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Ancient Greek Statutory Law is a Jay Dubya short story that appears in the author's hardcover/paperback/e-book titled Modern Mythology.
“Ancient Greek Statutory Law”
As a youth growing up and going to school in Corinth, Greece, Achilles Greco learned to love Greek Mythology and was especially enamored with the tales that lauded the adventurous heroes’ Achilles, (who had killed the Trojan hero Hector), Perseus, (who had slain the vile monster Medusa), Hercules, (who had performed twelve remarkable labors), Agamemnon, (who had led the Achaean expedition against Troy), Menelaus, (whose wife was more famously later known as Helen of Troy) and Orpheus, (who had journeyed down to the Underworld to be reunited with the soul of his deceased bride, Eurydice).
Other great champions that were loved by Achilles Greco were Phaethon, (who flew his father Apollo’s horse-drawn chariot too close to the sun), Bellerophon, (who rode mighty Pegasus to slay the monster Chimera), Theseus, (who killed the notorious Minotaur in a dark labyrinth under a palace on the island of Crete), Odysseus, (imaginative king of Ithaca who ingeniously thought up the idea of the Trojan Horse), Daedalus, (an ancient genius who invented framed wings having glued feathers in order to escape the tyranny of King Minos), Oedipus, (who answered the Sphinx’s riddle and became King of Thebes) and finally Jason, (leader of the renowned Argonauts that retrieved the Golden Fleece and brought it back to Greece). Achilles Greco also derived much pleasure from reading the wonderful stories that described the incredible exploits of the major Olympian gods.
In 1985 Achilles Greco at age twenty-five immigrated to the United States with grandiose dreams of working hard and ascending the ladder of success in the American free enterprise system. The ambitious newcomer started at the bottom of the economic capitalistic way of life as a dishwasher in his uncle’s Vineland, New Jersey diner, soon became a cashier, saved every penny he could hoard and in 1989 bought his own small diner/restaurant seventeen miles north in Hammonton.
By 1995 the shrewd entrepreneur and daring risk-taker had mastered the major tenets of capitalism by independently owning six lucrative high-volume dollar-earning diners, and by 2005 the forty-five-year old man had amassed full control of thirteen popular dining establishments situated in various towns all over Southern New Jersey.
Achilles had also profited from shrewdly investing in the stock market, so when the food mogul was approached by a large conglomerate to sell his “lucky thirteen” thriving diners for a handsome thirty-five million dollars, and considering that he’ already had accumulated seven million in his “small potatoes’ Wall Street portfolio,” the shrewd rags-to-riches multimillionaire took advantage of the excellent opportunity, eagerly sold his flourishing enterprises and then optimistically moved to Athens, Georgia where the retiree had purchased a fabulous mansion with magnificent white marble Corinthian columns, which made the impressive palace look like a modernistic Greek temple.
‘I never married but I really like entertaining,’ Achilles reckoned as he admired the fantastic newly-acquired home on the hill. ‘This is my own private Mt. Olympus and the former owner’s family sold it at a sacrifice price of only five million dollars. And the woman who had lived here also appreciated Greek mythology as attested by the thirteen expensive life-size statues that grace the main library room. This is what I’ve labored to achieve! My fondest dreams have come true!’
Achilles proudly stood in his fully stocked library and gazed at the handsome mahogany and glass cabinets that housed his exceptional collection of famous authors’ works, and without a doubt Greco’s favorite volumes were Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey along with a black leather edition of Edith Hamilton’s famous literary contribution, Mythology.
‘And I also really treasure these thirteen fabulous statues, the first being of my namesake Achilles. Then there is Perseus, Hercules, Agamemnon, Menelaus, Orpheus, Phaethon, Bellerophon, Theseus, Odysseus, Daedalus, Oedipus and Jason,’ Achilles mused. ‘But for some inexplicable reason the Perseus statue is missing Medusa’s head in its raised left hand. I wonder why that is so? It was probably broken-off somehow by accident. I should have that deficiency corrected as soon as possible. It really looks incomplete.’
