The day everything went wrong was the day it was all supposed to go right.
It was Ann’s sixteenth birthday. She had been waiting for what seemed like forever, and now that the day was here, she almost didn’t know what to do with herself. She was in an uncharacteristically good mood when she woke up that sunny June morning, and she smiled the whole time as she got dressed.
“Good morning, Ann!” her mother, Cassiopeia, cried as she burst into the room. Hastily, Andromeda held her shirt against her chest. Cassiopeia laughed, for too long. “Oh, don’t be silly. I’ve seen it all before. I birthed you, remember.” Ann blushed and rolled her eyes. Cassiopeia sighed. “Well, hurry up. We’re headed off in fifteen minutes, and I know you want your presents.”
It was Ann’s sixteenth birthday. She had been waiting for what seemed like forever, and now that the day was here, she almost didn’t know what to do with herself. She was in an uncharacteristically good mood when she woke up that sunny June morning, and she smiled the whole time as she got dressed.
“Good morning, Ann!” her mother, Cassiopeia, cried as she burst into the room. Hastily, Andromeda held her shirt against her chest. Cassiopeia laughed, for too long. “Oh, don’t be silly. I’ve seen it all before. I birthed you, remember.” Ann blushed and rolled her eyes. Cassiopeia sighed. “Well, hurry up. We’re headed off in fifteen minutes, and I know you want your presents.”
Ann beamed. Most of the time, her mother was strict, controlling, and way overprotective. And most of the time, Ann was angry and bitter. Not that her mother knew that. It was better to conceal her frustration, because outbursts never got her anywhere. In her mother’s eyes, she was the perfect daughter: quiet, obedient, quick to please, respectful.
But on this day, everything was going to be perfect. Her sweet sixteen. Of course, the whole day was to be spent in her parents’ presence. Cassiopeia did not approve of friends. She said that who one surrounded oneself with was very important, and so it was only proper to associate with the best of people. It seemed like she had screened every girl (and only the girls) in all of San Francisco, but none were deemed to be good enough to be Ann’s friends. She tried not to mind, because she didn’t want anything marring this perfect day.
Cassiopeia left the room and Ann pulled on her shirt. Then she hesitated, glancing at her makeup table. To accessorize or not to accessorize? she mused. Making a decision, she hurried over to the table and began to primp.
Her room was quite the teenage dream. She had a queen-sized bed covered in a fluffy pink bedspread and about ten pillows. To the right of the bed, a large window looked out into the small yard, which was really more of a small patch of grass than a real yard. Flanking her accessory table were two doors, one that led to her walk-in closet and one to her bathroom. Numerous bookshelves lined the walls, holding all of her possessions.
She finished her makeup and grabbed her favorite bag. After stuffing her phone in it, she skipped downstairs and burst into the dining room.
“Happy birthday!” cried her mother and father in unison. Her father, Cepheus, was seated at the head of the table with his laptop in front of him as always. Cassiopeia stood by the counter.
“Thank you!” Ann said, smiling politely. Her mother strode toward her and wrapped her in a bony hug, then took the girl’s shoulders and steered her to her place at the table, where a small pile of gifts lay waiting.
Ann opened her presents. There were cheesy Hallmark greetings and gift cards from relatives she never saw, a pretty iPad case from her grandmother, a chocolate bar from her father, and -
“KEYS!” Ann screamed, leaping up from her chair in wild glee, the car keys clutched in her hand. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!”
Her father sighed, but he was smiling. “Of course, dear. It’s in the garage.”
“You start lessons tomorrow,” her mother added.
They set off a few minutes later, Ann still grinning from ear to ear. It had been love at first sight with her and the sleek red BMW. She had sat in its front seat and marveled at the beautiful interior, then got out and trailed her fingers delicately across its gleaming, pristine paint.
