Divine Misfortune

12

“I challenge,” said Lucky.

“You challenge?” Quick tapped the table with his clawed fingertips. “But it’s a word. S-O-M-B-R-E-R-O. A wide-brimmed hat.”

“I know what it is,” said Lucky. “But it’s not an English word and the rules say very clearly that all words must be in English.”

“No, the rules say words must appear in the dictionary.”

“So I challenge. Check the dictionary.”

Quick picked up the pocket dictionary resting beside the Scrabble board and flipped through to the S section.

“Is it in there?” asked Lucky with a wry grin.

“No, it’s not,” replied Quick, “but that’s not fair. The page is missing. Just like every other page that would contain every other word that you’ve challenged.”

“It’s not my fault the only dictionary we could find was defective.”

“Then whose fault is it?”

“Hey, it’s just my nature. I can’t help it.” Lucky laid out all his tiles, reading as he went. “Z-E-O-L-I-T-E.”

“That’s not a word,” said Quick.

“Do you challenge?”

“What’s it mean?”

“Do you challenge?” asked Lucky.

“You don’t know what it means, do you? You just laid out the tiles at random, didn’t you?”

“I know what it means,” replied Lucky after a moment’s hesitation. “Do you know what it means?”

“Why don’t you tell me then?” asked Quick.

“Why don’t you tell me?” said Lucky.

“Just admit it. You don’t know what it means.”

“Okay, so I don’t. But I don’t have to know. That’s not in the rules.”

The gods stared at each other across the coffee table of honor.

Lucky smiled. “Do you challenge or not?”

Quick scooped up the dictionary and flipped through it. He slammed the book onto the table. “I hate playing games of chance with you.”

“Scrabble is not a game of chance. It is a game of skill with an element of chance. There’s a difference. And don’t be such a sore loser. Come on. You’re due! Nobody wins all the time. Not even me. I think I saw an old copy of Clue in the closet.”

“Don’t you need three for Clue?”

Phil walked through the front door.

“Phil will join us,” said Quick. “Won’t you, Phil?”

“Uh, sure,” said Phil. “What are we doing?”

“Playing Clue.” Lucky bounded to the other room to get the game.

“It’s been forever since I played that game,” said Phil.

Quick shook his head.

“What?”

“You’ll see.”

“You have a little something there.” Quick pointed to a spot of white bird crap on Phil’s shoulder.

“You should see my car.”

“Uh-hmm.” Quick grinned. “Let me guess. For the most part everything was going great today, but sometimes, odd moments of improbable bad luck hit you out of nowhere.”

Phil nodded. “How’d you know?”

“The universe is a chaotic place by nature. Gods of fortune can curb that, even bend it in the favor of their followers, but they can’t completely prevent bad things from happening.”

Lucky returned with the game and started setting it up.

“Want to explain about entropic balance?” asked Quick. “You’re the luck god.”

“It’s not that complicated,” said Lucky as he laid out the miniature pewter murder weapons. “In the old days, we usually just ignored it and all that ill fortune gathered up in a giant clump of negative karma hanging over our followers’ heads. Eventually, it would fall and fall hard. Whammo, a lifetime of delayed entropy would hit them all at once.” He punched his fist into his palm. “The results… not very pretty.

“But you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” said Lucky. “We eventually figured out that if we allowed small bits of random chaos into our followers’ daily lives we could defuse the big whammy. Entropy isn’t picky. It just doesn’t like being ignored. So a few odd misfortunes here, a little bizarre luck there, and everything works itself out just fine.”

“I didn’t think you had to worry about stuff like that,” said Phil. “I thought you just did whatever you wanted.”

“Oh, we have rules we have to follow, too,” said Quick.

“Are you allowed to admit that in front of me?” Phil asked. “Isn’t there some kind of rule against it?”

Lucky and Quick chuckled.

“Some gods think we should present an all-powerful image to mortals all the time,” said Lucky. “But they’re humorless pricks.”

Phil laughed. He was becoming used to this. Not just talking with gods and living with gods, but actually liking them despite himself. But Lucky and Quick weren’t immortals as he knew them. They weren’t aloof or terrifying or wrathful. They were just a couple of working stiffs scraping by with a handful of followers and hoping to get ahead. Even if he would have preferred not having a reformed Aztec sun god sleeping on his sofa, he could relate.

They picked their pawns, and Lucky won the roll to see who would go first.

“Imagine that,” mumbled Quick.

“Oh don’t be such a spoilsport.”

Lucky picked up the die just as the front door opened. Teri stepped in, a little disheveled and with a slightly dazed expression.

“Teri, what’s wrong?” asked Phil.

“There was an accident.”

Quick threw a glare at Lucky, who stared nonchalantly at the die in his hand.

“What happened?” Phil asked. “Are you hurt?”

“No, there were some injuries, but nothing serious. I got hit by a truck. It was a real mess. I could’ve been killed.” She absorbed the thought. “I should’ve been killed.”

Phil put his arm around her and guided her to the sofa. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Lucky’s car saved my life.”

Quick cleared his throat while Lucky straightened out the line of miniature murder weapons.

Teri gave a brief account of her accident. She mentioned the strange speckled pigeons at the end.

“That’s weird,” said Phil. “I was attacked by spotted birds today, too.”

“Are we going to play this game or not?” asked Lucky. “This murder isn’t going to solve itself. Didn’t a great mortal once remark that justice delayed is justice denied?”

“I got it.” Phil snapped his fingers and pointed to his god. “This is all because of you.”

“These things happen,” said Lucky. “I don’t think there’s anything to be gained by overanalyzing random events like this.”

Quick grunted.”-Says the luck god.”

Lucky’s smile faded. “Well, now, I can explain-”

“It’s more of that entropic rebalancing, isn’t it?” Phil said. “The pressure valve to keep the really bad stuff from happening.”

“Yes! Karmic necessity. No big thing. A little inconvenient, sure, but not really a problem.”

“Getting run over by a truck is not an inconvenience,” said Quick.

“Hey, I’m thirsty,” said Lucky. “Anybody else thirsty?”

“I could use a soda,” said Phil.

“One soda, coming up!” Lucky grabbed Quick by the wing. “Want to help me with this one, buddy?”

“Help you grab a soda? Does that really require two gods?”

“Excuse us.” Lucky pulled Quick into the kitchen.

“Will you cut it out?” whispered Lucky as he grabbed a beverage.

“They need to know,” said Quick.

“They’re my followers. That’s for me to decide. So why don’t you mind your own business?”

Quick flapped his wings in exasperation.

Lucky poked the serpent god in the chest. “If you find it too hard to shut up, you’re always free to find another place to crash.”

Quick snarled. “You’re an asshole.”

Lucky’s ears fluttered. “All part of my charm.”

They returned to the living room.

“One soda for my newest follower,” announced Lucky boisterously. He tossed the can to Phil.

“I was just explaining how it works,” said Phil. “The way that weird things have to happen to keep chaos in check. It’s not going to always be like this, is it?”

“Oh no,” said Lucky. “It’ll balance itself out eventually, and you can trust that while you’re under my influence even vicious squirrels and nasty birds are little more than an inconvenience.”

Quick bit his lip hard enough that his fangs drew blood.

“So are we going to play or not?” asked Lucky. “If I recall correctly, I’m first. And I think I will try to solve the crime.”

“You haven’t even eliminated any suspects yet,” said Phil.

“Can’t hurt to take a guess, can it? I think it was Professor Plum in the conservatory with the lead pipe.” Lucky opened the envelope and spread out the cards for everyone to see. “Must be my lucky day.”

Quick sighed. “This is why I only play checkers with gods of fortune.”