Divine Misfortune

9

Bonnie had horrible dreams. They weren’t like ordinary nightmares, neither vague nor surreal. More like an edited playback of her life, as if someone had shot a movie, cut out all the good parts, and left only a parade of tragic, painful, and humiliating moments. She awoke, feeling as if she hadn’t slept a wink.

Syph, head bowed, sat in the corner of the bedroom.

“Oh, Jupiter,” groaned Bonnie. “What are you doing?”

The goddess raised her head. Her hair fell across her face, but she gazed at Bonnie with one colorless eye.

Bonnie covered her head with the blanket. She turned over and tried to go back to sleep. But she could feel the goddess still looking at her. Bonnie just wanted to get some sleep, to find refuge in unconsciousness. But even asleep, there was no escape from Syph.

“I’m sorry,” said the goddess. “About the dreams. In time, you’ll get used to them.”

“That’s what you think,” mumbled Bonnie from under the blanket. She had no intention of getting used to any of this, and she wasn’t about to surrender to the goddess’s influence. She hadn’t asked to follow Syph, and there had to be a way of getting out from under her.

The alarm blared.

She didn’t want to get up. She just wanted to lie here and wither away. But that was the goddess, not her. Bonnie was a happy person. She tried to stay positive no matter what. It wasn’t always easy. Not after her mom died. Or when she broke her leg and lost her dance school scholarship. Or that time her dog was hit by a car. And there was that car accident when she thought she might’ve had whiplash. And that other time when-

Bonnie sat up and blocked the negative thoughts seeping into her mind.

“Sorry.” Syph stood. “Would you like some breakfast? I can go make some eggs, if you’d like.”

“That’d be nice,” replied Bonnie insincerely. She wasn’t hungry, but it’d get Syph out of her hair.

After the tattered goddess left the room, Bonnie felt a little better. She was able to drag herself out of bed and get dressed. She couldn’t make herself take a shower, but she did run a comb through her hair and find the energy to brush her teeth. It was important to keep going through the motions, despite the weight bearing down on her. Bonnie couldn’t give in to the hopelessness.

Syph had a plate of runny eggs, burned toast, and a bowl of cereal sitting on the table.

“Don’t eat the cereal,” she said. “The milk has soured.”

“I just bought that milk,” said Bonnie.

Syph shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Do me a favor, will you? If you’re not going to leave me alone could you at least stop all the apologizing?”

It might’ve been a trick of the light, but Bonnie thought Syph almost smiled.

“Your eggs are getting cold.”

Though the scent of cooking was still fresh in the air, the eggs were ice-cold. Bonnie could tell just by looking because ice was forming on the plate. She didn’t eat them, didn’t even touch them. Accepting a gift from a goddess of heartbreak would only compound her problems.

“Thanks,” said Bonnie, “but I’m running late. I’ll grab something on the way.”

“No, you’re not,” replied Syph, “but thank you for bothering to make an excuse.”

Bonnie took the bus to work. Syph didn’t follow her out of the apartment, but the goddess still managed to beat Bonnie to the bus. Syph even saved her a seat.

A burly man with a permanent scowl occupied the seat behind her. His radio blasted out hard-core speed metal, where the guitarist played so fast the notes bled together and the vocalist roared. Thirty seconds after she boarded the bus the radio started playing twangy country songs about broken hearts and shattered lovers. He fiddled with the knobs to try to tune in another station and even changed the CD with no effect. Eventually he gave up and turned it off.

Syph didn’t get off the bus with Bonnie, but when she reached the bookstore, the goddess was already there, perusing the magazine section. Bonnie decided she would do her best to ignore Syph. Maybe if she was offered no acknowledgment Syph might push off and bother someone else.

Bonnie went to the break room and clocked in. Ms. Carter, the assistant manager, pulled her aside.

“I trust you are feeling better today, Bonnie.”

There was an accusation there. Carter was a stickler. Bonnie had been working at Books N’ More for four years now, and she’d missed only one other day. It had just happened to be Carter’s first day as assistant manager. Now Bonnie was branded as a slacker. Her nose piercing probably didn’t help, and she was pretty sure that her short hair qualified her as a potential lesbian in Carter’s estimation.

“Much better,” Bonnie replied.

It was a bit of a lie. She wasn’t herself, but she was adjusting. The goddess had been right. Yesterday had been rough. Last night, even rougher. This morning wasn’t so bad. She still felt the weight on her chest, the desire to surrender herself to oblivion. But that wasn’t her. That was the goddess’s influence. Knowing that helped her to work around it.

Carter frowned, but she was always frowning. “Good, Bonnie. I hope we can trust you to be a reliable member of the Books N’ More family.”

“Yes, Ms. Carter.”

Her boss walked away in her standard kick-step mode of walking.

