Divine Misfortune (2010) (2 page)

They ran through dozens more. Teri found a reason to disqualify most of them, and the few she did approve of didn’t suit Phil.
Choosing a god wasn’t as simple as he’d first thought. All the really useful gods were in high demand, and they knew it. And
the more powerful a deity, the more demanded of his followers. You had to pass a credit check to merely look at Zeus’s profile,
and Tyr demanded you cut off one of your hands as a show of devotion if you wanted full benefits. And that was if you were
even accepted in the first place. Some gods wanted blood. Others wanted money. Most wanted blood and money. But there were
other costs. Vows of silence, poverty, chastity, ruthlessness, and so on. There was always a price, even for the most minor
and inconsequential of divine favors, and Phil and Teri found they weren’t usually willing to pay it.

He sat back and rubbed his eyes. He was about to suggest that they just abandon their quest when Teri chimed in.

“This one looks interesting. Luka, god of prosperity and good fortune.”

“He has a raccoon head,” remarked Phil. “I thought you didn’t want one with an animal head.”

“No, I didn’t want one with a jackal head. I can live with a raccoon head.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Raccoons are cute.”

“Raccoons are vermin,” he countered. “And they can carry disease.”

She glared at him, and he realized he didn’t know why he was arguing. Aside from the odd head, Luka stood tall, lean, and
proud. He wore long rainbow-colored robes and had a Chinese-style hat on. Phil didn’t know the name for it, but it was one
of those hats that the emperor’s advisers always wore in the kung fu movies. Luka’s hands were tucked into his loose sleeves,
and he was smiling. Many of the lesser gods they’d seen today had been smiling, too. But there had been a quiet desperation
hidden underneath, a neediness that Phil had found off-putting. Luka’s smile seemed genuine.

She clicked the
PLAY
button for his video.

“Is it on?” Luka looked over the camera. “It is? It’s on? Cool.” He smoothed his robes and adjusted his hat. “Hi, I’m Luka,
god of prosperity and good fortune. I… uh… what am I supposed to say?”

Someone offscreen mumbled a reply.

“I really hate these things.” Luka frowned. “Let’s be honest here. You don’t care about what I like or don’t. You just want
to know what I can give you and what I want in return. I’ve seen better days. Kind of ironic, considering I’m a god of luck.”
He chuckled. “All I really need is a fresh start, and maybe that’s all you need, too. I don’t need your blood. None of that
animal sacrifice nonsense. You won’t have to mutilate yourself or promise to wear your shoes backward or leave the lid off
your trash can. And I’ll admit that I won’t change your life in any big way. Not my thing. I’m more of a serendipity specialist,
but the world can turn on a moment, and that’s where I come in. You won’t become king of the universe or be loved by everyone
or a super sex god. But if you allow me into your heart and hearth, all I ask for in return is a percentage of the good I
help you attain. Say… ten percent? I could maybe go as low as eight. But that’s my bottom line.”

He bowed and stared at the camera for a few seconds.

“Is it still on? Should I say some—”

The video ended.

“I like him,” said Teri.

So did Phil. Most gods were too… godly. So full of themselves. Even the lesser ones had an aura of entitlement, as if you
were lucky to have them. But this one seemed different. Luka was regal but relaxed. He seemed refreshingly down-to-earth.

They read the whole profile just to be sure what they were getting into. No blood offerings, weird rituals, or big demands.
Just a standard “welcoming into the home” arrangement. They’d expected that. They’d already picked out the corner where they
would stick their new idol.

“I think he’s perfect,” said Teri.

Phil was happy to discover a choice he and his wife agreed on. He was also overjoyed that it was finally done. He didn’t feel
like scrolling through any more profiles. The site said that Luka was ready, and they met his minimum qualifications. Approval
was just a click away.

They pricked their fingers with a needle and prepared to click on the
ACCEPT
button together.

She studied the blood on her fingertip. “This better not screw up my mouse.”

They clicked the button together. Teri retrieved some paper towels to wipe off the red stain. They spent a few more minutes
filling out consent forms and double- and triple-clicking confirmation buttons. With the establishment of the Court of Divine
Affairs, worship had become much more paperwork-intensive.

“Do we have to go pick up the idol ourselves?” she asked. “Or do they drop it off as part of the service?”

