The Statue

A modern day visitor to Athens accidentally stumbles upon the long-forgotten statue of an ancient Greek hero.

I was wandering through grounds of the Parthenon, that wonderful ancient Greek ruin that sits high atop a hill just outside of Athens. My fascination with ancient Greek and Roman architecture goes back many years, and to actually be on this site seeing something so wondrous was very moving. I loved how the Greek ruins were bleached white from the intense sun in one of the few parts of the world where air pollution has not let its presence be known. That, plus the fact that the Greek government bans cars from going anywhere near the Parthenon, keeps it from getting covered in the black substance that covers the Roman Coliseum and other ruins where cities have grown up around them. The view from this ruin was especially spectacular as I looked out over the Aegean Sea as far as I could see. A single sailboat passed in the distance. I imagined wooden ships of earlier times arriving at this mystical place. It was a feast for the imagination.

I stepped away from other tourists who were there on this typically hot day, and strolled over some broken stones and columns long since fallen. The normal tourist path ended, but adventurer that I am, and being one who always wants to know what's around the next corner, I ventured beyond the boundaries where visitors were allowed. Well, my philosophy is that if there is no sign telling me I can't do something, I'll do it. There were no signs, so I kept walking into a wooded area, just to see what was there. That was when I discovered it.

I was watching where I was walking, because there were still good-sized pieces of ancient broken stone that I needed to step over and around. It would not do to turn an ankle on one of them. Something caught my eye, however, so while maintaining my balance and carefully watching my step, I made my way to a large object completely covered with overgrown flora. I smiled at my discovery, wondering what this could possibly be, and how long it had been since anyone had seen it. I surmised that either no one cared that it was here or no one knew it was here.

Stepping through and around weeds, being careful that there was nothing that would snag my clothes, I had to physically part some small trees to get a closer look. It was magnificent! There before my eyes was a perfect marble statue of a male. Having been a student of fine arts, I have some knowledge of the art of the time. I know that many statues of ancient Grecian times were of males and nearly all were nudes. I smiled at this one who was wearing clothes, and his left hand rested on the handle of a sword sheathed at his side, partially covered by a wonderful, tattered-looking vest.

I followed the direction of the gaze of his eyes, trying to imagine what this statue was poised here to look at so many centuries ago. Now, of course, the area was overgrown with trees, but back then I'll bet he looked out over the Aegean Sea as I had just done from the Parthenon. Perhaps he had been placed here long ago on the ancient path to welcome travelers to the Parthenon.

Well, I had to find out of the history of this statue, and why it was hidden behind all of the trees, when the area should be cleared so people could see this work of art. I could not take my eyes off of it. He looked like a hero, and certainly must have been an important man of his time to have a statue in his honor at the Parthenon. He wore a vest, the sword and he had thick and long hair that was sculpted to look as if the wind was blowing it back from his face. Whoever this was, he had to have been a fine looking man in person. This statue was obviously sculpted with loving hands by someone who wished to present this man in the best possible way. I only wished I could stand back and look at this work without all of the trees and weeds blocking my view.

Reluctantly, I eventually left the area and went back to where others were enjoying this historical place. I went to the information desk and asked an employee if she could tell me anything about the statue I had seen. She said that she was not aware of such a statue, and called a co-worker over to ask him if he knew of it. Neither of them did and, thankfully, they also were not overly concerned that I had gone "off the beaten path" as it were. I was not even sure they believed me, perhaps thinking that the intense heat had damaged my brain. I thanked them for their time, then took the next logical step.

I found a library in Athens and started my research. The library and its computers were filled with extensive historical documents, and I knew I would need help in finding anything specific. I approached a librarian and asked her the first question tourists ask in places like this: "Do you speak English?" She smiled and assured me that she did, then took me to a room where I could start my search. She selected a computer for me and logged into some areas where I could begin. I thanked her and began.

My search started with the Parthenon, because I figured that a statue that had been placed so close to it might be mentioned somewhere. Before I knew it, it was late afternoon and the library was closing. I was no further in my search than when I had walked in the door hours earlier. Being one to not give up easily when I have my mind set on a goal, I knew I would be back the next day to continue my search. I was on a mission, and nothing was going to stop me!

