Calypso

The Story of Percy - Part 1

I stab at the dirt with the shovel. My thoughts are elsewhere, though.
I think of Percy every day. I curse myself for it. I should get over him; I'll never see him again.
And every time I sort through my feelings; every time in all of these years; I always feel like something's missing. According to the curse, I've fallen in love a thousand times. But you only have one other half. Only one soulmate.
And as much as I think about all of them, the more I feel that they're just crushes; not my real, true love.
Still, that one day when Percy crash-landed on Ogygia is still crystal-clear in my memory...



It was another average day on Ogygia. I was attempting to teach myself to cook and keep the tools away from the invisible minions (how does one do that, anyway?) when I saw him. At first he was practically just a dot -- a little speck of dirt in the sky. As he fell closer and closer, I recognized the human form. He crashed into the water. Just feet before he landed, it seemed as if the water reached up to meet him. A wave tossed him to the shore.
After just a few minutes of trying to clean his wounds, he opened his eyes and groaned. He made a weak attempt to sit up.
"Stay still," I commanded. "You're too weak to rise."
I laid a cold, wet cloth on his forehead and dribbled some nectar into his mouth. I still wasn't sure if he would even survive.
He had dirty, tattered black hair matted against his head. His sea-green eyes reminded me of the ocean -- a son of Poseidon? I quickly racked my brain for a remedy, then hummed the tune to Mother's healing song. It worked best on ocean people -- Poseidon's kids, for example -- but there were other songs that would work almost as well for others, too.
"Who...?" He rasped.
"Shhh, brave one. Rest and heal. No harm will come to you here." I hesitated a moment. Most tales of me weren't exactly kind. "I am Calypso."
I couldn't tell if he actually heard me or not. His eyes closed again with a moan.
"Invisible servant things! A little help?" No answer. "Of course. They can't actually make themselves helpful," I muttered.
I dragged him towards my home, trying to keep him from bumping his head on sharp stones or shells and humming to continue the healing process.