"Oh," Anton said. That was all he could manage. It was obvious that Davan believed whole-heartedly everything he was saying, and just as obvious that not a word of it could be true. The Greek gods were archetypes created to explain what, to ancient Man, was unexplainable. They didn't really exist. All those stories of the gods climbing down off Mount Olympus to hook up with humans were just analogies for Man's divine spirit, the special spark of self-consciousness that separated him from the animals. That was what Anton believed, but he had nothing to say in the face of Davan's utter conviction.
Abruptly, he felt pity for the guy and disgust that he had ever felt sorry for himself and his own situation. Davan was a lot worse off than him. Anton at least knew he was sick, and that was the one thing that kept him believing in his own sanity. He would have to be gentle with Davan. He wanted to be sympathetic, didn't want to upset Davan's world view. He should have at least one place to be comfortable where he didn't have to feel like he was under siege. Anton knew how that felt, and he didn't want to make any other person live that way.
"My mother is in Ohio," he offered tentatively, trying for the casual, normal response. "She volunteers at the church."