Divine Misfortune

21

Teri wasn’t any good at waiting. It had been one of the things Phil liked about her. While he had been trying to figure the best way to ask her out on their first date, she’d shown up at his dorm room with an order of Chinese food and a DVD of Logan’s Run. He hadn’t fallen in love with her at just that moment, but he had started down the path. Later, after he’d learned that she’d done some research to know that Chinese food and sci-fi were the key to his heart and that she didn’t like Chinese food or Michael York, Phil knew he’d end up marrying her. That was the way she was. She wasn’t the kind of person to wait around for someone else to do what she could do perfectly well on her own. Most of the time that worked in her favor.

Not today. They were marked for death by a mad god, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it except wait in their house and hope either Divine Affairs or Lucky solved the problem.

Teri read a book, watched some television, read another book, and did some light chores. She vacuumed. Twice. She washed the dishes by hand even though they had a dishwasher. And she dusted every nook and cranny. When she tried to go out in the backyard, Phil stopped her.

“Why? It should be part of the protective shrine, right? It’s part of the house.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe.”

“What’s going to happen? I’m going to get smote in my own backyard?”

“It could happen,” he said. “Maybe.”

She flopped down next to him on the couch.

“I hate this.”

“I know.”

“I really hate this.”

He put his arm around her. “I know.”

“We’re almost out of toilet paper,” she said.

“Maybe you could call Janet. She could bring us some.”

“I can’t do that. What if that puts her in danger?”

“It’s probably not dangerous, honey.”

“Then why didn’t you suggest any of your friends do it?”

“Janet is dating Lucky. It stands to reason that she’s already a bit of a target in this mess. And since she is dating a god of good fortune, I have to assume she’s well protected.”

“I hate it when you make sense when I’m pissed off.”

“I know you do. That’s why I try not to make it a habit.”

She kissed him, tousled his hair. Then went and made the phone call.

Janet arrived two hours later with several bags of supplies. She had to unload them all from her car herself since Teri and Phil couldn’t safely step beyond the threshold of their front door. Teri and Janet unpacked the groceries. Phil stayed in the living room, playing video games. He would’ve helped, but he knew Teri needed time to vent.

“Ta-da.” Janet made a sweeping supermodel gesture at a brand-new twenty-four-pack of toilet paper.

“Damn,” said Teri, “just how long do you think we’re going to be stuck in here?”

“I just assumed better safe than sorry.”

“Jeez, there has to be three cubic feet of Hot Pockets here.”

“Sorry about that,” said Janet. “But I wasn’t really sure if you liked to cook or not. So how are you holding up?”

“How do you think I’m holding up? Your boyfriend totally screwed us over.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” said Janet.

“He’s not? Then I suppose that necklace is just something you had laying around.”

Janet ran her fingers over the raccoon-headed emblem. “Okay, so maybe he’s more than just a fling. But I wouldn’t go so far as to call him my boyfriend.”

Teri smirked. “If that makes you feel better.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“What do you think I mean by that?” Teri opened the freezer and began theorizing on the complex geometric principles necessary to fit all the frozen meals in the limited space available.

“Oh, no,” said Janet. “You don’t get away with that. Not when I risked life and limb to bring you the creature comforts.”

Teri, wryly grinning, withdrew a jar of spaghetti sauce from a bag. It would’ve been nicer if Janet had remembered to bring some spaghetti to go with it.

“I’m a terrible bomb shelter shopper. I admit it. Happy?” said Janet. “But you’ve been against me dating your god from the start. So why are you acting all smug about it now?”

Teri extracted a tinfoil lump from the freezer. She couldn’t remember what it was, though it didn’t smell quite right. Like year-old meatloaf or halibut gone bad or maybe stale melted plastic. She pondered peeling back the foil and revealing the mystery, but decided her sanity wasn’t in a state for any more surprises. She threw it in the garbage.

“Go ahead,” said Janet.

The mystery foil had derailed Teri’s train of thought. It took her a few seconds to catch up to the conversation.

“You’re just dying to tell me I told you so,” said Janet. “So do it already.”

Teri laughed. “Damn, you really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“I was wrong,” said Teri, “about you and Lucky.”

