A Man with a Plan

I’ve got a plan in mind of how to sort out these freeloaders who are ruining me but it needs more thought. For goodness sake, look at them! They’re gambling in front of the house. Servants bustle about serving my mother’s suitors who drink our wine without diluting it with water. I heard one glutton shout out:

           "Clean down the tables with wet sponges! Rouse yourselves! And when you've done that lay them out again!"

Other greedy pigs carve mountains of meat. I was almost ready to admit defeat. Then I thought I glimpsed Athena disguised as a man although no one else seemed to. What was I thinking! Sat among those suitors I’ve long despised, I daydreamed of how my father would rid our palace of these hopefuls. I was surprised by the images! Horrible, vivid, the bastards’ bloody bodies heaped chest-high, slaughtered by a king they’d sought to defy.

As I sat brooding, I spied a stranger at the gate and went straight to greet him there. At the time, the goddess, Athena's, stratagem to change her appearance to that of a man at first kept me unaware of her divinity. For, she realized the danger of my being overawed was unfair. Facing me as a mortal, she knew I would be at ease and act without feeling I had to please her.

I said to the stranger, “Welcome, I am so glad to see you, sir. What news do you have of the world outside? Sit next to me so we hear each other talk. The palace is full of suitors seeking my mother’s hand in marriage. They make an awful racket when they get drunk shouting, telling crude jokes, and screaming with laughter. It is hard to ignore it. But it is a bit quieter out here.”

At that moment, the door to the great hall of our palace opened wide and the noise of feasting and merriment grew louder. Four suitors staggered down to where we were and flopped down beside us. It was evident they’d drunk far too much from their boorish ways, rough, tipsy voices, and their glassy gaze. One, Antinous, said,

“What’s this? No music dancing or singing? Where is Phemius, the minstrel? Tell him to play for us or I'll kick his backside! Tell him, I, Lord Antinous, wants everyone to hear how artistic Phemius is with a sweet song harmonious and pleasing. Get to it, Telemachus, make him to sing. Don’t look so serious!”

I nudged the stranger to edge down the bench to get away from these aggressive drunks and avoid breathing in the fetid stench from their sour wine-soaked breath. Their beards had chunks of vomit on them as they tried to quench their insatiable thirst for wine and they dunk their faces in food bowls like pigs at a trough, gorging so fast that they splutter and cough. Whispering, I said to the stranger

 “I don’t mind a little excess and feasting's cheap when you don't have to pay, but there, in some dark uncharted wilderness may lie the bleaching bones of my father, King Odysseus, long gone, whose wealth these greedy vultures feed upon.”

Another brute, Eurymachus, stood up. He staggered unsteadily on his feet wine spilling from his cup. Eyes bleary, face white as a laundered sheet, he bared his backside, wagged it like a pup, and farted.

“I thought I’d give you a treat!” he said, in generous mood, his speech slurred staring down at his friends with vision blurred. Lord Antinous giggled

“Eurymachus, you are unfit to grace this respectable, noble place. That stink would curdle goats’ milk! I admit you’re daring in baring your bum. Replace your face with your backside there’s more hair on it! The barefaced cheek you show is a disgrace! I suggest you sit on your best feature you ill-mannered, uncouth, ugly creature.”

Eurymachus retorted “You're no Greek god yourself, Antinous! Lady Penelope will choose me over you, you drunken sod! And, I can say, without hyperbole, she'll be transfixed by the size of my rod when I hook her! What a catastrophe for her if she handles your tiny worm. She’ll not even notice it twist and squirm!” They guffawed, banged their fists on the table and shouted, “More food, more drink! Bring more bread, more meat, and much more wine if you don't want us to cause a stink! Another drunk yelled, “And bring on the dancing girls! We need fine young maidens sent to us. Just think what we can do with those girls, boys! We can line them up, take our pick, kiss them quick and grope!”

To the stranger I said, “I’ve lost all hope. These brutes, sir, would pray for longer legs, for no amount of pleading would save them, if my father came back. They'll drain the dregs of the last of the wine, spit out their phlegm and belch foul breath smelling of rotten eggs, I fear, before then. We will never stem rumours of his homecoming. But he's dead. Now, sir, tell me about yourself instead.”

The stranger replied “Don’t be too sure of that. Listen, I’m your father’s friend, Mentes, on a voyage, here with my ship and crew. Our fathers, your grandfather, Laertes, and mine, were good friends, as he will tell you. I came here because rumours exist that he's home, your father, Odysseus. You don’t believe it to be true, However, I know for sure he isn't dead and he is not on the mainland. Therefore, it’s more likely he's held captive on one of the islands. Strange thing but there is a voice inside my brain so strong I know it's authoritative that tells me he will soon be home again. Your father is clever and adaptive. Thus, even though he's bound with iron chain, he'll find a way to get back home.”

“I think my father's doomed to die captive or roam the seas. Either way, he'll never get home. When my father was here, life went on well. Now, we don't know if he's dead or living. It would be far better if they would tell us he died in battle. We could finally break the spell he's cast over us and start forgiving those who killed him. Then, I could build a mound to his memory.

But he's been gone without a single trace for twenty years. I will inherit nothing but sad dismay, and it doesn't end with my grief. The race to marry my mother is on! Until she chooses, her suitors will eat us out of house and home. We face ruin by them while they pay court to my mother who cannot decide whether she will or not become a bride to one of them.”

After a short pause, Mentes said, “Telemachus, you don’t seem to have a concrete plan to deal with this situation. What you need is to have Odysseus back here again! He would give your mother's suitors short thrift. For sure he will return and take his revenge within these gates. Meanwhile get rid of these suitors at once. You are Telemachus, Prince of Ithaca, so summon its leading citizens to an assembly tomorrow. Lay your case before them. Ask the gods to help you. Bid the Suitors depart. Reduce the odds ranged against you. Let your dear mother go back to her father. If she decides she wants to wed, then he can give her away. Go and seek for your father that same day.”

So, together we developed a plan in which I will take a ship with twenty men and voyage to neighbouring islands to ask for news of my missing father. If no news or bad news, I will hold  a funeral fit for a warrior king, erect a monument, and insist that my mother, Lady Penelope, remarry.

The End