Divine Misfortune (2010) (24 page)

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.

Teri and Phil didn’t talk about it.

Janet left. They didn’t ask where she was going. They spoke with several agents. They couldn’t recall the details of the conversation
other than some vague reassurances that Divine Affairs was “on top of the situation” and that everything “would be resolved
shortly.” Then the agents left, too.

And Teri and Phil, very deliberately, didn’t talk about it. They didn’t talk about Lucky, still lost somewhere in the collective
unconscious. They didn’t talk about the wreckage just outside their front door. They didn’t talk about Gorgoz’s offer. They
exchanged maybe twenty words over the next few hours on no topic more uncomfortable than their favorite flavor of Hot Pockets.
They were watching television when Phil finally dared to say something.

“We can’t take the offer,” he said.

“I know,” she replied.

Another twenty minutes passed without another uttered word. They even had the TV on mute. They watched the actors go about
their business without really caring.

“We can’t take it,” Teri said.

“I know,” he agreed. He paused. “We can’t.”

This was how it went for another two hours. One of them would remark that they couldn’t take Gorgoz’s offer, and the other
would agree. But there would be a pause between the first observation and the second. And it would be longer every time.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “This is all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s mine.”

“If I hadn’t brought it up in the first place…”

“Yes, but if I hadn’t changed my mind…”

“You’re right,” he said with a forced smile. “It is your fault.”

She wanted to laugh, but snorted. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

He kissed her forehead.

“We’re screwed, baby.”

“Yeah,” she said. “We’re screwed. We can’t take the offer.”

“No, we can’t. We can’t trust him to hold up his end of the deal. He even admitted it.”

“Even if he did,” said Teri, “I couldn’t live with myself. Any favor we’d get from him would’ve been paid for by someone else’s
blood. Somewhere.”

The favor of Gorgoz didn’t come without a price. He was a god of death and chaos, and there had to be consequences to taking
him on. Things they couldn’t conceive of. Gods were a deceptive bunch. Lucky had lied by omission, but at least he hadn’t
been out to screw them. Not like Gorgoz most likely was.

Teri went to the bathroom.

Phil paced around the coffee table a few times.

“Damn.”

He ran outside before he could think too much about this.

“I know you’re out here!” he shouted. “I know you’re watching! Show yourself!”

A red spotted pigeon with blue eyes settled on the uprooted tree on Phil’s lawn.

“No need to shout,” the bird said with Gorgoz’s voice. “So have you come to a decision?”

“It’s a deal,” Phil said, “but only for me.”

The pigeon cackled. “Lovely. Selling out your friends to spare yourself. How delightfully self-serving. You’ll go far in my
organization.”

“No,” said Phil. “You take me, but you leave them out of this. You leave them alone, never bother them again.”

The pigeon cocked its head and fluffed up its breast. “You dare dictate terms to me?”

“None of this is their fault. This is all because of me. We wouldn’t even know Lucky if I hadn’t brought this up in the first
place. I started this. I have to finish it.”

“How noble.” The pigeon took a moment to preen its wings. “You’re an eager and shortsighted mortal, Mr. Robinson. I like that
in a follower.”

Phil glanced at the front door. He couldn’t have much time left.

“Do we have a deal then?” asked Phil.

Teri opened the front door. “What are you doing out here?”

“Do we have a deal?”

The pigeon chuckled. “We have a deal.”

A tremor shook the earth as the pigeon grew into a giant bat.

“Oh no,” said Teri. “What did you do, Phil? What did you do, you idiot?”

The bat folded its wings around Phil.

“Everything will be okay now,” said Phil.

“You son of a bitch,” she said. “Don’t you dare pull that noble sacrifice bullshit!”

The bat launched itself into the sky, leaving the cold chuckle of Gorgoz hanging over the backyard for a long time.

By the time Lucky and Quick managed to navigate their way out of the collective unconscious, it was early morning. They floated
in Lucky’s globe of flying light and landed on the front porch of Phil and Teri’s house. Neither god remarked on the destruction
in the neighborhood or the dirty looks the mortals threw their way.

“Hey, kids,” said Lucky as he threw open the door. “Great news! I think we finally have a handle on this thing.”

The living room was in disarray. Several boxes had been brought in and torn open, their contents spilled across the floor.
Old photos and random scraps of paper, stuffed animals, and other odds and ends occupied most of the space around the couch
and coffee table.

Teri was curled up on the couch, snoring.

“Has she been drinking?” asked Quick.

Lucky righted the bottle of scotch tipped over on the coffee table. Half the scotch was spilled in a puddle on the carpet.

“Teri, Teri.” Lucky shook her gently. “Wake up. It’s okay now. I’m back.”

She opened her eyes halfway and dimly focused on him.

“This is all your fault,” she mumbled.

“I know, and I’m going to fix it.”

She laughed uncontrollably. “Fix it? Fix it! You can’t fix anything!” Her laughter turned desperate, almost delirious, as
tears ran down her face. “You’re the god of prosperity. How could you have screwed it all up so completely?”

