"Oh My Gods" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tera Lynn Childs)

Okay, I have not actually met her yet because she didnтАЩt bother to come to the wedding in America, but arenтАЩt all stepsisters evil?

(Myself not included, of course.)

Damian looks at Mom, embarrassed. тАЬShe had other commit-ments.тАЭ

Yeah right. What he really means is she doesnтАЩt approve of this any more than I do. Only he couldnтАЩt make her come to the airport like Mom had made me move to Greece. Score one for Stella. Maybe I should take lessons.

тАЬOh,тАЭ Mom says quietly. тАЬI guess weтАЩll just meet her when we get . . . home.тАЭ

ItтАЩs very hard not to puke on my shoes. Home? Like his house will ever be home. Like any house except the burgundy and cream bungalow weтАЩd lived in since I was born will ever be home. Mom must be seriously twisted by love hormones.

тАЬHere we go.тАЭ Damian leads us down an escalator and onto a train waiting at the platform.

We file onto the train, Mom and I sitting while he stands in front of us. I watch out the opposite window as the train starts out of the station.

This is not my first time on a trainтАФwe rode the subway in New York once on vacationтАФbut it takes me a few stops to get used to the stop-and-go motion. Then, as we pull into the thirdтАФor fourth 21



or fifth, I kinda lost trackтАФstation I actually notice something besides the rolling in my stomach.

The station has a display, like a museum exhibit, on the wall behind the platform. There is some old stuff, like pots and plates and scraps of fabric, and a bunch of plaques with bits of history and timelines and stuff. A sign above it all reads, тАЬDomestic Life in Ancient GreeceтАЭ in really big English letters, with the Greek ones right below.

Hmm. Pretty cool, I guess.

If youтАЩre into Greek history and all.

The train pulls out and I manage to both keep my balance and control the motion sickness. When we pull into the next station IтАЩm looking for the display.

This time, the sign says, тАЬThe Cradle of Democracy.тАЭ A huge mosaic fills up most of the wall, showing a huge crowd of men staring at one guy standing on a platform. The one guy looks like he might be making a speech or something. There are no women in the crowd. Or, for that matter, anything but old white guys. Typical.

As the doors glide shut, I flop back against the bench and cross my arms over my chest. I hope this country has evolved from the stone age. IтАЩm not a feminist or anything, but I like my rights and IтАЩd like to keep them. The ancient world was not very equal opportunity.

We slide into the next station and IтАЩm almost dreading what this display will be about. Gladiators getting mauled to death? The horrific slave trade? Thousands being slaughtered at some huge, Troy-like siege? I glance out the window panel, prepared for the worst, and my eyes zero in on one word: тАЬMarathon.тАЭ Before I even 22



think about it, IтАЩm off the train and running to the exhibit. ItтАЩs all about the marathon, as in the ancient one run by Pheidippides in 490 BC. The original cross-country race. There are pictures of Marathon, the site of the battle victory that Pheidippides ran to Athens to announce, and of the spot in Athens where he supposedly dropped dead after making the announcement. There are actual spearheads from that time like the ones that might have been used in the battle. There are ancient sandals like the ones he may have worn for his famous run.

Thank goodness for Nike. I could never run in sandals.

тАЬHere she is,тАЭ I hear Damian say.

I turn just as Mom rushes up and throws her arms around me.

тАЬNever run off like that again,тАЭ she shouts.

Practically the whole station turns to stare at us.