A Lee Martinez

by Divine Misfortune (v5)

  “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—”

  “Lucky…”

  “I didn’t stick around for the exact details. But I think you’re losing sight of the big picture. The problem is solved. Who cares who solved it?”

  “I care. And I’m willing to bet Teri cares, too.”

  “To make any deal with Gorgoz, Phil had to renounce me,” said Lucky. “That means his fate isn’t my problem.”

  “You’re just going to abandon him?”

  “I kind of have to.”

  Janet cupped his head in her hands, leaned in, and kissed his forehead. She unclasped her necklace and put it on the coffee table, then headed toward the front door.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “I like you, Lucky. I like you a lot. You’re romantic and sweet and able to fly me to Tahiti at a moment’s notice. But if you can leave Phil to the mercy of some mad chaos god then you’re not the guy I hoped you were.”

  “Babe, I want to help. I do.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Then help.”

  “It’s against the rules.”

  “Gorgoz doesn’t follow the rules. Screw the rules. If you’re interested in doing the right thing, you know where to find me.

  “You don’t get this guy. He’s bad news. He’s dangerous. Just because I’m immortal that doesn’t mean he can’t do all sorts of nasty things to me.”

  “That’s it then? It’s all about you?”

  “You, too. If you go up against Gorgoz, an ugly death is the best you can hope for.”

  “And you’ll let me go to that ugly death.”

  “I am trying to stop you.”

  She opened the door.

  “Wait up.” Lucky hopped off the couch and fished around in his pockets. “You might want this. It could be important.”

  He handed her the driver’s license. “Took it out of the collective unconscious. Might be worth something.”

  “Thanks.”

  She reached for the license, but he pulled it away.

  “This is it then?” he asked. “You’re breaking up with me?”

  “I don’t know.” She snatched the license away. “Am I?”

  Lucky shrugged.

  “Whatever, babe. You just blew a good thing. Have fun with the rest of your life. However brief it might be.”

  He jumped back on the sofa and turned on the television.

  “Mind if I just kick back here for a few hours? There’s a Gilligan’s Island marathon on. Hate to miss that.”

  “Fine. Just remember to lock up when you leave.”

  After the door closed, Lucky turned off the television. Janet might have had a nice rack and great ass. She might have been fun and cool and the kind of mortal a god didn’t run into every century. But she was just another mortal skirt. There were millions of them on this pitiful planet. It would be absurd to go up against Gorgoz for one insignificant woman.

  Lucky wasn’t heartless. He felt bad about Phil. But that was the way it went in this world. Mortals came and went. Civilizations rose and fell. There was no point in getting attached to any of it. His relationship with Janet had been doomed from the start. Better to have it end now before it got any more serious.

  Janet’s necklace stared at him from the coffee table. He made it disappear. Then made it reappear. Then made it disappear once again.

  Grumbling, he made it appear again and stuck it in his shirt pocket. Then he turned on the television and
tried, with only marginal success, to lose himself in the antics of zany castaways.

  Bonnie and Syph sat in the car parked in Janet’s apartment complex.

  “I still don’t see why I had to drive you here,” said Bonnie. “Couldn’t you just have teleported here or whatever the hell you gods do?”

  “Because I’m conserving my energies,” said Syph. “I’ve gathered just enough tribute for what I need.”

  Bonnie wasn’t in a great mood. While her life wasn’t in danger of being devoured by the goddess’s influence, she still had to deal with the comings and goings of Syph’s new influx of followers in and out of the apartment at all hours of the day. The long lines had died down, but it still wasn’t unusual to have five or six strangers in her apartment at any moment. They’d left a few standing outside her front door when they’d gone off on this errand.

  Syph had been taking on as many clients as she could and throwing in a few stinking boils and withered genitals to keep the clientele coming back for more revenge. She’d been stockpiling tribute. Bonnie hadn’t asked why, but when she saw Janet come around a corner, she figured it out.

  Syph jumped out of the car.

  “Stay out of it,” Bonnie mumbled to herself.

