Old Ladies And The Yarn Of Doom

Dante POV

The next afternoon, as me and Percy left the three-hour Latin exam, my eyes swimming with all the Greek and Roman names I'd misspelled, Mr. Brunner called us back inside.

Percy looked worried for a couple of seconds for some reason. 

"Percy, Dante," he said. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's...it's for the best."

His tone was kind, but the words still embarrassed me. Even though he spoke quietly, the other kids finishing the test could hear. Nancy Bobofit smirked at me and made sarcastic little kissing motions with her lips. I wanted so badly to slam her ugly head into her desk.

Percy mumbled, "Okay, sir."

I nodded. 

"I mean..." Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, like he wasn't sure what to say. "This isn't the right place for you two. It was only a matter of time."

I scrunched up my hand. I wanted to punch someone even more than normal.

Here was my favorite teacher, in front of the class, telling me and Percy that we couldn't handle it. After saying he believed in us all year, now he was telling us we were destined to get kicked out.

"Right," Percy said, trembling.

"Totally," I said digging my fingernails into my palm. 

"No, no," Mr. Brunner said. "Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say...you two are not normal, Percy, and Dante. That's nothing to be—"

"Thanks," Percy blurted. "Thanks a lot, sir, for reminding me." 

"Percy—"

But he was already gone.

Mr. Brunner looked at me, "You misunderstoo–" 

"No." I interrupted him. "I understand perfectly Mr. Brunner." 

I turned around sharply, marching out of the Latin class. 

On the last day of the term, I shoved my clothes into my suitcase.

The other guys were joking around, talking about their vacation plans. One of them was going on a hiking trip to Switzerland. Another was cruising the Caribbean for a month. They were juvenile delinquents, like me, but they were rich juvenile delinquents. Their daddies were executives, or ambassadors, or celebrities. I was a nobody. At least in their eyes. My mom wouldn't think so. She's not a nobody either. Just busy with work... whatever that may be. 

They asked me and Percy what we'd be doing this summer and he told them we were going back to the city.

What he didn't tell them was that we'd have to get a summer job walking dogs or selling magazine subscriptions, and spend my free time worrying about where I'd go to school in the fall.

"Oh," one of the guys said. "That's cool."

They went back to their conversation as if I'd never existed.

The only person I dreaded saying goodbye to was Grover, but as it turned out, I didn't have to. He'd booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as Percy and I had, (kinda creepy not gonna lie, considering he said he lives on Long Island), so there we were, together again, heading into the city.

During the whole bus ride, Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the other passengers. It occurred to me that he'd always acted nervous and fidgety when we left Yancy, as if he expected something bad to happen. Before, I'd always assumed he was worried about getting teased. But there was nobody to tease him on the Greyhound. Weird.

All of a sudden Percy said, "Looking for Kindly Ones?"

Weren't those the punishers of Hades or something? 

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat. "Wha—what do you mean?"

Percy confessed about eavesdropping on Grover and Mr. Brunner the night before the exam, while I had been asleep it seemed as if Percy wanted some help with his assignments and went to Mr. Brunner for help only to overhear something he shouldn't of. 

Grover's eye twitched. "How much did you hear?"

"Oh...not much. What's the summer solstice deadline?"

I raised my hand, "Respectfully, I'd like to be filled in." 

He winced. "Look, Percy...I was just worried for you and Dante, see. I mean, hallucinating about demon math teachers..."

I am Literally right in front of you. Ain't no way you're talking like I'm on another bus.

"Grover—" Percy said. 

"And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you two were overstressed or something, because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and..."

His right leg started bouncing horribly. 

"Grover, you're a really, really bad liar." Both me and Percy said at the same time. 

His ears turned pink.

From his shirt pocket, he fished out two grubby business cards. "Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."

The card was in fancy script, which was murder on my dyslexic eyes, but I finally made out something like:

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill Long Island, New York 

(800) 009-0009

"What's Half-" Percy tried to say. 

"Don't say it aloud!" he yelped. "That's my, um...summer address."

"Okay," Percy said glumly. "So, like, if I want to come visit your mansion." 

He nodded. "Or...or if you need me."

"Why would I need you?" I glanced over the card once more. 

It came out harsher than I meant it to.

Grover blushed right down to his Adam's apple. "Look, Percy, Dante, the truth is, I—I kind of have to protect you." I stared at him.

