Zeus on the Loose Page 2

  “It’s this: that sandwich smells great! Go on, pour on the ketchup and share it out!”

  That’s my dad for you. I think he taught me to use the microwave so there’d be more food for him.

  “Can’t have the hamster on the table, though. Come on, little fella, into your cage.” He reached out and lifted Zeus up. “Ow! That’s weird! Felt like a little electric shock there! You been rubbing this hamster on a balloon, Alex?” And he carried Zeus upstairs and back to the cage – not noticing the angry little flashes of lightning round the hamster’s head.

  Chapter Three

  The War of Troy

  As you can imagine, I was pretty tired by the time I got to school. I’d tried to get back to sleep after Dad and I finished eating the sacrifice, but Zeus was sulking in the hamster-cage – and sulking pretty loudly, for a hamster.

  “No way to treat the King of the Gods, that’s for sure,” he kept saying in a little hamsterish voice. “Anyway, nobody except the priest is meant to eat the sacrifice. Blasphemy, that’s what it is. Ought to smite him. Well – tried to smite him. Not my fault if hamsters can’t smite properly …”

  And so on. And so on. So that I didn’t get a wink of sleep between then and school-time.

  I had to get to school early that morning. I had to put my new temple where the old one had been, before Miss Wise got in. Zeus was still grumbling when we got to the classroom.

  “I’ll show him … next time, I’ll be a guinea pig!” he was saying as I swapped the temples, stuffing the old battered one into my pocket. “Bet guinea pigs are better at smiting …

  No, not guinea pigs – electric eels. I always get those two mixed up. Oooh, yeah, I’ll be an electric eel, a really big one, and then when he picks me up I’ll smite him good and proper! He’ll think twice before putting me in a cage halfway through a sacrifice …”

  And so on. And so on.

  It got worse when lining-up time came.

  You see, we’d decided that I couldn’t keep a hamster hidden all day, so he turned himself into some kind of bug. I didn’t ask what sort. I didn’t even look when he did it because then he hid himself in my ear. I was really worried someone else would see and go, “Eeeeurgh! Alex has a bug in his ear!”

  What really really worried me was that Hélène would see and go, “Eeeeurgh! Alex has a bug in his ear!”

  Hélène only came to our school about a week ago. She’s from France. Miss Wise put her next to me on the carpet because I knew the French for “Hello, how are you?”

  Actually, Hélène probably doesn’t know the English for ‘bug’, but it would be so embarrassing if she saw Zeus and thought that I’d got nits.

  Anyway, we went into school, and sat on the carpet. And all the time, Zeus was still going on and on and on. It was maddening, especially as I couldn’t say anything, because:

  1) Miss Wise would think I was talking to one of the other kids and tell me off, and what could I say? I could hardly tell her, “Sorry, miss, I have a Greek god in my ear disguised as a beetle and he won’t stop going on and on about smiting my dad for putting him in a cage and eating his bacon sandwich.”

  2) Hélène might think I was nuts, muttering to myself, and then she might make a fuss about sitting next to me, and that would be really embarrassing.

  Then, after the register, Miss Wise started reading from The Book of Greek Myths and Legends, and that got really difficult because Zeus started making comments.

  The first bit she read went like this: “‘It is my will and my desire,’ said the mighty Zeus, High King of the Gods on Olympus, ‘to cause the glorious war of Troy, which shall be remembered for all time.’”

  “Oooh,” Zeus whispered in my ear, “I didn’t say it half so well as that! All I remember saying was, ‘It’s been a while since we saw a good punch-up. Let’s get the Greeks started on the Trojans.’”

  Miss Wise went on: “Zeus called for Ares, the god of war, and ordered him to ready himself for the conflict, which should be the greatest ever known. ‘It is my duty and my pleasure to obey, O Most High,’ Ares replied.”