“You’re saying it’s a good idea now?”

“Oh, hell, no. Terrible idea. Horrible idea. Gods and mortals should not date. That’s just obvious.”

Teri paused, holding up a six-pack of off-brand banana-and-chocolate soda pop.

“It’s delicious,” said Janet.

“Then you take it.”

“Maybe I will.” Janet grabbed the pack, peeled off a can, and popped it open. After taking a sip, she calmly walked over to the sink and spit it out. She stuck her tongue under the running faucet. “Well, it sounded good. But I just thought it was worth trying.” She stuck out her tongue. “Got any crackers?”

“Uh-hmm.” Teri smirked again.

“You don’t wear smug well,” said Janet.

“I think you wear everything well, honey,” said Phil as he entered the kitchen.

“Thank you, baby. Here, have a Hot Pocket.”

“You’re too good to me,” he said.

“I know.”

Janet and Teri put the conversation on hold until Phil had zapped his snack in the microwave and returned to the living room.

“Lucky is banana-and-chocolate soda,” explained Teri. “Or at least, he was supposed to be.”

“I hate metaphors,” said Janet.

“Too bad. Because you’re going to have to listen to this one.” Teri took the remaining five cans of soda and put them in front of Janet. “This is what you do. Pop open a banana-and- chocolate soda. Sure. Why not? Maybe you’ll love it. Maybe not, but hey, let’s give it a shot. What do you have to lose?”

“You’re losing me.”

“No interruptions, please.” Teri pushed the cans forward. “But here’s the thing. Maybe you kind of like the soda because it’s new and different and at least you can say you had the experience. But, ultimately, you know that banana-and-chocolate soda isn’t going to become your favorite soft drink. Even if you drink the entire six-pack, the odds you’ll ever buy another six-pack are minuscule. And that’s assuming that they’ll even keep making the soda, which is highly unlikely also.

“Dating gods is just the same. It’s a new experience, good for a story and a chuckle. But you don’t plan on doing anything more. And if by some chance you do develop some feelings, you know the god will take off before it gets serious.”

“Commitment issues? That’s your deep metaphorical insight? Hell, I could’ve told you that.”

“Ah, but here’s the catch,” said Teri. “Sometimes, even when you don’t mean to, even when you do your best to avoid it, you end up liking the banana-and-chocolate soda. A lot. And the soda likes you back. A lot. And then, before you know it, even when you didn’t want it, you find yourself looking forward to cracking open your favorite soda. And worrying about if they ever stop making it.”

“Can we ditch the metaphor at this point?”

“Okay, but you know I’m right.”

Janet glowered. “Okay, so maybe you’re right. So what?”

“So… nothing. Just an observation. Just so you know, I think Lucky really does like you a lot. And not just in that divine-infatuation way.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

Janet smiled, then frowned, then smiled. “Crap.”

“Welcome to a relationship,” said Teri. “Whether you like it or not.”

“You don’t have to be so happy about it.”

“Sorry. I just think it’s funny, that’s all.”

“So what am I supposed to do now? I’ve never really been in a… well, one of these things. Not even with a mortal.”

“Play it by ear,” said Teri. “That’s how everybody else does it.”

“And doesn’t that usually screw everything up?”

“Usually.”

Janet ran her fingers along her necklace and slouched. Crap.

Someone cleared his throat. It was Lucky. He stood on the table. Actually, he hovered a few inches over it, in a transparent projected form.

“Help me, Obi-Wan. You’re my only hope.”

The hologram chuckled.

“Sorry, I just always wanted to do that. Just thought I’d check in. Quick and I are lost in the collective unconscious right now. But we’ve got it figured out. A singing taco drew us a map on the back of a napkin.”

He cocked his head to one side and listened to a voice only he could hear.

“No, Quick, that’s not a turn. That’s just when the pen slipped. Remember?” He scratched his head and turned his attention back toward Teri and Janet. “So it might take a while longer than anticipated, but we’ll get out eventually. Just hang in there, kids. We’re on it. Quick says hi by the way.”

He started to fade.

“How long were you standing there?” asked Janet.