One odd feature of the Athens, Georgia furnished mansion’s décor really puzzled and perplexed the normally unflappable Achilles Greco. Three life-size statues of the home’s former owners, Mr. Arthur Grimesley, Mr. Joseph Nicastro and Mrs. Joan Sampson stood side-by-side in the entrance foyer, which featured a huge (suspended from the second-floor ceiling) beautiful crystal chandelier. ‘I’m rather superstitious and refuse to have the three foyer statues removed,’ the tycoon thought, ‘but I find the three marble figures both enchanting and mysterious. But what is more peculiar is that the former owners of this mansion all had disappeared without any trace of their whereabouts and all police investigations have ended in futility,’ Achilles considered. ‘These coincidences are more than strange; they are quite bizarre and almost ominous!’
On Wednesday, June 8th Achilles returned to his Athens, Georgia palace after attending a charity fund-raising function in downtown Atlanta. The hired white limousine pulled into the semi-circular pavered driveway and then stopped under the portico’s pavilion. The conscientious chauffeur got out and the driver next promptly opened the back door for Achilles Greco to exit. After giving the chauffeur a generous hundred-dollar tip the lonely tycoon entered his superb mansion only to discover the bodies of three burglars lying dead inside the library. ‘This mass murdering could be scandalous!’ the alarmed owner defensively thought. ‘I’ll notify the police and tell them they must conduct a discreet search for clues. I don’t want the tabloid press vultures ruining my reputation.’
During the initial police investigation into the unusual “murders” Achilles pointed out to the authorities conducting the probe that a highly irregular phenomenon was quite evident and that it should be delved into. The library’s white marble Perseus Statue, which was a facsimile of egocentric Benvenuto Cellini’s (1500-1571) classic bronze masterpiece of the hero holding Medusa’s head, had dried blood caked on its’ sword. But the police were not as intrigued with the actual discovery as was Achilles Greco.
“We’ll do a thorough blood and DNA analysis,” Inspector Hargrove told the very concerned homeowner, “and off the record, the stains probably got on the sword as a result of some sort of violent struggle, either amongst the three thugs or perhaps from intervention from other criminals that had managed to escape the scene of conflict with their lives. If I remember properly from high school art class,” the somewhat curious Inspector surmised and said, “isn’t this statue supposed to have a monster’s head being held in its left hand?”
“Why yes,” Achilles Greco affirmatively answered. “The creature’s head has been missing ever since I’ve been living here! There must be some logical explanation to account for all of these weird and eerie variables that seem to defy explanation. If you need any additional information Inspector Hargrove,” the wary and apprehensive homeowner explained, “I’ll be more than willing to cooperate. I don’t like having murders occurring in my home whether I’m in the house or away from Athens on personal business. But please, keep the media frenzy out of this case.”
“Indeed, we fully understand where you’re coming from Mr. Greco,” Coroner Brent Crawford concurred. “We’ll keep you updated on any further findings or quirky developments. At present though, I must confess that this entire matter appears rather baffling, eerily baffling if I may add.”
‘This investigation all seems horribly frightening,’ Achilles fearfully evaluated. ‘Three desperate crooks are brutally slain, in fact savagely stabbed to death in my personal library and in addition three former wealthy owners of this house are missing with their statues prominently exhibited in the grand entrance foyer. Perhaps I should spend more time vacationing in exclusive European hotels!’ Greco conjectured. ‘Even the Athens Acropol or the Residence Giorgio would suffice! But everything else being equal I’d like to see and feel the energy and enlightenment of the splendid Acropolis one more time!’ Then Achilles snapped out of his reverie. “Thank you officers for your prompt response. Let me know of any future significant discoveries.”
The night after the three thieves had been “systematically eliminated” Achilles removed a favorite book from his library’s second shelf and began fancifully perusing the story “Perseus and Medusa.” Even though Greco had virtually memorized each and every line of the popular myth, the gaudy tale still fascinated his fancy. ‘Heroes were half human and half divine characters with gods as their fathers and mortal women as their mothers,’ Achilles recalled from his intrigue with mythology.
