Fathoms Below

Penelope anticipated very little to come of her trip to Ithaca.

As she sat on a ferry boat heading towards the island, the winds were steady and true, the crystaline waves gently lapped at the sides of the ferry, Penelope had a sketchbook in her hands, attempting to capture the scene before her. Her fingers were stained with charcoal from her meager attempts to replicate the coastline before her. She sighed, leaning back against her seat and glancing at the older woman sitting across from her.

Penelope’s gia didn’t want to come. In fact, she’d so wholly been against the idea, digging in her heels and protesting during preparations. Penelope and her mother tried to explain that if gia didn’t want to come, she didn’t have to. But now, she sat on the boat wearing a sunhat and a floral shirt, muttering in Greek the entire time as she looked nervously out at the ocean.

Sophia, Penelopes mother, didn’t really understand what the problem was. Penelope kind of got it though. Her gia came to America from Greece when she was very young, so many of the old stories were still deeply ingrained. She came from the coastline closest to Ithaca and whenever she spoke of it, she did so with reverence of the old gods.

The Pantheon.

There were so many stories, many tales which came from Greece. Penelope was no stranger to those stories. After all, her name directly came from the myths of Odysseus, a family name passed through generations. Her mothers middle name was Penelope, her gia’s middle name was Penelope, and so on.

Her gia, Eleni, liked to tell the stories of their family lineage, the tales behginning long before Penelope’s memories could remember and register the moments.

Queen Penelope and King Odysseus were strong, she would say. They took the will of the gods and they made it their own. They did not forget where they came from and their blood runs through out veins. Never forget who you are, Penelope. You can be whatever you wish.

Apparently what Penelope wanted to be was as starving artist. She’d put in the hours, long nights at the studio pouring her blood, sweat, and tears into her craft. She tested mediums, found her favorite in oils, and went to work.

Art, unfortunately is subjective. So while she passed her classes, there were still so many hurdles she had to overcome to become the artist she dreamed of. It didn’t help that most of her art was inspired by her sleeping hours.

From a young age, Penelope dreams and nightmares haunted her nights. Flashes of the stormy seas, castles gleaming in the sunlight. Gia said it was because the blood of old kings and queens ran through her veins, a sign that the stories and legends were true.

Penelope knew better. As an avid reader on top of being an artist, she’d always loved fantasy books and the mythologies of old. Those dreams and nightmares were nothing more than a child internalizing the books she read. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Den prépei na eímaste edó,” Gia hissed at Penelope’s mother.

Sophia rolled her eyes in a long suffering way. “Eísai trelós kai tha eímaste kalá.”

Penelope filed the conversation away in the back of her mind, eyes sliding back to the ocean. Eleni truly believed they should not be there. And Sophia truly believed her mother was batshit crazy for it.

Attempting to tune them out, Penelope put away her art supplies and pulled out a book to read. Considering they were travelling somewhere mentioned in Greek Mythology, Penelope decided to bring her well loved copy of the Odyssey with her on the trip.

She’d read it a million time at this point, knowing the words by heart but still loving the journey.

The boat rocked and Penelope felt a spray of water hit her in the back. The waters were becoming restless the closer the closer the boat came to Ithaca and Penelope looked to the slightly darkening skies.

Storms were moving in. Strange, since the last time she checked the weather, there were no outlooks mentioning incliment conditions. But she imagined weather could come out of seemingly nowhere on the ocean, hence the many legends of sea gods. There wasn’t anything to worry about as far as Penelope was concerned.

The ferry finally docked, ropes being thrown to secure the boat to the port. It swayed side to side a little violently as the boat hit the dock. But otherwise, the passengers were unharmed and ready to begin their vacation.

Standing up, Penelope tucked her book back into her tote bag and slung it onto her shoulder. Eleni hesitated as they disembarked, standing at the line between the boat and the dock with wary eyes.

“C’mon, Gia" Penelope said, sounding more like an attempt to get a scared animal off the boat rather than a full grown woman.

With a curse under her breath, Eleni stepped off the boat and placed both feet on the dock.

Penelope raised her eyebrow gave a good natured tease. “And the world still turns. You worry too much, gia."

“And you don’t worry enough,” she sighed, still looking unsure. But Eleni still let Sophia and Penelope manhandle her bags off the ferry as she watched the island and ocean.

“This is a terrible idea,” shemumbled, making her case one more time before the trio lef the dock. She linked her arm with Sophia as they walked the length of the pier. Penelope carried two backpacks and dragged two roll along cases behind her. They moved with slow steps, matching Eleni’s pace as they approached the shore.

