opportunity to say so. As for Medea, she is a tragic figure, but not someone people readily identify when they think of Greek mythology. She is more closely associated with opera or courses that examine narratives centering on the trope of the woman scorned.”
“You mean how she killed her own children to get back at her ex?”
“That part, yes.” Professor Kent sighed. “I think within most narratives, you will find the thoughts and beliefs of the author. Whenever you hear a story about villainous women, you should ask who’s telling the story. Medea’s tale has been told and retold a dozen times, but always by men who seem to revel in her heinous actions without addressing what caused it. Sometimes her story is used to showcase women as crazy, unpredictable, or vindictive.” She sounded thoroughly irritated.
“I’ve been reading the stories, and it’s weird to me that a fictional character—”
“Not fiction.”
I paused. “Wait. What’s not fiction?”
“Medea,” said Professor Kent. “She’s not a fictional character. Not entirely, anyway. Many of the stories we’ve thought of as fiction have been proven to have a basis in reality. It’s the same for Medea. There are contemporary accounts of a woman who fits her description. She was considered a witch and shared her name and origins, being a daughter of the King of Colchis.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Colchis?”
“Yes. A powerful family in ancient Greece. You said you’ve been reading about her. Not all versions of her story are the same, but she was most definitely the daughter of the King of Colchis. Sometimes that fact is omitted depending on the preference of the author.”
I didn’t recall coming across the name in the books I’d read so far, but there were so many others I still had to go through. “And you said she was a witch?”
Professor Kent laughed. “Yes. Being a woman was enough to get you labeled a witch in those days, but for her, it had more to do with her talent for crafting poisons.”
It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. My mind went in circles. “Can I—can I put together an email with my questions and send it to you? This is a lot to take in.”
“Oh, sure. Whatever works best for you. Tell Angie and Thandie I said hello, and please feel free to call, text, or email anytime. I never tire of talking about these things.”
“Thanks, Professor.”
I hung up and sat quietly for a minute. Everything I knew about Greek mythology came from watching Hercules a few too many times as a kid, wishing a little too hard to be one of the muses. I knew the story of Achilles because I shared my name with his wife and had looked into it only to find out Patroclus was the love of his life and Briseis was probably just their homegirl. And of course, I’d listened to the Hadestown soundtrack more times than I could count—but they were stories. Myths. I opened a blank email and tried to put my questions for Professor Kent in some kind of order.
Professor Kent,
1)First, you’re an expert on this. What’s your consulting fee? Your time is valuable, and I’m not asking you to do this for free. Please send me your Venmo or PayPal.
2)Greek myths were based in reality? All of them or just some? And which ones?
3)You said Medea could have been a real person, a witch? Like the Wicked Witch of the West or Sabrina?
I had other questions, but I didn’t think Professor Kent would be the right person to ask. That name—“Colchis.” It was my birth mother’s family name. It made me wonder if their interest in Medea had turned into an unhealthy obsession.
Going over everything in my head left me even more curious about what was behind that door in the Poison Garden. More paintings of Medea? More books? Something else?
I sent the email to Professor Kent and sat back against the pillows, gazing up at the canopy above my bed. If I was supposed to know what was behind the secret door, why didn’t Circe leave me a key like she had for everything else?
I grabbed my phone and dialed Mrs. Redmond. Her voice mail picked up, but I didn’t leave a message. I sent Karter a text to see if he could put me in touch with his mom, but when he didn’t text back in the five minutes I was willing to wait, I decided to ask Mom or Mo