The Storytellers Goddess Part 15

Misogyny could not obscure, however, the essence of clear-mindedness that is Athena's special gift of fertility. Artist of real-world crafts, Athena, the Great Weaver, came to embody the complex skills of planning and follow through in domestic and political arenas. Hers was the might of civilization itself.

I wrote this new myth for Athena in honor of plumbing, the stupendous, invisible weaving of pipes beneath every city, without which vast numbers of people living closely together cannot healthily function. As Queen of Sanitation Engineering, Athena is similar to the Roman Cloaca, an aspect of Juno (see story), who was Queen of Sewers and Excrement.

Athena, called Minerva by the Romans, Empress of Architectural Brilliance, is the G.o.ddess I call on to help me plan, edit, and organize. It has been enormously important to me to return this masculinized realm to the Great Mother. That act, on a cultural scale, will begin to heal the shocking damage that invariably results when we split production from consequence and use from waste.

The Weaving of the Streets and Plumbing The G.o.ddess Athena got up in the morning and tied an apartment house onto each foot. She climbed into Her skirt made of hospitals and libraries and pulled a s.h.i.+rt of towers over Her head. She belted Her waist and tied back Her hair with two pillars. Into Her pockets She stuffed streets and pipes.

Today was the day to finish Her two great tapestries. Today in the cities, She would weave the last of Her mighty threads. First She pulled the streets from Her pocket. Bending and turning, She poked and pressed them into the huge grid of roads She had made.

Then She walked down into the Earth. There gleamed the net of pipes She had strung down the walls of the buildings, under the halls, past the steel and brick foundations. From every tub, every sink, and every toilet angled the pipes, curving and pointing out to the sea. Under the Earth, Athena squatted.

Using the last of Her pipes from Her pocket, she measured, chopped, and screwed them until they fit just so.

The people had gathered. Hundreds waited on foot and with carts at the sides of Her roads. Hundreds waited at the edge of the sea beside the huge vats that would catch the waters of Athena's pipe weaving.

Hundreds stood high on the mountain where the waters began.

Athena climbed out of the Earth and stood at the center of the cities where all could see Her. She loosed the pillar from Her hair, and a rush of air lifted the ma.s.s of it and settled it into the clouds.

"It is finished!" Athena shouted.

"My tapestries are finished!"

The people cheered.

"Now hear the story of My tapestries," said Athena.

The people listened.

"My roads I call My transportation tapestry," said Athena. Her voice was loud and strong.

"Without the streets of My tapestry, your travel is clumsy and long.

With My streets, your travel is easy. With My streets, your travel is free of rocks and thorns. When you visit and work or gather and carry, you go straight and true to each other."

The people waved branches and raised their voices. They tossed flowers by the thousands into Athena's great transportation tapestry.

Athena spoke again.

"I call My pipe tapestry plumbing," She said.

"My plumbing carries away your wastes and your filth. Without my plumbing your cities stink and are full of disease. With My plumbing, your cities are clean and your air fresh."

The people clamored at their beautiful Athena. They called Her name and cheered. Then the man who stood at the great spigot at the top of the mountain waved a white cloth high.

"We are ready, Athena!" the man yelled. He raised his huge hammer.

"We are ready to start the waters flowing in Your great plumbing tapestry!"

"Wait!" thundered Athena.

"You are not ready!"

The people stirred. They looked at each other. The man at the spigot lowered his hammer.

Athena held out Her hands.

"My people," She said.

"You have not heard the end of My story."

The people waited.

"Today," said Athena, "you are grateful for My gifts to you. Today you fill my roads with flowers. Today you sing the praises of Athena, the Great Road Maker and Plumber."

"But," She rumbled, "there will come a time when you will forget. There will come a day when you will forget that your roads and your plumbing are Mine. There will come a day when you will want to abuse My weavings."

The people raised their voices in disbelief.

"Silence," said Athena. Then Her shoulders drooped. But Her voice was still strong.

"There will come a day, My children, when you will build fast machines that spew out poison into the air over My roads. You will dump poison at My roadsides. There will come a day, My children, when you will pour poison into My plumbing.

"We can't see it," you will say.

"So what does it matter?" That is the day you will forget to clean the waters of My plumbing before they pour into the sea."

Athena hung Her head. The people were silent. They shook their heads.

They could not imagine forgetting the Great Weaver or Her gifts. Then a woman cried out, "Athena! We will not forget."

Athena lifted Her head. The people took up the cry.

"Athena! We will not forget!" they shouted.

"We will tell our children. And our children will tell their grandchildren."

Athena's shoulders straightened. She took two steps, and the Earth shook under Her weight. She stretched out Her arms and cupped one hand around the people on the mountain. She cupped Her right hand about the people at the edge of the sea. The people at the sides of Her roads pressed together.

"My children," said Athena, and Her voice was like a thousand harp strings.

"See that you do not forget. See that you do not forget that the tapestries are Mine."

"Never!" cried the people.

"We will never forget!"

Athena smiled.

"Then we are ready," She said.

"Turn the faucet."