not the time for you and Aquilo to get into one of your arguments."

Reluctantly, Aeolus agreed. "Go on, Aquilo."

"Yes, well, as I was saying. I've been studying with Pluto and I've learned much about how things function in the underworld. I think I know exactly how Psyche can go, then return safely."

"That's wonderful!" they all agreed.

Aquilo turned to Auster, South Wind. "Is not Taenarus in your realm?"

Auster thought for a moment, then brightened. "Yes. It's on a peninsula and is not easy to find. I don't go there often because"—he stopped as he realized what he was about to say—"because there's a hole to the underworld there."

"That's what I thought. Will you take her there?"

"It will be my pleasure. Favonius should not be the only one who gets to have such a beautiful woman in his arms."

Aquilo now turned to Cyane. "I need two pieces of barley bread that have been soaked in honey water."

Cyane looked around until she saw the bakery. "I'll be right back."

"Aeolus, can you give me two coins?" Aquilo asked.

"Of course." He reached in his pocket, took out the coins, and gave them to Aquilo.

When Cyane returned, Aquilo proceeded to tell Psyche everything she must do if she was going to go to the underworld and return.

Psyche repeated everything Aquilo told her, until she had it memorized.

"Good!" Cyane praised her. Then she turned to the others. "Leave us for a moment. I must speak with Psyche, as one woman to another." Cyane put her arm around Psyche's shoulders and hugged her tightly. "I envy you."

Psyche was shocked. "Why would anyone envy me?"

"Because the Fates are putting you to a test to see if you are worthy."

"Worthy of what?"

"Of love. Of the child you are carrying. If you do everything Aquilo has told you, you will return safely. Then if Venus insists on torturing you even more, Aeolus and I will go to Jupiter ourselves and insist that he make her stop."

The two hugged. "Thank you for everything," Psyche said.

"Auster? It's time," Cyane called to South Wind.

Cyane gave Psyche another warm hug. "The end of your troubles will soon be over. After you accomplish this task, I do not see how Venus cannot see that you are worthy to be her daughter-in-law."

"I hope you are right."

Then Aeolus, Auster, Aquilo, Eurus, and Favonius each hugged Psyche.

"Are you ready?" Auster asked.

"I am," Psyche said firmly.