Bonnie discovered it wasn’t so easy to ignore Syph. The tattered goddess didn’t speak to Bonnie, didn’t follow her around. She merely lurked in the store, walking down the aisles, having a latte at the in-store café, browsing the magazine rack, and otherwise killing time like any other customer. But there were problems.

A customer threw a stack of bridal magazines on the counter while Bonnie was working the register.

“I need to return these,” the woman said.

“I’m sorry, we don’t take returns on magazines,” Bonnie replied. “It’s store policy.”

“But they’re defective.” The customer opened the top magazine and pointed to a random page. “Look!”

At first glance, the photo seemed fine. A closer inspection revealed the anomaly. The beautiful bride wasn’t quite so beautiful. She had the perfect dress, the perfect hair, the perfect bouquet. But she was snarling, and the mascara around her watery eyes was smudged.

Bonnie flipped through the pages. It only got worse. Article headlines reading “How to Poison That Cheating Bastard” and “Top 10 Reasons You’ll End Up Dying Alone” filled the magazine. Perfect photo brides frowned, then in later pictures became slouching withered figures in frayed, stained dresses. The very worst was a two-page spread of a wedding where the groom had decided to forgo his bride-to-be in favor of the maid of honor. Bonnie could understand that, but she did think it was a bit much for the happy couple to consummate their love in the middle of the aisle while the guests looked on.

Modern Homes magazine was full of photos of burning and crumbling houses. All the plants in the gardening magazines were dead. Bonnie wisely chose not to open the Kitten Fancier magazine.

“I want my money back,” said the customer. “I don’t care what your policy is.”

“Yes, I see what you mean,” said Bonnie. “Just give me a moment.”

“Hey, Bonnie,” said Vince, “have you seen Carter?”

“I think she’s in her office.”

“Not there. I checked.” He leaned over the counter and rifled through the drawer beside her. “Have you at least seen the key that unlocks the store radio station? I’m getting sick of listening to ’Copacabana’ over and over again.”

Barry Manilow’s crooning tragic tale was stuck on permanent replay. Although it seemed that every ten minutes or so Lola’s end was a bit more tragic. Bonnie didn’t think that in the original version an earthquake opened up, swallowing the heartbroken showgirl, the Copacabana, and a troop of orphaned Boy Scouts who just happened to be in the nightclub asking for directions to a charity campout jamboree.

“Somebody at that radio station is going to lose their job,” said Vince.

She feigned ignorance.

After refunding the customer’s money and throwing the magazines away to dispose of the evidence, Bonnie sought out Syph, sitting at the café.

Bonnie spoke through clenched teeth. “What are you doing?”

“I’d say I’m sorry, but you asked me not to do that anymore.”

The café clerk placed a cup of coffee before the goddess. “Here you go, ma’am. I’m afraid that all our dairy products have spoiled, so it’s free.”

“Why, thank you. I prefer it black actually. Black like the endless night that inevitably engulfs and devours all mortal souls.”

Bonnie glanced around before leaning closer. “You can’t do this,” she whispered. “I work here.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Go away. Go home. If you can’t leave me alone then at least go back to my apartment and wait for me there.”

“There’s nothing to do there.” Syph sipped her drink. She frowned. “More bitter than I expected, but then again, it always is.”

“May I speak with you a moment, Bonnie?” asked Carter. “If you’re not too busy chatting, that is.”

Bonnie plastered on a fake smile and turned from Syph.

“Have you seen this?” Carter held up a romance novel titled Love’s Empty Promises. The art was traditional except that the subjects weren’t particularly attractive. The long-haired hero was flabby and the redheaded heroine was cross-eyed and hunchbacked. They had their backs turned to each other, and the real shame was that this prevented them from noticing the cattle stampede rushing toward them.

“I think there’s something going on here.” Carter pointed over Bonnie’s shoulder at the goddess. “And I think it has to do with that customer there. I don’t think she’s an ordinary woman.”

“Probably just a homeless person,” said Bonnie. “She could be dangerous. Let me take care of her. You’re far too valuable to the store to risk-”

Carter pushed past Bonnie. “Excuse me, miss. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave the store.”

Syph took another sip. “I can’t do that. Not without her.”

Carter followed the goddess’s gaze to Bonnie.

“I can explain, Ms. Carter. I can. This is all just a misunderstanding.”

“No misunderstanding. I’m her goddess.”

“No, she’s not. She’s not! I didn’t solicit her, didn’t ask to be her follower.”

“You said hello,” observed Syph.

“I keep telling you that doesn’t count!”

The goddess shrugged.

Carter’s frown deepened. “Bonnie, the law prohibits Books N’ More from discriminating against anyone simply for their choice of god or goddess-”

“She’s not my goddess!” said Bonnie with a bit more force than she’d intended.

