Percy Jackson One Shots

Miranda Tellgemir

CALEO IS FUDGING AMAZING!

My husband, Sean, and I drive through the slushed up streets of snowy New York when our car brakes down. We filled up the gas tank minutes before so I know that isn't the problem.

Sean gets out of the car and goes to the hood and lifts it up. Smoke curls from the engine. I get out of the car.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I don't know," replies Sean. "We'll have to call someone to repair it."

Lazily my eyes wonder up and down the street. There's a Korean restaurant, a McDonald's and...

I shake my husband's arm. "Sean look, there's a repair shop right there." I point to a medium sized building set across the street and roughly a block away.

"Well isn't that convenient," says Sean. The two of us break away from our car and start to head towards Leo and Calypso's Auto Repair and Soup Kitchen.

A little bell chimes when we walk in. I peer around the garage. To one side there's a wall of tools and a car already put up on the racks. Tires litter the floor. On my right though is a doorway. I look through. The room on the other side is a blossom of warm colours. Yellows and oranges and reds and pinks line the walls. Tables are set up around the place. A few people — all around 20 —and a ton of kids are sitting. On the far side is a swinging door marked kitchen.

"Hello," says a voice behind me. I turn to see a woman with caramel hair and one of those timeless faces looking up from under the car.

"Hi," I say. "Our car stopped a little ways down the block, we were wondering if you could help us find the problem and fix it."

The woman stands up. I notice now that she's much taller than she first appeared, wearing a black, grease stained outfit. Her pants and shirt are sewed together — you know, what you usually picture people wearing while they work on cars.

She smiles. "Well, that's what our sign says. I'm Calypso by the way." The woman — no, Calypso — sticks out her hand.

"Miranda," I say, taking her hand. She shakes it firmly.

"I'll be back in a second. I just need to grab Leo, he'll do it much faster than I will. Plus he doesn't mind the cold as much," Calypso tells us. She turns around and sticks her head into a back room I hadn't noticed before.

"Leo, it's time to do your job."

A moment after Calypso steps away from the door, a latino man (around Sean and I's age, 20-ish) and shorter than Calypso, groggily takes a few steps into the garage. He looks around tiredly before his eyes rest on Sean and I.

He immediately brightens, standing straighter and grinning widely. It's obvious that his smile is genuine. "Hey," he starts, striding over to us, "I'm Leo. The other half of the shop."

I smile. This time Sean sticks put his hand to shake. "Hey, I'm Sean and this is my wife Miranda. We were just talking to Calypso and she said that you would be able to fix our car. It broke down about a block or so away."

"By all means. Let's go check." Leo grabs his coat and for the first time I notice the tool belt fastened around his waist. I smirk, no wonder he's a mechanic. He sleeps with his tool belt.

As the men step out a chilly wind enters and I shiver. Calypso sees this and says, "Oh, come over here. Into the kitchen." She leads me over to the other room I saw before. She sits me down at the table with a bunch of people.

"Friends, meet Miranda. Miranda, meet my friends," announces Calypso spreading her arms wide. Like the extravert I am, I smile at all of them, happy to be included in such a big group.