Odysseus The Wanderer

Odysseus rehearsed his homecoming many times, whenever he arrived at a village or town. The word spread like hawk's flight when he was sighted. People assembled in the market square, and listened to the grizzled, weary wanderer of back roads and decayed cities tell of days of glory and nights of luxury. He spoke in his still commanding voice of the world in its glittering days before it all collapsed, haphazardly incoherently, erasing all traces of roads, paths, lanes. Everywhere people stepped, they found relics of that past glory. They brought bushels filled with it to the village square. They poured this debris at the feet of Odysseus, and appealed to him, because they were ignorant of the wide world: Great Lord, what did this locket protect? Great Lord, is this the hilt of the sword mighty Ajax wielded? Oh, Master, this coin, this coin, is it a fortune in the palm of my hand? Honored Sir, are there market squares elsewhere that will buy our finds? Honored Sir, is there really a chest of Babylonian gems this key will open? Odysseus rehearsed his homecoming among peasants, they were all peasants now: aristocrats reduced to penury, former kings bereft of thrones and palaces, princesses seeking any gnarled hand in marriage, warriors too weak to carry bronze swords. And Zeus's lightning bolts no longer creased the sky, the oracles were silent, rumors claimed Pan was dead and Aphrodite had returned to the sea. Odysseus wandered without direction through ruined palaces, puzzled, wondering: Could this be my Ithaka? This my sea port? Did these abandoned huts once house my subjects? That dog, lying in sun, too old to move... That speaker's staff... Those discarded axe-heads? But he did not linger long. Hunger and loneliness urged his slow walk across cropless plains, over dry hills, along harborless shorelines, plodding his march, sometimes stumbling, but ever forward, to the next dwelling, where he would be King Odysseus for a day of glory: Your Majesty, we found a buried throne? Did Agamemnon pass judgments sitting on it? Your Majesty, is this the blue cloak Helen wore when she dazzled men, made them forget their reason? Your Majesty, is this the bow of the fabled king, Odysseus?