It all started the very first time my queen, Persephone, had to go back up to earth to do her goddess-of-spring thing. “Hades!” she called. “Come help me close these suitcases!”

I headed for the bedroom with my III-headed pooch, Cerberus, at my heels. I stopped at the door. The room was filled with dozens of large overstuffed suitcases. Not one of them looked as if it would close. Ever!

“Sit on that one, will you, Hades?” Persephone pointed. “Bounce up and down a bit.”

I did. Me, King of the Underworld. It was very undignified.

“Bounce harder, Hades,” said Persephone. “Good. Got it!”

Persephone is not a goddess who travels light. She’d spent an entire week packing her dozens of robes and tunics. Not to mention handbags, scarves, headbands, and girdles (old speak for “belts”). But it was her oodles of sandals that put her over the edge, luggage-wise. My dog and I both had to sit on the lids of all those bulging suitcases before she could snap them shut.

“Thanks, Cerbie,” Persephone said when the last lock finally clicked. She patted all three of his heads. “Thanks, Hades.” She gave my head a pat, too.

Cerberus wagged his stumpy tail. With his triple-brain power, he’d figured out that all those suitcases meant Persephone was going bye-bye. He’s a one-god dog and likes nothing better than having me all to himself.

Persephone had promised to go up to earth every spring. Her mother, Demeter, is the goddess of agriculture. Wheat, corn, alfalfa sprouts—you name it—Demeter is in charge of making it grow. When Persephone told her mom she wanted to marry me and become Queen of the Underworld, Demeter had a fit. She swore an unbreakable oath on the River Styx that if Persephone lived in the Underworld, all growing things on earth would die. Well, Mother Earth—my Granny Gaia—wasn’t about to put up with that! There was a big court battle, and at last it was decided that Persephone could only be my part-time queen.

Now, for three months of the year, Persephone lives with me in the Underworld. True to her word, Demeter stops tending the plants on earth and they die. You mortals call this time winter. Then, each year on March XXI, Persephone returns to earth to bring the spring. And she stays for nine months to help her mom. Then on December XXI, she comes back to me. You may think this is a strange arrangement. But for Persephone and me, it works just fine.

“Here, Hades.” Persephone handed me a small, wrapped box. “I bought you a little going-away present.”

“No kidding.” I tore off the paper and opened it. “A wallet!” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. “Oh, P-phone, you shouldn’t have.”

“It’s not just any old wallet, Hades,” Persephone said. “I had it monogrammed. See?”

I flipped it over. Sure enough, gold letters were stamped into the leather: K.H.R.O.T.U.

I looked up, puzzled. “Khro-tu?”

“King Hades, Ruler of the Underworld,” she explained. Persephone picked up the big hourglass I keep on my dresser and handed it to me. “Put this in the wallet.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I said. “That thing is huge.”

Persephone gave me one of her looks, so I opened the wallet. To my surprise, it grew as I held it, and the hourglass slipped easily inside. Then the wallet returned to its original size, right before my eyes.

“Wow!” I exclaimed. “How does it do that?”

Persephone shrugged. “It’s magical,” she said. “I ordered it from the Nymphs of the North Catalog. It expands to hold whatever you want to carry. Then it shrinks down again so you can put it in your pocket.”

“Thank you so much, Phoney, honey!” I said. And then it hit me. I hadn’t gotten her anything. “Um, and about your, uh, gift—”

“Oh stop, Hades,” said Persephone. “I know you didn’t get me a present. I wanted to surprise you, that’s all. But, if you really want to, you can take me to dinner tonight at the Underworld Grill.”

“You’re on!” I said.

“Great.” Persephone smiled. “We have an VIII o’clock reservation. And after dinner, you can take me to the concert at Elysium. Blue Cheese Blues is playing. They are so awesome!”

We had a good time.

*  *  *

First thing the next morning, I hitched my steeds, Harley and Davidson, to my biggest chariot and drove Persephone up to earth. I took her right to the door of the little apartment she’d rented in Athens for the spring season and carried in her bags. They weighed a dekaton! By the time I’d finished, I’d worked up quite a drosis (old Greek speak for “god sweat”).

