Divine Misfortune (2010) (3 page)

“But I’m not going to force myself on you. I don’t need to. You’ll see the benefits of having me around soon enough. You don’t
want to put me up for the night, that’s cool. Though I did notice you have a very nice guest room. But I’ll leave. No smiting.
No wrath. Providing you make me a sandwich at least.”

Teri made a bologna-and-ham offering for their new god.

Lucky stood beside his luggage on the porch. “Extra mustard. Just like I like it.” He saluted. “I’ll be seeing you, kids.
Hopefully sooner than later, but that’s your call. Thanks for the sandwich. Verily, I am pleased. I suggest you check under
your couch cushions.”

A luminous ball of light enveloped the god and his luggage.

“Wait,” said Phil, “uh, please, sir.”

The light faded, and Lucky raised a brow.

“Is there a way you’d prefer for us to contact you?” asked Phil. “Like a special prayer or chant or something?”

“Oh, right. Almost forgot.” Lucky reached into his pocket and handed them a business card. “You can reach me at this number
when you’re ready to commit. But don’t call before noon.” He put on his sunglasses with a smile. “I like to sleep in.”

The sphere of light engulfed him. He shot skyward and sailed off into the horizon.

Phil and Teri flipped the cushions, revealing thousands of coins. Enough to cover the entire surface. Mostly pennies, a few
dozen buttons, and a handful of coins of foreign currency. There was also a doubloon, an earring Teri had lost over a year
ago, and an old key they couldn’t place.

Phil shook the change jar. “Not a bad exchange for a sandwich.”

“Maybe we should’ve asked him to stay,” said Teri.

“You’re the one who didn’t want him here.”

“I know, but now I feel kind of bad about it.”

They put the cushions back and sat. “I’m sure it isn’t that big of a deal.” He put his arm around Teri. “I thought for sure
he was going to smite us.”

She laughed. “He seemed like a good guy. For a god. Why would he want to live with us?”

“He said he was down on his luck,” said Phil. “And I’ve heard that the rent on Mount Olympus is pretty steep.”

She elbowed him gently in the ribs. “Where did you hear that?”

“CNN had a special report a few months ago. Did you know that Odin bought a house in San Diego?”

“Seems a little sunny for a Norse god.”

“Probably got tired of all that snow.” Phil glanced around the room. “Have you seen the remote?” he asked. “I could’ve sworn
I left it on the end table.”

“I’m sure it’ll turn up, honey.”

It didn’t. Neither gave it much thought at the time, but it was the beginning.

The next morning, Teri slipped in the shower. It wasn’t a serious fall, though she did bruise her tailbone and skin her calf
on the faucet. Phil’s car had a flat tire, and when he tried to change it, he ended up stripping the lug nuts. Teri gave him
a ride to work. She spilled coffee on her lap. It didn’t burn, but it did ruin her favorite skirt.

“I’ll pick you up around six,” she said as she gave him a kiss. “Love ya, babe.”

“Love you, too.” He stepped onto the curb, and she pulled away, tearing off the end of his sleeve, which was stuck in her
door.

Grumbling, Phil trudged into the building. Hank, the security guard, remarked on Phil’s appearance. Some kind of joke that
Phil didn’t catch, but he nodded and smiled anyway. As he was signing in, the pen broke. More accurately, it exploded, splattering
his fingers and shirt with blue ink.

“Son of a…”

Hank handed Phil some paper towels. “Looks like you’re having one of those days, huh?”

Phil dabbed at the mess with the towels, accomplishing nothing. “What?”

“Hey, we all have them. One of those days when everything goes wrong.”

Phil lowered the towel.

“Something wrong?” asked Hank.

“No, everything’s fine. Excuse me. I have to make a phone call.”

His cell battery was dead.

Phil stopped at the row of elevators. People pushed past him, but he hesitated. So far the bad luck had been minor, but he
saw no reason to tempt the wrath of his new god by getting into an elevator.

He took the stairs. One step at a time, very slowly, with a death grip on the railing. He made it to his cubicle without tearing
any more clothes or breaking any bones.

Elliot peered over the cubicle’s edge. “Geez, buddy, you look like hell.”

