The Draft

The Draft

Written by Christina Branaman

Humans tend to think that a hero is not born with such characteristics, but rather created through obstacles they face and paths in which they take. This is of course, partly the truth, but the obstacles and paths in which occur are brought upon by the likes of us Gods. Our heroes each hold a specific destiny based on the God who has chosen them. For instance, Hermes and his heroes actively work in delivery and mail carrier positions. Aphrodite holds most of the Miss Universe pageants and her heroes are perhaps the most charitable than any. Unsurprisingly, Zeus paves the way for the best electricians in the world. As for me, Eros, it is crucial for my heroes to be smooth, charismatic, a true seductor and matchmaker. In other words, my heroes must keep love alive.

Yes, it is true that us Gods do indeed get to choose our heroes. Every year, Olympus holds a Hero Draft. We are given thousands of options for heroes to train and put on the path of our very own destiny, and as a result, their own destiny. The draft order changes each year based on the success of last year’s hero training. Last year, according to the numbers, my hero trainee initiated over 100 long term romantic relationships. Both him and I were highly rewarded for our successes, but in the eyes of the draft, I will receive one of the last picks of the event. This does not worry me as much as the other Gods think it does. I am confident that no matter who I end up with in this year’s draft, I will maintain my success and fulfill my destiny.

As the day finally approached, I was content watching each of the other gods and goddesses choosing their heroes. The screens were set up with live footage of each potential hero following them in real time. Each one completely unaware that they were taking part in one of the most significant events of the year. The first up to choose was Demeter, goddess of Agriculture. Times at the farm on earth were lackluster the previous year not to the fault of her or her hero, the land simply could not handle the drastic weather and droughts. Demeter chose a young man with the name of Donny. Donny was in the middle of a farm somewhere driving a tractor with a cigar in his mouth. He wore overalls that were patched up and down the leg and large boots covered in mud and dirt. Not the most conventionally attractive fellow, but certainly wouldn’t be a challenge to matchmake with the talents of my heroes.

 Next came Hypnos, God of sleep. Once again, numbers seemed to indicate that humans had lost sleep over the year and it was really causing a ripple effect to the other heroes’ destinies. Hypnos chose a young man named Clark. Clark was shown sitting in an office talking to another individual while he wrote down notes. It was presumed that Clark was some sort of Doctor and that seemed to line up with Hypnos’s plan of studying what causes lack of sleep.

 Eventually it was Aphrodite’s turn to choose. Her hero was just as beautiful and considerate as the heroes before her. Candace, a tall young woman with ebony skin, black hair braided down her back, and piercing green eyes. Oftentimes, one could forget that Aphrodite’s  heroes were even human because of how ethereal they were.

Gods and Goddesses one after another chose from the hero pool one by one, until it was finally my choice of hero. Collectively, we had gone from one thousand heroes to 12 possible candidates. However, based on my credentials being the god of love and procreation, my candidates were whittled down to one. I had previously been so confident in my ability to train anyone that fate could give me, but when the video on the screen showed a scrawny, unkempt, man in his mid thirties playing video games in a basement, I began to feel uneasy.

“Curtis Flemmings, will now be trained by the reigning champion, Eros” Zeus declared to the crowded room of my peers who were laughing and muttering jokes under their breath. 

“You’ve got to love the draft. Hey, at least there’s next year!” Hermes shouted which was met with more laughter from the crowd.

Frustrated by the disrespect, I stood tall and cleared my throat, “I have no doubt in my abilities, let us not forget who has bonded more humans together in the past 365 days. I have earned your respect and will continue to fulfill my destiny.”

The draft came to an end and the first day of this year’s training had officially commenced. I began my month-long  observation of Curtis. Though, by the second day, I had pretty much memorized his schedule. He usually slept in until 8 am after snoozing six alarms, grabbed a pair of blue jeans, a faded t-shirt, and white socks from his dirty laundry basket, then put on his five year old torn converse sneakers, glasses, and was out the door for work. Once at work. Curtis sat down in his small cubicle and read through emails for two hours, took a lunch break where he sat alone, and spent the rest of the work day tossing paper balls into the garbage can. Curtis clocked out precisely at 5:00 pm and made his way home to order a pizza for dinner, pack a lunch for the next day, and play video games until he went to bed at 1am. I watched this footage each day and it seemed as if it were actually the same day on replay. I wouldn’t dare tell a soul, but I was beginning to worry. How was I supposed to turn this “man” into a hero responsible for the destiny of love on earth?