Now, she sat in her father’s older - but just as clean and marvelous - silver BMW as they drove to her favorite diner for breakfast. The chocolate bar, which she’d brought along for their later stop at Golden Gate Park, sat next to her on the seat, and to give her hands something to do, she picked it up and tucked it just so in her bag.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of pancakes and popcorn coupled with a bland and cheesy yet perfectly okay chick flick. As the three of them stepped out of the theatre, blinking in the bright sunlight, Cassiopeia’s phone suddenly rang.
Casually, she pulled it from her pocket and placed it against her ear. “Hello?” She was smiling. “Who is this?” The smile was gone, replaced by a frown that quickly changed to an expression of fear. “No… I… Of course… But…” As Ann watched, more and more blood drained from her face until she was as white as a statue and just as still. “I understand… But…” The little family stood in the middle of the sidewalk, the people streaming all around them completely forgotten. “I will. Goodbye.”
She turned off the phone and simply stood there, staring at it as if she’d forgotten what it was. Then she snapped out of it. “Okay. Ann, we’re going home.”
“What?” she squeaked. “But… but it’s my birthday. We were going to…” Her voice trailed off.
“We’re going home,” Cassiopeia said firmly, and started marching off in the direction of the parked car, Cepheus following meekly behind.
When they reached the house, Ann was ordered to her room. A few minutes later, she heard the door open and shut, and watched her mom get into her car and drive off. Ann sighed sadly.
“Ann?” There came a tentative knock at the door.
“Dad?”
The door opened. “Your mother has to go do… something. She hasn’t told me. I’m sure she’ll be back soon. Until then, just sit tight in here, okay?”
Ann sighed again. “I will.” There went her perfect day. She couldn’t believe this had happened. The most likely explanation was that something had happened at her mother’s interior decorating company. Though certainly nothing like this had ever happened before. Her mother ran a tight ship. Nothing ever went wrong. She had everything organized down to the very last detail.
Ann shook her head. Whatever it was, it was a mystery, and it was ruining her birthday.
Her mother came back at 3:07 PM. Ann was sitting in the window, staring at a book without really seeing it, when the car pulled up and her mother got out.
Thirty seconds later, Cassiopeia barged into the room, Cepheus trailing behind and looking rather alarmed. “Andromeda!” her mother said, and Ann could see why her father looked so distraught. Cassiopeia’s hair was a mess and her clothes rumpled - which never happened - but the scariest thing about her was her face. Her eyes were wide and bugged, darting around the room with intensity. She kept licking her lips, over and over, in the manner of someone who is not aware what they’re doing. And she never called her daughter ‘Andromeda’. It was always Ann. Not even ‘Sweetie’ or ‘dear’. Always, always Ann.
“Um, y-yes, Mother?” Ann was frightened, though she’d never admit it.
“Oh, oh, you have to listen to me. I did a terrible thing. I’m sorry!” She buried her face in her hands, and when she lifted it, her face glistened with tears. Ann recoiled in shock. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. Oh, what will they do to me? Your poor, poor mother.”
“What did you do?” Ann asked timidly.
“I was prideful. I boasted. I angered the gods.”
“The gods?” she replied in disbelief. “You mean… What?”
“I boasted of my beauty, and I didn’t recant, they told me… to take it back…”
Ann stood there in shock. She had no idea what to do. But before she could think of anything, there was the unmistakable loud boom of thunder. She turned toward the window, which was being lashed by angry vertical rivers of rain.
Cassiopeia whimpered and turned away. Ann’s head spun. None of this made sense. The sudden rain, her mother’s behavior, the thing she kept talking about that she’d done. And gods. Why? Ann wondered helplessly. And why on my birthday?
With a sudden shriek Cassiopeia turned and fled down the stairs, calling, “I’ll fix it! Or we’ll all die!”
Ann stood there mutely, staring at her father, who was equally silent. “What was that?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “None of this makes sense.”
“Why was she talking about gods?”
