Page 158 of Burn Bright
“Try something harder,” Charlie suggests and not nicely.
“It was meant to be easy,” she retorts, stabbing a carrot with her fork.
Charlie opens his mouth, but Mom cuts him off quickly, “What was Dionysus’ name before he was resurrected?”
“Zagreus,” Eliot slices goose on his plate with a knife. “Thank you for the soft ball, Mom.”
“She’s just ensuring I won’t win,” Dad grins at her from across the table. “Isn’t that right, Rose?”
Mom doesn’t deny. “I’m sure Dionysus will appear on Ben’s exam. I’m helping our youngest son pass a college course.”
“Two birds, one stone,” Dad says.
Audrey pipes in, “Can we not inflict pain upon a bird, even metaphorically?” She casts a kind look to me, and I smile over at my sister.
“Yes,Richard,” Mom says, “leave the murdering of fowl out of dinner conversation.”
His brow arches. “Because the dismemberment of people is better?”
“I’ve yet to rip out your tongue, but don’t push me. There is always time to curse you with eternal silence.”
“Which would displease you most of all.”
We drum the floor with our feet, and Mom’s smile is enough to cause most of us to grin. Yeah, I do not know how to leave this behind. I really, really don’t.I have to.Don’t I?
“In Greek mythology,” Charlie says while picking up his wine, “Pandora was given a jar containing all the evils known to mankind. When she unleashed it upon humanity—what was the only thing left inside?”
“Hope,” Mom says, her eyes meeting mine.
My pulse tries to skip. I break apart my seitan, not eating much, because now I’m thinking I should tell them about the frat. Tonight. Withholding my meeting with the estate lawyer just caused more drama and speculation. It’s better if they know I’m moving out soon.
“Wait, it’s not a jar,” Tom says to Charlie. “It’s abox.Pandora’sbox, dude.”
“Pithos,” Dad explains. “It’s the Greek term used in Hesiod’s writing, which refers to ajar.The kind used for grain, wine, oil.”
Mom further clarifies, “It was mistranslated later aspyxis.Which means small box.”
“Oh I have one,” Jane straightens up, then washes down her bite of food with water. “What are the goddesses of the seasons?”
“The Horae,” I’m able to say before Charlie. “Or Hours. They personify the four changing seasons and the passage of time.” The cycle of human life.
“Well done, Pippy,” Jane beams, jotting down a point for me.
Eliot creaks back in his chair. “Greek mythos: Which of the rivers of the Underworld is the River of Woe?”
“Acheron,” Dad says smoothly.
“Not Styx?” Audrey frowns.
“No,” Charlie looks over at her. “Some Roman poets will reference this to Styx, but he said Greek.”
Eliot leans forward to explain, “Acheron is the river associated with pain, sorrow, and woe. It’s the river the dead must cross to enter Hades, little sister.”
“Of course, I knew that part,” Audrey says pointedly. “I’msixteen, not twelve.”
“Here we go again,” Tom mutters into a big gulp of wine.
Dad manages to keep us on track, and I have to wait until the game ends to surface the frat. I’m a little jittery, but I’m relieved when Jane finally decrees Mom as the winner, Charliein second, and Dad in third, only partially due to Mom soft-balling questions toward those of us who’d know hers before Dad could answer them.
