Page 57 of Charmed By Apollo

Akumal’s streets were alive with activity; a vibrant mix of locals went about their daily routines, and tourists explored the town’s charms. Colorful storefronts lined the cobblestone streets, their windows filled with souvenirs and trinkets. Street vendors hawked their wares, their voices mingling with laughter and conversation. She set off down the street, her steps purposeful as she sought the answers she desperately needed. She may have been alone, but she refused to let that stop her from achieving her goal.

Amidst the crowd, she spotted locals dressed in traditional attire, and their faces weathered with the wisdom of generations. They moved with purpose, their footsteps echoing the rhythms of everyday life. Intermingled with the locals were tourists from around the world, their presence adding to the eclectic tapestry of Akumal. They wandered the streets, cameras in hand, eager to capture the town’s magic.

She couldn’t help but feel a sense of urgency. She knew she needed to find a suitable sacrifice for the Maize God, but the busy streets offered little inspiration. What would even be considered an ‘appropriate’ sacrifice?

As she walked farther down the road, her gaze fell upon a beggar kneeling on the pavement, a small dish beside her. The woman did not look well at all. Her skin appeared gaunt and pallid, stretched tightly over protruding bones. Her cheeks were hollow, and dark circles underscored her sunken eyes. Clad in tattered clothes that hung loosely on her emaciated frame, she hunched over, clutching her threadbare shawl tightly around her shivering body. The woman’s movements were slow and labored, betraying the burden of illness she carried.

Geri’s heart twinged with empathy as she observed the woman’s plight. She stared at the beggar, her mind racing with thoughts of potential sacrifices for the Maize God. Her footsteps slowed as she passed the beggar, her mind whirling with conflicting thoughts. The idea of offering the beggar as a sacrifice to the Maize God lingered in her thoughts, unsettling yet oddly intriguing.

Some might say it would be a mercy to end her suffering right now so that she could be free of the pain this cruel world had inflicted on her.

The beggar’s gaze met hers, and in that moment, a flood of memories surged through her mind. She remembered her grandmother’s gentle smile as she handed her a tray of roasted turkey, the savory aroma scenting the air.

“Quickly now, dear,” her grandmother’s voice echoed in her thoughts, urging her to hurry as the line of people waiting patiently for their Thanksgiving Day meal grew.

Her grandmother leaned in close, her voice filled with warmth and wisdom. “Remember, the greatest way to give back is through service,” she reminded Geri gently while they served the food. “We have been blessed with so much, and it is our duty to care for others, especially those in need.”

She nodded, absorbing her grandmother’s words with solemn reverence. Each interaction, each smile exchanged with those they served, reinforced the importance of selflessness and compassion that her grandmother had instilled in her from a young age.

Geri blinked, momentarily lost in the vivid recollection. The memory of her grandmother’s selfless acts of kindness stirred something deep within her, a sense of duty and compassion. She stood frozen for a moment, the weight of her grandmother’s teachings weighing heavily on her conscience. “No,” she whispered to herself, shaking her head as if to dispel the troubling thoughts. “This isn’t right. Grannie wouldn’t want this for me.”

She turned on her heel and hurried back to the hotel with renewed resolve. As she walked, her mind churned with conflicting emotions, but deep down, she knew she couldn’t betray her grandmother’s principles.

She stepped into the hotel lobby, and the concierge, a distinguished gentleman with a warm smile, called out to her. “Miss Geri, a moment of your time, please?”

She turned toward him. “Yes, what is it?” she asked, stepping closer to the desk.

The concierge handed her an envelope with a reassuring nod. “We’ve arranged your flight back to New York, as requested. Everything is taken care of. You just need to tell us when you want to schedule the flight.”

The concierge’s voice cut through Geri’s thoughts, pulling her back to reality. She blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected interruption. “Flight back to New York?” she echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“Yes, miss,” the concierge replied with a polite smile. “Your flight has been arranged per your request. Just let us know when you’d like to depart.”

She took the envelope, her mind still reeling from the turmoil of the past few hours. “Um, thank you,” she murmured, unsure of what else to say. “I’ll…I’ll let you know.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No…yes, actually.” Her thoughts returned to the poor beggar in the street. “Um, there’s this woman outside. I think she’s very sick. Could you please call the nearest hospital or call a doctor to attend to her? And don’t worry about the bill—please put it all on the card I have on file with you.” Surely, gods had no limit on their credit cards?

“Alright, miss.” The concierge picked up the phone receiver. “I’ll do it right now.”

“Thank you!” She turned and rushed to her room, her steps echoing in the empty corridor. The only person, no, being, that could have requested the travel arrangements was Apollo. Emotions swelled within her, and she felt the sting of tears threatening to spill over. Bursting through the door, she collapsed onto the bed, consumed by overwhelming emotions.

Tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked as she buried her face in the pillow, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her chest. Alone in the dimly lit room, she cried herself into an exhausted slumber, seeking the oblivion of sleep.

Chapter 9

Apollo

In the Underworld’s garden, fall cast its enchanting spell, transforming this part of the garden into a breathtaking display of fiery hues and muted tones. The trees stood adorned in a tapestry of crimson, amber, and gold.

A mosaic of fallen leaves carpeted the ground, their earthy scent mingling with the cool, musty air, while shafts of soft, diffused light filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns of shadow and illumination across the ground below. Despite the melancholic beauty of the season, there was an undeniable sense of tranquility that permeated the garden, offering peace to weary souls seeking respite from the trials of the Underworld.

Seated upon a weathered bench, Apollo found himself surrounded by the faded grandeur of fall. He gazed into the distance with a heavy heart, his thoughts consumed by memories of Geri. The echoes of her laughter, the warmth of her touch—each recollection served as a bittersweet reminder of her absence, a void that seemed to grow with each passing moment.

As the spectral souls drifted past, their insubstantial forms stirring no interest in Apollo’s despondent gaze, he yearned for Geri’s presence beside him. Her absence weighed upon him like an anchor, pulling him deeper into the depths of his longing.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes, willing himself to find peace amidst the melancholy beauty of the garden. But try as he might, his thoughts kept returning to Geri, her image haunting him like a ghostly specter in the twilight realm of the Underworld.

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