Cepheus sighed, and said, almost reluctantly, “When we first met, she talked a lot about these gods. Said that they controlled the world. I didn’t believe her, of course, and eventually she stopped bringing it up. I don’t know what made her… like this… today.”
It was maybe the longest speech she’d ever heard him utter. “She seems…” Ann didn’t want to say it. She took a deep breath. “Insane.”
“I don’t know, Ann. I think we just have to wait.”
She fell asleep, finally. It seemed like mere minutes before she was woken by a rough shake on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw her mother standing over her.
“I know what to do now,” Cassiopeia said in a curiously calm voice. “Come with me, Andromeda. I’ll explain on the way.”
“Where are we going?” Ann asked, instinctively wary. She sat up slowly.
Her mother licked her lips. “The ocean. Of course, the ocean. His domain.”
“Um. Well, that all sounds great, but I think I’ll stay here.”
The calm expression suddenly twisted into one of anger. “No. You will come with me.” Ann yelped as her mother grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the bed. Her mother had always been strong, but this was something else. Something scary.
As they went down the stairs, they passed Cepheus coming up. “Dad!” Ann said. “Dad! Help me! Help!”
And he hesitated. Then he shook his head. Ann stared in disbelief.
Her mother pulled her through the house and out to the car in the stinging rain, but all the fight had gone out of Ann.
“I boasted,” Cassiopeia said, the calm voice back, as she started the car. “I boasted of my beauty, I said I was the most beautiful thing alive.”
Ann stared out the window, trying to figure out where they were going.
“That angered Poseidon. His nymphs are more beautiful than any living creature - he designed them to be. He told me to recant, but I - I was too proud. So he’s sent this storm to kill us all. Unless - unless I do penance.”
“What is the penance?” Ann asked, though she already had an idea. She closed her eyes, hoping.
“Why, you are. You are the penance. You will set all of this right.”
When the boat arrived at Alcatraz, Ann was too cold and miserable to appreciate the cliche. Of course they were at Alcatraz. Where else?
Her mother was muttering now, but Ann couldn’t make out the words. She supposed that this should frighten her.
“Come,” Cassiopeia said, raising her voice. All the same, Ann could barely hear her over the howling wind. The storm was definitely worse here.
Ann followed meekly as her mother led her down a path to the left. It wasn’t long before Cassiopeia stopped, grabbing Ann’s arm as if to prevent her from running away. Ann sneezed. She was drenched and cold to the bone, still wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and jeans.
A tug on her arm surprised her, causing her to stumble and fall, her knees slamming painfully against the path.
“Get up,” her mother said harshly, pulling on the arm she still held. Ann struggled to do so. As she regained her footing, she saw that both knees were red with blood.
What’s happening to me? she wondered as her mother guided her over the fence. Why aren’t I fighting? I should be fighting tooth and nail, and I’m just standing here, letting it happen.
But the truth was, deep inside she was relieved. This is an escape, a voice inside her whispered. You can get away… go somewhere better.
Whatever the reason, Ann was feeling increasingly sluggish, as if will and energy were draining out of her. Her vision was going black around the edges. This, combined with the rain, made it nearly impossible to see as she was led down what seemed to be a rock pile.
“Lie down,” came the command, and Ann obliged. She was too tired to do anything different. Too tired… Just lie down and go to sleep, the voice whispered. In the back of her mind, something noticed and wondered about the fact that the voice was male.
She felt ropes tighten around her ankles and wrists. Opening her eyes a tiny bit, she saw her mother tying them to iron loops stuck in various rocks. The iron was shiny and new-looking, as if it has just been placed there that day. It probably has, Ann thought. Just for me. That’s what she was doing when she left.
There were two more ropes, one around her waist and one around her neck. Then her mother left, and Ann was alone.
She must have blacked out, because when she came to, the ocean had risen to cover her up to mid-thigh. The rain showed no sign of having slowed down. In fact, it seemed fiercer.