For three hours the next day I searched the computer files, finding nothing of any substance. I took a break for lunch to gather my thoughts and think about how I could approach this differently. While eating at a nearby outdoor cafe (not a great idea in such extreme heat), I thought I might get somewhere by doing a search for sculptors of the time. That led me to the to the idea of searching for writers as well, on the remote chance there could be something documented about the subject of this statue. Well, it was another place to look, but I was not holding my breath. In fact, I could hardly breathe at all in the sweltering heat.

I quickly finished my meal, treating myself to some baklava for dessert, and walked the few blocks back to the library. Late that afternoon, I hit paydirt. Unfortunately, the library was once again closing & I had to leave. I scribbled some notes into my organizer about the web site I had found, and could hardly wait to get back here the next day to continue.

In the morning, I was waiting at the door when the library opened. It was all I could do not to run to the computer and get back to my task. The previous evening, I had discovered information about a well-known Greek sculptor named Daedalus. My search was focusing on the more popular sculptors who would have been most apt to have received a commission to sculpt a statue for a prestigious place such as the Parthenon.

From this discovery, I thought I had nothing to lose by searching for writers of the time as well. I came across the name Athos, a writer who, according to what I was reading at the web site, kept detailed writings of the events around Athens in his time. It was through his writings that many historical events that would otherwise have been lost in history are known to this day.

I had vast amounts of data at my fingertips, accessed with the click of a mouse. I relaxed and proceeded to see just what Mr. Athos had written. I sat at the computer all day, missing lunch and not even realizing it.

By late afternoon, however, I realized it was becoming harder to focus my eyes. I glanced at the clock and knew the library would be closing in a few minutes, so I made some notes about where I was leaving off in my search, and left. I would be back first thing in the morning.

Another hot day, each like the one before it, and I was indeed on the steps of the library when they opened. I immediately went to "my" computer and started again. "Okay, Mr. Athos," I whispered to myself, "please tell me you wrote about this statue." I clicked around the web site until I stumbled upon a brief mention of "a special statue for the Parthenon." Well, that opened a sea of information. I found a document that. . .bingo! This was it!

Hardly able to contain myself, I smiled in astonishment that I had actually found what I was looking for after what, three days? Four days? I had lost all track of time in my quest.

I took a deep breath, it had been just a few minutes since I came in, so I had all day to sit and read this account. I stretched my arms out in front of me, yawned, and decided to print this story that I had found. I know my way around computers, but I was not sure how this particular one worked to print a document. Smiling to myself while I refrained from saying out loud, ‘It’s all Greek to me,’ I asked the same librarian I had spoken with during my initial visit here for assistance in printing it. She was pleased that I was successful in my search. I printed what turned out to be ten pages of the story behind the statue, written in Greek, but that was okay. I read and speak enough of the Greek language to get by.

For the first time in days, I left the library before lunch, walked in the searing noonday sun to what had become a favorite cafe, ordered. . .I don't even know what. . .and proceeded to read. For now, time stood still for me. I was so excited to have found what I was looking for that nothing could distract me now. Well, nothing except a pesky fly that kept buzzing around my head, but nothing else.

What follows is what I uncovered. I am transcribing this from the ancient Greek text, and it is as close as I can come to the actual verbatim text the author intended from the original scrolls.

I, Athos of Athens, have met the most interesting men who are passing through Eleusis. I am on a short holiday, having traveled from Athens for a change of scenery. There is hardly anyone who has not heard of the famous Hercules, but there are fewer who are as familiar with his friend, Iolaus. Iolaus is more than a friend to Hercules, however; he is his right arm. The two have been inseparable during their stay here. Having never met them, I recognized Hercules from his description, which precedes him everywhere he goes. Many have heard of him, but why there is not more mention of his best friend is something I do not understand.

The other day, I approached the pair in a tavern, identified myself as a writer, and asked if I could interview them. Without hesitation they invited me to join them in their meal. They were most cooperative, and I assured them that my report would be only positive, and something they would both be welcome to read once it was completed. I asked if I could follow them around while they were in town, in order to get a feel for what their lifestyle was like, what they do on a typical day and so on. They were agreeable to that, and it also seems like they are used to offers like this. There was a mention of someone named Salmoneus who had published one of many biographies about Hercules. In fact, there are probably as many biographies about Hercules as there are grapes in Greece, but oddly, very little had been written about Iolaus.