  “He never!” Zeus said. “He’s a right moaning minnie, that Ares. What he actually said was, ‘Oh, do I have to? I was looking forward to having a nice rest at the seaside this year! All that screaming and shouting humans do when they’re killing each other gives me a right headache sometimes!’ He went on and on and on …”

  It was a good story. What happened was that this Greek prince married the most beautiful woman in the world. She was called Helen. But Paris, the prince of Troy, fell in love with Helen and took her back to Troy with him. Then all the Greek princes ganged up together and went and had a war with Paris and the Trojans (they were the people who lived in Troy). They fought for ten years but the Greeks couldn’t get into Troy because it had this big high wall all round it. So then the Greeks played a trick on the Trojans.

  One morning, the Trojans woke up and saw that all the Greek soldiers had gone, and so had their ships, but they’d left a huge wooden horse. So they sent out a few soldiers to investigate. The soldiers came back and said the Greeks had definitely sailed away but they’d built this horse as a present for Poseidon, the god of the sea, so he’d get them home safely. I don’t know why a sea-god wants a big wooden horse, but anyway: the Trojans thought if they took the horse inside their city, Poseidon would bring them good luck, so that’s what they did.

  But some Greek soldiers were hiding inside the horse, and when it was night and the Trojans were asleep they came out and opened the city gates. Then all the other Greeks, who’d sneaked back, came in and they killed the Trojans and won the war.

  Miss Wise read the story really well, and then we did some work about describing words. I thought of a few words to describe Zeus – who was still going on and on and on – but Miss Wise would have kept me in at playtime if I’d used them.

  I wish she had. It was at playtime that the trouble really started.

  I had to tell Charlie about telling my parents he’d lent me the hamster – in case they saw him and said anything about it. And then I had to tell him about Zeus. And of course he didn’t believe me, so I had to ask Zeus to come out of my ear – which gave me a break from all the muttering, anyway – and turn back into a hamster.

  Charlie was so amazed he couldn’t say a word. And then the hamster sat up straight, and said, “It is my will and my desire to cause the glorious war of Troy, which shall be remembered for all time. Or at least till playtime tomorrow.”

  I didn’t like that last bit.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well,” Zeus said, “it’s been ages since I saw a decent fight. And I can’t really start one like the last war of Troy without Ares to give me a hand, but I reckon we can get a bit of a scrap going over that pretty little girl you were sitting next to. What’s her name?”

  I didn’t really want to get into this, but Charlie – still gobsmacked – said, “Hélène. She’s French.”

  Zeus was really pleased at this.

  “Hélène! Perfect!” he said, clapping his little paws together. “Or nearly. ‘Helen’ would be better, but beggars can’t be choosers. Now, what about that kid who prayed to me? What’s his name?”

  That got me really worried.

  “Leave Troy out of this,” I said. “He’ll be in real trouble if he gets into a fight …”

  “Troy?” Zeus squeaked. “That’s not right! Troy’s the city, not a person! Why isn’t he called Paris?”

  “No,” Charlie said, “Paris is a city. It’s in France.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Nelly No-Brain,” Zeus insisted. “I’ve done this before, and anyway, I’m a god and you’re not. Just listen: Troy is a city, and Paris comes and takes Helen there and then we start a fight. OK?”

  “Charlie’s right,” I said. “Troy’s the boy and Paris is the city. That’s where Hélène comes from – Paris.”

  Zeus stamped his little hamster-foot. �
�No, no, no,” he complained, “this is all wrong. Weren’t you idiots listening to the story? What’s supposed to happen is that Paris takes Helen to Troy. How can he do that if he’s a city and Troy isn’t? And even if we change it round, Troy can’t take Hélène to Paris if that’s where she’s from in the first place! You lot are spoiling my war and it’s not fair!”

  And with that, he suddenly changed from hamster-shape back into a bearded man in a bed-sheet.

  “I’m fed up with being a hamster,” he announced, “and I’m jolly well going to have a war. So there.”