The hero Perseus was the offspring of a brief love affair between the king-god Zeus and a mortal woman named Danae. A prophet had predicted that Danae’s son would eventually kill her father Acrisius, King of Argo, who then a year later had his soldiers place Danae and her infant son Perseus inside a basket that was soon sent out to sea. The basket miraculously stayed afloat and landed on the island of Seriphos, where a kind benefactor named Dictys took the maiden and her child into his care. But Dictys’ evil brother Polydictes was the cruel-minded king of Seriphos who feared Perseus’s potential to assume the throne as had been foretold by the island soothsayer, so when Perseus became a fearless teenager the wicked king tricked the callow youth into going on a quest to decapitate Medusa’s head and to return it to Seriphos as a treasured gift for Polydictes to cherish and revere. And with the help of the benevolent goddess Pallas Athene, who provided the brave hero with a pair of winged sandals and a winged bronze helmet and accompanying shield to make Perseus virtually invincible, the aspiring champion was able to complete his arduous mission and return to Seriphos to gladly turn the ruthless King Polydictes into stone using Medusa’s horrible face.
Achilles Greco frequently read other ancient Greek myths such as “Hercules and the Three Golden Apples,” “The Legend of King Midas,” “Atalanta’s Race,” “Theseus and the Minotaur,” “Psyche and Cupid” and “Baucis and Philemon,” and every time the wealthy man got up to retrieve the mail, to use the bathroom facilities or to obtain a drink from the kitchen refrigerator he would return to his library soft leather recliner chair and then recognize that something quite extraordinary had just happened during his recent absence from the room. Each time Greco would re-enter his library and pick up his copy of the Book of Stories from Greek Antiquity, no matter which tale he had been reading, remarkably the page in that anthology would always be turned to ‘145,’ the first page of the story “Perseus and Medusa.”
‘This is all very uncanny, sinister and odious,’ the apprehensive man thought. ‘It’s like being communicated with from a dead person, but every character in the book I’m reading is fictitious and Perseus was undoubtedly a mythological hero that never existed in reality to ever have a chance to become a ghost. My sensibility is really being challenged by this troubling aberrant recurrence,’ Achilles determined. ‘And it has happened far too many times to be dismissed as merely an anomaly! But in my heart I truly do believe and sense that someone or something is consciously trying to communicate with me, possibly from an unknown occult dimension!’
Then one early October 2005 Friday morning Achilles was casually reading the tale “Pygmalion and Galatea” from Edith Hamilton’s Mythology collection when the bachelor rose from his chair to retrieve the morning newspaper, which had been tossed onto his front steps beneath the columned portico’s pavilion. Upon reentering his mansion and returning to his favorite black leather recliner with the edition of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution the rich fellow suddenly became quite distraught. The anthology collection was still closed with the bookmark inserted but the object of convenience had been deliberately moved from page 110 in the story “Pygmalion and Galatea” to page 145, “Perseus and Medusa.”
‘I’ll try an experiment to make sure that my memory and my eyes aren’t deceiving me,’ Achilles logically imagined. ‘I’ll read other myths from Edith Hamilton’s book and see what results will be yielded.’ But much to Greco’s astonishment and consternation each time he departed and then returned to his library the bookmark had been deliberately changed to all-too-familiar page 145, “Perseus and Medusa.” The ongoing phenomenon was now really tormenting the man’s sanity.
Out of curiosity, Achilles conducted similar experiments with other books that contained the common story “Perseus and Medusa,” and every time Greco departed and quickly returned to the library, whether he had been reading “The Seven Against Thebes” or “Odysseus and the Cyclops,” on each transit the page marker had mysteriously and redundantly been switched to “Perseus and Medusa.”
‘There must be some feasible explanation, even if it isn’t scientific,’ the now-superstitious man considered. ‘By nature I’ve always been a cynical and doubting guy, particularly when it comes to religion, metaphysics, the arcane or anything else that involves the theme of supernatural intervention. I certainly won’t report this very weird manifestation to my optometrist when I go for my scheduled appointment next Thursday, that’s for sure. But I find the whole matter very troubling.’
Late Monday afternoon, October 24th Achilles was bored watching melodramatic cable channel news and was anticipating and thinking about a sensational upcoming November vacation trip to Athens and to Corinth to visit cousins still living on the European Continent. The retired forty-five year old poured himself his second glass of Southern Comfort on the rocks and sat down in his favorite library black leather chair to continue reading an imaginative episode of Homer’s Odyssey, “The Island of Circe.” After Achilles Greco visited the bathroom and then returned he immediately noticed that the book he had been reading had been carefully inserted back into the glass display case and that another large volume titled Bulfinch’s Mythology had been placed on the side table situated next to the black leather recliner, and the new text had been coincidentally opened to the story “Perseus and Medusa.”