“Long story.” Phil searched his wallet, but couldn’t find Lucky’s card.

“How’d that god search go?” asked Elliot. “Did you and Teri find one you agreed on?”

Phil nodded.

“So you did it?” Elliot came around and sat on Phil’s desk. “You actually did it.” Yes.

“I didn’t think you’d actually follow through with it, buddy.

I mean, I thought you might, but I was sure you weren’t going to be able to get Teri to commit.”

“She saw a miracle cat,” said Phil.

Elliot chuckled. He took a bite of his doughnut. Jelly squirted out and struck Phil in the eye.

“Dude, I am so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“How’s it working out?” asked Elliot.

Phil wiped the jelly from his face. “Not so great. I think I’ve been smote.”

“Already? That has to be a record.” Elliot tried to act casual, but exited the cubicle, continuing the conversation from a
distance. “Should I be on the lookout for lightning bolts?”

“I don’t think it’s as serious as that,” said Phil. “My god isn’t that type.”

“Just the same, buddy, you should probably appease him before it’s too late. This kind of thing can get out of hand quickly.
Did Teri catch any divine wrath?”

“I think so.”

“Bet she’s not happy about that.”

“I’ll let you know.”

Elliot went back to his cubicle, and Phil dialed Teri’s cell number. She didn’t answer. Her battery was probably dead, too.
He decided not to panic. There was no need for it yet. All the smiting had been annoying, a string of bad luck from an angry
prosperity god. Nothing life-threatening to this point.

His imagination worked against him. He could see the wheel coming off her car, sending her skidding into the path of a speeding
semi. Or her tripping at the top of a flight of stairs and falling. Or getting electrocuted by a fax machine. Or a million
other grim possibilities. It was all luck in the end. If probability had it in for you, there wasn’t much you could do to
stop it.

He pushed aside his concerns and let work occupy his thoughts. He kept glancing at the clock. A minute after she should’ve
made it to work, he called. She wasn’t there yet.

He waited fifteen minutes, then called again. Teri still wasn’t in.

Phil started getting nervous.

“Problem, buddy?” asked Elliot, his head poking above the cubicle partition.

“It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? You aren’t typing. Normally, the clickity-click of your keyboard is like a machine gun.”

Phil’s hands rested in his lap. “It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. He should’ve listened to Teri when she said no to getting a god. And he shouldn’t have listened to her
when she’d said she’d changed her mind. Now she was the victim of an angry raccoon god, and it was all his fault. If he hadn’t
brought it up in the first place then everything would have been fine.

The phone rang. He answered it so fast, he didn’t even realize it was to his ear until he heard Teri’s voice.

“Phil, has something gone wrong? Are you okay?”

He slumped in his chair and blew out a calming breath. “I’m good.” He pondered the jelly and ink stains on his shirt as he
formulated his next sentence. If Teri hadn’t figured out what was happening by now, there was no reason to upset her. He could
appease Lucky on his own time, and she might never know.

“I just called to say I love you,” he said.

“Uh-huh. Love you, too.”

The line was silent as Teri formulated her own reply.

“So we’ve been smote, right?”

“I’m fairly certain we have been,” he agreed.

“Damn. And to think I was feeling sorry for that little bastard.”

Phil winced. “Honey, I don’t think it’s a good idea to profane our new god right now.”

“Sorry. I knew this was a bad idea. Why didn’t you talk me out of it?”

“Why did you talk me into it?” he replied.

“We have to fix it. Maybe we could renounce him.”

Phil said, “I don’t know. That costs a lot of money. Lawyers in the Divine Court aren’t cheap. Plus it takes time. Sometimes
months.”

He imagined having another day like this, one right after another. Even if it didn’t eventually kill him, he wasn’t looking
forward to it. Teri had the same thought.

“So we appease him, right?” she asked. “That shouldn’t be too hard. He said we could just call him when we were ready to commit.”

“I left the number at the house.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said through clenched teeth. “It was just some bad luck.”

“I suppose you’re going to blame Lucky for that, too.”

“This is no big deal,” he said. “We can handle this. It’s just one bad day. Tonight, you’ll pick me up—”

“Yes, about that. Someone else will have to take you home tonight. I ran over a hubcap, and it broke my axle.”