  And he marched out into the middle of the playground and said in that window-rattling voice:

  “HEAR ME, O MORTAL CHILDREN! I AM THE GREAT AND MIGHTY ZEUS! IT IS MY WILL AND MY DESIRE TO CAUSE THE GLORIOUS WAR OF TROY …”

  Chapter Four

  Not the War of Troy

  I think he was expecting everyone to stand still and listen. But what would you do, if you were having your playtime and this great big loony in a bed-sheet marched out into the playground and started yelling in a voice that made the ground shake?

  You’d do what everyone in my school did. You’d run.

  And you’d scream.

  Suddenly you couldn’t hear what Zeus was saying because of the noise of about 300 children all screaming at once and the teacher on duty blowing her whistle like mad to try to get everyone indoors. It was completely crazy.

  Charlie and I ran up to Zeus to try and get him away from there.

  “LISTEN, O MORTAL CHILDREN!” he was booming. “I SAID, LISTEN! OH, FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE, STOP THAT NOISE AND LISTEN! BELT UP!”

  “They can’t hear you!” I yelled at him. “You’re scaring them! Turn back into a hamster, quick!”

  “Shan’t!” he grumbled. “I’m fed up with being a silly old hamster. Anyway, all I wanted was a decent war. What did they have to go screaming and yelling for?”

  “Please!” I said. “The teachers will be calling the police to arrest you!”

  “Don’t care,” Zeus replied huffily. “Anyone tries to arrest me, I’ll smite them!” Lightning flashed dangerously round his head.

  By this time, the screaming children had all raced towards the doors of the school and were trying to get in. The teachers were all busy trying to make sure no one got crushed or trampled in the rush. I reckoned we had a couple of minutes before they noticed that Charlie and I were talking to the nutter in the sheet.

  “Charlie!” I said, taking the old battered temple out of my pocket and shoving it on my head. “Quick! Give me your playtime snack!”

  Normally, no one stood a chance of getting Charlie’s snack away from him, but this time he handed it over without a peep. He was still pretty dazed by the whole thing, I think.

  It was a bag of crisps. I looked at the flavour on the packet, and couldn’t believe my luck. Quickly, I held the bag under Zeus’s nose and opened it.

  “Oh, great and mighty Zeus,” I gabbled, “in your honour I sacrifice this bag of roast beef – er – roast bull flavour crisps and beg you in your wisdom to take us somewhere quiet where we can talk about this!”

  Zeus looked down and sniffed. His face brightened and the lightning stopped flashing round his forehead.

  “Oh, OK,” he said. And suddenly the three of us were standing in the boys’ toilets.

  “Great smell!” Zeus said. “The crisps, I mean, not the toilets. OK, get on with the prayer.”

  So I prayed this long prayer about how I begged Zeus not to start a war, and to let us live in peace, and about how war was generally a Bad Thing, and do you know what he said?

  “OK, Alex, nice prayer, great sacrifice, now let’s get on with the war.”

  “Weren’t you listening?” I demanded.

  “Not really, no. I was smelling the sacrifice. Sometimes I just use the prayer as sort of background music. Anyway, I reckon we could divide the school into two armies. Big kids against little kids, maybe, or boys against girls …”

  “Children against teachers?” Charlie suggested. I elbowed him in the ribs and told him to shut up. It was bad enough having a loopy Greek god on my hands without my best friend joining in too.

  “Zeus,” I said, “listen to me. We are not going to have a war. Even calling each other rude names is against the rules in this school. If we have a war, Miss Wise will keep the whole class in at playtime for the rest of our lives!”

  “Not the ones who get killed,” Zeus said.

  “Zeus! No one is going to get killed. Don’t you get it? We’re not soldiers, we’re kids! Our teachers wouldn’t let us have a war even if we wanted one – and we don’t want one!”

  “Oh, boo-hoo, Sally Spoilsport!” Zeus said, rudely. “Where’s your sense of history? Don’t you want people to sing about your glorious death for years to come?”

  “I’d rather have a glorious life for years to come, thanks. Or any kind of life, really. Anyway, we’ve got to get back to class.”

  Zeus shook his head.

  “Not till we’ve done the wooden horse bit,” he said. “If we can’t have the war, I insist we at least have someone hiding inside a wooden horse.”