  The sky darkened overhead. The three fluffy white clouds contorted into twisted, agonized faces.

  “Stay out of it.”

  A cat in a tree let out a howl and fell off its perch. It was dead before it hit the ground.

  “Oh, hell.”

  She exited the vehicle and caught up with Syph.

  “You should stay in the car.” The goddess never took her eyes off Janet. “This won’t take a minute.”

  Cracks formed in the pavement with Syph’s every step.

  Janet, oblivious to the approaching wrath, fumbled with her car keys. Bonnie didn’t have to do much detective work to figure that Janet was having a bad day and that it was probably about to get worse.

  Syph bellowed, shaking the earth. “Mortal, prepare yourself to face the vengeance of a goddess spurned!”

  Bonnie was nearly knocked off her feet, and Janet jumped, dropping her keys.

  “For your arrogance, I shall see you thrown into the depths of agony and despair, the endless pits of suffering, the realm of waking nightmares and dreams of pain where only the most presumptuous of mortal transgressors shall shriek and thrash for eternity! There you shall suffer until the end of time, until only the sanctuary of madness shall—”

  Janet held up her hands.

  “I don’t mean to interrupt, but is this about Lucky? Because if you want him, you can have him.”

  Syph hesitated. She’d rehearsed the speech and hadn’t planned on any interruptions beyond some incidental begging and pleading. Janet was crying. Just a little. But it wasn’t motivated by terror.

  Syph kept on.

  “It’s too late for repentance, mortal! You have earned the ire of the heavens! The only mercy you shall be given is the sanctuary of madness—”

  “You already said that,” said Bonnie.

  Syph glared. “You can wait in the car. I don’t mind.”

  Bonnie said, “Sorry. Go right ahead.”

  Syph cleared her throat and threw her hands in the air. A gale-force wind whipped across the lot as she roared, “The ire of the heavens shall rain upon you until the end of time! Your suffering shall be legendary! Your agony, a cautionary tale told to children who dare trifle in godly affairs!”

  She paused. She’d had it all worked out, but now it was all jumbled. She knew she should’ve written notes.

  “Madness shall be your… uhm… your… oh, damn.” She lowered her arms and the winds died down. “See what you made me do? You’ve completely thrown off my timing.”

  “Sorry,” said Bonnie. “But I think sanctuary was the word you were looking for.”

  Janet, meanwhile, had found her keys, gotten into her car, and started it. She stuck her head out the window and asked Syph and Bonnie to step aside so she could be on her way.

  Syph scowled. The engine died. Janet tried to start it again, but there was no response. Not so much as a sputter.

  Janet got out and walked up to Syph. “Why the hell did you do that?”

  “There is no escape from the righteous fury of divine…” Syph took another awkward pause.

  “Furiousness,” suggested Bonnie.

  “Oh, yes. That’s terrifically poetic,” replied Syph.

  “I already told you. He’s all yours,” said Janet. “You two deserve each other.” She wiped a tear from her eye.

  “Well, this is no good,” said Syph in a huff. “This is just no good at all.”

  “Why not? You want him. Now you can have him.”

  “You don’t understand. I’m here for revenge, the smiting and the terror and the righteous furiousness. Not this. This is just sad.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” said Janet.

  “He dumped you then, I take it,” said Syph.

  “No, I dumped him.”

  “You dumped him?”

  “Yes.”

  “You.” Syph pointed very deliberately at Janet. “Dumped him.”

  “Yes. Still hurts like hell though.”

  “But why?” asked Syph. “You dumped him! You win!”

  Janet and Bonnie cast curious looks at Syph.

  “If he dumps you, then you lose,” explained Syph, “but if you dump him, then you win.”

  Janet laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I win.”

  “Clearly, if you dumped him then you must have been unhappy in the relationship, right?” asked Syph.

  “Wrong. I was having a great time.”

  “Oh.” Syph mulled this over. “I get it. You knew he was just about to dump you, and you beat him to the punch.”

  Bonnie pulled Syph aside. “Didn’t you tell me you were the goddess of love at some point? Don’t you get it?”