And for Ann herself, it felt as if someone had swept the cobwebs out of her mind. She was no longer tired of life, no longer apathetic. She was terrified, down to her very core.
“Help me!” she screamed. “Someone, anyone, PLEASE! HELP ME!”
No one came. Of course they didn’t: she was tied to some rocks of a footpath on Alcatraz during the worst storm San Francisco had seen in a very long time.
Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the rain. I’m going to die, she thought, trying the idea out. Me. Dead. Soon.
“Oh my God NO! NO! NO NO NO!” The words burst out involuntarily.
Suddenly, she froze. Was that… a noise? She listened as hard as she could. Yes, that was definitely a noise, a noise like someone moving. But was it a someone or a something?
The noise got louder. Whatever it was, it was moving closer. What do I have to lose? Ann thought, somewhat wildly. Better a quick death than this slow one.
“HELLO?” she shouted as loud as she could. “IS SOMEONE THERE? PLEASE, I NEED HELP.”
The noise got louder and faster, and now she could tell that it was footsteps. “Help…” she tried to call, but her voice failed. She coughed, then sputtered as rain slid down her throat.
“Where are you?” a voice called.
“Here!” she said, summoning up all her breath. “I’m HERE!”
“I see you,” came the reply. “Hold on! I’m coming!”
Like I can do anything else, she thought.
There was a touch on her shoulder, and she turned her head to see a boy, maybe one or two years older than her. “I’ll get you out of here. Don’t worry,” he said in a soothing voice. He started working on one of the knots holding the rope across her throat in place.
About five silent minutes later, Ann was standing up unsteadily. “Thank you,” she said. “I thought I was going to die.” It all hit her then, how close she had come to death, and she started to sob. After a few seconds, she felt the boy step close to her and wrap his arms around her shoulders.
“It’s okay,” he said. After a few seconds, he added quietly, “We have to go.”
Ann nodded against his shoulder, and raised her tear streaked face to look at him. “What’s your name?” she asked, voice rasping.
“Perseus,” he said. “And you?”
Ann hesitated for a second. “Andromeda,” she said finally. Ann just didn’t fit her anymore. She supposed it never really had.
A few weeks later, she was completely recovered.
She was living with Perseus. He had a small apartment in San Francisco, and he promised they would move as soon as they could: she wanted to get as far away from Alcatraz and the city as possible, after what had happened.
Her parents had betrayed her, and that simple fact cut deep to the bone. What kind of mother ties her daughter to the rocks and leaves her to die? What kind of father allows it? Well, hers did.
It seemed like every time she closed her eyes to sleep, she relived the event in horrific detail. The march down the stairs, the acceptance of her father, the drive through the rain and her mother’s nonsensical explanation, the climb into the boat, the row across the choppy water, the walk down the path, the ropes holding her to the rocks: it all was presented to her in bright Technicolor and Surround Sound. Only in her dream, no Perseus came to rescue her. She just remained on the rocks as the water crept higher and higher. It would cover her face and she’d wake up screaming. But every time, Perseus’s arms would be around her.
She didn’t know what she’d do without Perseus. He was by her bed (which was really his bed) pretty much every second he wasn’t at work or buying more soup. He was kind, and gentle, and understanding, willing to talk about it or leave the subject alone or even be silent, whichever she wanted right then. He was dedicated and sweet, and every day Andromeda fell more in love with him.
As she recovered, she learned his story:
His mother was a single teen mom, who struggled to take care of him. After catching the eye of a rich older man with somewhat dubious morals, Perseus had run away. He was eighteen, old enough to legally enter into a lease. Since then, he had been laying low, trying to make some money as a dishwasher.
“One thing I don’t understand,” said Andromeda one day. “How did you find me?” But Perseus just shook his head and looked away.
So Andromeda learned to accept the impossible in what had happened that day, and learned to put it in the back of her mind where it could only come out late at night. And when that happened, she lay awake and wondered, but she could never figure it out. As the years went on, it slipped further and further into the cracks of her mind, until the question hardly ever emerged.