From what I have observed in the short time I have known them, Iolaus is strong and fearless just like Hercules, and they have been best friends since childhood. Oh, Iolaus does not have the physical strength that Hercules possesses, but then no mortal man does. Being at a loss to know why he is spoken of so rarely, I am making it my job to find out why, and write as much about him as I can. People love reading anything written about Hercules sure enough, but if I can write about the man who travels with Hercules, who knows Hercules better than anyone else and who would lay down his life for Hercules, maybe my readers will take notice. I am still looking for an angle on which to base my story, something that will grab my readers' attention. In the meantime, I am following them while they are here, observing their typical day and taking notes as I go. I hope to obtain a plethora of information about them, especially Iolaus, in order to have a worthwhile story to write.

After I met them and got their permission, I followed them from the tavern with parchment and quill, trying not to interfere with their normal routine. They enjoy strolling through the marketplace, while Iolaus eats his way down the street. He approaches food vendors, pays a dinar or two and devours whatever the vendor has to offer. He seems to like all kinds of food and eats constantly. Hercules assures me that he does not eat like this all the time, just when they are in towns. Their usual diet consists of fish and rabbit, but Hercules said he loves to torment Iolaus now and then by bringing a bunch of nuts and berries into their camp and pretending that will be their entire meal.

The two friends are well-suited for each other. Each has a unique sense of humor, and they just enjoy each other's company, bantering and joking with the ease of friends who are very comfortable with each other. I envy this, as I do not have such a close friend. They get along very well, but if one of them gets out of line, the other is quick to tell him. They never really argue, they simply express their own opinions quite often.

It was during my third day of following and observing them that all chaos broke loose in Eleusis. It was fortunate for the town that the pair had decided to stay a day longer than they originally planned. They are still quite travel-weary and welcomed a break from life in the Greek countryside. I have learned, however, that the countryside is where they prefer to be: in the open air, the wide open spaces, sleeping under the open sky, with the freedoms that lifestyle brings. They are not city dwellers by any means. They have few possessions, but they explained to me that it is easier to travel that way.

A man came running through the streets on this day, exclaiming that the school was on fire. The teacher and most of the children were trapped inside, unable to get out past fallen debris. I have never seen anyone react to something as quickly as Hercules and Iolaus reacted to this. I blinked and they were gone, running toward the school without a thought for their own safety.

I ran after them and wrote what I observed as fast as I could, but things were happening at such a frantic pace that I could hardly keep up. Iolaus was first to run at full speed into the burning school building. The smoke was so thick that I honestly did not expect him to come back out.

Hercules was struggling with a huge water tower, trying to single-handedly push it over toward the school. In all my years, I have never seen anyone even attempt to do this. I could see that the tower would not land on the school, but if it fell right, the water would rush into the building and douse the flames. Iolaus was in the building far too long, and I sincerely felt that this would be my final paragraph about this brave, unsung hero. It saddened me to think of how much I would miss him.

As I watched Hercules' strength in action, Iolaus ran out of the school with a child under each arm. Several more, plus their teacher, followed him, all holding onto each other. Iolaus led them well away from the building. I saw him look at Hercules with an expression that only those who know each other well could interpret. Words are so often not needed between these two. Hercules knew that Iolaus was telling him everyone was out, and to let the tower fall. A minute later, water flooded the building and the flames sizzled out.

I was still writing furiously, torn between getting all of this on parchment, watching the reaction of Hercules, Iolaus, the teacher, the children, the townspeople and everything that was happening all at once, and wanting to do something to help besides standing there writing. Surely my readers will be most interested in reading this account, so I owe it to them to get as much written down as I can. After all, in the vast majority of Hercules’ biographies, the writers have not actually witnessed his heroics, but merely wrote about his strength and his lifestyle. Since I am among the few writers to actually see him, and yes, Iolaus, in action, I owe it to my readers to get all of the details.

