The Gap

By Lou Hagood

Having lived life as both male and female, Ti is given insight
as a blind seer in the Underworld, sought out by the living and
the dead, mortal and immortal, in their dreams. The witch, his
consort in both life and death, his lover as both male and
female, makes him Dr. Sweet Dreams with his own dream blog in
Neverland, her island of lost boys. There he gives dream
guidance to a collection of literary, mythological and
historical figures spanning the ages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483513461

Book preview

gap.

Chapter 1

The gap is natural; it is part of our human limitations. But it doesn’t help to be abandoned by your parents, pierced through the feet and tied down to a mountainside to die. That’s what happened to Rex. His father had been playing around with a boy, and was cursed to have a son who would grow up to take his life. So the old man acted first and gave Rex to a servant to dispose of him. Fortunately for Rex, the servant took pity on him and gave him to a childless family in another town.

Growing up Rex learned that his fate was to kill his father and marry his mother, and, to avoid this fate, he left his adopted family and set out for Thebes where his original family lived. We Greeks believe in fate. That’s what makes tragedy. The Doctor in Vienna said that the unconscious was the driving force, not fate, but, as I said, he didn’t have faith in the divine. Whatever, Rex met his true father on the road to Thebes, and the rest is history.

With heroes you can never tell when they are dreaming or when they’re awake, even if you can see. They have that look in their eyes somewhere between blindness and sight, like the witch complained about Yul—that dreamy look. Well, Rex had that look as he road along towards Thebes on his Vespa. He didn’t really see his dad barreling towards him in his Hummer, but, once again, there was that mist that the witch emerged from. You get that a lot in Greece, but it’s a dreamy country.

In the mist the old man bumped his son as they passed, and forced Rex off the road. The Vespa a wreck in the ditch, Rex dragged his aching foot up the slope littered with beer cans, grabbing a broken wine bottle, to where his old man stood, beside the Hummer, peering into the mist. We have always had good wine in Greece, but the label was long gone from the weapon that Rex secured in his rage. When he stood face to face with his father, the old man was fingering his sidearm, uneasily, and Rex just lost it, as I said earlier, and nearly tore out the royal guts right there on the road the Thebes. Then he hauled the carcass into the back of the Hummer and drove on.

As he drove, Rex heard the old man groaning in the back, and then mumbled, What do you think you’re doing. Are you crazy? You’ll never get away with this.

I’m getting away from something bigger than this, old man, Rex said, looking in the rear-view mirror.

What’s bigger than assaulting the King of Thebes?

Killing your father, that’s what.

The old man remembered the curse that he would be killed by his son, and found it all very ironic in his agony.

As the king expired in the back of his Hummer, there appeared on a boulder beside the road a strange creature, blocking entrance into Thebes. The body of the creature was a lion while its head was that of a human female. It had wings on its back and its tail was a serpent. As the Hummer approached, the sphinx was standing on its back legs, wings spread, as its tail slithered in the road. To enter Thebes, Rex had to answer the riddle of the sphinx.

It seems that females, be they goddess, witch or sphinx, have riddles for the hero along his way. They’re part of the journey, part of the gap. I know; I was female myself. The Doctor from Vienna asked what do females want. From my experience they want mystery, and their riddles prove it. The gap is mystery, and the female guards it like the sphinx did at Thebes.

What in the morning walks on four legs, at noon on two, and in the evening on three? roared out the sphinx. And the more legs, the weaker be?

As a young man, Rex was impulsive. He had killed the king in a rage, and operated, for the most part on intuition. Later he would search for meaning and came to me for insight, but as most young heroes he was totally unconscious.

Man! he said, without hesitation. On all fours as an infant, upright when mature, and with a cane when old.

Suddenly the creature’s wings wilted, its tail receded like the other leg of an aged man, and it came down with its front legs onto the boulder. It tumbled off the rock and into the ditch beside the road like Rex’s Vespa—a wreck amongst the beer cans and wine bottles, and, without looking back, Rex revved the Hummer and drove into Thebes.

Inside the walls he saw a well-preserved middle-aged woman, waving at him from a temple steps. Her priestly duties had served her well, and she looked ravishing in her ceremonial dress, but she was taken aback when she saw the handsome, young hero at the wheel of her husband’s Hummer. She walked, languidly, down the temple steps, fixed her painted eyes on Rex, glanced in the back at the lifeless carcass of the king, and made the necessary adjustments. Women are flexible that way; I know. Soon the news of her other master, the demise of the sphinx, spread in the streets of Thebes, and that sealed the deal. She got into the passenger seat of the Hummer, and directed Rex to the royal palace.

All my young heroes were totally unconscious. It seems that mortals start out selfish and powerless, and, after their journey, end up selfless and powerful. Sure, they can do wondrous things when they are young, but it’s all intuition. The journey really begins when they start asking questions; that’s when they come to me. All I do is encourage them to wake up from the dream that they are living. The journey is about awareness; they still have to trust their intuition when they wake up, without being swept away like Rex on the road to Thebes.

My heroes were all swept away at Troy. It all started when Paris was swept away with Helen, more female trouble, and took her home with him. The goddesses gave him his choice, and he chose desire. The rest is history.

Both Yul and Ace went to Troy to retrieve the abducted beauty, but they were recruited by Aggie, the brother of Helen’s husband, in very different ways. They were very different heroes. When Aggie came for them they were both young and unconscious, like Rex, but their differences were obvious.

Yul was lord of Ithaca, wedded to Penny, weaver of the tapestry of dreams, father of Tell, heir to Ithaca. Yul had built their family house around the oldest tree on the island, while his father, a widower, lived nearby and tended his garden, leaving the rest to Yul. When Aggie came, Yul was on his rider mower, cutting the rolling lawn that separated his house from the cliffs overlooking the wine-dark sea.

Yul was mowing erratically, cutting down bougainvillea bushes, leaving their brilliant blossoms trailing behind him, pretending to be deranged so that Aggie would leave him behind. Aggie had the infant, Tell, brought out onto the lawn and placed in the path of Yul’s rider mower, and the father avoided his child and proved his sanity, even at the cost of exposing his ruse. How different than Rex’s father, who so easily disposed of his son to unsuccessfully avoid the fate of parricide. Even Aggie sacrificed his daughter, Ginny, to gain a favorable breeze to carry his fleet to Troy. Not Yul, for he was a different father right from the start.

As I said, Ace had a mortal father, one he left behind, not nearby, tending his garden, but far away, while Ace lived with his mother, the sea-nymph Tee. When word was out that Aggie was recruiting for Troy, Tee dressed Ace in women’s cloths and hid him amongst her bridge ladies when Aggie made his call. She didn’t want to lose her son to Aggie’s family drama, even though she had made him almost immortal by dipping him into the sacred waters. Almost, because the heel that she held him by never benefited from the waters, and remained fatefully mortal.

Aggie found the ladies around their bridge table on the poolside patio at Tee’s place. Ace was in a pretty frock with a flowery print, holding his cards and looking down at them with as much modesty as a hero can muster. Aggie circled the patio, looking into at the ladies’ cards and nodding in encouragement. When he stood over Ace and looked at his cards, he reached out, as if to touch them, but pulled the thick hair on Ace’s forearm instead. The greatest warrior of them all howled, and the supreme commander of the Greek expedition to Troy welcomed him