Echo was a nymph cursed by Jupiter’s wife to surrender her power of speech except to reply – she could never initiate conversation. She fell in love with Narcissus, a beautiful but haughty youth who rudely spurned her, leading Nemesis, the Roman God of Vengeance, to make him fall in love with his own reflection, to teach him the meaning of lovelessness.
From Bullfinch’s The Age of Fable, or Stories of Gods and Heroes, 1855
Curses from Gods are usually definitive – you might as well beg Samuel Alito for mercy. But Echo and Narcissus pledged to overcome their deficiencies so heartfeltly Jupiter allowed them to return to Earth and have a second chance. So they returned, and moved into a rowhouse in a hipster neighborhood of Washington, D.C.
Narcissus was sitting on the sofa late one afternoon, watching a video of a man skateboarding while drinking cranberry juice and lip-synching Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams.” The man in the video was strikingly handsome, tall and thin with prominent but striking features – an Adam Driver type. Narcissus smiled broadly as he watched the man because, as you’d imagine, he was watching himself. His promises to reform and his ongoing psychotherapy aside, he was pursuing a career as a social influencer and looking for part-time work as an underwear model to get himself over the temporary hump – he was having trouble holding a job.
He heard the door open. “Hi, honey,” he shouted without looking up.
“Hi, honey,” came the reply. Echo was elfin, attractive, with a pixie haircut and delicate features. She worked as a court stenographer, allowed her to use her power of repetition to good advantage.
“What’s up?” Narcissus asked.
“What’s up?” Echo replied, putting her keys down.
“I had my first session with that therapist,” Narcissus replied. “She says I need to start thinking about what other people say and think.”
“What other people say and think?” Echo replied.
“And she said you need to think for yourself.”
“Think for yourself,” Echo mused. Narcissus’ attention shifted back to his phone when he suddenly remembered he was talking to Echo. “She said relationships where the partners are driven by hidden agendas and compulsions can be unhealthy.”
“Unhealthy?”
Narcissus shrugged. “Well, who knows what’s healthy and what’s not, right? But therapy’s not so bad. You sit around and talk about yourself. Which reminds me! I’m watching myself on Tik Tok,” he said. “Look at this -- I look really good!”
Echo took the phone from him and looked. “Really good,” she agreed before handing it back. She sloughed off her backpack, took out her own phone, and sat down next to him. They kissed perfunctorily and regarded their devices.
Narcissus admired his video all over again. “A cool video like this one should get me – what? – five hundred new followers? Pretty soon I’ll have millions, like that Cameron Dallas, or that Zach King dude, or Rhianna. And I’m way better looking.”
“Way better looking,” Echo repeated, offering a small smile.
“That’s what I was saying!” Narcissus replied, and went back to his cranberry juice video.
“Everybody loves that Fleetwood Mac thing.”
“Everybody loves that Fleetwood Mac thing,” Echo said, nodding in agreement as she returned to her phone.
“You said it!” Narcissus said, and technically he was correct. He flipped through more videos of himself, including one of him wearing a laurel wreath he kept as a memento of the Roman woods from which they originally came. “I love that wreath,” he said.
“I love that wreath,” Echo replied.
They smiled at each other and then returned to their phones for a while, although Echo’s mind seemed elsewhere. In fact, it was not long before she was startled and began repeating what was on her screen as opposed to repeating what Narcissus had just said, but repeating just the same. “Relationships can be made more intimate and durable through a commitment to openness and transparency,” she said, pointing to the words on her phone as she read them. (Learning to read expanded both her horizons and conversation.) She looked up, puzzled.
Narcissus wasn’t listening – his eyes never left his screen. “This one of me in the convertible is pretty good, too.” He leaned over to show her the screen.
“The convertible is pretty good, too,” Echo said, her tone growing frustrated..
Narcissus swiped energetically. “And this one of me modeling clothes – it’s the bomb.”
