The Bigger Picture

Menelaus paused a moment in the telling of his story and looked deeply into Telemakhe's eyes. "'Laertes' daughter, Odysseus,' said Proteus, 'She it is who is lost. I have seen her on Kalypso's island crying and crying. She has no boat, no crew to take her across the winedark sea, and so she languishes in that deity's garrulous care.

"'Her fate lays not in remaining on that island, nor is it your fate to starve here on this one, but to continue home until such day as you and Helen are taken to the Elysian fields. You and your wife shall one day sup with the divine in Rhadamanthys' court.' Proteus then touched my shoulder reassuringly before diving into the sea swells.

"The next morning the winds once more swept across the waters. We pushed the boats from shore and resumed our journeying, but to Egypt first where we made sacrifices. I also heaped a burning pyre in honour of my brother, Agamemnon, performing what funeral rites we could. From there it was a steady voyage home. Helen and I felt nothing but a moving peace as we sailed unhindered and direct to those shores we loved most."

Santa Menelaus.

Copyright © 1998 Katherine Phelps