I stayed back, but saw Hercules run to his friend, kneel down and momentarily put his arm around his shoulders as Iolaus sat in a crumpled heap on the ground next to a well. He was coughing, his lungs surely filled with smoke. Hercules stood and lowered the bucket into the well and hoisted it back out. He filled the dipper from the bucket, grabbed Iolaus’ hand and pushed the dipper into it. Iolaus took a drink and spit it out. Taking another drink, he swallowed some of the water and poured the rest on his head. Hercules grabbed the dipper, filled it again and gave it back to Iolaus. This time, Iolaus poured the whole thing over his head and neck.

I noticed that Iolaus' eyes were squeezed shut, stinging from the smoke. Hercules then filled the bucket again and set it next to Iolaus, who scooped the water out with his hands and flushed his eyes. Hercules tipped the bucket and poured the remaining water on each of Iolaus' arms. His arms, his face, his whole body was covered with black smoke, and he needed to get cooled off quickly.

Hercules lowered the bucket into the well one last time, retrieved it, and this time carefully poured its contents onto Iolaus' legs. Iolaus had truly risked his life for people he did not even know, but this is what is written in the stories of Hercules. These two men do this all the time. The fire could have been a tragedy, but because Hercules and Iolaus are here, tragedy was avoided and I am honored to have been an eyewitness to it.

Hercules sat down on the ground next to Iolaus, offering him words of comfort and telling him he would be okay. I looked around and saw that the children were gathered, crying, further down the street, being tended to by villagers. It was then the teacher left them for a moment and came over to thank the two heroes. He could barely speak in the emotional state he was in, but his message was clear. He knew that he and the children would have died if not for Iolaus.

After a few minutes, Iolaus calmed down, was able to breathe a little better and his eyes were open, but he still blinked them furiously. Hercules helped him stand up and led him out of town where he could clean up and cool off in the river. I could not yet tell if he had any serious burns. Iolaus looked up at his taller friend and tried to talk, but Hercules told him not to until his throat and lungs had a chance to recover. While Iolaus held his hand on his chest, still trying to breathe normally, Hercules walked with an arm around his shoulders as they slowly made their way to the river.

I decided to give them some private time alone, but I heard Hercules mention that Iolaus should see a healer, whereby Iolaus protested the best he could under the circumstances, shaking his head and trying to say, “No!” For some reason, he disliked healers. To his credit, Hercules did not pursue the matter. They know each other very well, enough to know when to back off.

Well, that is my account of this event. I completed and was ready to publish my scrolls just days later when I was convinced that Iolaus was fully recovered. He had not been burned that day, and his voice, although somewhat hoarse for a while, was nearly normal again. In fact, his only other injury occurred while he was groping in the smoke that he said was "harder to see through than rabbit stew." His left arm had come in contact with something sharp that cut him just above his elbow. He never found out what it was, but once they returned from the river, Hercules got some salve and bandages from the healer and took care of it.

It says a lot that these two friends trust each other to care for their injuries. When I think about it, however, I realize it makes sense. The lifestyle they have chosen means they are often nowhere near a physician, so they have to be able to do this. Each has come to rely on the other so much, that they often do not request the services of a healer even when one is readily available.

The pair were ready to leave Eleusis. We said our good-byes, went our separate ways, and I could write a well-deserved happy ending to my story. I headed back to Athens and thought this would be the last we would see each other.

Verbal accounts of the events of that day spread rapidly throughout Greece, as all of Hercules' good deeds do. I feel it unfortunate that in these accounts that I overhear people discussing, no mention is ever made of Iolaus. It is as if he was not even there that day, and Hercules had saved the people and the town all on his own. Hercules toppling the water tower makes for the sort of tales that get more dramatic with each telling. Yes, he is incredibly strong, but Iolaus is the one who had risked his life. I am vowing to make sure Iolaus gets his fair recognition. I keep wondering how many other heroic deeds Iolaus is responsible for that Hercules gets all the credit for.

Often, I interrupt people when I hear them discussing this event and remind them that Hercules did not act alone. I am surprised at how many people are unaware of Iolaus. After all, there are towns that have erected statues to Hercules, but where are the statues honoring Iolaus? They are non-existent as far as I know. I began to think that maybe I could change that.

