~5.24~

The girl said nothing, but just stood there staring at Laurie, as still as could be… as still as a statue, as she had been when Laurie had first noticed her.

“Let’s see,” Laurie said. “Eurus is a Greek name,” she said, repeating her earlier observation with more confidence. It didn’t just sound Greek, it was Greek. She was sure that she remembered the name from somewhere. The name had to be a clue. The girl said so little… that meant the smallest things she said could be important.

Considering the range of subjects Laurie had studied in passing academically, it could very easily have been a character from a play, a philosopher, or a figure from mythology… but whoever Eurus had been, he certainly hadn’t been a stand-out.

Not a main character. Not an important figure.

Mythology seemed unlikely. Greek mythology was all about importance, self and otherwise. Everybody had his or her role to play, especially the “his” roles. She couldn’t swear to being able to recognize all nine of the muses or all the names of the various nymphs, but male deities hadn’t usually had to suffer the indignity of a group identity. They’d been afforded individuality.

Then it came to her… a visual memory of a half sheet of paper on a pressboard desk top. It had been a quiz, in some high school class… it could have been history, it could have been something related to drama or literature. She didn’t remember that. She just remembered the questions: the nine muses, the three graces, the three fates.

The four winds.

“The west wind,” she said. “No, wait. That’s Zephyr, the gay one. East. Eurus is the east wind. I don’t remember any stories about Eurus.”

“Few people do,” the girl said.

“It’s supposed to be unlucky,” Laurie said. “Like the saying, I guess… you know, ‘an ill wind that blows no good’.”

“I met an ill wind once,” the girl said.

“Oh?”

“It dropped a house on me.”