‘I must be hallucinating,’ Achilles fearfully suspected and theorized. ‘I need to stay away from hard liquor, even something as wonderfully tasty as Southern Comfort.’ And then Greco’s eyes scanned the dimly lit library and they perceived that all thirteen statues surrounding him were that of Perseus triumphantly standing tall and holding his sword in his right hand and nothing in the champion’s left. Achilles put his cold glass down on the side table and vigorously rubbed his eyes. His psyche was being tested to its maximum.
‘This is absolutely surreal!’ the man incredulously thought. ‘I now truly believe that this new mansion of mine is haunted! No wonder why the executors of Mrs. Joan Sampson’s estate wanted to dispose of the property in a hurry at a bargain price! Now I think I know why!’
And as Achilles Greco further scrutinized the unearthly and illogical spectacle of his “marble gallery,” the name Perseus that was now inscribed in stone at the base of each of the thirteen statues suddenly crystallized and then converted to the word “Attica,” which was indeed geographic terminology that the still-stunned immigrant fully comprehended.
‘Attica is the northern Greek peninsula upon which the city of Athens is located,’ Achilles recollected, ‘and it extends from the mountains to the Aegean Sea. The area’s mountains are rich in iron, lead and silver deposits, and the nearby hills are where the white marble to construct the Parthenon and other temples on the Acropolis had been gotten,’ Greco remembered from his academic studies back in Corinth. ‘And many vineyards and olive groves can be found all throughout Attica.’
And then much to Achilles Greco’s total bewilderment the “a” on the end of the word “Attica” represented on all thirteen Perseus statues faded into oblivion leaving the word “Attic,” which immediately gave the observer an instant inspiration. ‘That’s the message or clue that the thirteen statues are attempting to communicate!’ Greco surmised and concluded with his heart beating wildly. ‘I must go up into the attic and search around for whatever the statues want me to find. This entire experience is quite strange and now heading way beyond paranormal. I’m certainly not an ardent churchgoer but it could only be described as being divine, possibly even miraculous!’
Coincidental to the awed man coming to his perceptive interpretation of events, much to Achilles Greco’s wonderment the word “Attic” formed back into “Attica,” and then the appellation “Perseus” disappeared at the base of twelve of the statues. And as the ceiling lights automatically and simultaneously brightened, further illuminating the library, twelve of the thirteen marble statues then amazingly returned to being impressive depictions of the heroes Achilles, Hercules, Agamemnon, Menelaus, Orpheus, Phaethon, Bellerophon, Theseus, Odysseus, Daedalus, Oedipus and Jason.
‘The statue of Perseus that didn’t change back to a likeness of itself must be the genuine one that I’m supposed to communicate with,’ Achilles cogently hypothesized and considered. ‘I’ll polish off the rest of this delicious Southern Comfort and then maybe I’ll have sufficient courage to address Perseus and ask him several relevant questions.’
The half-intoxicated imbiber rose from his soft black leather chair, staggered across the expansive room and felt a trifle ridiculous initiating a conversation with an inanimate marble statue. “Perseus, have you been attempting to communicate with me lately?” the more-than-slightly confused man awkwardly slurred.
“Yes Achilles Greco,” the stationary statue replied with only its solid white lips moving. “You finally possessed the wherewithal to figure out the ‘Attic’ riddle after I had to nearly disclose it to you in its entirety. I only wish that you were a little more intrepid and intelligent.”
“What is in the attic that is of such grave importance?” Achilles asked the impeccably formed white marble image. “Is it what’s missing from your left hand? Answer me so that I can help solve your problem.”
“Yes Master, you must go up into the attic and bring me Medusa’s head so that my physical form can again be complete,” the statue demanded. “You’ll find the severed head concealed inside a bronze box, wrapped in a dark leather bag. Bring the head to me so that the gods’ can reattach it to my left hand. Zeus himself has promised to perform that special service for me.”