“I know you’re upset but there’s no need to get personal.”

“He’s gone! Phil’s gone! And it’s all your fault!”

She pushed Lucky away and turned her back to him.

“Go away. You can’t do anything else to us.”

“I’m sure he’ll come back,” said Lucky. “Mortals can be rash, but I’m sure he’ll realize how much he loves you.”

Quick shoved Lucky aside. “Geez, you are an insensitive idiot sometimes.”

“I was trying to be comforting.”

“You really don’t know these people at all. Phil isn’t the kind of guy to run off like this. He’s not that selfish. He’s also
not that stupid. He knows that wherever he runs, Gorgoz would still find him.”

“He took the deal,” said Teri, mumbling into the sofa cushions. “That goddamn moron took Gorgoz’s deal. I should’ve known.”
She rolled over and stared at the ceiling. “He always was a sexist bastard, opening doors and paying for dates. That should’ve
been my first clue. I bet he couldn’t wait to do his alpha male protector bit when he finally had the chance. What does he
think I am? A helpless princess who can’t fend for herself? It’s insulting.”

“I’m sure he meant well,” said Lucky.

“What an asshole,” she grumbled.

“Who?” asked Lucky. “Me or Phil?”

“Maybe you should get something to eat,” said Quick, “while Teri and I sort through the details.”

“I’m not really hungry.”

Quick made a sharp pointing gesture toward the kitchen.

“Fine. I guess I could eat a sandwich. Hey, Teri, we don’t have any bologna, do we?”

Quick repeated the gesture.

“Never mind. I’m sure I’ll find something,” Lucky mumbled as he left the room. “Like not answering a simple bologna question
will bring back Phil. I swear, these mortals are so egocentric.”

“Want to talk about it?” asked Quick.

“What’s left to talk about?” She sat up and made a feeble effort to fix her frazzled hair. “And why would I want to talk to
you about it? You’re just as bad as any of them.”

“Maybe.” He coiled beside her and put a wing around her shoulder. “I’m not perfect. None of us are. All we can do is try,
right? And hope we don’t screw things up too badly.”

“Why bother? If it’s all going to go wrong anyway, why even try?” She grabbed the scotch bottle and swirled the little bit
that was left before drinking.

She leaned into Quick. He wrapped his feathers around her. “Where did you find that?”

“Cupboard. Didn’t even know it was in there.” She laughed bitterly. “Lucky break, huh?”

“Maybe we try because what’s the point in not trying? Just sitting around, thinking about ourselves all the time, it doesn’t
work out either. Trust me. I learned that the hard way. So if we’re going to screw it up, we might as well screw it up with
good intentions rather than bad.”

She cried in the serpent god’s embrace. Her tears glittered off his rainbow scales.

“Want some coffee?” he asked.

“I don’t want anything.”

“A little caffeine in the morning never hurt anybody. Maybe we’ll get some eggs going, too.” Quick called to the kitchen.
“Lucky, could you make us some coffee?”

When there was no response, Quick excused himself to check on Lucky.

The kitchen was empty. The back door was open. Lucky was nowhere to be seen.

“Damn it, Lucky.”

Quick closed the door, turned on the coffeemaker, and started making breakfast.

“Hey, baby,” said Lucky with a smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hands. “I’m back.”

She took the flowers. They were the cheap kind, found in discount drugstores everywhere. But it was the thought that counted,
she supposed.

“No hug?” he asked.

“Sorry.”

They shared a brief embrace. He stood there a moment, waiting for her to invite him in.

“So…” he said.

She apologized again, stepping aside.

“Great news, babe. Gorgoz is handled, so no more worries there.”

She perked up. “Really?”

“Yep. You’re free and clear.”

Janet scooped him up in her arms and squeezed him close. “Oh, Lucky, I’m so glad to hear that. You have no idea how worried
we were.”

“Why worry? I am the god of good fortune. Things always work out for me. And my special lady.”

She hugged him tight. “This is wonderful news. Have you told Phil and Teri yet?”

“They already know.”

“That’s terrific.” She whirled around in a dance across the room.

“I was thinking, babe,” said Lucky. “We should take a vacation. Go somewhere nice. Ever been to Tahiti?”

“I have a job.”

“We’ll fly over for the afternoon. Be back by midnight. I promise.”

“I’ll pack my swimsuit.” She rubbed his ears and ran into the bedroom. “So what did you do?”

“What?”

“How did you solve the problem?” asked Janet.

“Does it matter?” He sniffed the flowers. “It’s solved.”

She stuck her head out of the bedroom.

“Well, if you have to know, I didn’t actually have to do anything. Good ol’ Phil took care of it, the romantic lug. Seemed
he went and made a deal to get you and Teri out from under Gorgoz’s thumb. Very proactive. You know the old saying. He who
helps himself… something like that.”

Janet walked over and put her hands on her hips. “What about Phil?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine. He’s a survivor, rolls with the punches, makes the best of it—”