I petitioned the Athenian government to erect a statue in honor of a man who is extremely brave, but of whom little is known. As proof, I offered them copies of my story of the events I witnessed. The officials always take me at my word, because I am known throughout the region as an honest person and someone who tells the truth both in my speech and my writings. It does not hurt that the story of the school fire has been told over and over, even among the officials, to the point where it has taken on a life of its own.

To make a long story short, permission was granted to commission my sculptor friend, Daedalus, to sculpt a marble statue in honor of Iolaus. I was given the great honor of scouting the countryside to find the heroes to tell them the news. I will never forget the first thing Iolaus said to me when I proudly made the announcement that a statue was to be done in his honor.

"It had better show me wearing clothes!"

I laughed, because this is so typical of the man. He has obviously seen many statues of nude males that are found throughout Greece, and he wanted no part of something like that in his own likeness. I told him I would relay his wishes to Daedalus, and that out of my own respect for Iolaus, I would personally keep an eye on how the statue was progressing, to make sure it had clothes. Iolaus also asked me several times if I was sure the statue was for him and not Hercules. It has taken a lot of convincing on my part, but Iolaus has finally realized it is true.

Hercules and Iolaus then accompanied me to Athens where I introduced them to my friend. Daedalus took Iolaus' measurements, which made Iolaus noticeably nervous. Hercules kept telling him to hold still, that it would take less time if he just submitted to the proceedings and stopped squirming around. Iolaus is not one to stand still for long. He has this boundless energy that is as natural a part of him as breathing.

While doing the measurements, Daedalus engaged Iolaus in conversation to get a feel for his personality, his traits and anything that would help him decide on a pose, facial expression and so on. Daedalus has this uncanny ability to capture the very essence of the people he sculpts, but this is why he gets the major and important commissions. In all the works he has done, he has never sculpted a male wearing clothes, so he was quite amused by Iolaus’ request, but vowed to uphold his wish. He welcomed the challenge that it would provide.

I like to think of Daedalus as a 'forward thinker,' because he is always working to come up with new ideas in his creations. Iolaus, himself, presented my friend with a challenge. Men he has sculpted in the past were always willing and eager to stand still for the required ministrations, knowing what an honor it is to have a statue made of him. Not Iolaus, however. He wanted this over with as quickly as possible!

The measurements and some sketches of Iolaus finally completed, Daedalus was ready to begin work on the statue. It would take many months to sculpt, but he is a patient man who prefers precise perfection to a hurried, sloppy job. A large piece of marble was selected and he began to work his magic.

As promised to Iolaus, I checked on the progress periodically to ensure that Iolaus' statue would be wearing clothes. Daedalus chose to sculpt what Iolaus was wearing the day they met, but he later learned that what Iolaus wore that day was what he wore every day. No matter what day Iolaus had dropped by he would have been wearing the same clothes. Daedalus thought it was fitting then that this is what his statue would wear.

I spoke with Daedalus about where this statue should be placed. We discussed various locations around Athens, even the center of Eleusis, and we could not decide on a fitting and unique location for a unique hero. I approached the Athenian officials for their ideas and suggestions, because the final decision would be theirs to approve anyway. As I spoke with them, it occurred to me that the Parthenon was nearing completion. A great celebratory festival was being planned to commemorate years of building this structure, and what would be more appropriate than to unveil the statue of a Greek hero on the site? I mentioned this to those in the room. For a moment there was a silence that made me think they were going to kick me out of the discussion. Then everyone present exchanged glances, heads began to nod one-by-one, and before I knew it, Iolaus' statue had a home. I was thrilled beyond words, which is quite unusual for me, since I am never at a loss for words.

It was agreed that I would be the one to tell Iolaus and Hercules, so I set out immediately to find them once again. I caught up with them in Thebes, and the enormous smile on my face gave me away. They knew I came with good news, but they did not expect what I was about to tell them. I told them that in one month they were to be the guests of honor for the dedication of the Parthenon and the unveiling of Iolaus' statue. They would have just enough time to make the long trek back to Athens.

The look that was exchanged between Hercules and Iolaus was priceless. I am not sure that my mere words can describe what I saw, but it was as though both men know that Iolaus is finally getting the recognition he deserves after so many heroic deeds he has spent his life doing. Here are two men who can say volumes to each other with just a glance. I have never before nor since seen any two people who could do that. I silently wondered how many times Iolaus has stood next to Hercules while a statue of his tall friend is unveiled.

