Divine Misfortune

15

Syph might have vanished, but her influence remained. Bonnie still had the unpleasant dreams and still felt as if she were walking around with an anvil strapped to her head, weighing her down, making her sluggish. The effects were diminished and her resistance to it was growing, but she still could sense the impending approach of crippling depression.

She took a shower. The hot water wasn’t working. She had some burned toast. She had to eat it dry because her butter had gone rancid. Then she drove to Lucky’s house and rang the doorbell.

Teri answered the door.

“Hi,” said Bonnie. “I’m sorry to bother you, but can I speak to Lucky?”

“I don’t think he came home last night, actually,” said Teri.

“Oh.”

Teri waited for Bonnie to say something else, but Bonnie had trouble slogging through her thoughts. She hadn’t developed a contingency plan. She hadn’t developed much of a plan at all.

“Can I help you with something?” asked Teri.

“I’m Bonnie. Bonnie Weinstein. You don’t know me, but my goddess is stalking your god. And she’s ruining my life. And I just wanted to talk to him because… well, I don’t really have a clear reason for that. But I didn’t have any better ideas, so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

Bonnie glanced over Teri’s shoulder and noticed Quetzal-coatl sitting on Teri’s sofa.

“How many gods do you have living here?”

“Just two,” said Teri.

“And they get along?” asked Bonnie.

“Maybe too well,” replied Teri. “Would you like to come in?”

Bonnie hesitated, studying the giant serpent in their living room. She leaned in and whispered, “He’s not going to eat me, is he?”

“Him? Oh, he’s harmless.”

Sensing Bonnie’s discomfort with the feathered serpent on the couch, Teri led Bonnie into the dining room. That plan failed, though, when Quick slithered in to join them.

“Let me grab my husband,” said Teri, leaving Bonnie alone with Quick.

“Hi, I’m Quick.”

He extended his wing, and she gingerly shook it.

“You don’t have to worry.” He offered a sharp-toothed grin. “I filled up on waffles at breakfast, so you’re perfectly safe.”

Both were quiet until Teri returned with Phil.

“Bonnie is having some goddess problems that she says have something to do with Lucky.”

Quick’s colorful plumage fell flat. “Not Syph again.”

“You know about this?” asked Phil.

“Oh, sure. It’s been a thing she’s had going for quite a while now. He was hoping she’d moved on this time.”

Bonnie filled Teri and Phil in on the dangers of being an unwilling follower of a heartbreak goddess. Quick offered his own insight.

“It’s something of an anomaly,” he explained. “We gods don’t fixate romantically. Not usually. It’s just not in our nature to have long-term relationships. It’s why we used to obsess over mortal lovers. Even if it’s a lifelong commitment, it’s only a mortal life. Over before you can get bored with it. Then again, most of us get bored long before that. But Syph is different. She just can’t let it go.

“It’s become her nature now. She can’t help it. Every time Lucky starts dating, Syph just shows up. I don’t think she even plans it. It just happens.”

“Can’t you stop her?” asked Bonnie. “Don’t you gods have rules you have to follow? Isn’t there some sort of peer pressure you can throw at her? Maybe an intervention?”

“I guess it’s possible. But she’s not doing anything serious. She’s just killing a few mortals. Nobody is going to notice.”

“I noticed,” said Bonnie.

“You’re right. It’s important. I wasn’t implying that you aren’t a victim in all this, and that nobody should care. But the gods, most of them anyway, are far too irresponsible to get involved.”

“What about you?” said Phil. “Can’t you do something?”

“I wish I could. But I’m not Bonnie’s god. There are rules in place to keep divine infighting to a minimum. And the most important is that a god will not directly intervene in the lives of another god’s followers. Or even in the lives of those who have chosen to remain unaffiliated. Hands off. It’s damage control. Too much bad press in the old days came from just doing whatever we wanted. So now we wait to be invited before we do anything. Most of us, anyway.”

“But I didn’t invite Syph,” said Bonnie. “She chose me.”

“That’s kind of a gray area,” admitted Quick, “but any sensible god will probably err on the side of caution. Better to let a few unfortunate mortals perish than get our hands dirty.”

“That’s terrific.”

“There has to be something we can do,” said Teri.

