Brian Zeus and his Children of the Sun

Brian Zeus had two children whom he, or rather his wife had named. Valhalla, who was aged four, and Calendula, aged seven. He had attempted to disappear both of them at least twice. Brian’s wife Hettie had disappeared herself many years ago and was now co-habiting happily with a lapidary of some note on the Isle of Mull. His name was Malcolm and Hettie was no doubt the new gem that Malcolm was finessing. She liked being finessed and fussed about and admired. Thing was, she tired of if just as you had become utterly devoted to her. She didn’t like that at all.

Brian Zeus was not what people called ‘a good man’ He and his children currently lived on a beach in the north-east area of Edinburgh and survived on stolen Pot Noodles and bottles of milk snatched from doorsteps in the early hours.

The locals called him ‘Sawney Bean’ the maybe-mythical cannibal supposed to be born in East Lothian, not far away at all. Others called him Catweazle due to his straggly beard and hair.

The children were beach-urchins muddied with sand and salt, pungent of drift-plant and sea kelp. They’d have conniptions if you called them ‘urchins’. Urchins were hedgehogs of the sea, spiny and covert, Calendula and her brother were ‘children of the sun’, at least that’s what their father said, and his word was their law.

Brian Zeus had a great many opinions to impart to his children. He’d also taught them the meaning of the word ‘conniption’, so they enjoyed ‘having conniptions’ at the slightest provocation.

Calendula Zeus was rather a sullen little seven-year-old, untrusting and, to be honest, downright awkward and bad tempered. Her father called her Calendula Conniption, and her brother offered his own version of that appellation. ‘Calendulum Connipsy’ was what he called out to her as she stamped her feet and beat the fire with a branch. She not-so-secretly hated him for this.

Brian Zeus had been having difficulties with the proper functioning of the Frontal Lobe part of his brain, only he wasn’t aware of this, which, in some ways, was a blessing. It allowed him to continue believing that his actions were rational, and this in turn imbued his children with a certain confidence in his parenting (although, in their heart of hearts they knew there was something basically wrong with what had been happening in recent months). This confidence was not shared in the slightest by various key authorities like police, school, and social services.

Those were intent on coming down on Brian Zeus like a tonne of bricks. Sympathy for the poor man was one thing, but when his activities started affecting careers, well, that was a whole different ball game.

“Calendula, come away from the water. There’s jellyfish everywhere”

Calendula was at that age when a child can refuse to be stubborn, if only to test the boundaries, and if the little girl but knew it she was deliberately preying on a sense that her father was somehow losing authority over her, in fact, that she may even have the powers – though she wasn’t really aware of what they were – to further weaken his position. There exists something quite dark in children that they haven’t yet learned to deny and subsume. They really quite enjoy seeing their parents suffer at their own hands. Calendula wanted her Daddy to suffer because he’d driven her Mummy away.

“There’s a killer in all of us, you know?”

The children’s faces were lit up like stars by the blaze from the fire. Their father had this recurrent theme of their being killers in all of us.

“There’s a killer instinct in every living thing, even trees. An ordinary seagull would peck your little hearts out to protect their fledglings, maybe even for a piece of bread. They’re very vicious. But, human beings are the worst killers of all, because we know exactly what we’re doing when we kill. 

That’s why we must travel quickly and alone”

Valhalla picked at his nose and surreptitiously ate what he’d found there. Unlike his sister he had every faith in his dad, and hung on his every word as if they were sweets and teddy bears. His dad smelled of fudge and old smoke.

“Money is the root of all evil, son, never forget that”

The sea loomed darkly, only the moon could touch its cold calm. The trees hished and hushed, and somewhere a night-bird hootle-ood to no reply.  The chidren slept like logs in their little make-shift tents, perhaps it was the gentle rhythm of the late summer rain. Children knew little of danger undercover of a warm tent.

Brian Zeus knew little of danger because every day he was losing his mind that little bit more.

No-one but no-one could convince him why he should not stay with and look after his children in anyway he pleased, even if that meant a shared, feral, day-to-day existence where he would feed them, educate them, keep them warm and best of all befriend them.

They were the only friends he had any chance of keeping.