“I’m a little dizzy right now but I’d very much like to step up into the attic to locate the metal box and the leather sack that you’ve described,” Achilles timidly suggested. “May I go find and examine the item that you so desire? I don’t have the dexterity right this moment to proficiently handle the head. To be perfectly truthful Perseus, I don’t think I’m too physically well coordinated at this time to be able to satisfactorily deliver Medusa’s head to you. What do you think I should do?”
“Yes Master Achilles Greco, I insist that you pursue your exploratory folly,” Perseus impatiently consented, “but on your second attic venture Master I trust that you’ll be sufficiently audacious and sober enough to retrieve the head and bring it back to this library so that I can finally be whole again.”
The drunken multimillionaire’s curiosity had been piqued. The obedient homeowner climbed up to the second floor guest bedroom, entered it and then opened a door, flicked on the lights and gradually ascended up to the mansion’s musty poorly ventilated attic. After rummaging around for several minutes Achilles by chance discovered the alluded to box believed to contain Medusa’s head. After opening the squeaky lid the searcher found the designated leather bag. ‘I’ll only feel the head through the leather material,’ Greco nervously instructed his suspicious will. ‘It feels awfully grotesque and I can definitely distinguish the solid marble-carved snakes in her head that indeed represent hair. I don''t want to trip down the steps and have the head roll out of the sack. Next week I’ll garner enough mettle to take the head downstairs and personally deliver it to Perseus, or whatever spiritual entity that constitutes the speaking marble likeness of Perseus.’
The now-neurotic wealthy resident meticulously lowered the leather sack back into the bronze box, placed the container next to an old mattress, descended the attic stairs and then switched off the attic lights.
The entire last week of October Achilles Greco occupied his restive mind by working out at a nearby Athens, Georgia Hollywood East Gym (even though the now-paranoid tycoon had his own personal gym in his basement). The beleaguered man also spent time finalizing his much-needed November vacation to Corinth and Athens, Greece to visit distant relatives and boyhood acquaintances. And the remainder of his free time the industrious semi-retired entrepreneur spent narrowing down a list of prospective business associates being considered for investing in a newly proposed suburban shopping mall.
But on Halloween October 31st Achilles could not control his resistance to temptation any longer so early that evening he approached the splendid marble statue of Perseus in the all-too-familiar library.
“Perseus, before I go and fetch Medusa’s head for you,” Greco nervously addressed his very unique statue, “I have a few basic questions to ask you that are dominating and affecting my inquisitive mind. I hope that you and your fellow twelve statues aren’t offended.”
“No indeed,” Perseus’s stone lips moved and uttered. “Go right ahead Master with announcing your principal concerns. I’ll answer them if I can.”
“Who had killed the three bandits that had broken into the house with the intention of probably wanting to rob my mansion of jewelry, silverware, china dishes and other valuables?” the very affluent investor/resident asked. “Do you have any particular knowledge of the crimes that had been committed? Were those men hired to commit robbery?”
“I must confess Master that it was I that had performed the heinous deeds,” Perseus shamelessly answered. “I wouldn’t call my act of protecting your property a crime because as you know I’m a man of honor and integrity and I’ve always considered eliminating vile humans a sacred duty and not a grievous sin. That’s the way we heroes always conducted ourselves in the prehistoric past Achilles Greco,” Perseus adamantly maintained and qualified, “you know! And with only three pathetic thugs involved in the attempted larceny, I didn’t require any special assistance from my twelve fellow marble champions assembled here in your library.”
“Yes Perseus, I now fully fathom your noble motivation to want to protect my estate from vandalism and ransacking,” Achilles appreciatively noted. “That swift justice you had practiced was very praiseworthy indeed Perseus! Now tell me honestly,” the wealthy aristocrat continued, “did you have anything to do with turning the three former owners of this mansion into stone statues? Are the life-sized statues really the remains of Mrs. Sampson, Mr. Nicastro and Mr. Grimesley standing erect in the main foyer? I can’t seem to fall asleep at nights thinking about all of these cryptic things I’ve just mentioned. Can you please explain the former owners’ mystery to me?”
