Some Kind of Wonderful- Part Three by: Enemyoffun Charlie Sandsmark and his mother, Helena, travel around the world from one archaeological dig to another, looking for evidence of the ancient Amazonian culture. So far they have found nothing, until Charlie discovers something wonderful about himself on a small island in the Aegean Sea.

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Author's Note: Here's Chapter Three. For those of you expecting Charlie to wake up with a weight on his chest I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed but there is a really good cliffhanger that will lead into something very interesting indeed. I'd like to thank DC Comics for their characters and djkauf for the lightning fast editing.

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Chapter Three:

Did anyone get the number of that truck…?

Then there was only darkness.

When I woke up, my head was throbbing. I was panting like crazy, my heart thumping in my chest. I sat up and looked around, confused at my surroundings at first. I half expected to see myself surrounded by white again. Instead, it was all stone and green. I blinked a few times, trying to figure out where I was exactly. Then the situation came back to me. I was in a temple devoted to Hera and I touched a statue. Then I---I groaned---passed out. I pushed myself to my feet, rubbing the back of my head. Not only did I pass out---again---I hit my head too. I stumbled on my feet a bit, using Hera’s humongous statue to steady myself before I took stock of my surroundings again.

The other statue---the one with the golden belt---was still in front of me. I didn’t dare go near it. But there was something different about it now, something less mysterious about it. I looked around for my flashlight and found it lying a few feet away. I walked over, snatched it up and clicked it on. I shined the light, moving it from the top of the statue to the bottom and back again. Nothing immediate stood out until I made a second pass. The belt was gone. What the hell? I stepped closer, looking at her waist where it was before. How in the hell? I reluctantly reached out and touched the statue. I half expected to get dizzy again but nothing happen.

I laughed. Maybe I imagined the whole thing.

I stared at the statue for a few more minutes, trying to wonder if the golden belt was there at all. As I continued to stare, I heard the raspy feedback of my radio. I snapped around, noticing my pack was lying a few feet away. Funny, I don’t remember taking it off. I shook my head and walked over, zipping it open and rummaging inside. I found the radio and took it.

“Hello” I asked, clicking it.

“Damn it Charlie, I’ve been trying to get you for the last ten minutes” snapped my mother, annoyed as usual.

I rolled my eyes. “I hit my head.”

She ignored me. “I need you to come and meet me; I have no idea where this city of yours is.”

I sighed. I was about to tell her what I found but the hell with it. I told her I’d be right there and clicked off. I grabbed my pack, slung it on my shoulder and slowly walked out of the temple. I shined the light in front of me as I retraced my steps through the city, amazed at all the wonders that I discovered. Maybe now, my mother would be proud of me but I had a feeling she’d find some way to take credit. Not that it mattered; no one would believe me anyways. As I walked, looking at the bronze Goddesses as I passed by them my dream came back to me. Was that supposed to be her? I know it was just a dream and I’m pretty certain it was influenced by this discovery but was that really her. I’ve seen countless pictures---artist renderings of course---but none of them depicted her in that fashion. The woman in my dream was without a doubt one of the most gorgeous women I’d ever seen but nowhere had I seen Hera as a raven haired beauty.

Hera. I finally got to say her name. Well think it anyway.

I followed the path back the way I came, taking note of the columns on either side of me. It didn’t take me long to get back to where I hacked my way through the wall of vegetation. After a few more minutes, I came upon the spot where I stopped picking up book pages. About ten minutes after that, I saw a second flashlight beam. My mother was standing confused, shining her light here and there. I waved my light in the air, getting her attention. She was wearing her usual: t-shirt and khaki shorts. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her glasses were on the top of her head and her huge pack was on her back. She looked so out of place standing there, like a lost college professor and not a veteran field archaeologist.

When she saw me approach, there was a look of frustration on her face. Couldn’t she ever be happy about anything I do?

“You didn’t give me much to go on,” she snapped as she walked over.

I shrugged. “It’s kinda hard to give directions when everything looks the same.”

She didn’t respond instead she glared. “Where’s this lost city of yours?”

I didn’t respond; it was futile to argue with her. My mother was the kind of woman who always thought she was right. Even if I happened to win an argument and prove her wrong, she somehow twisted it to make it sound like she was right all along. I hated people like that. I often wondered why my grandparents had forced her to keep me. I know it’s a horrible thing to think about but after all my mother was not a person who should have children. The first half of my life she ignored me and now she drags me along because she feels obligated to do so. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m a guy or if I remind her of Dad or if she just plain hates people less informed than her. I try my hardest to make her proud of me but everything I do is just one big disappoint to her.

