“Hermes's eyes twinkled. "Martha, may I have the first package, please?"Martha opened her mouth ... and kept opening it until it was as wide as my arm. She belched out a stainless steel canister-an old-fashioned lunch box thermos with a black plastic top. The sides of the thermos were enameled with red and yellow Ancient Greek scenes-a hero killing a lion; a hero lifting up Cerberus, the three-headed dog."That's Hercules," I said. "But how-""Never question a gift," Hermes chided. "This is a collector's item from Hercules Busts Heads. The first season.""Hercules Busts Heads?""Great show." Hermes sighed. "Back before Hephaestus-TV was all reality programming. Of course, the thermos would be worth much more if I had the whole lunch box-”
“I turned to Annabeth and shook my head in exasperation. “Always Hercules. What is it with Hercules?”Annabeth shrugged. “He had a great publicist.”
“Justine pulled her Jag over to the side of the road and stared out at the landscape. I twirled the dial on her police band radio until the signal was clear. She opened her thermos, passed it over to me. I took a sip. The coffee was black, unsugared. That's the way Justine liked just about everything: straight up, no bullshit.”
“What shall I do, singer and first-born, in a world where the deepest black is grey, and inspiration is kept in a thermos? with all this immensity in a measured world? ”
“Look under the passenger seat in a black plastic bin. There should be a book.” Raphael hopped out, dug under the seat, and pulled out a dog-eared copy of The Almanac of Mystical Creatures. “Got it,” I said into the phone. “Page seventy-six.” Raphael flipped the book open and held it up. On the left page a lithograph showed a three-headed dog with a serpent for a tail. The caption under the picture said CERBERUS. “Is that your dog?” Kate asked. “Could be. How the heck did you know the exact page?” “I have perfect memory!” I snorted. She sighed into the phone.“I spilled coffee on that page and had to leave the book open to dry it out. It always opens to that entry now.”
“It doesn't matter if they hate you, or embarrass you, or simply don't appreciate your genius for inventing the internet-""You invented the internet?"It was my idea, Martha said.Rats are delicious, George said."It was my idea!" Hermes said. "I mean the internet, not the rats. But that's not the point.”