Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

only the best pieces of this frieze," I heard one of the men say, dressed in a strange, heavy-looking outfit. I didn't know exactly what he was saying, but I heard the intent, loud and clear, when one of the hammers got hefted in my direction.
    No no no! I thought as loudly as possible at the man in the suit. Tell your man to stop! I was speaking in mental Greek, of course. Despite my frantic pleas, I was pretty sure my end had come, but to my surprise, the suited man put a hand on the worker's shoulder.
    "Not here," he said slowly, looking at me with a slightly puzzled expression. "We'll take this section back with us."
    And that's how I ended up getting a place in the British Museum.
    All of a sudden, there were people everywhere. Men and women strolled down marble halls and admired artifacts from foreign nations, and I got my fair share of looks and exclamations. It turned out that English wasn't all that difficult to learn, and soon I could understand what they were saying. I was now on an island far, far away from Greece, and lucky to still be in one piece. I was seeing new things, really living for the first time in decades, and the only thing that could have made it better was… Well, okay, there were a lot of ways that this could have been better, but the only one I focused on was Eryx. He would return to Stageira and find me gone. If I had still prayed, I would have prayed for him to follow me here, but I didn't think it was necessary. After two thousand years, Eryx was probably one of the most resourceful men on the planet. He'd find me. And in the meantime…
    In the meantime, I learned things. I learned languages. I learned art. I learned that I could influence other people if I shouted at them loud enough. Even after pieces of the Parthenon came to rest here, and my exhibit became less popular, I still had enough visitors that I learned about the history of the British Empire, the names of all the Queen's children, and what the hilarious purpose of a bustle was. I could push the people who visited me to speak on certain subjects, and very gradually, I learned to read from the pamphlets they held in their hands. It was fun, actually.
    Eryx finally found me in the fall of 1945. England was still reeling from the war, and the museum was a quiet, nearly abandoned place. When I first saw him, I barely recognized him; he had a curving mustache and wore a bowler hat and dark glasses. He looked exhausted, nothing like the vibrant man I knew. When he stopped in front of me, with desperation and depression written in the lines of his face, I couldn't even think for a moment.
    "Thanos…" he whispered.
    Eryx? What happened to you?
    "Oh, God." He suddenly slumped down to the floor, and all I could do was watch as he began to weep. It hurt me to see him in so much pain.
    What? What's wrong?
    He didn't speak, he couldn't, and all I could do was push a sense of comfort toward him, the weight of the unending affection I felt for him. It didn't seem to help. He just cried harder, and I flashed back to the child he had been, so long ago, but so much more complicated now.
    Eventually, he began to speak, haltingly, and I learned that the last of his children had died in France last year, lost to one of the greatest and most tragic battles in human history. It was a strange revelation for me, to realize that for all the time that I had been trapped in stone, Eryx had been living in the world, loving and fighting and watching generations die in pain and glory. None of his offspring had inherited his immortality, and it wore on him. He was so much older than I in all the ways that mattered, and I felt helpless to make anything better. What did we share now, except an ancient promise and a strange, emotional interdependence? Hardly anything. Tiny pieces of history obscured by years of absence.
    I was on the verge of telling him to give up on me when he said, "I would have abandoned all hope then if I hadn't had you to come back to. You're the only thing that stays, Thanos." He sighed deeply, finally back in control. "I'm sorry this has taken so long. I never thought it would be like this. I thought I would discover the cure and bring you back in the first decade of my search." His chuckle was bitter. "I was so naïve in my youth."
    You were hopeful. There's nothing wrong with that.
    "I feel like I've lost most of my hope," he confessed, wiping his damp face with a handkerchief. Amazingly, no one else had come down the hall