Nobody’s perfect. Definitely not her.

I led her back the way I came, shining my light along the path to show her our progress. She only paid half attention; I think she thought I was leading her on some wild goose chase. But when I got to the first column, her whole demeanor changed. There was excitement on her face and a smile. I smiled too; it was contagious. Besides, I couldn’t remember the last time I saw her smile. I stepped back, allowing her get a full view. She brushed me aside as she went to look at the column. When she got to the nick I left with the machete, she gave me a stern look. But it disappeared just as quickly as she pulled out an LED pocket light and continued to look at the rest of the column. I think I expected some kind of praise for doing a good job but I kinda knew I wasn’t going to get any. Typical Mom. I walked over to a nearby tree and sat, resting my back against it. While she looked at the stupid column, I opened my pack and rummaged around inside. My stomach grumbled. Inside I knew I had a couple of granola bars.

I rummaged about, not really looking. They were somewhere near the bottom I think. As I dug, my fingers brushed up against something cold and metal. That gave me pause. I looked down; half expecting to see something I forgot was in there. But what I saw made my eyes bulge out of my head. It was the belt---the golden one from the statue. My heart starting pounding in my chest. I pulled my hand away quickly, afraid that touching it might make me dizzy again. How in the hell did that get in there? There was no way I got have taken it off the statue, it looked to have been a part of it. I stared at the pack, the top of the belt clearly visible as I looked inside. My pounding heart slowed a bit and my hands stopped shaking so much.

I looked at my mom, wondering if she noticed but she was engrossed in her stupid column. I groaned and went back into the pack. I tried to ignore the belt as I gently pushed it aside and found my two granola bars. I took them out, unwrapped one and stuffed the wrapped into my pocket. My mother would have had a fit if she saw me drop it. I’m supposed to leave places---especially dig sites---in the same condition I found them. Which made no sense considering they were digging in them, destroying what was already there? Anyway littering was a big no no. Not that I’d ever do something like that.

I ate my granola bar in piece as my mother mumbled to herself. I decided to leave the second one for later. I rummaged around in my pack again and found my PSP. I was glad that I stuck it in there before I left camp. I turned it on and started to play, getting lost in the brutal world of Kratos. I’m not sure how long I played for but Mom was still looking at the columns. She moved away from the first one and was now looking at a few more. I think she was trying to see how alike they really were or some such nonsense. I continued to play my game, conquering one section and moving onto the next. But as I played along---oblivious to my surroundings---I couldn’t help but notice that Kratos’ fighting style didn’t exactly fit with that of the Ancient Greeks.

I stopped playing, not bothering to save the game. My heart wasn’t in it anyway. I got to my feet, sticking the PSP back into my pack and zipping it shut. My mother was still looking at the columns. She looked so happy laying on the ground, shining her light over inch by precious inch of it I didn’t have the heart to interrupt her. So instead, I stepped around her and walked down the path, heading back toward the city. I got only about ten feet when she called to me.

“Where are you going?”

“To walk around, I only got to look in the temple before.”

“Temple?” My mother dropped her light. “What temple?”

After the big reveal about the temple, my Mom completely ignored me. She was like a kid in a candy store when I led her into the city proper. Her columns were nothing compared to everything else. She spent hours looking at the statues, whipping out her notebook and jotting things down. Then she spent more time in the temple, looking at the statues in there. The first time she saw the statue of Hera I think she squealed. She was a completely different person, a person I could actually maybe get along with. Unfortunately she acted as if I wasn’t even there. So I acted like she wasn’t there either. I left her in the temple and explored the rest of the city.

I went left first, finding myself in another clearing. But unlike the first that was mainly filled up with the temple complex. This one had what I can only describe as a training field of some sorts. There were places where a track might have been and another place that looked like an archery range. As I walked the perimeter, I actually found some arrowheads. I pocketed a couple actually---there were like fifty of them. From there I found this little building that I could only describe as an armory. Inside, there were rusty bronze swords and spearheads. Hanging from what might have been a wall were bronze shields. I spent a lot of time in this place, thinking about my grandfather and wondering how much he would have loved to see this place.

After that, I headed back out into what I was calling the temple clearing then went right. This area had little houses, probably where the girls lived. There was a fire pit in the center, the houses centered around it. Dotted about the houses were marble benches and hanging flowerpots. What amazed me the most was how intact everything looked. It was as if someone threw a cloak over this place, protecting it from time.