Carter’s brow knit in a disapproving glare. The outburst would probably find its way into Bonnie’s employee file.

She pulled Carter closer and whispered, “This is only temporary. I’m taking steps to get rid of her.”

Carter’s jaw tightened. “The policy of Books N’ More is to foster a spirit of tolerance toward its employees and whatever divine powers they choose to align themselves with, providing said alignment does not negatively affect their job performance.” She held up the romance novel. “Does this look as if it is not affecting your work, Bonnie?”

“Look, I’ll take my break now,” said Bonnie.

Bonnie grabbed the book from Carter. It immediately burst into flame. She dropped it and beat it out with a defective magazine.

Carter cleared her throat.

“I’ll take an early lunch now,” said Bonnie with a smile.

“She’s coming with me, and when I get back, I’ll come back alone. It’ll all be fine. I promise!” She grabbed Syph’s hand, ignoring the chill passing through her, and dragged the goddess toward the door.

There was a Burger Town just down the street. Bonnie ordered her lunch, then sat Syph down at a table.

“We need to have a talk,” said Bonnie. “I know you’re a goddess, and that by myself, I can’t get rid of you. But I think we both know that I have a slam-dunk case for a restraining order with Divine Affairs. So why don’t you save me the trouble of having to file with the court and-”

“It won’t save you. You don’t think you are the first to turn to Divine Affairs, do you?”

“But you have to follow the rulings of the court,” said Bonnie.

“You don’t get it, do you? Yes, if the court decreed it I would have to release you as my follower. But it takes time to bring a case to the court, time for a ruling to be handed down. Several months at least. And none of my followers have ever lasted that long.”

She sighed. A dove flew into the window beside them and broke its neck.

Bonnie stuffed a handful of fries into her mouth. Under Syph’s influence, they were cold and soggy. This was what Bonnie’s life was going to be like for the foreseeable future. A constant barrage of metaphorical soggy fries. Not a single drop of joy. Only unhappy endings. An endless depression that would eventually consume her soul.

“How many months do I have?” asked Bonnie.

“Four, perhaps five,” said Syph. “One lasted almost six before losing the will to live. His heart just stopped beating, and he turned to stone. Shame about that one. I rather liked him.”

Bonnie put her head on the table and almost cried. Almost.

“No!” She sat up and slammed her palms on the table. “I’m not giving in! I’m not going to sit here and let you kill me!”

Syph opened her eyes in startled surprise. It was the first time Bonnie had seen Syph appear anything other than depressingly resigned.

“There has to be a way to fix this,” said Bonnie. “Mortals have defied the gods successfully before.”

“Not in a very long time. The Age of Legends has long passed. A shame. They were brighter days.”

Syph smiled and sighed wistfully. Bonnie braced herself for another dead bird or icy wind or symbolic spontaneous combustion. Instead, the dark cloud hiding the sun moved to one side and allowed a few warm rays to shine down on Bonnie and her goddess. The moment didn’t last. The cloud jumped back into its solar-interception duties, and a roach crawled out from under Bonnie’s burger bun.

She flicked it away. “What just happened?”

“Hmmm?”

“I felt better all of a sudden.” Bonnie took a bite of a fry. It was still tasteless, but there was a little crispiness. “And so were you. Don’t deny it. I saw you smile.”

“Maybe I did. Aren’t I allowed a smile every so often? Must I always be dour?”

“I don’t know. Mustn’t you? You are a goddess of tragedy and hopelessness, aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t always.” Syph spoke in a low embarrassed tone. “A long time ago… well, I suppose that’s not important anymore.”

She slouched, and a crack split the window. “It’s not worth talking about.”

Bonnie wasn’t so sure about that.

“Gods can change their province?” she asked. “I didn’t think you could do that.”

Syph nodded.

“So why don’t you just change then? You obviously aren’t happy as the goddess of tragedy.”

“It doesn’t work like that. I can’t choose to change. It’s not something I control.”

“How?”

“It’s not important. I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Oh no. You don’t get off the hook that easy.”

Syph arched her eyebrows in surprise.

“It was such a long time ago, I hardly remember it, when I wasn’t what I now am.” A reluctant smile crossed Syph’s face. The cloud scooted over to allow half the sun to shine.

Bonnie bit into her burger, after checking for roaches, and discovered it wasn’t absolutely terrible. It wasn’t good, but she didn’t want to spit it out. She was grasping for any possible solution to her goddess problem. At the very least, it eased her suffering to get Syph to talk about it. That had to mean something.

“You dragged me into this,” said Bonnie. “You owe me.”

“I don’t see how it’s relevant.”

Bonnie smiled mirthlessly. “Indulge me.”

Syph thought about this a moment, and it must have brightened her day because the cloud vanished from the sky in a puff.

“It’s funny. No one has ever asked me about this before. No one ever cared.”