Quick smiled.

Bonnie scowled, thinking the god was getting off on her predicament. “What’s so damned amusing?”

Quick said, “It’s amazing. It really is. You mortals live such inconsequential lives, confined in tiny bodies, bound in tiny universes. Your time is so brief, and who could blame you if you decided to indulge your flicker of existence on every hedonistic impulse that entered your minds? But you still find time to care about each other, even strangers. It’s inspiring.”

“Does that mean you’ll help me?” asked Bonnie.

He hesitated.

“You just said that gods live without consequences.”

He flapped his wings in a shrug. “I’m just a minor deity at best. If I overstep my bounds, they’d probably make an example of me. I feel bad for you, Bonnie. But-”

“Just not enough to stick your neck out,” said Bonnie.

He folded his wings and studied them rather than look at her. “Prometheus threw you a little fire and look what happened to him.”

“I get it. Just another mortal screwed by the system. Why should you care?”

He mumbled an apology. The mortals stared across the table at each other for a few moments.

“That’s it then. There’s nothing we can do. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” Bonnie stood. “I’ll let myself out.”

“Wait.” Teri said, “We can at least talk to Lucky about this. He may not be your god, but he’s mine, and this does involve him. And he’s dating a friend of mine, too, so-” She turned to Quick. “You said this happens every time Lucky starts dating someone?”

“That’s right.”

“What happens to the mortal he’s dating when this goddess enters the picture?”

Quick didn’t answer.

“What happens?”

“What you think happens.”

“You knew about this?”

He nodded.

“And you didn’t warn us?”

“You’re not my followers,” he said.

“That’s pretty low, Quick. I expected more from you.”

The serpent god laid his head on the table and covered his eyes with his wings. “I wanted to tell you, but Lucky’s my friend. I didn’t think it was my place. I talked to him about it, and I’m pretty sure he was going to let you know.”

“When? After my friend was blasted by a bolt of lightning?”

“Lightning isn’t usually Syph’s style,” he replied.

She glared. The glitter went out of his scales and his rainbow feathers paled.

“I told you this god thing was a bad idea,” said Teri.

That was only half-true. While Phil had been the one to come up with the idea, she’d been the one to convince him to go through with it. She stormed away before he could say anything, though that was just as well as this would probably be a bad time to remind her.

“I’m sorry, Phil,” said Quick. “I thought about telling you, but it’s complicated. There’s a code of ethics.”

“It’s fine,” replied Phil. “I get it. Lucky’s your friend.”

He deliberately avoided sounding judgmental. He couldn’t blame Teri for being upset, but he couldn’t help seeing it from Quick’s perspective. Phil knew secrets about his friends and coworkers that he kept in confidence. And they knew things about him. There were secrets he even kept from Teri. Embarrassing bits from his past that he didn’t deliberately hide but never mentioned. None of those bits were earth-shattering, but it was all a matter of scale.

“You’re a good guy, Quick. Teri’s just upset now. She’ll get over it.”

Quick smiled. “Do you really think so?”

“Sure.”

Phil didn’t qualify his statement by adding that he wasn’t quite so positive that would be true if anything happened to Janet. He didn’t see the point in saying it. It was just another thing left unsaid to make someone feel better. The irony didn’t escape him.

Teri tried Janet’s cell number. There was no answer. She tried Janet’s home number next. Still no answer. She left messages, not saying too much, fearing Lucky might listen in on them.

She tried not to think the worst, but she couldn’t stop thinking of Janet lying smote somewhere. And Lucky, that inconsiderate bastard, running off to Valhalla to pick up chicks without giving her a second thought.

Teri dialed again.

The doorbell rang. She thought of Lucky, coming home from an all-night bender after casually discarding another mortal life for his own amusement. She’d let him know just what she thought of that. Screw the consequences of a rebuked divinity. She didn’t care. It was time to stop being pushed around by the whims of the gods. It was time for mortals to take a stand.

Her face twisted into a righteous scowl, she threw open the front door. Two men in dark blue suits greeted her. One of them was tall and balding with a pockmarked face, vaguely sinister. The other was unremarkable except for a pair of thick glasses.