Unfortunately, my mother shattered most of that. She called and told me to head back to the beach. She wanted me to pack up our tents and transport them into the jungle. Apparently, she wanted to stay close to her discovery. Yes, her discovery, she made that pretty clear when she was talking to me. She wouldn’t even acknowledge that I had anything to do with it. So I begrudgingly left the Amazon city and walked all the way back to the beach. Let me tell you how much it sucks to be screwed out of your own discovery. I broke down the tents and gathered up the tent but I wasn’t happy about it. It took me nearly an hour to carry everything---by myself---from the beach to the city. But strangely enough, I wasn’t winded at all. In fact, it didn’t even seem to bother me.

It took me another hour to set everything up. My mother wanted me to pitch the camp inside the temple but some part of me felt that was wrong. Sacrilegious somehow. So instead, I pitched it in the housing complex. I had my tent as close to the biggest house I could find there. By the time I was done pitching the tents, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. So I grabbed my flashlight and went to rouse Mom from her work. I found her in the far corner of the temple, reading by lantern light. There was a section of the temple---the only section apparently---with some writing on it. Mom was scribbling furiously in her notebook, jotting down the Ancient Greek. I looked at the wall. I knew Greek like the back of my hand; it was practically a second language. But I’d never been a fan of the ancient stuff. Every time I tried to read, it looked like gibberish to me. But as I stared at the wall now the words seemed to dissolve away and in their place was English. I blinked my eyes thinking maybe it was sleep catching up with me but when I looked again I saw the same.

Somehow, I could now read Ancient Greek.

I’m not sure if that freaked me out as much as I thought it might. I kept my discovery to myself though because I was confident that Mom wouldn’t believe me anyway. After trying unsuccessfully to talk Mom into finishing up, I decided to retire back to my tent. I spent the night trying to piece together my book. My game seemed boring for some reason so after leaving the temple I went and rounded up all the other missing pages of the novel I could. I was still missing quite a few but thankfully they were from parts that I’d already read. So after assembling the book, I read until hunger forced me to look for some food. Thankfully, I still had the other granola bar---it wasn’t much but it was better than nothing. I ate that, drank from another coke then read until I couldn’t read anymore.

When I drifted off, I had another dream. I found myself standing on a hilltop, a huge boulder in front of me. I heard a booming voice around me, telling me that “If you do not wish to accept your destiny you shall be punished. For only a man must face the labors that a woman could surely overcome.” I didn’t give a damn what that voice---I’m sure it was the Goddess---said, there was no way I was going to do anything that she asked. Besides Jason, she didn’t have a very good track record with heroes. Not that I thought of myself as one.

In the morning, I woke up stiff and sore. My arms throbbed and my back felt like someone had been sitting on me all night. But all of that was crushed by the smell wafting into my tent. I opened my eyes, slipping out of the sleeping bag. I usually slept in a t-shirt and boxers but last night I fell asleep in my jeans. I pulled on my sneakers and slipped out of tent. I was shocked to see Donna sitting around the campfire, clad in a bikini top and jean cutoffs. Her hair was pulled high on top of her head in a tight ponytail and when she turned around her breasts bounced. My heart skipped a beat and there was a stirring in my loins. I blushed, turning away.

“Hey kiddo” she said, bending over the fire. She turned around, holding a plate. “I made some breakfast.”

My mouth watered. Besides the granola bars, I hadn’t eaten anything since dinner night before last. I scrambled out of the tent, glad my feet were covered because the vegetation was hot on my hands. I pushed to my feet and stumbled over. I sat on one of marble benches, taking the plate she offered. She fixed herself a plate then sat next to me. For a few moments, the two of us ate in silence then I remembered my manners.

“Thanks” I said, “Mom doesn’t cook breakfast much…ummm, ever actually.”

She smiled, brushed a lock of hair form my face. “It’s the least I could do, I mean look at this place.”

I nodded. “Did Mom call you?”

She nodded while she chewed. “Phoned me last night. I tried to get your boat guy to bring me over but he wouldn’t do it until this morning.” She took another piece of bacon and chewed noisily. She didn’t speak again until she swallowed. ‘I arrived about an hour ago.” She waved her hand around. “This place is awesome.”

I smiled. It was interesting how much she and my mother were so much alike and so different. Donna was passionate about this stuff too but a lot more laid back. She loved it as much as Mom but she didn’t love it enough to ignore everything else in her. Donna knew how to have a life too. I heard her talk with mom every once and a while about her girlfriend---yeah, that crushed me. The two of them were really close and the girl---I don’t know her name---respected Donna enough to allow her to go gallivanting around the globe with us.

“Have you had a chance to look at the city yet?” I asked, crunching on a piece of bacon.