“Technically, I’m not standing here,” he replied. “I’m just projecting.”

“How long?”

“Not long.” He looked a little embarrassed, but that could’ve been her imagination.

The doorbell rang. Teri answered it.

“Hello,” said the stooped, withered old man. “Have you considered the value of changing your religion?”

“About once every three minutes,” she said.

“Close the door,” said Lucky’s projection. “Close it now, Teri.”

The man stuck his foot in the doorjamb, to keep her from getting the door shut. His shoes sizzled and burned with a sulfurous, yellow smoke. He didn’t seem to mind. With one thin arm, he threw the door open, knocking Teri into Phil’s arms.

“You can’t enter here,” said Lucky. “This is my temple.”

Gorgoz’s mortal disguise cracked. He grinned, revealing crooked and misshapen teeth. He stepped across the threshold, and immediately burst into flames. He took three more steps before collapsing in a heap of blackened bones.

“You have to get out of here,” said Lucky. “Right now.”

The skeleton raised his skull. “Oh, but we were just getting acquainted. What’s the rush?” He stood. By the time he was back on his feet, his flesh and suit had re-formed. His liver spots had doubled in size, and his skin had turned a mottled puke green. And his eyes were two bloodshot orbs. He still smoldered, but the rate of regeneration had equalized, evening things out. The smell of burning flesh, along with his natural rotten-fish odor, was nauseating.

“I’m warning you,” said Lucky, “if you harm one hair on these mortals’ heads-”

“You’ll what? Hmmm. You’ll what? You’re not even here. And even if you were, you couldn’t stop me. Your favor is as worthless as the rest of the pathetic gods, shackled by the rules and regulations you’ve surrendered to. So why don’t you do us all a favor and shut up? I’m trying to have a civilized conversation here.”

The mortals eyed all the possible exits. Gorgoz snapped his fingers, and every door and window closed and locked. And for that extra touch, he materialized various venomous serpents to guard them. Except for the front door, where he placed a two-headed mutant beast, something between a bear and a shark. The malformed creature was awkward, more likely to roll over people trying to exit than actually bite them. But that would have been just as fatal.

A cloud of buzzing locusts covered every window of the house, allowing just enough sunlight to keep the interior in shadowy twilight.

“It’ll be okay,” said Lucky. “Everything will be okay.”

Gorgoz rolled his eyes. Considering the size of them, it was quite a feat. He waved his hand at Lucky. The projection faded away.

“He won’t be bothering us for a while.” Gorgoz gestured toward the sofa. “Have a seat.”

The mortals hesitated.

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead by now. Well, probably not by now. But you’d be on your way to dead, and you’d know it.” He tried to smile pleasantly, but it only came across as hungry and menacing, the best he could manage.

They sat. Gorgoz took a seat in the chair beside the sofa. His charred form blackened the upholstery. Claws had sprung from his fingertips and a touch of slime dripped from his pores.

“Never really was very good at the mortal-disguise business.”

In a flash, he sat before them in his true form, a seven-foot-tall, lanky god wrapped in a tattered bathrobe.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re not dead yet.”

They nodded.

“Oh, sure. I could kill you right now. Allow your useless god to project and then slay you right in front of him. And yes, it would be worth a laugh.”

He gazed dreamily into the distance and smiled wistfully.

“No, no. Everyone keeps insisting this is a more civilized age. And I can play along. Sure, I can. Rather than kill you, I’ve decided to show you that even I can be… reasonable.”

He leaned forward and interlaced his fingers.

“How would you like to renounce your god and take me on as your new lord and master? Hmmm? Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

An awkward moment of silence filled the room.

“Oh, don’t all speak up all at once.” Gorgoz heaved a sigh. “I get it. You are all”-he made air quotes-” nice people. You’re not the kinds of mortals to normally sign up with a god of chaos and death. And normally, such as you are beneath my notice. But I’m adaptable. And I want you to join my team.”

There was another quiet moment.

“Any questions?” asked Gorgoz. “Any questions at all? I promise I won’t bite your heads off.” He leaned back and studied his claws. “I usually like to start with the limbs.”