The doorbell rang.

They answered it together.

A small mound of rainbow-colored luggage occupied their porch. On top of it sat a raccoon in an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt
and denim shorts. He wore sunglasses, even though it was night.

“You must be Phil and Teri, right?”

They nodded.

The raccoon hopped up, put his hands on his hips, and struck a dramatic pose. “Behold your new god. Luka, lord of prosperity
and good fortune.”

He lowered his sunglasses to the end of his nose and smiled.

“Where should I put my stuff?”

“Nice digs,” said Luka as he pushed his way past Phil and Teri. “Not exactly the palace of the High Magistrate of Atlantis,
but beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

“You’re Luka?” asked Teri.

“The one and only. And, please, call me Lucky.” He tucked his sunglasses into his pocket and imitated a gun with his finger,
once at each of them. “Anything to drink? I just descended from the heavens and could really use some juice.”

“We have soda,” said Teri. “Sorry, no juice.”

“I’ll take a Coke, thanks.”

She went into the kitchen. Awkward silence filled the room. Phil didn’t look directly at Lucky. Then he felt weird about it,
so he made eye contact with his new god. Lucky winked.

Teri returned. “All we had was Dr. Pepper.”

“That’ll do.” He chugged the entire beverage in one long drink. “So do I throw this away or do you recycle?”

Teri took the can and went back to the kitchen. She didn’t return right away, leaving Phil and Lucky to stare at each other
some more.

“Something wrong, Phil?” asked Lucky.

“No, no,” Phil replied quickly. “I mean, no, not really. It’s just…

“It’s just you thought I’d be taller.”

Phil nodded.

“Like this.” Lucky transformed into the more traditional figure seen in the video. Human in proportion, though the head remained
the same. “This is for show. Helps to get people’s attention. But it’s not how I always look. Do you think Hermes always wears
the winged sandals? Or that Osiris keeps that falcon head on all the time?”

“It’s not his real head?”

“Naw. He just wears it to hide his bald spot. You didn’t hear that from me. We’re gods. Our bodies are like your clothes.
They’re largely a matter of personal preference.” He transformed back into his smaller, more casual form. “I’m just more comfortable
this way. If it’s all the same to you. Not going to be a problem, is it?”

Phil shook his head.

“Cool. So where’s your bathroom?”

Phil pointed down the hall.

“Thanks. Be right back. What are we having for dinner tonight? I have a hankering for tacos.”

He shut the door behind him.

Teri dared to venture from the kitchen. “Did he leave?”

“He’s in the bathroom,” said Phil.

“Gods use the bathroom?” asked Teri.

“Maybe he wants to wash his hands. I think raccoons like to do that.”

“But he’s not really a raccoon, is he?”

Phil lowered his voice, afraid Lucky might hear them. “I don’t think so, but maybe he has some of their tendencies while in
that form.”

The toilet flushed. They heard the water in the sink run, and Phil elbowed Teri to point out that he was right about the hand-washing.

Lucky came out, drying his hands on his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and tonight feels more like a burger night. But I’m open.”

He took a seat on the couch and used the remote to turn on the television. “Aw, shoot. This isn’t high-def, is it?”

“No,” said Phil. “We’re sorry, uh, Master.”

“How many channels do you get?”

Phil and Teri each waited for the other to answer the question.

“I’m not really sure,” Phil finally said.

“You’ve got premium, right?” asked Lucky.

Phil hesitated. “It’s just basic.”

“Aw, crud,” said Lucky.

“Our apologies… Master.”

“Will you cut out that master stuff? It’s Lucky. Just Lucky. It’s not your fault. It’s that damn matchmaking service. You’d
think with all the forms you have to fill out they’d have a space for cable package somewhere, right? It’s not ideal, but
I can live with it. Maybe your next paycheck you might consider getting an upgrade. I’m not trying to impose or anything,
but a nice, upstanding American couple like yourselves can really do better than basic cable. Still, as long as we’ve got
Oxygen and Discovery, I guess I’m good.”

He flipped through the channels too rapidly to even see what was on.

“How are those burgers coming along, kids?”

“I don’t think we have everything we need here,” said Phil.

“Well, they have these great new things called grocery stores. Very handy. Or, if you prefer, you can swing through a drive-through.
I’ll take a Big Mac and a cherry pie. But before you go, we should probably get my stuff inside first. Where’s my room?”

