Who am I?

The days were long, but the classes seemed longer. Staring at the clock and falling asleep during Mr. Rogers’ class was inevitable. It happened to practically every student, except Richard. He enjoyed hearing the historical myths and stories of the Greek gods. 

Everyone heard all the stories before, including Koalemos, the god of stupidity, but he just loved them. Since he was a child, he dreamt of flying with Hermes, singing with Apollo, and swimming with Poseidon. To him, they were already family, and knowing just how lucky he is to have these visions made Mr. Rogers’ class that much better. 

When the bell rang, you could almost see a tear in his eyes. As the class ended and the memories faded. It just wasn’t enough to have a glimpse of a place his mind called home. He needed more. So he learned more, read more, researched, and studied until it seared the knowledge into his mind. To jog all the memories he has from years ago.

The Main Branch seemed to carry a wide variety of genres, including the one Richard needed. Richard spent day after day, night after night, reading every book he could get his hands on. Until one Tuesday afternoon, he walked in, and something caught his eye. A new book. It had just arrived. He picked it up and felt the spine was cold to the touch, and the leather was soft. Just smelling the book jogged memories that seemed like dreams but felt so real.

“Don’t touch that!”. The security guard walked up to Richard, reaching for the book.

“Sorry, Peter. I guess my curiosity got the better of me today.” Peter is Richard’s friend, he has worked at the library for as long as anyone can remember. Richard let go of the book and watched as Peter placed it back on display.

“Where’d it come from?”, Richard moved closer to the book. The sun reflected off the golden button on the book to Richards’ eyes.

“Some big collector sold it to us. He said it needs to be read, that leaving it on the shelf in his office was no place for an artifact like this one.” Peter saw a little boy biting a book and rushed off. Richard stared at the book, soaking in all of its glory. 

That night, Richard wondered if there was a way he could read it. The book called out to him in his dreams, night after night. It’s been two weeks since he’s gotten over six hours of sleep. 

Every morning since the artifact, Richard would pace the entire block imagining what could be in it. Until he couldn’t wait anymore, so he went in and demanded to see the book. Peter had never seen Richard so nervous and excited at the same time.

Peter got the book from its display and gave it to Richard. He found a table that was empty and placed the book down. 

Peter sat across from Richard and with every twist of the twine, his eyes grew wider. Richard finally opened it and read from the first page.

“Time is nothing if not an illusion. Read Bard of Avon and see. ‘I wasted time, and now doth time waste me. All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.’” 

A burst of light came from the page, knocking the bookshelves back and a circle of destruction all around Richard. No one on the outside could see through the illumination, as a shadow cast over Richard and the book. The man gives his hand to Richard, waiting patiently for him to grab hold. 

“RJ! Where are you!? RJ!?”. Richard could hear Peter from across the room. The light must have pushed him into the shelves when the book opened. He didn’t know what to do. He then heard a whisper.

“Come home. This place isn’t real.” Richard didn’t quite understand. He couldn’t believe that his whole life was a lie, or was the man looking down at him, this man the lie. A figment of his imagination, perhaps? He closed his eyes, counting to three. 

“1… 2… 3.” Richard slowly opened his eyes and looked up. The man was still there. 

“I’m not imagining this, am I?” The man kneeled and touched Richards’ chin with his finger. 

“No, RJ. This is real if you want it to be. Do you want to see?” Richard nodded his head, closed his eyes, and placed his hand in the mans’ hand. The light went away and Richard opened his eyes. He realized quickly, he wasn’t in New York anymore.

He looked up, seeing that the sky was blue, and the clouds formed shapes. He looked down and fell. 

“The floor! It’s a…” 

“Yes, it’s a cloud. Don’t worry you won’t fall.” They stared at each other and burst into laughter as Richard stood up.

 “Where are we?” 

“Mount Olympus, of course!” 

Richard whispers underneath his breath, “Of course.” The man flies up and disappears behind a tall cloud. Richard looks around and wonders where he went. When a gust of wind hits his face and the cloud wall falls. In front of Richard rests Mount Olympus with statues and a field of flowers. Children with wings, some with hoofs, and others with horns all played with a ball while others were in the sky on small clouds watching over them. The man came from up high and stood in front of Richard. 

“We weren’t properly introduced earlier. I am Hermes.” Hermes reaches to shake Richards’ hand. 

“You’re Hermes? Wow. Well, I’m Richard, but everyone calls me RJ.” Richards’ eyes lit up. He’s had dreams of him and yet he’s right there. His eyes were open and still, something didn’t feel right. Despite his gut feeling to go back, he walked in. All the children on the field ran up to Hermes and the children in the clouds glided down.

“Who’s that?” They all whispered as they gathered together when a girl no older than six years of age walked up to Richard.

“What’s your name?” Her eyes sparkled in the sun. Richard looked down at her feet and saw she had hoofs. She had painted them pink.

“My name is Richard. What’s yours?” The little girl ran back into the group giggling and told the others what she found out.

Hermes steps forward, “This is Richard everyone, and you shall treat him with kindness and respect. He may not be here long, but until he leaves, he is under the King’s protection. Understood?”. The little boys and girls gasped at the news and they all agreed. Hermes took Richard through the village to meet everyone else. The shepherd gave Richard a scarf from his sheep’s wool. 

“It’s as soft as a cloud,” Hermes whispers in his ear. The villagers pass by, each with a gift prepared. As if they knew he was here. 

“Did they know I was coming?” 

“Of course everyone knew you were coming. You didn’t think that you opened the book because you wanted to, did you?” Hermes smiles at Richard. He had a feeling something wasn’t right, but now he knows. 

“You belong here. The throne is your birthright. You are staying here.” Hermes gave a welcoming smile to each passing villager and stared into the distance, past the marble walls, over the hedge around the garden, through the clouds and feathered friends, the throne. 

Hermes leans in close, pointing to the throne, "It lies in the dead center of Mount Olympus, where birds chirped to my songs and Zeus swayed with the breeze." He lifts Richard to his shoulders and flies above the village.

"You, are Zeus."