The island was beautiful as far as Penelope could see. She already knew the waters were gorgeous, even with rough seas. The ferry docked in a small bay and now, white homes with terra cotta rooftops surrounded them. Penelope could spot a small cafe from where they came up the dock, blue and white table sets sitting outside. The umbrellas were down, likely a side effect of the windy weather.

The rental home they’d reserved sat directly on the coastline, a little treat to themselves.

Penelope was glad for it. She loved the ocean. The way the water moved, the way it slides and drips, the way it could be calm and serene. Or alternatively, it could be vicious and violent.

There were so many interpretations of the water. It became Penelope’s preferred muse for a reason, her favorite scene to paint. Various depictions of the ocean were scattered about her studio and now, seeing how beautiful Ithaca was, she just knew this place would be her next muse.

Sophia and Eleni were talking in low tones behind her, pointing to places on the landscape as they walked. Penelope followed their fingers, noticing a sprinkling of people in scuba. Sophia always wanted to try scuba diving. Penelope hoped they would be able to give it a shot while on the island. What a memory that would be.

As they approached the end of the pier, several statues caught Penelope’s attention. She was drawn to one in particular and stepped closer, the eyes of an artist taking in the sculpture.

Poseidon.

Penelope always had a strange fascination with the god of the seas and seeing the statue of him up close only fueled the fire. The carvings were perfect, precise. The trident held by strong hands shimmered in the clouded light, as if Poseidon himself were about to the throw the weapon.

Unwittingly, one hand stretched out to touch the marble. A small spark of static shocked Penelope for her troubles. “Ouch! Motherf-”

“Have you called a driver yet?” Eleni called and Penelope shook her head.

“It’s not far. Just up the street. Calling a driver would take longer than just walking there.”

Eleni took a deep breath and nodded. “I would love to get away from the ocean. Let’s move.”

Penelope shared a look with her mother behind Eleni’s back, silently asking if the older woman was aware they were staying in a villa on the ocean? Sophia shook her head lightly and Penelope sighed, trudging after the pair.

They wouldn’t be hearing the end of this anytime soon.

* * * * *

The vacation rental looked exactly as Penelope would have imagined a greek villa looked like. Of course, they checked the pictures online before clicking the confirm button, but nothing compared to seeing it in perosn. There were three levels, all connected by an outdoor staircase. Two of the three levels had a patio the lower most level housing a swimming pool.

Although, why someone would use the pool instead of the ocean Penelope would never understand.

The inside was just as luxurious, with vaulted ceilings and cream colored walls. Each bedroom sported a small balcony, just enough to open the doors in the morning and sit with coffee.

Eleni and Sophia began exploring the kitchen, chattering about the dishes they could make while Penelope decided to lay claim to a bedroom and explore a bit.

She found one she liked on the upper floor. Grays and blues colored the room instead of creams and whites, ocean blue bedding covering the queen sized mattress. Seashells were carved into the doorframes and it occured to Penelope a little late that the rooms were likely all themed. She would need to investigate that later. It would be a charming little detail to add to their review of the rental later.

Standing there, Penelope could already see herself sitting on the patios, on the balconies, sketchbook in hand. She could envision the stormy waters sketched out on her paper, charchoal smeared on her fingertips and a light in her eyes.

Stepping outside onto the balcony of her chosen room, Penelope leaned on the railing. People were on the beach, splayed out and getting the last bits of sunshine before the clouds truly took over. The beach was beautiful, the most gloriously colored sand stretching out for miles. White foam pooled where ocean met land, lapping up onto the shore with every wave.

Her eyes raked over the scene, drinking in the rich colors and vivid imagery. The inspiration at this location would be bountiful and she couldn’t wait to get started.

This vacation would be absolutely perfect.

* * * * *

Unfortunately, the weather worsened over the course of the next two days. Unexplained rough seas, thunderous roars of the waves. The rain wouldn’t cease. Warnings were posted all along the coastline and the beaches were mostly closed down due to the weather.

Penelope watched from her balcony doors as drops of rain poured from the skies. Her hand pressed against the window, the colliding heat and chill forming an outline around her hand. It was late, far later than Penelope liked to be up.

But something kept tugging at her, forcing her back to the window. Every time she got cozy, ready for lights out, her eyes would pop back open. She would roll over, stare at the window for a few minutes and then finally get back out of bed.

She could almost hear her name being called, could feel the tug in her chest urging her out of the villa. Penelope couldn’t understand the urge, couldn’t put voice to the desire to leave.