They invited me to join them for dinner, whereupon Hercules told me that sometimes Iolaus voices his concern over whether people will remember him. Having gotten to know them and realize that people seldom mention Iolaus in their conversations about Hercules, I can see his point. We had a quiet, pleasant meal, and I said how surprised I am that there were no statues honoring Iolaus, but I am very glad that will change.

In the time since we have become friends, I have learned that Iolaus loves festivals as much as he loves life itself. The Parthenon Festival was to be no different. Iolaus looked forward to the day the way a child looks forward to getting a new toy. I accompanied the pair back to Athens, and we arrived just a few days before the festival. Iolaus was so happy, often singing or whistling, but that is his normal disposition. Looking forward to a festival just makes him happier, if that is possible. He talked of food, beautiful women, games and beautiful women. Iolaus is clearly the most colorful character I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I am always grateful that he did not die in the school fire. Months have passed since the fire, and Iolaus’ voice is completely back to what it had been before the fire. He is fortunate to have suffered no permanent damage that day.

In Athens once again, I again had to assure Iolaus several times that when the statue was unveiled, it would have clothes. I could only hope he trusted me enough by now to know that I would not lie to him. Hercules teased him incessantly, asking him what he would do if the statue was naked. Iolaus' replies got more colorful all the time, from "beating it to pieces with my bare fists," to "pitching it out into the Aegean Sea." My personal favorite was, “making Daedalus redo the head in the likeness of Hercules.”

I laughed along with Hercules, and yes, Iolaus, for he too was amused by the whole thing. He had seen many statues of Hercules over the years, but had never seen one of himself. I could tell that even though he is deeply grateful to be immortalized in marble, he is slightly embarrassed by all of the attention. He is clearly not a man who is used to getting much attention while Hercules constantly has praise dumped on him. Iolaus is a man who, to his credit, graciously accepts this, however. He would hardly have been Hercules' best friend all these years if things were otherwise. His ego and pride would have swallowed him up years ago.

Unbeknown to me, Daedalus had at some point asked the Athenian officials to allow me to introduce Iolaus and Hercules and tell something about them, since I have traveled with them so often in recent months. Now, while I enjoy writing very much, I am not much of a public speaker. I decided, however, that I would do my best to use the opportunity to ensure that those present know who Iolaus is. I gathered my thoughts and spoke from my heart:

“I am glad to have met these two Greek heroes, and to have been present to witness one of their many heroic deeds. I am also proud to have played a major role in getting a statue sculpted for Iolaus, a man who will now be honored by everyone who visits the Parthenon and sees it. There have been many stories written about Hercules, but this is one my favorite because I was there to see that it is not always just Hercules who ends up being the hero, but a man whom Hercules calls his brother, who has a truly unique personality, a sense of humor to match and a heart of gold. I saw him risk his life to save others, as he and Hercules have done on countless occasions. This pretty much sums up my two newest friends.”

I then looked over at Iolaus. He and Hercules were sitting at a place of honor next to the dais. Ha hadn't meant to, but I had caused tears to well up in Iolaus' eyes. For all of his bravery and heroics, he is a man whose emotions are usually right at the surface. He smiled and silently mouthed "thank you" to me, and I suddenly thought my own emotions would take over.

It seemed as though all of Greece was in attendance at the Parthenon on Festival and Dedication Day. It was especially fitting that every child Iolaus had rescued was there, along with their parents and teacher, at the special invitation of Kleisthenes, a recently-elected leader. The moment finally came that one of Athens’ top officials removed the cloth that covered the huge marble statue.

After my speech, I was taking notes as I always do, to record this momentous occasion. I had seen the nearly completed statue, so what I wanted to observe was the reaction from Iolaus. He was standing elbow-to-elbow with Hercules, so I would also be able to see Hercules' reaction. I was not disappointed. It had been all Hercules, Daedalus and I could do to keep Iolaus from peeking at it before this day, because he was still worried that the cloth might drop and reveal a nude statue for all of Greece to see.

