Rick Riordan Percy Jackson and the Olympians
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" Beat it, kid!" one of them muttered. I moved away. They smelled pretty bad, but just regular old bad. Nothing unusual. There was a lady with a bunch of plastic flamingos sticking out of a shopping cart. She glared at me like I was going to steal her birds.
At the end of the pier, a guy who looked about a million years old was passed out in a patch of sunlight. He wore pajamas and a fuzzy bathrobe that probably used to be white. He was fat, with a white beard that had turned yellow, kind of like Santa Claus, if Santa had been rolled out of bed and dragged through a landfill. And his smell? As I got closer, I froze. He smelled bad, all right— but ocean bad. Like hot seaweed and dead fish and brine. If the ocean had an ugly side … this guy was it.
I tried not to gag as I sat down near him like I was tired. Santa opened one eye suspiciously. I could feel him staring at me, but I didn ' t look. I muttered something about stupid school and stupid parents, figuring that might sound reasonable. Santa Claus went back to sleep. I tensed. I knew this was going to look strange. I didn ' t know how the other homeless people would react. But I jumped Santa Claus.
" Ahhhhhl " he screamed. I meant to grab him, but he seemed to grab me instead. It was as if he ' d never been asleep at all. He certainly didn ' t act like a weak old man. He had a grip like steel. " Help me!" he screamed as he squeezed me to death. " That ' s a crime!" one of the other homeless guys yelled. " Kid rolling an old man like that!" I rolled, all right— straight down the pier until my head slammed into a post. I was dazed for a second, and Nereus ' s grip slackened. He was making a break for it. Before he could, I regained my senses and tackled him from behind.
" I don ' t have any money!" He tried to get up and run, but I locked my arms around his chest.
His rotten fish smell was awful, but I held on. " I don ' t want money," I said as he fought. " I ' m a half-blood! I want information.'" That just made him struggle harder. " Heroes! Why do you always pick on me?" " Because you know everything!" He growled and tried to shake me off his back. It was like holding on to a roller coaster. He thrashed around, making it impossible for me to keep on my feet, but I gritted my teeth and squeezed tighter. We staggered toward the edge of the pier and I got an idea. " Oh, no!" I said. " Not the water!" The plan worked. Immediately, Nereus yelled in triumph and jumped off the edge. Together, we plunged into San Francisco Bay. He must ' ve been surprised when I tightened my grip, the ocean filling me with extra strength.
But Nereus had a few tricks left, too. He changed shape until I was holding a sleek black seal.
I ' ve heard people make jokes about trying to hold a greased pig, but I ' m telling you, holding on to a seal in the water is harder. Nereus plunged straight down, wriggling and thrashing and spiraling through the dark water. If I hadn ' t been Poseidon ' s son, there ' s no way I could ' ve stayed with him.
Nereus spun and expanded, turning into a killer whale, but I grabbed his dorsal fin as he burst out of the water. A whole bunch of tourists went, " Whoa!" I managed to wave at the crowd. Yeah, we do this every day here in San Francisco. Nereus plunged into the water and turned into a slimy eel. I started to tie him into a knot until he realized what was going on and changed back to human form. " Why won ' t you drown?" he wailed, pummelmg me with his fists. " I ' m Poseidon ' s son," I said. " Curse that upstart! I was here first!" Finally he collapsed on the edge of the boat dock. Above us was one of those tourist piers lined with shops, like a mall on water. Nereus was heaving and gasping. I was feeling great. I could ' ve gone on all day, but I didn ' t tell him that. I wanted him to feel like he ' d put up a good fight. My friends ran down the steps from the pier. " You got him!" Zoe said.