A year after they met, they set off for Nebraska (an adventure on its own). Andromeda chose Nebraska because it was about as far from the ocean as you could get, and as far as she could tell, nothing ever happened there.
Before they left, though, and as soon as Andromeda was well, they scoured the city for her parents. It was a sticky situation they were in, in the legal sense, and they both knew it. Andromeda knew it didn’t look good from the outside: a sixteen year old girl living in an eighteen year old boy’s apartment.
Perseus told her that the best thing to do would be to get emancipated. And she needed her parents for that, much as she never wanted to see them again.
But when she arrived at her old house, there was a new family in it. All of her belongings, all of her family’s belongings, were gone. And no matter how hard they looked, they never found a single thing to suggest that Cepheus and Cassiopeia had ever existed at all.
But on this day, everything was going to be perfect. Her sweet sixteen. Of course, the whole day was to be spent in her parents’ presence. Cassiopeia did not approve of friends. She said that who one surrounded oneself with was very important, and so it was only proper to associate with the best of people. It seemed like she had screened every girl (and only the girls) in all of San Francisco, but none were deemed to be good enough to be Ann’s friends. She tried not to mind, because she didn’t want anything marring this perfect day.
Cassiopeia left the room and Ann pulled on her shirt. Then she hesitated, glancing at her makeup table. To accessorize or not to accessorize? she mused. Making a decision, she hurried over to the table and began to primp.
Her room was quite the teenage dream. She had a queen-sized bed covered in a fluffy pink bedspread and about ten pillows. To the right of the bed, a large window looked out into the small yard, which was really more of a small patch of grass than a real yard. Flanking her accessory table were two doors, one that led to her walk-in closet and one to her bathroom. Numerous bookshelves lined the walls, holding all of her possessions.
She finished her makeup and grabbed her favorite bag. After stuffing her phone in it, she skipped downstairs and burst into the dining room.
“Happy birthday!” cried her mother and father in unison. Her father, Cepheus, was seated at the head of the table with his laptop in front of him as always. Cassiopeia stood by the counter.
“Thank you!” Ann said, smiling politely. Her mother strode toward her and wrapped her in a bony hug, then took the girl’s shoulders and steered her to her place at the table, where a small pile of gifts lay waiting.
Ann opened her presents. There were cheesy Hallmark greetings and gift cards from relatives she never saw, a pretty iPad case from her grandmother, a chocolate bar from her father, and -
“KEYS!” Ann screamed, leaping up from her chair in wild glee, the car keys clutched in her hand. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!”
Her father sighed, but he was smiling. “Of course, dear. It’s in the garage.”
“You start lessons tomorrow,” her mother added.
They set off a few minutes later, Ann still grinning from ear to ear. It had been love at first sight with her and the sleek red BMW. She had sat in its front seat and marveled at the beautiful interior, then got out and trailed her fingers delicately across its gleaming, pristine paint.
Now, she sat in her father’s older - but just as clean and marvelous - silver BMW as they drove to her favorite diner for breakfast. The chocolate bar, which she’d brought along for their later stop at Golden Gate Park, sat next to her on the seat, and to give her hands something to do, she picked it up and tucked it just so in her bag.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of pancakes and popcorn coupled with a bland and cheesy yet perfectly okay chick flick. As the three of them stepped out of the theatre, blinking in the bright sunlight, Cassiopeia’s phone suddenly rang.
Casually, she pulled it from her pocket and placed it against her ear. “Hello?” She was smiling. “Who is this?” The smile was gone, replaced by a frown that quickly changed to an expression of fear. “No… I… Of course… But…” As Ann watched, more and more blood drained from her face until she was as white as a statue and just as still. “I understand… But…” The little family stood in the middle of the sidewalk, the people streaming all around them completely forgotten. “I will. Goodbye.”