Janet said, “Why us?”

“A fair question. And I’ll give you an honest answer. I’ve killed or had killed a few hundred of Lucky’s followers over the centuries. And I could devour you all now, and it would amuse me. But I came upon an idea that would amuse me more. Why slay you when I can steal you away?

“I know what you’re thinking. What’s the catch? What do you have to do to convince me of your sincerity? And here’s the best part.” Gorgoz cleared his throat and smiled. “All I’m asking in return is absolutely nothing. That’s right. Not a drop of spilled blood or a single dime. Not a prayer or an inconvenient, arbitrary behavioral inhibition. Not a single act of tribute. You won’t have to do a thing different than how you’re living your life now and in return, you shall have my favor. Your enemies shall perish. Wealth will fall into your laps. And every desire you could ever ask for will be yours until your weak mortal bodies finally succumb to their inevitable frailty. And all you have to do is renounce your god and proclaim me as your new lord.”

Gorgoz spread his hands, palms out, in a wide, welcoming gesture. His toothy grin was anything but reassuring.

“Oh, I know what’s going through your troubled mortal minds. How can you possibly trust me? To which I reply…”

He threw back his head and cackled.

“You can’t. I could be lying. I most probably am. This could all be some twisted game I’m playing where I’m just trying to screw with Lucky by getting you to abandon him. Then I’ll devour you anyway because… well, I’d be lying if I didn’t say it sounded like it would be worth a giggle. But all of that is hardly relevant. What should allow you to make this decision, all you truly need to know, is that you don’t really have a choice. It’s the slim hope that I’ll keep my word versus the absolute certainty that I will kill you if you refuse.”

A clap of thunder rattled the house.

“Ah, excellent. My demonstration has arrived. Come along. You must see this. I think you’ll find it enlightening.”

The locusts flew away. The vipers disappeared. And the shark/bear creature lumbered to one side as Gorgoz exited the front door. Several Divine Affairs automobiles had blocked off the street. The agents stood at the ready. One of them shouted into a megaphone.

“Gorgoz, you are instructed to surrender for disciplinary action.”

“I was hoping they’d be watching,” said Gorgoz with a smile.

Thick clouds roiled overhead. A bolt of lightning struck the front yard and a tall, broad-shouldered, redheaded god stood in its wake.

“Thor,” remarked Gorgoz, “how long has it been?”

“Not nearly long enough,” replied Thor.

The clouds churned, swirling into a funnel that touched down beside the god of thunder. A red-faced deity with the face of a leopard stepped from the howling winds. He carried a bag over his shoulder.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure,” said Gorgoz.

“Fujin!” When the deity spoke, a gale blasted from his lungs, stripping the leaves from a tree and then uprooting it. He covered his mouth and winced. “Sorry!”

Fujin’s shadow stretched out from his feet and expanded to three dimensions. This god was a living darkness.

Gorgoz scowled. “Oh, Og, don’t tell me they tamed you, too?”

“Times have changed,” said Ogbunabali. “We’ve come to see that you finally change with them.”

“This is what it’s come to?” asked Gorgoz. “We’re not only allowing mortals to skitter about unchallenged, we’re even enforcing their rules?”

“It’s not like that,” said Thor, unbuttoning his double-breasted suit. He pulled out his hammer, a massive weapon that crackled with electricity. “We don’t boss the mortals around, and they don’t boss us. It’s a partnership. It always has been.”

“Some of us just figured it out sooner than others!” shouted Fujin, stripping half the grass off the lawn.

“It doesn’t have to go down like this,” said Ogbunabali.

“No, it doesn’t,” replied Gorgoz. “Join me. It’s time for us to rise up and show these-”

“Enough talk.” Thor hurled his hammer. It collided with Gorgoz, knocking him off his feet. The hammer swerved upward, carrying Gorgoz with it. It soared upward a mile, reversed, then came crashing to earth, all within the blink of an eye. Gorgoz was driven into the ground with a deafening thunderclap. The shock wave knocked several cars over. Underground pipes burst, spewing geysers into the air.

The gods advanced on the smoking crater in the front lawn.

“That was a little much, don’t you think?” asked Og.