  “We can’t,” I said. “We’ll get into trouble!”

  “Listen, mortal,” he hissed, “either we do the wooden horse bit or I start smiting! So there!” Lightning flashed around his forehead again, and there was a distant rumble.

  “Sorry,” said Charlie, holding his stomach. “Can I have my crisps back now?”

  “They’re not yours, they’re mine,” Zeus snapped. “My High Priest sacrificed them to me, remember? And only the High Priest can eat the sacrifice. Now, where’s the wooden horse?”

  “All right,” I sighed. “Come on, then.”

  We went to the gym.

  “Here it is,” I said. “It’s called a vaulting horse. We jump over it in PE.”

  “Vaulting horse?” Zeus said. “Revolting horse, more like! It’s just a big wooden box with a cushion on it! We can’t finish a war we’re not actually going to have with the Big Wooden Box With A Cushion On It of Troy! That’s just stupid! Come on, get me a proper wooden horse at once, and then let’s get it outside the walls.”

  I was getting really cross now.

  “Where do you expect me to get a proper wooden horse from?” I snapped. “I’m not a carpenter!

  Miss Wise won’t even let us use a craft knife until next term, never mind a saw! This is the best we can do. And as for getting it outside the walls – the story said the horse was outside the walls of Troy. Well, Troy’s in the classroom, and we’re outside the classroom walls, so that’ll have to do.”

  “But they’re not going to bring it into the classroom, are they?” Zeus growled. “We’re not doing it properly if they don’t bring it inside the walls.”

  I sighed.

  “Look, Zeus,” I said, “I have got to get back to class and give Miss Wise an excuse for Charlie being missing before she calls the police.”

  “Hang on!” Charlie said. “Why can’t I give her an excuse for you not being there?”

  “Such as?” I asked.

  “Er … you’re with a Greek god who’s making you get inside a wooden horse?”

  “That’s why,” I told him. “She’s never going to believe that. Just get into the horse and pretend to be a Greek soldier. We’ll come and find you in a bit, and you can say you hid here because you were so scared of the loony in the bed-sheet.”

  I went back to class, feeling a bit worried. I wasn’t sure what Miss Wise would say – about me being missing from class and everything. I pushed the door open nervously and everyone turned to look.

  And then they all started laughing. I couldn’t believe it. What could possibly be so funny? Hélène was giggling, Sam was snorting, Troy was laughing so much he nearly fell off his chair …

  And then Miss Wise rolled her eyes and said, “Alex! What are you doing with that model temple on your head?”

  Chapter Five

  The Woo
den Horse of Troy

  I snatched the temple off my head and stuffed it in my pocket. Then I had to stand there for ages feeling embarrassed and waiting for everyone to stop laughing. At least it gave me time to think up an excuse – about Charlie feeling ill and me taking him to the toilets – but I never got to use it, because just as everyone was quietening down and Miss Wise said, “So where have you been, Alex? And where’s Charlie? I’ve just sent a message to the office saying you’re not here,” Troy shouted out, “Oi, miss! What’s the vaulting horse doing outside the school?”

  Everyone stood up and stared out of the window. The vaulting horse was there, all right – on the pavement, just outside the main gate. I groaned quietly to myself. If Charlie was in there, he was going to be in real trouble.

  I put my hand up.

  “Do you want me to go and get Mr Cameron, miss?” I asked.

  Miss Wise looked at me suspiciously.

  “I think you’ve been out of my sight quite long enough, Alex,” she said. “I hope you and Charlie haven’t got anything to do with this.”

  I tried to look innocent. She sent one of the girls instead.

  Mr Cameron, the schoolkeeper, came into the class a few minutes later to ask for some helpers to bring the horse in.

  “I don’t think we can take children outside the school gates without permission from their parents,” Miss Wise told him. “I’ll come and help you get it through the gates and into the playground.”

  She turned to the class.

  “I know it’s been a bit of a strange morning,” she said, “but can I trust you all to get on with some work quietly while I go and help Mr Cameron?”