“Damn it, do you know how much that’s going to cost us?”

“More than a jar of pennies,” she replied. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want this fixed. Now.”

He heard a thud on the line.

“Ow, son of a bitch! My paperweight just dropped on my foot. Jeez, that hurts. Phil…”

“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

“Make it quick, okay?” she said. “I have an important meeting at two and I know if I end up setting the boardroom on fire
it’ll probably earn me a write-up.”

He hung up and tried to save his work. Sickly green filled his monitor and smoke rose from his computer. Phil quickly unplugged
it.

Elliot popped up. “Do I smell something burning?”

Phil waved away the smoke. “I need to borrow your car.”

Elliot narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why don’t you have yours?”

“Flat tire.”

“This isn’t wrath-related, is it?”

Phil considered lying, but he wasn’t very good at it. “Maybe.”

“Forget it.”

“Remember that time I caught you and Ginger in the broom closet during the vernal equinox party?” said Phil. “And your wife
was about to discover you, too, if I hadn’t stalled her, if I remember right.”

“That’s no fair. I was drunk. It was just a little making out anyway. Nothing serious.”

“I’m sure Amy would’ve been fine with seeing you and Ginger dry-humping next to the mops.”

Elliot threw his keys at Phil.

“We’re even now. But please be careful with that car. I just bought it, and my insurance doesn’t cover acts of gods.”

Bonnie would later think about how random it all was, and how an entire life could change because of a stolen motorcycle.
They never found the thief. She sometimes liked to believe that it was destiny, that an emissary of fate had snatched her
prized Harley as part of a larger plot. Perhaps right now the cycle was being used to tow the sun across the heavens, too.
She could live with that.

She knew better. If there was one thing her dealings with the divine would teach her, it was that there was no larger plan.
Mortals might not like that. Gods might do their best to deny it. But Whim was the true ruler of the universe. Bonnie had
bought her Harley on a whim. Someone had stolen it on another whim. It was a whim of public transportation that there was
a bus stop just a block from her apartment, and a whim of nature that the morning was so beautiful she left early to sit on
the bench and enjoy the crisp weather.

A lone woman occupied the bench. She was disheveled, with dirty brown hair. She wore a dress that must have been beautiful
a decade ago, but now was tattered and dirty. She sat slumped. Her face was hidden and she wore gloves, so Bonnie couldn’t
guess her age. Bonnie wondered if the woman was homeless or a burned-out hippie or something else. Bonnie had expected more
people since it was the morning commute, but maybe the woman had scared them away.

Bonnie almost walked away but decided she was being judgmental. She wasn’t going to let a snap judgment ruin her day.

“Hello,” she said as warmly as she could.

The woman turned her head. Her hair fell across her eyes and obscured everything but her chin. It was smooth and pale. Too
pale. As if her skin had never been exposed to sunlight. Or any light at all. Like an albino. She didn’t smile.

“Hello.” There was a slight rasp in her flat voice.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” The woman raised her head. Her hair clung to her face, refusing to show any more of it. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Bonnie decided the woman was weird, but harmless. If she did scare away the other commuters, it just gave Bonnie more room
on the bench. She sat down. A chill passed through her.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” said the woman, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry?”

“You shouldn’t have sat there.”

The woman sighed deeply and a frozen wind swept across the bench. The birdsongs turned shrill. Darkness blotted out the sun,
and a gray shadow fell across the bus stop and only the bus stop. The rest of the world was just as bright and warm as before,
but the miniature eclipse enveloped the stop in raw, all-consuming hopelessness. There was no other word for it.

The darkness passed. It didn’t fade so much as bleed into the ground and slide into place as the woman’s shadow. The cold
lessened but didn’t disappear. Bonnie jumped off the bench and rubbed her hands together.

“It’s too late for that,” said the tattered woman.

Bonnie’s cell rang. The ring tone told her it was her boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” said the woman.

Bonnie flipped open the phone. “Hi, Walter. You would not believe what just happened to—”

He broke up with her. He wasn’t rude, but he didn’t feign politeness either. Just told her it was over, and hung up. She didn’t
have time to absorb the news, much less formulate a response. She tried calling him back, five times, but he didn’t answer.