“Hello, ma’am,” said the taller one in a slow, deep voice. “We have a special offer for you from the temple of the lord of sunken dreams.”

“No, thanks,” she said. “I gave at the office.”

She tried to close the door, but the tall one pushed it open. They shoved their way inside. The eyeglasses man pulled a pistol. He didn’t point it at her, but its mere presence was enough to make her raise her hands.

“Are you alone?” he asked.

The taller one said, “Why are you asking her that, Eugene? We know she’s not alone. We’ve been watching the place.”

“I was testing her honesty, idiot. And you aren’t supposed to use my name, Rick.” He waved his weapon at Teri. “Okay, miss. Where is everyone else?”

Teri didn’t answer.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” said Rick. “We should’ve waited.”

The gunmen tried to hide their squabbling by whispering. They still didn’t point their weapons directly at her. She could’ve possibly jumped the smaller one and taken away his gun. It might not have been that hard. But his partner wasn’t likely to just stand aside and watch.

The men ordered Teri into the dining room. The serpent god sitting at the table didn’t surprise them, but Eugene waved his gun at Bonnie.

“Who’s this? Who the hell is this, Rick?”

“I dunno. Some lady?”

“You didn’t mention her.”

“So?”

“So you were supposed to be watching.”

“She must’ve gone in when I wasn’t looking.”

“You were on lookout. Do you know what lookout means?”

“She’s just one lady. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“She’s an unknown quantity.” Eugene pointed. “We have the two followers and the serpent god. And that was supposed to be it.”

“Excuse me.” Quetzalcoatl raised a wing. “I hate to interrupt, but you do know who lives here, right?”

“You’re not allowed to interfere,” said Rick. “That’s against the rules. Tell him, Eugene.”

Quick said, “I know the rules. They aren’t my followers. Not my problem.”

“That’s right.” Eugene smirked. “So shut up. This doesn’t concern you.”

Quick shot across the dining room. He doubled in size, rearing up before the gunmen. His gold and silver scales sparkled, his plumage spread out like a rainbow-colored cobra’s hood, and he opened his jaws wide enough to swallow a human whole. They fell to their knees, cowering before the terrifying deity.

His voice grew rough and rumbling. “You really have thought of everything, haven’t you? I bet you even know that Lucky didn’t come home last night.”

They nodded.

“I can see you’re a couple of sharp guys,” said Quick. “You’d have to be sharp to try something like this. Or stupid. Sharp is keeping a watch on the house before making your move and knowing the rules. But stupid is taunting a god with your over-confidence. Stupid is not understanding that if you smirk at a god who doesn’t have much to lose, he could easily forget the rules and devour two arrogant mortals who are threatening a group of people that he has grown fond of.

“I swore off human flesh a few hundred years ago.” He licked his lips with his long, purple tongue. “But I’m feeling a bit peckish, and I think I just might fall off the wagon. Maybe an apology would help me curb my appetite.”

“We’re sorry,” said Eugene while Rick whimpered.

Chuckling, Quick shrank to his normal human size. “Still got it.” He helped the thugs get to their feet. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be watching Oprah.”

He offered Teri, Phil, and Bonnie a wink. They guessed it was meant to be reassuring, though it would’ve been more reassuring if he’d swallowed the thugs in two bites. He left the room instead.

All the mortals exchanged puzzled glances.

“Okay, then.” Eugene waved his gun in a generally threatening manner. “You can put your hands down.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Phil.

“Quiet!” growled Rick.

Eugene shot him a dirty look, and he shrugged.

“This is nothing personal,” said Eugene. “You seem like nice people. But Gorgoz says you’re supposed to die. And it’s a great chance to earn a few extra points of favor.”

“Pawns of the gods,” added Rick, “carrying on their petty feuds. And if we don’t do it, somebody else will. I know it’s not a great consolation, but the order came down, and we’re just trying to get a jump on this before someone else beats us to it.”

“Showing a little initiative.” Eugene pointed his gun at Teri.

“Wait!” Rick put his hand on his partner’s weapon and pushed it down. “Who is going to shoot who?”

“I thought we discussed this. There are two of them and two of us. We each get one. That’s the only fair way.”

“But what if one is worth more than the other?”

“Gorgoz wants them both dead.”

