Part 79

Demo attempted to teach him hunting.

Randy proved that, with considerable effort and practice, he would never be a hunter. The trees chosen as targets survived unmarked. Arrows vanished into unlikely places.

Chariots in lieu of cars did not sell to well. First, Randy was scared of horses. Second, he couldn't tell his gee from his haw. Third, he wasn't interested.

However, one aspect of Demo's world did indeed interest Randy.

At the evening meal Theresa chanced by, was introduced, and Randy's eyes lit up. Rural atmosphere, bucolic settings - in the right company they could be tolerable.

He started by telling Theresa of all the wonders of the 20th century. She suggested he drink less wine.

He explained to her the pleasures of flying. She gently suggested he learn to drive a chariot.

He told her of the convenience of food dispensing machines. She explained to him how gardens could be grown.

They fascinated each other.

Cronus made known to Demo that he could now handle sending Randy back to his own time and place.

Demo explained this to Randy.

Randy looked at Theresa, who looked wide-eyed at Randy.

"No way! I'm here, and here I'll stay!"

Demo looked at them both, nonplused.

He reported the state of events to Cronus. Cronus consulted with Zeus.

"Ridiculous," Zeus growled. "Ship him out!"

"Absolutely not!" Hera cried. "It's very romantic. Let him stay."

Being a wise husband, Zeus recanted.

Should you have read of the mysterious disappearance of Randy Bocksteil, and wondered what happened, you now have the details.

Randy became a mediocre farmer. He learned the rudiments of hunting, of skinning and quartering deer.

He learned, alas, how to make the potent wine of the region.

When newcomers visit the village, and Randy has sampled his own wine, he explains to them the wonders of the 20th century.

They suggest he drink less wine.

It was said of Dionysius that, if he did not steal it, he would do without it.

It was said of Dionysius that, if he did not kill, he would call the day a waste.

And so it was.

Dionysius came with a band of pirates from a peninsula lying far to the west. He came at night, landing on the shores of Greece in the early dawn of day. He killed a soldier guarding that shore.

Dionysius killed without hatred, killed quickly. Some joyed in toying with their victims, inflicting pain. They wished to stretch out the victory. They reveled in the growing fear felt by their opponent. Watching in glee as their opponent realized his impending fate and became increasingly desperate, they delayed the inevitable. Then, when the game began to wear, they cruelly and slowly mutilated their prey. Eventually, tiring of the game, they dispatched the helpless victim.