“Bye, Hades,” Persephone said, giving me a hug. “I’ll miss you!”

“Bye, P-phone!” I said. “See you next weekend!”

I drove back to the Underworld then. Charon ferried me across the River Styx, and I dropped the usual gold coin into his eager palm.

“Oh, and Lord Hades?” Charon said, as I led Harley and Davidson off his boat. “I hear there’s a little problem over at Motel Styx.”

Motel Styx is the temporary quarters for ghosts who’ve just arrived in the Underworld. When I rode over to check it out, I found that every toilet in the place was overflowing. Little problem? Ha! The new ghosts were howling and complaining. Some had even trashed their rooms in protest. It took me the rest of the day to get the plumbing ghosts over there to get the mess mopped up.

At last I headed back to my palace, Villa Pluto. I’d been working so hard all day, I hadn’t had time to miss Persephone. But when I walked through the palace door, it hit me. Persephone wasn’t there. And she wouldn’t be back for months. I sighed as I headed down the hall with Cerbie.

“Uh-oh,” Tisi exclaimed when I walked into the den. She stared at me with her fierce red eyes. “Someone is feeling very sorry for himself tonight.”

“Okay, I miss Persephone,” I said. I plopped down in my La-Z-God recliner with a chilled Necta-Cola and cranked up the footrest. “So, how about we order a pizza and watch a little wrestling?”

Tisi shook her head. The dozens of snakes that sprang from her scalp began hissing softly. “Meg, Alec, and I have a full schedule of avenging ahead of us tonight.” (Tisi and her sister are Furies, whose job it is to punish the wicked.)

“Plus, we have to undo a punishment,” she added. She stretched one glossy black wing and then the other in preparation for her flight up to earth. “Remember that young mortal in Thebes I told you about?”

“The one who wouldn’t help his mother bring the goats in from the pasture?” I asked.

“That’s the one.” Tisi nodded. “Last week we gave him the Red Eye. We hypnotized him and made him think he was a goat. He was so funny, capering and trotting around with the herd. Even his mother thought so. But enough is enough. Tonight we’ll go and bring him back to himself. Gotta run, Hades. Toodle-oo!”

I waved as Tisi left. “Well, Cerbie,” I said. “It’s just you and me tonight, boy.”

Cerberus didn’t answer. I looked down and saw that he’d fallen asleep at my feet.

“Make that just me,” I muttered. Feeling very much alone, I clicked on the TV. A cheerful announcer was saying, “And for a fifty-drachma pledge, we’ll send you the official ‘Hugs’ Python tote bag!”

Oh, no! I’d forgotten it was fund-raising week on the Wrestling Channel. All matches were on hold until they reached their goal.

“Or for a pledge of only two hundred drachmas—” a picture of Hugs flashed onto the screen showing the snake wearing a silver wrestling belt— “we’ll send you a signed copy of Hugs’s brand-new autobiography, Squeeze Play.”

I’m not a Hugs fan, but my little brother, Poseidon, is crazy for the snake. Po’s the ruler of the seas. At that time, he was going through a wild party-god phase. He’d put blue streaks in his hair and was wearing one golden sea-horse earring. He was always racing around in his coral-red sea chariot convertible, trying to wow the sea goddesses.

But still, Po was good company. For years, it had just been the two of us, growing up together down in Dad’s belly. That’s why, of all my brothers and sisters, Po’s the one I’m closest to. I decided to give him a call.

We gods have had phones and other high-tech gizmos for centuries, long before you mortals. But recently, Demeter had invented a teeny little portable phone. She’d done it for only one reason—to keep track of Persephone. But most of us gods got the little phones soon after. I hit the number of Po’s island palace on my memory dial.

“Hey, Po,” I said when he picked up. “It’s me, Hades.”

“Hades, you old dog,” said Po. “What’s going on?”

“Not much,” I said. “Persephone had to go back to earth. You free to have dinner?”

