Percy v Gary

“Gary studied me. The milky splotches drifted across his eyes like clouds on some alien planet.
“Perhaps . . .” His sly tone made me sorry I’d asked. “How about I give you one chance to win the cup? You should feel honored, Percy Jackson. In the history of humankind, I have only made this offer to one other hero.”
“Hercules,” I guessed, because the answer is almost always Hercules.”

“Gary nodded. “You must defeat me in wrestling. If you win, I will give you the chalice. If I win . . . you will fulfill your purpose sooner than expected, and I will turn you into a pile of powdered bone. Do we have an agreement?”

“Looking at Gary, I found it hard to focus—and not just because of his filthy loincloth or his missing teeth. His presence made me feel claustrophobic in my own body. Blood roared in my ears. My hands turned sweaty. I had to fight a sense of panic, like my flesh had already started to crumble.
I understood why even a goddess like Iris might be scared of this guy. ”

“By the time Annabeth reached us, she had drawn her knife. Grover was wielding a black-sesame mochi donut like a shuriken.
“What’s going on?” Grover demanded, hefting his pastry like he was ready to go full donut assassin.
Annabeth sized up Gary, then cursed under her breath. “Geras, I presume? I should have known we were fighting Old Age.”

“Annabeth scowled at the god. “Let me guess. A wrestling match? Excuse me. I need a word with my client.”

“Hercules wrestled Old Age to a standstill,” she continued. “That’s the only time Geras has been forced to call a draw. Beating him is impossible.”
“What was Hercules’s secret?”
“No secret. Just brute force.”

“Then Gary shook his head. “We’ll stick to the original arrangement.”
“Fine,” I muttered. “When do we start?”
I didn’t even have time to breathe. Suddenly Gary was on my back, his hands like steel clamps on my shoulders, his legs wrapped around my rib cage, his heels digging into me like I was an uncooperative horse. My knees buckled. The guy weighed a ton. I threw out my hands and broke my fall, my face only inches from the asphalt.
His sour breath made my head swim. He said in my ear, “Oh, we can start whenever you like.”

“Yes, those were simpler times.
Now I was locked in a wrestle-to-the-death contest with Gary the diapered god of halitosis.
And I was losing.
I tried to push against him, to force myself upright. It was like pushing against the roof of a tunnel. I twisted sideways, using his own weight to sling him off my back. I crawled away, gasping for breath, and barely had time to get to my feet before he slammed into me again, wrapping his arm around my neck. He pulled me into a side headlock, forcing my face dangerously close to his armpit. I really wished I hadn’t taken those menthol tissues out of my nostrils.
“Oh, no,” Gary cackled. “You can’t run from Old Age.”

“I tried to shuffle sideways. Gary held me fast. I pushed forward with all my weight. I leaned back, hoping to pull him off-balance. Even though the guy was half my size, he didn’t budge.
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
With his free hand, he punched me in the ribs. The sound that came out of my throat would have alerted any walruses within a two-mile radius that I was looking for companionship.
“Flag on the play!” Grover yelled. “Ten-yard penalty!”
“No body blows!” Annabeth agreed. “That’s not wrestling!”
“Shut up!” Gary complained.
While his attention was divided, I managed to twist out of his headlock. I wrapped my arms around his chest and squeezed with all my might. I tugged and pushed, but I just couldn’t budge the guy.
He laughed. “Having fun?”

“He plucked me off his chest like I was a tick, then threw me across the playground.
“Percy!” Annabeth yelled.
Her tone of concern was the only thing that saved me. As I sailed through the air, Annabeth’s voice electrified every molecule in my body. My senses went into overdrive. Instead of slamming into the play structure, I twisted in midair, grabbed one of the bars, swung around, and landed on my feet. My shoulders throbbed. I’d probably pulled my arms out of their sockets, but I hadn’t broken my back, or, you know, died.
I staggered forward. Little globs of light swam in my eyes.
Gary scowled at Annabeth and Grover. “If either of you interferes again, I will declare this match null and void. I will turn all three of you into desiccated husks!”
Annabeth crouched, her dagger in hand. Grover gripped her arm, trying to keep her from leaping into the fight. Not that she could hurt Old Age with a knife, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying.
As much as I appreciated the sentiment, I couldn’t let her take the risk.
“Over here, diaper man!” I yelled. “I’m your opponent, not her.”
Gary turned[…]”

Then he charged.
Well . . . I say charged. It was more of a determined hobble.
I had time to think, A plan would be really good now.
Then he was on me. He tackled me and pushed me backward—right into a tetherball pole. My spine creaked, but the pole kept me upright, even gave me some leverage.
I locked my hands around Gary’s biceps. My arms groaned. My vision dissolved into black and white strobe flashes. I managed to push Gary forward one step, then two. I was fueled not by strength but by desperation—and my rally didn’t last.
Gary clamped his bony fingers around my shoulders. I am here to tell you: shoulders have a lot of nerve endings. Gary found them all. I screamed as he pushed me back against the tetherball pole. The metal began to bend.
“You have lasted longer than most,” the old man conceded. “It was a good try.”

“My legs trembled. Pressed between Gary and the pole, my rib cage felt like an overtightened piano frame, ready to snap and implode.
I thought about how much pain I was going to cause Annabeth. I’d promised I would never leave her again. When we left this life, I wanted it to be together, many years from now, when we were old and gray. . . .
Wait a minute.
I felt some strength come back into my legs”

“I dug my fingers harder into Gary’s arms. He grunted in surprise.”

“Gary expected me to wrestle him. And unless I died young, I couldn’t beat Old Age. But what if I embraced him?”


CotG pg.194-196/202-212