“But what if he wants one more dead than the other? I need more favor than you. I’m behind on my mortgage.”

Eugene said, “The order didn’t specify a preference.”

“What about that one?” Rick pointed at Bonnie. “Do we have to kill her?”

“I guess. She is a witness, after all. We’ll offer her up as a sacrifice to Gorgoz.”

“Who gets to do it?” asked Rick.

“You do, okay? Happy?”

Rick smiled. “Yes.”

Eugene rolled his eyes, raised his pistol, and cocked the hammer.

Phil stood and stepped between Eugene and his wife. “Kill me. But don’t shoot the women.”

“That’s some misogynistic bullshit.” Teri pushed him aside. “Kill me but let them go.”

“This isn’t a good time for feminism,” he replied.

“Says you.” She turned her eyes away from the guns trained on them. “You know how I feel about women and children first. It puts women in the same category as children. And I am not a child.”

“I wasn’t saying that. I was just trying to be noble.”

“Because it’s the man’s job to be noble,” she said, “and the woman’s job to-”

“Dammit, this is not the time to be having this discussion!”

Bonnie stood. “Shoot me. I’m the one who is going to die anyway. Might as well get it out of the way.”

“Excuse me,” said Eugene. “But this is an assassination, not a negotiation. You’re all going to get shot. There’s no way around that.”

“Although, for the record, miss,” said Rick, “I agree with you that it’s chauvinistic nonsense.”

Teri slapped Phil on the shoulder. “See?”

Rick’s cell rang, and he answered it. “Uh-huh. No, we haven’t done it yet. No. Okay, okay. You’re right. No, I haven’t forgotten about the mortgage. Yes, I take this seriously.”

Eugene cleared his throat loudly.

“Honey, I have to go.” Rick hung up. “She said the raccoon god just left that woman’s apartment. We better do this fast.”

Eugene pointed his gun again. Things were complicated by the three hostages each jostling to be in front of the bullet. He decided to just pull the trigger and let destiny pick the first victim.

His gun didn’t fire.

“What’s wrong?” asked Rick.

“It’s not working.”

“Is it jammed?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never used one of these before.”

“Try the slidey part on top. Isn’t that what they usually do in the movies?”

Eugene fiddled with his weapon. It made a loud clack, and he yelped as it pinched the flesh of his palm.

“Is the safety on?” asked Rick.

“No, the safety isn’t-”

The dining room echoed with the pop of a gunshot. Phil, Bonnie, and Teri checked themselves for holes. After a few seconds, everyone noticed a new hole in Rick’s thigh and a red stain spreading across his slacks. He, oddly, was the last to notice.

“Oh, shit. You shot me!” It was a needless observation. The kind only made by someone who had never been shot before, who expected to just keel over in agony when struck by a bullet, when it rarely worked that way. “You asshole, you shot me!”

“It was an accident!” shouted Eugene. “I told you we should’ve bought revolvers. And taken that course on gun safety.”

Rick leaned against the wall. “What kind of idiot points his gun at the one person in the room he doesn’t want to shoot? You shouldn’t need a class for that.” He gingerly pinched the wound. “Gods, I’m going to bleed to death now.”

“It doesn’t look so bad. Did the bullet hit the bone?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Did it feel like it hit the bone?”

“You want to know how it feels? It feels like some idiot shot me in the leg. That’s how it feels!” Rick started to slide down the wall.

Eugene moved to brace his partner. Without thinking, he jammed his pistol down the front of his pants. There was another pop of gunfire.

“Oh gods, oh gods!” He fell to his knees. The bullet had missed his groin by less than an inch. It had drilled a bloody trench in his leg and the flash had burned some highly sensitive areas.

“You gods-damned moron!” shouted Rick, too obsessed with his own wound to notice the hostages sneaking out of the dining room.

Quick lay across the sofa. “Hi, gang. Just in time for Family Feud.”

“You knew that would happen,” said Phil.

“This is the current residence of a god of good fortune and prosperity. Anyone who really understood the rules would know that trying to kill two of Lucky’s followers in the house where he hangs his hat would be a bad idea.”

Another gunshot echoed from the dining room, followed by more swearing.

“Sometimes initiative is a bad idea,” said Quick with a smile.