“Room?” repeated Teri.

“Don’t tell me. No room. Disappointing, but heck, I don’t mind crashing on the couch.”

“Excuse me,” said Teri, “but you want to move in?”

“You bet.”

“Here?”

Lucky nodded.

“In our house?”

Lucky muted the television. “Let’s get down to brass tacks, shall we? I’m not one of those gods who sits up high on his mountain
and looks down upon his followers like interchangeable minions. I’m more hands-on. Quality not quantity, that’s my motto.
And I have a good feeling about you two. I’m not just in this for myself. Sure, when you guys do better, the divine karmic
feedback loop means that I do better. But that’s just a fringe benefit. I want you to be happy, and the only way I can feel
comfortable doing that is to be down here, in the trenches, with you fine folks.”

Phil and Teri smiled weakly.

“I know, I know,” said Lucky. “Too good to be true, isn’t it?”

“Would you excuse us for a moment?” asked Teri.

“Sure. I’ll just grab something to nosh on until dinner, if that’s all right with you?”

“Please, help yourself.”

They kept their feeble smiles until Lucky went to the kitchen.

“He can’t stay here,” Teri harshly whispered.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” said Phil. “We agreed to allow him into our home.”

“But I thought that meant an altar or an idol or something like that. Isn’t that normally how it works? Your parents had a
god, right? You should know.”

“There was an idol. Once a month, they sacrificed a dove to it, I think.”

She glared.

“What? They didn’t involve me in it. It was only a minor pact with a minor god. Just something to keep the house from needing
repairs.”

“I don’t want him in my house,” she said. “You have to tell him.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because it was your idea to do this.”

Phil said, “But when I changed my mind, you’re the one who said we should do it. Remember the cat? The freakin’ miracle cat?”

“I wouldn’t have had a miracle cat if you hadn’t put the idea in my head in the first place.”

“We both accepted the deal,” said Phil. “We can’t just tell him to leave. It could be dangerous. One month, my dad decided
it wouldn’t hurt anything to put off a sacrifice by a day. By next week, the house was infested with termites, the plumbing
backed up, the fireplace started belching sulfur into the living room, and all the carpet became moist and moldy.”

“But he’s a luck god, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Did I mention the dead rats that filled the attic crawl space?”

Teri bit her lip. “You’re right. I just wasn’t expecting this.”

“He’s not very big,” said Phil, “and he seems nice.”

Lucky came back in, chewing on a cold chicken leg. He’d stripped off most of the flesh and was gnawing on the bone. “Is there
a problem, gang?”

Phil and Teri waited for the other to say something first.

“Can we cut the crap?” asked Lucky. “Let’s be honest, shall we? I’m sensing some reluctance on your part. You were looking
for a heavenly benefactor, not a roommate. And now you’re having second thoughts.”

They nodded.

Lucky transformed in a flash into a hulking raccoon monster, as big as a bull, with slavering jaws, fearsome tusks, and burning
red eyes.

“Blasphemers!” He stomped his feet with a crack of thunder. “Thou hast rejected thy god and roused mine righteous fury.” He
roared, blasting them with his hot breath and divine saliva. “Prepare thyselves for the Hell of Great, Nibbly Agonies and
an eternity of great and… uh… nibbly…” Lucky’s burning eyes furrowed.

“Agonies,” finished Phil timidly.

He changed back into his raccoon form and winked.

“You got moxie, kids.”

“You aren’t going to smite us?” asked Phil.

“No, I was just having some fun. You should’ve seen your faces. Half-fear, half-confusion. It was like one part of you was
afraid for your life and the other couldn’t believe you were about to be eaten by a giant raccoon.” He chuckled. “Priceless.”

He grabbed the chicken bone, picked off the carpet fuzz, and sucked on it.

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on any smiting, though it is well within my rights. But I’m not that kind of god. Never was a casual
smiter. Sure, I’ve smote a few mortals in my day. I’m not proud of it, but it was back in the old days. Everyone was doing
it, and I just wanted to be cool. But I’m past that sort of heavy-handed disciplinary action. It’s good for a laugh occasionally,
but I don’t want to be your god because you’re afraid of me. I want us to be buddies, compadres. Heck, we’re practically family.