She turned off the phone and simply stood there, staring at it as if she’d forgotten what it was. Then she snapped out of it. “Okay. Ann, we’re going home.”
“What?” she squeaked. “But… but it’s my birthday. We were going to…” Her voice trailed off.
“We’re going home,” Cassiopeia said firmly, and started marching off in the direction of the parked car, Cepheus following meekly behind.
When they reached the house, Ann was ordered to her room. A few minutes later, she heard the door open and shut, and watched her mom get into her car and drive off. Ann sighed sadly.
“Ann?” There came a tentative knock at the door.
“Dad?”
The door opened. “Your mother has to go do… something. She hasn’t told me. I’m sure she’ll be back soon. Until then, just sit tight in here, okay?”
Ann sighed again. “I will.” There went her perfect day. She couldn’t believe this had happened. The most likely explanation was that something had happened at her mother’s interior decorating company. Though certainly nothing like this had ever happened before. Her mother ran a tight ship. Nothing ever went wrong. She had everything organized down to the very last detail.
Ann shook her head. Whatever it was, it was a mystery, and it was ruining her birthday.
Her mother came back at 3:07 PM. Ann was sitting in the window, staring at a book without really seeing it, when the car pulled up and her mother got out.
Thirty seconds later, Cassiopeia barged into the room, Cepheus trailing behind and looking rather alarmed. “Andromeda!” her mother said, and Ann could see why her father looked so distraught. Cassiopeia’s hair was a mess and her clothes rumpled - which never happened - but the scariest thing about her was her face. Her eyes were wide and bugged, darting around the room with intensity. She kept licking her lips, over and over, in the manner of someone who is not aware what they’re doing. And she never called her daughter ‘Andromeda’. It was always Ann. Not even ‘Sweetie’ or ‘dear’. Always, always Ann.
“Um, y-yes, Mother?” Ann was frightened, though she’d never admit it.
“Oh, oh, you have to listen to me. I did a terrible thing. I’m sorry!” She buried her face in her hands, and when she lifted it, her face glistened with tears. Ann recoiled in shock. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. Oh, what will they do to me? Your poor, poor mother.”
“What did you do?” Ann asked timidly.
“I was prideful. I boasted. I angered the gods.”
“The gods?” she replied in disbelief. “You mean… What?”
“I boasted of my beauty, and I didn’t recant, they told me… to take it back…”
Ann stood there in shock. She had no idea what to do. But before she could think of anything, there was the unmistakable loud boom of thunder. She turned toward the window, which was being lashed by angry vertical rivers of rain.
Cassiopeia whimpered and turned away. Ann’s head spun. None of this made sense. The sudden rain, her mother’s behavior, the thing she kept talking about that she’d done. And gods. Why? Ann wondered helplessly. And why on my birthday?
With a sudden shriek Cassiopeia turned and fled down the stairs, calling, “I’ll fix it! Or we’ll all die!”
Ann stood there mutely, staring at her father, who was equally silent. “What was that?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “None of this makes sense.”
“Why was she talking about gods?”
Cepheus sighed, and said, almost reluctantly, “When we first met, she talked a lot about these gods. Said that they controlled the world. I didn’t believe her, of course, and eventually she stopped bringing it up. I don’t know what made her… like this… today.”
It was maybe the longest speech she’d ever heard him utter. “She seems…” Ann didn’t want to say it. She took a deep breath. “Insane.”
“I don’t know, Ann. I think we just have to wait.”
She fell asleep, finally. It seemed like mere minutes before she was woken by a rough shake on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw her mother standing over her.
“I know what to do now,” Cassiopeia said in a curiously calm voice. “Come with me, Andromeda. I’ll explain on the way.”
“Where are we going?” Ann asked, instinctively wary. She sat up slowly.
Her mother licked her lips. “The ocean. Of course, the ocean. His domain.”
“Um. Well, that all sounds great, but I think I’ll stay here.”