“Certain relevant things I’m not permitted to answer according to specific instructions and guidelines from the incomparable Olympian Zeus, and your particular inquiry’ is definitely one of them I’ll not violate!” Perseus sternly articulated without flinching a muscle aside from his moving lips. “You Master will have to implicitly trust my character and value my judgment in regard to acquiring Medusa’s hideous head for my own personal disposal. Are there’ any further questions outside the realm of mythology currently pestering your mortal mind?”
“No Perseus, I think you’ve adequately addressed my two principal ones,” Achilles shakily remarked. “Now I believe I do feel valiant enough to stray up to the attic and secure Medusa’s wretched wrapped head for your own personal disposition. Please bear with me while I attempt performing this very daunting task you’ve requested.”
“Master, I have a word of sage advice for you to strictly adhere to,” the statue cautioned and very carefully enunciated. “Remove my magical bronze shield from yonder wall to the left of the stone fireplace and take it with you. In that way when you open the attic box look into the shield and Medusa’s face will not have any adverse effect on you!”
“Nonsense Perseus my dear and noble friend,” Achilles confidently answered with swagger. “The ghastly horrible head is concealed and wrapped inside a leather sack and therefore my pupils will not come into direct contact with the wretched beast’s grotesque face. But thank you for rendering your sympathetic concern anyway!”
Disguising his faltering sense of audacity the stubborn tycoon clambered up the steep second floor steps without even holding on to the wooden banister and after entering the aforementioned bedroom he then flicked on the attic light switch. In the fairly well lit third-floor storage area next to the old mattress Achilles again came across the metal box and opened it expecting to find the leather sack inside. Instead the shocked man momentarily shrieked in terror upon scrutinizing the distorted and disfigured countenance and head of the mythological beast Medusa, and the haughty and defenseless standing examiner immediately was converted into solid marble.
‘Another phase of my laborious and difficult mission has been accomplished,’ the statue of Perseus gratefully comprehended after hearing Achilles Greco’s nerve-shattering spine-tingling shriek from up in the mansion’s attic. ‘Unfortunately for you Mr. Greco you’ve solved the very interesting riddle of Medusa’s head. You should’ve heeded my candid instructions and not arrogantly pursued your own cocky solution. Your sin of Hubris has been punished. Now all I have to do is trick three more mortal souls into opening the bronze box and have Medusa’s face turn them into stone,’ the motionless statue of Perseus assessed, ‘and then finally my punishment capriciously administered by Zeus will have been successfully completed. Then my yearning soul will be able to at-long-last travel down to Hades and there in the eternal underworld finally rest in peace in the fabled Elysium daffodil fields. I shall be coming to the banks of the Styx soon Charon! Have your barge ready! I shall be coming soon!’
At 7 p.m. an Athens, Georgia mother drove a dark green SUV filled with rambunctious trick-or-treaters up to Achilles Greco’s mansion’s portico pavilion to release the costumed children out of the vehicle to honor the traditional annual Halloween ritual. After the four disguised junior visitors vigorously rang the columned palace’s doorbell without achieving any satisfactory results, the mother behind the wheel yelled to the disappointed boys and girls, “Jimmy, Janet, Karen, Bobbie, nobody seems to be home tonight! Let’s see if we can go next door and get you some candy, cupcakes and some other safe-to-eat Halloween treats!”
The four disappointed kids dressed like mini-Greek gods and goddesses dashed back to the SUV so that they could try their luck begging for treats at the nearest neighbor’s residence. Before the mother drove out of the U-shaped gray-pavered driveway, she asked her oldest son a pertinent question.
“Jimmy, the lights were on in the foyer,” the mother wondered and stated. “Did you see anybody moving around inside?”
“No Mommy, what a total bummer!” Jimmy costumed as all-powerful Zeus dejectedly reported in a sad and peeved tone of voice. “There were only four white statues standing there’ all by themselves.”
Jay Dubya
Author of 50 Hardcover & Paperback Books
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thought provoking read
While you were telegraphing what would happen all along, I didn't see it coming. The reference to going back to page 145 in the story of Perseus and Medusa doesn't seem to have any real relevance except to reinforce the reader or warn Achilles of his pending doom. You may call it hubris, but it seems strange that Achilles would not use the shield when offered to him. And the leather sack disappearing is a bit strange.
I'm still finding all the superlative adjectives in the way of my reading.
Ron