I awoke to a night's sky.
There was wind, but it was warm, comforting. I tried to rise; pain, excruciating pain, in my stomach. A gunshot wound; I received it late, in a battle to liberate a capital from a dictator. I can remember it all; the look Jess gave me, as I left. She wasn't angry, or even resigned. She was hopeful, furiously, magnificently hopeful, optimistic; she had held me, as tightly as she could, the night before I left, and told me I would come back to her, I would.
I groaned, and felt a hand upon my body, pushing me down gently.
"Hush now. Your wounds are grave, and rest is what you need."
Her face came into view; my vision dimmed, as tiredness took me.
She smiled at me.
********
She was humming, in the corner. It was still night, or I had slept for the day; the room smelt like lavender. I wouldn't have known that, but my mother had always hung lavender in the kitchen, when I grew up.
She turned, and looked at me.
"You have slept for a long time. You are almost healed. Then, you can be on your way."
I sat up, and felt down; I was fine, if a little stiff. I stiffened, noticing I was naked. She watched me, from the corner of her eyes. I reddened.
She laughed, turning; she looked soft to me. She was thin, almost waifish; her ears stuck out, from under her hair. Her smile was amazing; it rose somewhat shyly, and she kept looking away from me when she saw my gaze. She tucked her hair behind an ear; I started to see it was pointed, a little. She saw, and grimaced a little.
"On my way? Where am I? I remember..."
She nodded. "You were hurt, Ryan, on a battlefield. You were brought here, to be made better; to..." She trailed off, and looked away. I did not ask her how she knew my name.
I crawled over to her, and took her hand; I couldn't help it, she looked so utterly sad in that moment. She looked at me gratefully, before going red and taking her hand from me.
She stood, in a simple, straight movement.
"I will get us food." She left, and I lay down, and inspected the room.
The roof was beams, but not thick wood; more, that which you could collect from the water's edge. The walls were reeds, collected and woven so tightly as to keep the weather out.
Laid about were small items of habitation, in a primitive sense; there were the furs on the ground, in which I lay; a small set of drawers held clothing; I dimly remembered being awake, as she changed. The way her body looked, unclothed, naked; I shook myself.
She came back inside, and looked at me. I sat, and folded my arms.
"I need some more information."
She nodded, smiling a little. "I told you. You were wounded, and-"
"Yes, but how did I come to be here? I was in southern Africa, but..."
She nodded again. "I do not know how you found my shores, but I do know the general story. They do not ever send me the bad ones. No, far from it, Ryan."
She sighed. "Do not ask me my name. If I tell you, I reveal my hand, my secrets, and you will have to make a choice. Instead, let us both simply say that I will keep you here until you are well."
I shook my head. "Not good enough."
She raised her chin, fire in her eyes. "It will have to be, as it is all I will give."
She turned, and began messing with the fire that twirled and spluttered, before building and boiling the water in the pot. She dropped some pieces of meat into the water, and continued cooking.
I looked around further, for details, but there was nothing, really; the room was primitive, without anything electrical. She had a small fire, with somewhat of a chimney in the middle, made of clay. The drawers were made of ornate wood, unpolished, carved with fantastical designs.
"Are you comfortable?" She asked me. I'm sure she was watching, even as I looked around the space.
"Yes," I said. An uncomfortable silence.
"Look, why can't I know any details? I just..."
She came over to me, and took my hand. Her lips opened, and her tongue ran lightly across her upper lip; I started a little.
"I am sorry. If you would me tell you my story, I will, but that means you will have to choose. I would you were better first, but..." She shrugged, before looking up, straight into my eyes, for the first time.
I was a deer, caught in the headlights. I had never, will never, see a beauty like hers, never again. She was a full moon on a beautiful summer night, cruising over Caribbean seas. She was a Mediterranean beauty, with the dignity of an queen. She was ethereal, supernatural, and I was nothing. Caught.
I wanted, as I had never. I wished to press myself against those lips, to bury myself in her. To look at her was to bring myself pain, for I so longed to touch her.
Some of what I felt must have shown in my eyes, for she smiled a little in reaction.
"I..." It took me a moment to collect my thoughts. I set my jaw. Jessica. Think about Jess. "Tell me."
She nodded, unsurprised. "My name is Calypso, and I was placed here, on this isle, by the Gods. I do not know if they still exist, or if they were killed; I was absented from time, when I was imprisoned here. I remember the sounds of battle, and it has been a very long time since I was last visited by Hermes." She looked away.
"My sin was that I sided against the gods. Thus, here, they trapped me; I can play no role in time. I am only ever a way station for those like you. Men, who cannot stay. Men, who I cannot help but fall in love with."