After four weeks of observation, it was time to put a plan in place. As God’s we are only allowed to affect our heroes path or obstacles, not the hero themselves. For example, my attempts to interfere with Curtis’s phone alarm, leave flyers on his car for the laundromat nearby, and conveniently let him sit at a red light near the local shoe store were all left unsuccessful. I became even more frustrated. If this man could not take care of himself, how could he orchestrate something as delicate and crucial as love? Only one thought had come to mind and I was going to need help.

As I’ve explained, us Gods are not allowed to interfere with our heroes or trainees for that matter. However, we can ask help from other God’s heroes. I spoke with Aphrodite and she had agreed to send one of her heroes on my quest. Jasmine, a young lady who had done well as a trainee, was to arrive at Curtis’s office during lunch break to simply hold a conversation.. Sure, Jasmine was beautiful, but not in an off putting way. She was kind, down to earth, and easy to speak with. Surely, I thought, Curtis would feel some sort of chemistry. I watched with Aphrodite as the quest unfolded.

“Good morning,” Jasmine said with a smile as she entered the nearly empty lunchroom.

Curtis, the only one in the room, looked up from his phone and nodded, “sup” he mumbled.

Slightly caught off guard, Jasmine giggled quietly and moved towards Curtis’s table “Mind if I sit here?” She asked, already placing her lunchbox down. Curtis nodded without saying a word.

“So, what are you watching?” She asked. 

“Just some streamer” Curtis responded barely audibly.

Jasmine sighed, seemingly exhausted by the interaction, “That’s really cool. Hey, so, I’m new here, I was wondering if you could show me around?” She asked.

Curtis looked up confused “Oh uh, no thanks” He muttered.

Jasmine, looking distraught, took her approach up a notch, “Let me just cut to the chase, I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight, like a date?” she asked, sounding much more annoyed than usual.

Once again, Curtis looked up from his phone “Oh, thanks, but no thanks. You’re not really my type” He said and went back to staring at his phone.

Jasmine’s eye twitched and Aphrodite gasped. It was unheard of to decline a hero as talented and beautiful as Jasmine. I informed Aphrodite the quest was over and paid her and Jasmine for their time. 

Before Aphrodite left, she looked me right in the eyes and said “good luck, you’ll need it”.

Aphrodite was right, I did need all the luck I could get. It had now been six months and the only progress made with Curtis had been a few visits to the laundromat and a simple wave hello to the 80 year old woman that worked there. The pressure was building within me. I turned on the screen once again to build a path, throw some obstacles, and pray to myself. 

Curtis was at the laundromat washing his clothes just as ordinarily as the other humans. The laundromat was busier than usual and right beside Curtis was a young woman around his age wearing pink scrubs and a ponytail.

“Excuse me, is this yours?” She asked, holding up a blue sock from the ground.

Curtis turned his head as if he were a turtle and pondered the sock, “It isn’t” He said and continued stuffing clothing in his laundry basket. My head immediately fell to my chest in annoyance.

“Hey man, are you done with this machine?” a tall man in dark blue jeans and a gray t-shirt asked Curtis, which was met with a nod as Curtis wandered away with his basket.

“A man of many words” The man said to the woman in scrubs beside him.

She laughed shaking her head, “Sometimes you just never know who you’ll run into”

It was a miracle in the making. I felt the chemistry begin to build as conversation continued, numbers were exchanged, and flirtations arose. Somehow, some way, Curtis had bonded two people over neighboring washing machines. It wasn't the conventional way of love, but it counted. 

In fact, I grew accustomed to the formula needed for Curtis to truly succeed. Little by little, Curtis was building three relationships a day. People who bonded over his awkwardness, strange habits, and conversations of his fashion choices. Whether it was the lunchroom, laundromat, or the pizza parlor, Curtis had made such a drastic change in love within his small town. Thankfully, both of our fates had been fulfilled. Thankfully, I had the first pick of the draft for the next year.

The End