All year long, I'd gotten in fights, keeping bullies away from him. I'd lost sleep worrying that he'd get beaten up next year without me. And here he was acting like he was the one who defended me. I was the one who made sure he was safe from assholes! I am the one who got bruised and beaten defending him even when I was under the threat of suspension! And he has the GALL to say he's the one defending ME?! Bullshit. 

"Grover," Percy said, "what exactly are you protecting us from?"

I'm glad Percy spoke up because I'm sure what I would have said would have made the situation worse. 

There was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.

After a few minutes clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off. Grover, Percy, and I filed outside with everybody else.

Guess I jinxed it... 

We were on a stretch of country road—no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On our side of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the other side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

The stuff on sale looked really good: heaping boxes of bloodred cherries and apples, walnuts, and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. Which I kind of wanted to get some of. There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks I'd ever seen. 

I mean these socks were the size of sweaters, but they were clearly socks. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn.

All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, and bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses. I don't trust old people since Mrs. Dodds. But these three old ladies looked rather pleasant and not "murder you in your sleep." 

The weirdest thing about them was that they seemed to be looking right at Percy.

I looked over at Grover to say something about this and saw that the blood had drained from his face. His nose was twitching.

"Grover?" Percy said. "Hey, man—"

I decided that this conversation didn't really matter and that the cider looked very appetizing so I went across the road and to the stand. 

"Hey, how much is the cider?" I asked. 

The first of the old ladies looked up at me with eyes that looked almost endless. 

"The son of night, speaking with me, how lucky I am." Her voice sounded like a whisper. 

"Huh?"

The second old lady, who didn't look at me like the first spoke up, "Do not kid yourself Clothos, we knew this would happen." 

"Look ladies I don't know what you're talking about, I just want to buy some cider." I tried to get the conversation back on how much the cider was.

The third glanced at me for a second and then went back to Percy, "4 dollars, and if you would like a fortune telling or cookie too we can throw that in." 

"Nope. I just want some cider." I deadpanned. 

The three ladies looked at me at the same time. And in unison said, "This is what you need Dante Invierno." 

"Ok, creepy. But fine I'll take the cookie." 

I gave the old woman four dollars and the first gave me a bottle of cider wrapped in brown paper, the second gave me a fortune cookie and the third looked at me with a grin, "Come again soon." 

"Yeah... sure." Once I got my Cider and the cookie I quickly ran to the other side of the road, when I looked back the old ladies looked at Percy again and the middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that snip across four lanes of traffic. Her two friends balled up the electric-blue socks, leaving me wondering who they could be for—Sasquatch or Godzilla. Then again I don't think I really cared. They were kinda creepy and quite frankly I would not have given them a good review on Yelp. 

At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.

The passengers cheered.

"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!"

Once we got going, Percy and Grover started looking sick.

"Grover?" Percy said quietly.

"Yeah?" Grover responded in kind. 

"What are you not telling me?" Percy whispered. 

He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"

"You mean the old ladies? What is it about them, man? They're not like...Mrs. Dodds, are they?"

His expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling that the fruit-stand ladies were something much, much worse than Mrs. Dodds. He said, "Just tell me what you saw."

"The middle one took out her scissors, and she cut the yarn."

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but it wasn't. It was something else, something almost— older.

He said, "You saw her snip the cord."

"Yeah. So?"

"I saw it too, what does it mean?" I spoke up.

"This is not happening," Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. "I don't want this to be like the last time."

"What last time?"

"Always sixth grade. They never get past sixth."

"Grover," Percy said warily."What are you talking about?"

"Yeah man, what going on?" I tried to put my hand on his shoulder but he was vibrating more than your mother's dildo on Christmas eve. 

"Let me walk you two home from the bus station. Promise me." Grover's voice shook just as much as he did. 

This seemed like a strange request to me, but Both me and Percy promised he could. 

"Is this like a superstition or something?" Percy asked.

No answer.

"Grover—that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to die?"

He looked at Percy mournfully, like he was already picking the kind of flowers He'd like best on his coffin.

I looked down at the fortune cookie I was given by the old ladies and opened it. 

For some reason I could read it with no problem, it read:

"Enjoy it while you can" 

Well, that's ominous...