“Free as a fish, big bro,” said Po. “Come on over!”

“Be right there.” I hopped up and out of my La-Z-God. Cerbie was still out, with two mouths snoring. “See you, pup!”

I hurried to the bedroom to get my Helmet of Darkness. It was a gift from my Cyclopes uncles, and I never leave home without it. When I put it on, POOF! I vanish. (At least that’s what happens XCV percent of the time. The other V percent, the helmet spews sparks and shorts out.)

I slipped the helmet into my wallet and watched, amazed, as it shrank down again to pocket size. I had to hand it to Persephone. She’d gotten me an incredibly useful gift. What could I get her, I wondered, as I slipped the wallet into my robe pocket. I clipped my lunx (old Greek speak for “flashlight”) onto my girdle and headed for the stable. There, I hitched Harley and Davidson to my small II-seater chariot and galloped up to earth.

We gods can travel instantly to most places in the cosmos. We simply, chant an astro-traveling spell, and ZIP! we’re there. (Where do you think ZIP codes came from?)

But astro-traveling doesn’t work to get us to or from the Underworld. It takes most immortals nine days to travel between earth and my kingdom. Even I, the king of the place, have to travel the old-fashioned way—by foot, donkey, or chariot. Luckily, I know a super shortcut, and I got up to earth that day in less than two hours.

I galloped to Phaeton’s Chariot Garage, outside Athens, and parked in the short-term lot. Then I chanted the spell and ZIP! Seconds later, my feet touched down on the sands of Po’s island. I headed up the crushed-oyster-shell walk to Cabana Calypso, Po’s palace, which is built entirely of seashells. One of Po’s sea nymphs let me in.

“Your brother is dressing, King Hades,” she said.

I thanked her and headed down the hallway. “Po?” I called.

“In the bathroom, Hades!” he answered.

I walked back, and found Po, grinning into his shell-bedecked mirror.

“Hey, hey, Hades!” he said, slapping on way too much Sea Breeze cologne. “Are you ready to party the night away, big brother?”

“What are you talking about, Po?” I said. “We’re just having dinner.”

“Don’t drosis it, Hades,” Po said. “We’re still having dinner. Only now we’re being joined by three of the most gorgeous young moon goddesses this side of Olympus.” His sea-blue eyes lit up. “I mean, they are lookers, Hades. Long silky hair, nice—”

“Hold it!” I said. “I’m not looking for a party tonight, Po!”

“You will be, big bro,” said Po. He grabbed my elbow and began pulling me down the hallway with him. “First we’ll go tubing. You won’t believe my new dolphins, Hades. They’re speed demons. They go about two hundred dekameters a second. It’s like flying!”

I try never to travel on water, because I get seasick. Even rowboats make me feel queasy. But Po dragged me down to his dock and yanked me into the sea chariot beside him. A big cooler sat on the backseat, along with the inflated sea monster’s bladder that Po used for tubing.

“Oh, and guess who else is joining us, bro?” said Po. “Zeus.”

“Zeus?” I cried. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just did.” Po revved up his dolphins. “Lighten up, Hades!” he shouted as we started bumping madly over the waves. “The three of us haven’t done anything fun together since our road trip down to the Underworld when we sprang the Cyclopes from jail.”

I couldn’t yell over all the noise—Po’s new dolphins were real screechers—and with so much spray hitting me in the face, so I only nodded. Spending an evening with Po in his party-god mode had its downside. But spending an evening with Zeus? That would be torture! I’d have to listen to the old myth-o-maniac’s endless bragging, his everlasting lies. What could be worse?

Then Po yelled, “We’re meeting Zeus at Athena’s brand-new temple! It’s only been open a couple of days. I thought it would be a fun spot for a moonlight picnic.”

“What?” I cried. “Have you lost your mind? Athena only allows mortals bearing really spectacular sacrifices to set foot in her temples. She considers this new temple to be the most sacred of them all! She’d go nuts if she thought we were going there for a picnic!”

“I know, I know!” Po yelled back. “That’s why it’ll be so much fun!”