The cloth fell to the ground in a great wave, and a collective gasp spread through the crowd, followed immediately by thunderous applause. Iolaus was so overcome with emotion that a single tear now slid down his cheek. Hercules got misty-eyed as well, and it was obvious that they were proud of what Daedalus had created, clothes and all. I could not resist poking Iolaus with my elbow and saying, "Didn't I tell you it would have clothes?" Iolaus laughed and drew his hands across his eyes.

Now, Daedalus and I have been friends for years, but not the kind of friends Hercules and Iolaus are. We do not travel around Greece helping people, but we are friends nonetheless. I have watched Daedalus create the most magnificent works of art from marble for most of my adult life. I have to admit, however, that he had outdone himself this time. The statue of Iolaus is absolute perfection. He captured Iolaus' patched vest to a tee. Folds in the leather pants fall perfectly, Iolaus' amulet and belts are replicated beautifully. The sheathed sword in his belt at his side, partially covered by the vest, is a nice touch.

He stands tall and proud, his left hand grasps his sword handle and his right arm hangs relaxed at his side. His right foot is slightly ahead of the left, which gives him a relaxed demeanor. Iolaus' face and eyes look out over the Aegean Sea, a smile on his lips. I think what I like the most, however, is the way Daedalus sculpted Iolaus' long hair, flowing back from his face, catching the strong wind blowing in from the sea.

Besides sculpting Iolaus fully clothed, there is another feature that is something new for Daedalus. He sculpted a small loop earring in the statue's left ear, just like the one Iolaus usually wears. It is another nice touch, and one that made Iolaus smile when he saw it. This magnificent work truly is Iolaus: a hero, a hunter, a strong and brave Greek, who deserves the honor this important work of art affords him.

The life-size statue stands on a tall square piece of matching marble, and was placed along the path leading to the Parthenon. One of Greece’s bravest heroes finally has a place of honor and long overdue recognition. Hercules could not have been any prouder of his lifelong companion, best friend and brother. Instead of Iolaus looking for food, games and beautiful women, he was unable to get away from the dais. The crowd gathered around him to offer their congratulations, almost smothering him in the process. At one point, I saw him look around, obviously looking for Hercules, perhaps wanting his friend to rescue him from the throngs.

However, I saw Hercules slowly walk away after the first few people approached Iolaus. He had been through this so many times, and Iolaus had always left him to his admirers. Now, at last, he could return the favor. Hercules had quietly walked away, sat on the highest step of the Parthenon, and from the distance watched his friend get the adulation that had been too long in coming. He told me later that he hopes this will ease Iolaus' mind about being remembered.

As I said in my speech, I am glad to have met these two Greek heroes, and to have been present to witness one of their many heroic deeds. I was there to see that Iolaus is a hero in his own right, a smaller man than Hercules, but just as strong in many ways, wild blond hair, an earring in his left ear, a personality like I have never seen and a heart of gold. The world needs more heroes like these two.

There you have it. At last I had found the answers to my questions. I loved the story as written by Athos. I sat back in my chair and laced my fingers together behind my head. I wanted to find a way to uncover this statue and make it presentable to the public once again. I took my printed pages back to the information people at the Parthenon and explained to them what the story said.

I got a cursory nod from them, which made me think they did not take me seriously. After all, these were their ruins; who was I to come here and tell them something they did not know? I tried to explain to them that Iolaus was a hero in his time, that the statue was the direct result of just one of many heroic deeds he performed, and it deserved better than to be hidden in dense weeds and trees.

Well, I said all they were willing to listen to, I asked them to keep a copy of what I had printed from the computer, and I left the phone number of where I was staying. I also had to take another look at the statue, so I trudged back into the woods, again being careful not to trip. Once again I parted the brush and small trees the best I could. I found myself talking to the statue, something I've never done before or since, but there was just something about it that got to me, especially now that I knew the fascinating story behind it.

"I don't know how. . .or when. . .but I promise I will find somebody who's in charge here to get all of this overgrown stuff removed so people can see you again."

I made a special effort to look at the statue's left ear, not having noticed the earring before. It was still there, just as Athos had described it. I smiled at that, but I also smiled because now I knew the story of why this statue was wearing clothes. As Athos had explained, these were the clothes Iolaus always wore, and they helped define who he was. Iolaus was a brave man and a hero, and deserved a statue that would depict these qualities. He certainly got it.

The End

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