“He wanted to do it the hard way,” said Thor.

The ground rumbled. Coughing, Gorgoz climbed up to the pit’s edge. Half of his teeth were missing, and he spit up a glob of black slime.

“Not bad, not bad. Nice to see you have a little fight left in you.

“Do yourself a favor and stay down, Gorg. I don’t relish beating the snot out of you.” Thor raised his hammer. “Maybe I relish it a little.”

He brought it down on Gorgoz’s skull. Or tried to. But Gorgoz caught Thor’s wrist. The gods struggled for a moment, and then, with a grin and a twist, Gorgoz forced Thor to his knees.

Gorgoz wrenched the hammer free, grabbed Thor by the throat, and with a whirl like a discus thrower, hurled the god of thunder into the atmosphere.

“I was aiming for Australia,” said Gorgoz, “but I think I overshot.”

He released the hammer quivering in his grasp. It shot into the sky, chasing after its owner.

Fujin opened his bag of winds. They swept Gorgoz in a screaming vortex, shredding his robes and freezing his flesh. The temperature dropped. Frost formed on everything, killing all the nearby plants. Gorgoz was pulled into Fujin’s bag. The lord of winds threw it down on the ground and started kicking it.

He stopped mid-kick as Ogbunabali watched with disapproval.

“It’s not fancy!” said Fujin. “But it gets the job done!”

The shadowy death god joined Fujin in a fresh round of kicks and punches. They kept at it until Gorgoz’s shouts died down. The bag still rustled and wriggled, but no more than was expected with the winds trapped inside.

“That was easier than I expected,” said Og.

“I knew he was all talk!” roared Fujin.

Gorgoz’s claw tore through the sack. He shredded it, freeing himself and the winds. They howled, slipping from Fujin’s efforts to recapture them. One picked up a car and smashed it into a house across the street. Another tore off the sidewalk and playfully set it down in a giant stack that promptly fell over onto several Affairs agents.

Fujin ran after the rogue zephyrs. He bellowed orders that the winds ignored as they worked their way down the street, wreaking gleeful havoc.

“Go ahead, Og,” said Gorgoz. “Take your shot.”

Ogbunabali stepped back. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

Gorgoz adjusted his robe and shook his head. “What’s happened to you? Mortals used to shit their pants at your name. I remember when you slaughtered whole villages just because you were bored.

“These mortals have robbed you of all your power, Og. I, on the other hand, have been supping on a steady diet of greed, avarice, cruelty, and human sacrifice.” Gorgoz chuckled. “I especially love the human sacrifice.”

Ogbunabali said, “You know that this can’t end well. You don’t think you can stand against the hosts of the heavens.”

“I did pretty well this time, didn’t I?”

“We underestimated you. It won’t happen again.”

“No.” Gorgoz chuckled. “It won’t.”

He walked back toward the house. When his back was to Ogbunabali, Og drew a scimitar of darkness from his own shadowy form.

Gorgoz didn’t bother to turn around. “I wouldn’t, if I were you.”

Og rethought his course of action. He set aside his weapon and checked on the agents.

“I trust I’ve made my point,” said Gorgoz to Teri, Phil, and Janet. “There is no one in this world or beyond who can stop me from destroying you. I’ll give you some time to think about it. But when next we meet, I’ll expect an answer.” He threw off his robe, revealing himself as a giant, spotted, skeletal dragon. He spread his skeletal wings and rose in the air.

“Be seeing you.”

With one powerful flap, he shot skyward. The air reverberated with a shrill scream. He was gone in an instant. His various beasts vanished in clouds of acrid smoke, leaving a stench behind.

Lucky’s projection rematerialized.

“Oh thank me, you kids are still okay,” he said. He took in the destruction around the neighborhood, the uprooted trees and mortals in disarray, the crater in the lawn and the broken street. A mischievous gust twirled an upended automobile like a top.

“Stop that right now and get back here!” shouted Fujin as he chased after it.

Teri, Phil, and Janet went back into the house and stood around the living room. No one said a word. They didn’t even look at each other. Phil gave Teri a hug, but it was a fragile, uncertain gesture.