Gateway Arch and Mississippi

“The Gateway Arch,” she said. “This may be my only chance to ride to the top. Are you coming or not?”

Grover and I exchanged looks.

Grover shrugged. “As long as there’s a snack bar without monsters.”

We got into the car with this big fat lady and her dog, a Chihuahua with a rhinestone collar.

We started going up, inside the Arch. I’d never been in an elevator that went in a curve, and my stomach wasn’t too happy about it.

I smiled uneasily at the fat lady. She smiled back, her forked tongue flickering between her teeth.

Wait a minute. Forked tongue? Before I could decide if I’d really seen that, her Chihuahua jumped down and started yapping at me.

“Now, now, sonny,” the lady said. “Does this look like a good time? We have all these nice people here.”

“Well, son,” the fat lady sighed. “If you insist.”

Ice started forming in my stomach. “Um, did you just call that Chihuahua your son?”

“Chimera, dear,” the fat lady corrected. “Not a Chihuahua. It’s an easy mistake to make.”

She rolled up her denim sleeves, revealing that the skin of her arms was scaly and green. When she smiled, I saw that her teeth were fangs. The Chihuahua barked louder, and with each bark, it grew. First to the size of a Doberman, then to a lion. The bark became a roar. The rhinestone dog collar still hung around its neck, and the plate-sized dog tag was now easy to read: CHIMERA—RABID, FIRE-BREATHING, POISONOUS—IF FOUND, PLEASE CALL TARTARUS—EXT. 954.

The snake lady made a hissing noise that might’ve been laughter. “Be honored, Percy Jackson. Lord Zeus rarely allows me to test a hero with one of my broods. For I am the Mother of Monsters, the terrible Echidna!”

There was no place else to go, so I stepped to the edge of the hole. Far, far below, the river glittered.

“If you are the son of Poseidon,” Echidna hissed, “you would not fear water. Jump, Percy Jackson. Show me that water will not harm you. Jump and retrieve your sword. Prove your bloodline.”

But this wasn’t the sea. This was the Mississippi, dead center of the USA.

There was no Sea God here.

“Die, faithless one,” Echidna rasped, and the Chimera sent a column of flame toward my face.

“Father, help me,” I prayed.

I turned and jumped. My clothes on fire, poison coursing through my veins, I plummeted toward the river.

I wasn’t wet. I mean, I could feel the coolness of the water. I could see where the fire on my clothes had been quenched. But when I touched my own shirt, it felt perfectly dry. I looked at the garbage floating by and snatched an old cigarette lighter. No way, I thought. I flicked the lighter. It sparked. A tiny flame appeared, right there at the bottom of the Mississippi.

But the strangest thought occurred to me only last: I was breathing. I was underwater, and I was breathing normally.