What good could possibly come from leaving the house in pouring rain? Shaking her head, Penelope backed away from the doors once more. Maybe she just needed a snack. Something to sooth the frantic running of her mind.

She left her room, heading down the stairs. Her mother and gia were already asleep, safely tucked into their beds and letting the storm lull them to sleep. Penelope was honestly surprised her gia slept at all with all the talk of legends.

Penelope passed the kitchen table where they played cards earlier in the night. Eleni schooled them both in gin rummy and Penelope was thankful all she put in the betting pool were cookies she helped bake before the card game.

Letting loose a small smile, Penelope opened the fridge, searching for leftovers. Maybe a midnight snack would do the trick. She felt…something. Something she couldn’t explain. Penelope couldn’t decide whether it was hunger or the desire for inspiration, but it kept sleep at bay.

Pulling out the snacks from earlier, Penelope felt a chill go down her smile. She frowned, shivering all over and setting down her haul before she dropped it on accident. Opening the bag of chips, she scooped out the dip Sophia made for their card game and chomped it down. She could already feel her nerves settling down and sighed.

Maybe Penelope was just feeling stir crazy. After all, she had the chance to vacation on a scenic island for twelve days and the first three were spent inside due to the weather. She wanted to explore, to discover nooks and crannies of the island. She wanted to have coffee and pastries at the small cafe she spotted the first day on the island.

It would have been the ideal spot to sketch, to maybe bring out the paints she packed. But the weather squashed any hopes and dreams she had of being the envy of every artist she knew back home.

The tug in Penelope’s chest grew more insistent and she groaned, dropping her handful of chips back into the bowl and bracing herself against the kitchen island. She looked to the sliding door leading off to the patio.

A few minutes wouldn’t hurt. And maybe standing in the rain for a bit would do Penelope some good. Provided she didn’t get struck by lightening. But surely Zeus had better things to do with his time than waste lightening bolts on me.

Penelope stepped out of the rented home, sliding the door shut behind her and clutching her robe tightly around her body. She wasn’t entirely sure what good it would do, what the robe could possibly protect her from. The robe did little to warm her, let alone shield her from the elements. She brought it in the first place for the light breathable fabric she thought would be needed for the sunny days spent lazing around the villa.

Taking the stairs one by one at a speed probably not advisable for the weather conditions, Penelope made her way down to the beach. She was determed to make it to the ocean, to standing in the rippling current washing upon the coast.

Something inside of her needed to be there, needed to feel teh salt water spray on her skin.

Picking her way through the rocky spots just before the sand, Penelope padded onto the shore. She closed her eyes, letting the salty wind rip through her long, dark hair. The curls would be a bitch to comb out later, but at the moment, it just felt so good.

The rain slowed down, tapering off into a light mist. It felt pleasant, soft, and almost comforting. Penelope opened her eyes and started to walk down the beach. Hopefully no one would be upset at her coming down when it was close,d but she just needed to get out of the house.

She was not the only one. In the distance, she could see a figure standing waist deep in teh water and quietly padded closer. The clouds finally started to break apart, the moon peeking through the clouds as she got clsoer to the figure.

A man. It was a man standing out there in the water in the middle of the night. And that was just stupid. “Hey! It’s dangerous out there!”

He didn’t move, only watching the ocean. Finally, he turned, slow and steady. His hair hung around his shoulder blades, wavy adn dark. He was shirtless, muscled and toned body on display. Something about the man unnerved Penelope, an insticutal part of her mind telling her danger lurked.

She could feel him staring at her, as if searching through her thoughts, her family, her life.

Sucking in a breath, Penelope called out, “Well, don’t die or anything. Have a nice night.”

And what a thing to say to a man crazy enough to standing out in the middle of the ocean at all hours of the night. Although, standing there in her soaking wet sleeping clothes, maybe Penelopes wasn’t the best judge of character.

His eyes began to shine in the moonlight, almost glowing a vivid and stormy blue. He began to wade towards Penelope, easily cutting through the water with his strides. Penelope distantly registered through the panic that the ocean moved for him and her eyes widened. Water split, making room for the man and displaying the ocean floor beneath.

Penelope found she couldn’t even enjoy the view. She was frozen, watching this man approach until he stood right in front of her. He was tall, at least six foot, and it made her feel small by comparison. The water moved, undulating and swirling until it surrounded them.

Resisting the urge to smack her face, Penelope stood tall. A dream. This was only a dream. She’d had many before and this would just be another tally in the box.

Then he spoke and Penelope could feel her heart drop into her stomach.

“Daughter of Ithaca, Heir of Odysseus. You’ve finally returned.”