She shook her head. “Your Mom met me on the beach then led me here. She wanted me to get her notes in order but to tell you the truth I can’t heads or tails of it.”

I nodded. I knew what she meant. Back home she had a room in the apartment where we lived---we moved out of grandma’s house a few weeks before this trip---that she called her study. It was scattered with books and papers. I once tried to organize things for her but I think I made more of a mess than it was before. But thankfully, she never noticed. She did ask me about it but I shrugged it off and disappeared into my room. She didn’t like me in her study. She said there were grown up things in there, things I wouldn’t understand. I hated that she still thought I was too young to understand her work. I mean she went out of her way to make sure I knew all these languages but yet she wouldn’t let me help her with anything that she did.

“Let me help,” I said, finishing off my bacon.

“Its all yours.”

After breakfast, I followed Donna to Mom’s tent where there was a scattering of papers all over the place. I sifted through a pile, trying to figure out what they were all about. Chief among them were translations that Mom did on the wall writings. I skimmed over her work and noticed a great deal of glitches. I scanned through her other pages too---they were translations as well–and all of them were wrong. I shook my head. Mom usually prided herself on her Ancient Greek; it amazed me at how poorly she translated all of this.

“I think these are all wrong,” I said, passing a page or two to Donna.

Donna squinted at the page in her hand. “What are you talking about sweetie?”

“The translations” I said, annoyed that she didn’t notice too.

Donna was quiet for a few moments. Then she spoke. “There’s nothing wrong with this.”

I turned around, looking at the page then groaned. I quickly pointed out all the errors. Donna stood there, quiet for a few minutes. I’m not sure if she was shocked that I pointed out something she didn’t notice or…

“Umm, how do you know all that?”

I shrugged. I just did, don’t ask me how. But I tried to explain it to her anyway. Then I did the unthinkable, I told her about what happened in the temple yesterday. She listened intently. When I was done, she asked to see the belt. So I shrugged again, leaving my mother’s tent in the disarray we found it in. I walked her back to my tent and led her inside. My sleeping bag was still lying half open; the remains of my book and the PSP were lying next to it. There was even the empty pop can and granola wrapper from last night. What was missing was my backpack. I looked around but knowing there wasn’t a lot places for something like to hide in here, I tried to retrace my steps in my head. The only thing I could up with was leaving it on the beach. I cursed, remembering what happened. I set it down, half expecting to bring it with me on my final run.

Instead, I stuffed my flashlight and PSP into the front of my hoodie. Then I busied myself with finding the book pages. It took me all night to do that. Well most of the night. I was so busy piecing the pages back together that I completely forgot about going to get my pack. Son of a bitch.

“I left it on the beach” I said, groaning.

“Its ok, kiddo, you can show me later.”

I looked at my watch. “That’s ok, It won’t take me long to get it.” She smiled, nodding. “I’ll go and get it and meet you in front of the temple.”

We left the tent together. I didn’t wait for her to say bye as I took off. I was invigorated this morning, the pain in my back and arms long gone. I ran like I hadn’t run in years. It felt pretty good; I didn’t even break a sweat. Not even the heat seemed to be bothering me. What was even stranger than all of this was how quickly I got back to the beach. One minute I felt like I was standing in the camp and the next I was bursting out of jungle into the white sand.
I skidded to a haul, not even panting. I squinted in the sun. My pack was lying right where I thought it might be. I shook my head, cursing my stupidity. Mom should have seen it this morning but of course, she wouldn’t have brought it. I bet she thought she was teaching me a lesson. Sometimes I began to wonder why Mom even bothered to bring me on her journeys at all.

I started walking at a brisk pace over to my pack. I reached for it but stopped a few inches from picking it up. There was a loud noise moving toward the island. I grabbed one of the straps, hefting the pack and looked out into the water. At first, the speedboat was far off but it kept getting closer and closer. It wasn’t the first boat I’d seen pass by here. But most of the others were bigger and always much further off. This one was one of those cigar boats and it wasn’t getting farther away. It was getting closer, too close for comfort. I didn’t like that at all. What else didn’t I like? Seeing Costas sitting on the bench, two guys on the other side of him. Both of them were large, with bare arms. There were two other guys as well, one behind the wheel and one sitting next to him. My heart skipped a beat when I saw that guy because resting across his lap was a machine gun.

I took a deep breath. The boat roared up onto the beach, the sitting guy and I locked eyes. I think he was as shocked to see me, as I was him. He jumped to his feet and raised his gun, pointing it at me. He shouted something at the pilot in Greek then turned his attention to me.

My heart skipped another beat as he leveled his gun with my chest.

Hera give me strength.