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slop of seawater over the sides, and our boat seeming to go backward, as in a nightmare. The black boat was irrevocably gaining on us. The smells of wet wood, pitch pine, and the sea always bring back those terrifying moments. The enemy boat came out of the spray with its fierce eyes staring and its sea-worn battering ram like the tusk of a mythical beast. It approached, gathering speed from its oars, until its bowsprit was poised to pierce our virgin hull. The satyrs crouched on deck, ready to leap aboard our ship and take us.
    â€œJump!” Alcaeus commanded as the satyrs from the black ship rushed to capture him. I looked at him one last time, tears blinding me. But I could still blurrily see his beloved face. I jumped overboard and began to swim as if furies were behind me.
    â€œWe’ll meet again,” he screamed, “in this world or the next!”
    I swam like mad for shore while my breath still held.
    Because I had loved him but never wholly possessed him, he stayed in my mind like a myth through subsequent adventures. When we met again, we were both older, but were we any wiser?
    Shipwrecked, parted from Alcaeus, swimming for dear life to the shore of my green island, I found myself unmoored from time. I became weary, exhausted. My breath felt as if it would fail me. Then, just as I thought I was going down, a sharp nudge in my buttocks awakened me and I looked down to find myself buoyed by dolphins. These playful creatures leapt and dove around me, lifting me up when I was most exhausted. They ferried me to shore on a deserted coast and left me there to brave the elements.
    A search party had been sent out for me, led by my grandfather, but of course I did not know this at the time. I lived on the sandy coast for days, until my lips were parched and I was so hungry I took to eating crabs that I caught and cracked open. My chiton torn into rags, my skin burned from the sun, I hardly looked like a woman at all—let alone the boy I was masquerading as—but rather like a strange human crab scuttling along the beach.
    I came to know why our ancestors worshiped Poseidon, god of the sea-blue mane, above all other gods. The sea is the source of life for an island people. But it is even more capricious than golden Aphrodite who was born from it, bearing its wildness. The ocean’s roar nearly convinced me to abandon Aphrodite for Poseidon. Perhaps it was because I wavered in my fidelity to the goddess that she cursed me. Aphrodite is a goddess who tolerates no disloyalty. Actually, that is one of the great characteristics of the gods—fierce jealousy of each other. The gods are babies with the appetites of grown men and women. That’s why they torment us so.
    I do not know how long I lived on that timeless beach dreaming of Alcaeus to keep myself alive. Day gave way to night, and night to day. I built a hut for myself and learned to catch fish in my bare hands. I wove leaves for my hat and rushes for my bed. After fear left me, I was proud that I could endure this life. And then I was saved yet again. My grandfather arrived with his men in a small boat, expecting to find me dead. They had been circling the seas in search, of me, and fear for my fate had made my grandfather furious instead of tender.
    â€œPittacus would have you killed for conspiring with Alcaeus,” he screamed. “You are a little fool who hurts no one but herself and her family. But I have saved you. I have made a pact with Pittacus to marry you off instead….I have found this certain Cercylas of Andros who seeks a wife of noble family. He has agreed to take you despite your rebellious nature.”
    â€œDespite my rebellious nature!” I spat. “Are you my grandfather or my jailer?”
    My grandfather’s brow lowered in ferocity. Whatever pity he might have shown me was now undone. We sailed back to Eresus, without exchanging a word.
    So I was to be married to someone ugly but sufficiently rich to