The calm expression suddenly twisted into one of anger. “No. You will come with me.” Ann yelped as her mother grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the bed. Her mother had always been strong, but this was something else. Something scary.
As they went down the stairs, they passed Cepheus coming up. “Dad!” Ann said. “Dad! Help me! Help!”
And he hesitated. Then he shook his head. Ann stared in disbelief.
Her mother pulled her through the house and out to the car in the stinging rain, but all the fight had gone out of Ann.
“I boasted,” Cassiopeia said, the calm voice back, as she started the car. “I boasted of my beauty, I said I was the most beautiful thing alive.”
Ann stared out the window, trying to figure out where they were going.
“That angered Poseidon. His nymphs are more beautiful than any living creature - he designed them to be. He told me to recant, but I - I was too proud. So he’s sent this storm to kill us all. Unless - unless I do penance.”
“What is the penance?” Ann asked, though she already had an idea. She closed her eyes, hoping.
“Why, you are. You are the penance. You will set all of this right.”
When the boat arrived at Alcatraz, Ann was too cold and miserable to appreciate the cliche. Of course they were at Alcatraz. Where else?
Her mother was muttering now, but Ann couldn’t make out the words. She supposed that this should frighten her.
“Come,” Cassiopeia said, raising her voice. All the same, Ann could barely hear her over the howling wind. The storm was definitely worse here.
Ann followed meekly as her mother led her down a path to the left. It wasn’t long before Cassiopeia stopped, grabbing Ann’s arm as if to prevent her from running away. Ann sneezed. She was drenched and cold to the bone, still wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and jeans.
A tug on her arm surprised her, causing her to stumble and fall, her knees slamming painfully against the path.
“Get up,” her mother said harshly, pulling on the arm she still held. Ann struggled to do so. As she regained her footing, she saw that both knees were red with blood.
What’s happening to me? she wondered as her mother guided her over the fence. Why aren’t I fighting? I should be fighting tooth and nail, and I’m just standing here, letting it happen.
But the truth was, deep inside she was relieved. This is an escape, a voice inside her whispered. You can get away… go somewhere better.
Whatever the reason, Ann was feeling increasingly sluggish, as if will and energy were draining out of her. Her vision was going black around the edges. This, combined with the rain, made it nearly impossible to see as she was led down what seemed to be a rock pile.
“Lie down,” came the command, and Ann obliged. She was too tired to do anything different. Too tired… Just lie down and go to sleep, the voice whispered. In the back of her mind, something noticed and wondered about the fact that the voice was male.
She felt ropes tighten around her ankles and wrists. Opening her eyes a tiny bit, she saw her mother tying them to iron loops stuck in various rocks. The iron was shiny and new-looking, as if it has just been placed there that day. It probably has, Ann thought. Just for me. That’s what she was doing when she left.
There were two more ropes, one around her waist and one around her neck. Then her mother left, and Ann was alone.
She must have blacked out, because when she came to, the ocean had risen to cover her up to mid-thigh. The rain showed no sign of having slowed down. In fact, it seemed fiercer.
And for Ann herself, it felt as if someone had swept the cobwebs out of her mind. She was no longer tired of life, no longer apathetic. She was terrified, down to her very core.
“Help me!” she screamed. “Someone, anyone, PLEASE! HELP ME!”
No one came. Of course they didn’t: she was tied to some rocks of a footpath on Alcatraz during the worst storm San Francisco had seen in a very long time.
Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the rain. I’m going to die, she thought, trying the idea out. Me. Dead. Soon.
“Oh my God NO! NO! NO NO NO!” The words burst out involuntarily.
Suddenly, she froze. Was that… a noise? She listened as hard as she could. Yes, that was definitely a noise, a noise like someone moving. But was it a someone or a something?
The noise got louder. Whatever it was, it was moving closer. What do I have to lose? Ann thought, somewhat wildly. Better a quick death than this slow one.