“It’s the bomb,” Echo repeated, smiling weakly. They again focused on their devices – he at himself, she at things to repeat – until she again read her screen, word by word. “A simple twenty minutes of walking, calm thinking, or meditation can reduce your level of cortisol and help create wellness and composure.” She paused, her fingers going to her lips as she considered what she repeated.
Narcissus looked over at her screen and saw Echo’s words there. “Why are you looking at that, honey? You know you’re just going to repeat stuff they tell you. The therapist thinks that’s bad. Here – let me find some cool stuff to watch.”
“Cool stuff to watch,” she agreed and nodded, focusing again on him. Narcissus went flipping through his phone for more videos of himself, but when he found them, they distracted him so completely he forgot to show them to Echo. She, meanwhile, returned to her phone, and after a few moments, read from it again. “Gratitude is the key to building intimacy.”
Narcissus didn’t look up. “To building what?” he said, now watching a video of himself dancing in a glade in a forest. He was wearing the wreath again. “Look at this,” he said, showing her his phone again
Echo remained glued to her screen. “Look at this.”
“Look at what? Are you watching my dancing in the forest video?” he said, grinning. “it’s really good.”
Echo read her screen once more. “Expressing interest in others increases your mental and physical health,” she read, then held the phone up to him. Narcissus didn’t look up. Echo looked at him frustratedly and began scrolling on her phone until she found else something worth repeating. “People often find themselves trapped in self-defeating and counterproductive relationships,” she read pointedly, glancing at him as she read the words one by one, their meaning beginning to dawn on her.
“Sucks for them,” Narcissus replied.
“Sucks for them!” Echo agreed emphatically.
Narcissus looked up, slowly becoming aware that Echo seemed dissatisfied. “Are you OK? Like, are you having some kind of problem?””
“Having some kind of problem,” Echo declared, her tone now more accusatory.
“Why are you looking at me like what?” Narcissus blurted defensively. “Is this about our relationship?”
“About our relationship!” Echo said.
Narcissus sighed with exasperation. “Are you going to bring up all that stuff from the Roman woods again? OK, I was a bit of a dick. But that was forever ago. Jupiter gave us another chance. We’re happy here, aren’t we? Echo, babe, you’ve got to control your attitude,” he said entreatingly, rubbing her shoulders.
“You’ve got to control your attitude!” she said, pulling back.
“I am,” Narcissus said, surprised by her insistence, then added, “although you could tell me how nice I look,” he said, pulling up another video of himself.
“You could tell me how nice I look!”
Narcissus was now confused. “Echo, baby,” he said, “I thought we were going to give this a chance. I thought we agreed I would get help, that we would work on changing.”
Echo put down her phone and looked at him. “Work on changing.”
Narcissus’ annoyance was mounting. “Echo, honey, if you’re going to be like that, then maybe we ought to break up.”
Echo’s jaw clenched and firmed. “We ought to break up.”
Narcissus laughed involuntarily. “Babe, it’s just old mountain nymph stuff again. It happened two thousand years ago. I thought we were over that. I’m over it,” he said, even as a video of him overlooking a scenic vista was playing.
“I’m over it!” Echo answered, and strode purposefully into their bedroom. Narcissus heard drawers opening and closing in rapid succession.
He followed her in. “What are you doing? Are you packing?”
“Packing,” Echo said without looking up. She collected things from around the room and bathroom and threw her few possessions into a bag, but then spied their the laurel wreath from the ancient Roman woods sitting on the dresser.
“No! Not the laurel!” Narcissus shouted.
“The laurel,” Echo repeated as she held it resolutely.
“I look so good in that!” Narcissus cried.
Echo whirled to face him. “I look so good in that,” she said, threw it in her bag, and marched to the door. She opened it and turned back to him.
Narcissus stammered as it occurred to him she light leave. “Please don’t go, Echo baby. Don’t do it. No! I’m going to change!”
She paused halfway out the door when she turned to him. “No,” she said firmly. “I’m going to change.”
And with that she was gone, for there was nothing left to say..
Happy Valentine's Day!
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