Bonnie didn’t care either. Not about the goddess anyway. But if it made Syph feel better about herself and made Bonnie’s life better in the process, she was perfectly willing to play along. She reached across the table and patted Syph’s hand. It was cold, but not as cold as before.

“You wouldn’t know it to look at me,” said Syph, “but I was once the goddess of love. I brought only joy and hope to all around me, made the world a more beautiful place. Everything I touched was brightened by my presence, and my favor was coveted by king and peasant alike.

“But my influence didn’t end with mortals. I was courted by all the best gods. The most powerful of deities sought my company. There wasn’t a god I couldn’t seduce with merely a demure smile and a coy glance.”

Bonnie studied the colorless, icy goddess sitting across from her. It was hard to imagine.

“And I dated them all,” said Syph. “From the most insignificant mortal to the most powerful of the divine. I gleefully spread my joy across the heavens and Earth without care, and should have done so until the end of time.”

“So what happened?”

Syph sighed. The cloud came back, bigger and blacker than ever.

“I fell in love.”

Bonnie waited for further explanation, but Syph just sat there. She bit her lower lip as a single bloodred tear ran down her cheek.

“I don’t understand,” said Bonnie. “Shouldn’t that have been a good thing?”

Syph chortled. Or tried to. But all that came out of her tight throat was a strangled grunt.

“Would it serve a goddess of death to die herself? Or a goddess of war to see the world of mortals consumed in nuclear holocaust? The needs and welfare of gods doesn’t rely solely on a singular motivation.”

“Hadn’t thought of it like that,” admitted Bonnie.

“Few mortals do. You think it’s easy to be a god. But we are as fallible and foolish as mortals. Perhaps even more so, since our immortality often leads to boredom, and boredom leads to recklessness. And it’s easy to be reckless when immortality usually keeps us from having to deal with the consequences of our actions.” She laughed again, bitterly. The cloud rumbled, growing to cover half the sky.

“At first, it was wonderful. I, the goddess of love, had discovered love. Genuine love. My powers increased, and for a while, I thought I might even be able to usher in a new golden age in Heaven and Earth.”

“What happened?”

Syph lowered her head and mumbled into her shoulder.

“What?” asked Bonnie.

Syph pulled her hand away and studied her fingernails. “He dumped me.”

A rolling storm materialized over the Burger Town. People ran for cover as tiny heart-shaped pieces of hail rained down. Each piece shattered exactly in half upon impact.

“And?” asked Bonnie.

Syph looked Bonnie in the eye. “And what?”

“And what else? Something else must have happened to change you.”

“You still don’t understand, do you? I was dumped.”

“Hold it,” said Bonnie. “Don’t you gods and goddesses leap out of each other’s lives all the time? Don’t you have brief infatuations, followed by hollow relationships? You’re always cheating on each other, right?”

“Not always.”

“Uh-huh,” said Bonnie skeptically.

“Okay, so usually that is true. Although there are true and long-lasting marriages among the gods. Though not many, I’ll admit. Immortality and boredom are rarely healthy for a long-term relationship.”

“What’s the big deal then?” said Bonnie. “You got dumped. Business as usual among immortals, isn’t it?”

“No. Not business as usual. The right thing to do would have been to marry me. Even if he didn’t love me, he should’ve wanted to possess me only because I was desired by others. Or he could’ve waited until enough time passed that we would’ve naturally drifted apart. But he dumped me. Me. The goddess of love, rejected by her first true love. I was in my heyday, and he was only a minor god. But I chose him, despite the dozens of proposals from much more influential and desirable deities. Zeus himself was among my suitors.”

“You almost married Zeus?”

“Married? No, not married. Hera wouldn’t have been very happy about that. But he did offer to buy me a condo on Mount Olympus along with a generous allowance.”

Bonnie cracked a smile. “You’re telling me you were almost a kept goddess?”

“It was a very generous offer. I didn’t consider it. Not seriously. But it was nice to be asked.”

The storm dissolved. The sun beamed. As much as Bonnie hated to ruin the goddess’s mood and the weather, she still needed answers.

“Why don’t you tell me about this guy?”

She braced herself for the worst, but it wasn’t as bad as she expected. That small cloud covered the sun, and her remaining fries were suddenly covered in a fuzzy orange fungus.

“Why do you want to know?” asked Syph.

“Maybe because it will make you feel better to talk about it.” And when you feel better, Bonnie added to herself, I feel better.

She spent the remainder of her lunch hour listening to Syph reminisce about her lost love. When the memories were good, the sky was clear and the birds sang. When they were bad, those same birds would fall silent and car accidents would happen in the nearby intersection. Nobody was seriously hurt, though at one point a blind man had his foot run over. Bonnie felt bad about that, but she encouraged Syph to continue.