“HELLO?” she shouted as loud as she could. “IS SOMEONE THERE? PLEASE, I NEED HELP.”
The noise got louder and faster, and now she could tell that it was footsteps. “Help…” she tried to call, but her voice failed. She coughed, then sputtered as rain slid down her throat.
“Where are you?” a voice called.
“Here!” she said, summoning up all her breath. “I’m HERE!”
“I see you,” came the reply. “Hold on! I’m coming!”
Like I can do anything else, she thought.
There was a touch on her shoulder, and she turned her head to see a boy, maybe one or two years older than her. “I’ll get you out of here. Don’t worry,” he said in a soothing voice. He started working on one of the knots holding the rope across her throat in place.
About five silent minutes later, Ann was standing up unsteadily. “Thank you,” she said. “I thought I was going to die.” It all hit her then, how close she had come to death, and she started to sob. After a few seconds, she felt the boy step close to her and wrap his arms around her shoulders.
“It’s okay,” he said. After a few seconds, he added quietly, “We have to go.”
Ann nodded against his shoulder, and raised her tear streaked face to look at him. “What’s your name?” she asked, voice rasping.
“Perseus,” he said. “And you?”
Ann hesitated for a second. “Andromeda,” she said finally. Ann just didn’t fit her anymore. She supposed it never really had.
A few weeks later, she was completely recovered.
She was living with Perseus. He had a small apartment in San Francisco, and he promised they would move as soon as they could: she wanted to get as far away from Alcatraz and the city as possible, after what had happened.
Her parents had betrayed her, and that simple fact cut deep to the bone. What kind of mother ties her daughter to the rocks and leaves her to die? What kind of father allows it? Well, hers did.
It seemed like every time she closed her eyes to sleep, she relived the event in horrific detail. The march down the stairs, the acceptance of her father, the drive through the rain and her mother’s nonsensical explanation, the climb into the boat, the row across the choppy water, the walk down the path, the ropes holding her to the rocks: it all was presented to her in bright Technicolor and Surround Sound. Only in her dream, no Perseus came to rescue her. She just remained on the rocks as the water crept higher and higher. It would cover her face and she’d wake up screaming. But every time, Perseus’s arms would be around her.
She didn’t know what she’d do without Perseus. He was by her bed (which was really his bed) pretty much every second he wasn’t at work or buying more soup. He was kind, and gentle, and understanding, willing to talk about it or leave the subject alone or even be silent, whichever she wanted right then. He was dedicated and sweet, and every day Andromeda fell more in love with him.
As she recovered, she learned his story:
His mother was a single teen mom, who struggled to take care of him. After catching the eye of a rich older man with somewhat dubious morals, Perseus had run away. He was eighteen, old enough to legally enter into a lease. Since then, he had been laying low, trying to make some money as a dishwasher.
“One thing I don’t understand,” said Andromeda one day. “How did you find me?” But Perseus just shook his head and looked away.
So Andromeda learned to accept the impossible in what had happened that day, and learned to put it in the back of her mind where it could only come out late at night. And when that happened, she lay awake and wondered, but she could never figure it out. As the years went on, it slipped further and further into the cracks of her mind, until the question hardly ever emerged.
A year after they met, they set off for Nebraska (an adventure on its own). Andromeda chose Nebraska because it was about as far from the ocean as you could get, and as far as she could tell, nothing ever happened there.
Before they left, though, and as soon as Andromeda was well, they scoured the city for her parents. It was a sticky situation they were in, in the legal sense, and they both knew it. Andromeda knew it didn’t look good from the outside: a sixteen year old girl living in an eighteen year old boy’s apartment.
Perseus told her that the best thing to do would be to get emancipated. And she needed her parents for that, much as she never wanted to see them again.
But when she arrived at her old house, there was a new family in it. All of her belongings, all of her family’s belongings, were gone. And no matter how hard they looked, they never found a single thing to suggest that Cepheus and Cassiopeia had ever existed at all.