  Though Syph kept it to herself, she had to admit she didn’t.

  Janet leaned against her car and held back tears. Not a great flood, but a few embarrassing drops. As goddess of heartbreak, Syph could sense Janet’s pain. It irked Syph to see the object of her vengeance like this. It was hard to enjoy revenge when Janet was down in the dumps. It was like kicking a puppy.

  “Well, this just ruins my day,” said Syph as she strolled away. “I’ll be in the car.”

  Bonnie stood there, uncertain of what to do. She didn’t know Janet. But Bonnie’s experiences with the goddess of heartbreak and tragedy, along with a few failed relationships along the way, had left an impression. She knew that there really wasn’t anything to say to make it better. But she also knew she had to try.

  “Gods, huh? What a bunch of dumbasses.”

  Janet half-smiled. She sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve. “Why do we bother?”

  “Can’t live with ’em,” said Bonnie. “Can’t kill ’em.”

  She leaned next to Janet.

  “See, that was a joke. They’re immortal. You can’t kill them. Get it?”

  “Yeah, it was funny.” Janet made a halfhearted attempt to laugh that just came out as a whimper. “This is so damn stupid. It’s not like we were going out a long time. Just a little over two weeks. And it’s not like it was serious. Just fun, y’know.”

  “I know.”

  “But you really want to know what pisses me off?” said Janet. “In a hundred years, he’ll be off gallivanting about, having a grand old time. Y’know that the best revenge is living well bullshit? He’ll be living well, all right. And I’ll be dead while he’s whooping it up with some bimbo who isn’t even born yet.”

  “Look at it this way,” said Bonnie. “At least it’s over.”

  Janet perked up. “Damn it. It’s not over. I’m mooning over some worthless god while Phil’s about to throw himself into the jaws of a dark god to protect his wife.” She jumped in the car. It still wouldn’t start.

  “Something’s happened to Phil?” asked Bonnie.

 
; “You know Phil?”

  “I know him. What’s wrong with him? Is this about Gorgoz?”

  “You know about Gorgoz?”

  “I should. I was nearly sacrificed to him,” said Bonnie.

  Janet twisted the car keys with the same result every time.

  “Come on,” said Bonnie. “We can take my car.”

  Five minutes later, as they drove down the freeway, Syph kept glaring at Janet in the backseat.

  She leaned close to Bonnie and whispered, “Why are we giving her a ride again?”

  “Because you wouldn’t start her car.”

  “I’m not wasting my favor making her life easier,” said Syph with a snort.

  “Then sit back and be quiet.”

  “Careful. You overstep your bounds, High Priestess.”

  “Guess that’s a chance I’ll have to take,” replied Bonnie. Syph folded her arms and sulked for the rest of the ride. Ice formed on the windows, but Bonnie steadfastly ignored it.

  24

  Worthington, drinking a glass of wine, sat by his swimming pool. He checked his watch.

  His cell phone rang out with “Don’t Fear the Reaper.”

  “Yes?”

  Gorgoz’s voice asked, “Worthington? Is that you?”

  “This is my phone, my dark lord.” Worthington struggled to suppress his annoyance. “You don’t need to ask that every time.”

  Gorgoz had a bad habit of shouting into his phone. “When our guest arrives, see that he is brought to me immediately.”

  Worthington moved his cell away from his ear. “As you wish, Master.”

  The phone went silent for a moment.

  “Wretched mortal,” grumbled Gorgoz. “One day, he will burn in eternal agony for his attitude.” An evil laugh rumbled from the speaker. “We’ll see how smug he is when his intestines are pulled out through his—”

  Worthington cleared his throat. Loudly.

  “Lord, you have to either close the phone or push the button to end the conversation.”

  “Oh, bloody hell.” Several bangs and clunks echoed from the phone. “Thinks he’s so clever just because he can operate a fucking phone. I’m the damned lord of chaos. I’m sure that skill will be very helpful when he’s impaled—”

  Worthington performed a stage cough.