Accidentally...Cimil?

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  I gasped and turned, only to see a wall of people staring right through me with extremely unhappy faces. Mixed in these faces were… “Guy? Chaam? Kinich… Ixtab!” What were all thirteen gods doing there?

  I waved my hands in front of their faces, but they didn’t seem to acknowledge my presence.

  “I’m losing my crazy-loca head,” I whispered.

  “Nope. They can’t see you, they’re all dead,” Other-me said.

  “Nope,” I argued. “I’m crazy. Do you know how I know that? Because I’m standing here talking to myself!”

  Other-me held out her hand and hit me with a powerful surge of numbing light. Every major muscle froze.

  Dammit. That’s one of my best tricks!

  “Cimil. You will listen very carefully. Do you understand? Make like a dashboard hula girl if you do.”

  “Huh?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Nod! Nod if you understand.”

  I managed to make a little nod.

  “Good,” she said, “because as you are aware, the souls of the dead reside in a place beyond the confines of time and space.”

  She released her grip, and I sucked in some air. “Yes. And I am the only one who can open a portal between the worlds…”

  The Other-me jumped up and down, clapping. “Ding, ding, ding! You got it! I opened it up so we could have a little chat.”

  I pointed to her. “Wait. So this isn’t a dream?”

  “Nope. I’m dead! So is everyone else.” She looked at my brethren whose empty eyes made it easy to see that something horrible had happened to them. “And it was all your fault!” She looked up at the sky and kept on looking.

  “Hello?” I snapped my fingers. “Helloooo?”

  She didn’t respond.

  Gods, the future version of me was so annoying. What happened?

  “Hey! Wake up!” She snapped to.

  “Hi there!” She smiled with wide eyes.

  “You were explaining that I did something wrong?” I asked.

  “Aha!” She flicked up her index finger. “Therein lies the question.” She shook her head and let out a whoosh. “I don’t have a clue.”

  “You don’t know?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I know we all went crazy and basically blew up the planet. Oh! And that it’s your fault.”

  Just like the vision I’d seen in Narmer’s eyes! Except for the it-being-my-fault part.

  “You’re trying to tell me,” I said, “that I did something wrong, but you don’t know what. And that whatever this thing is, I destroyed the planet? So how do you know it was me?

  “I remember dancing around the large hall, singing, ‘I won! It’s finally over!’ Other than that, it’s pretty much a blank.”

  “That’s not proof! Come on!”

  She stared with a deep frown. “Okay, I do remember one more thing—well, two really—but one is pretty depressing. Not sure I should go there.”

  “Please, go there.”

  “Okay.” She clapped excitedly. “I remember sleeping with a lot of strange creatures. What did you call that pharaoh?”

  “A bloodsucker.”

  She touched her nose. “That’s it! I remember sleeping with a lot of bloodsuckers. I mean”—she fanned her face—“a lot! But something was always missing.”

  A soul, perhaps? “So this is your big depressing clue?” I asked.

  “No. That’s the happy memory. Several thousand years from now, you discover that you are actually the bringer of the apocalypse.” She sighed. “This is how the Creator designed you.”

  That couldn’t be right. I always protected humanity, safeguarded them from destruction. Except when I felt the need to deliver pain to the stupid, humiliate the weak, destroy all things imperfect—gasp! That’s, like, everyone. Except for me. And Minky, of course.

  I covered my mouth, unable to believe it. “I am the bringer of the apocalypse?” I whispered.

  “See. I told you. Completely sucks. I didn’t want to go there,” said Other-me.

  “But why? Why would the Creator want this? Why would he-she make me evil?”

  She shrugged. “How the hell am I supposed to know? That’s like asking why evil even exists. Or why lions like to chow down on baby gazelles. It’s like asking why humans created Teen Mom and call it entertaining. Bad, tasteless things are simply a part of the equation. Evil is a necessary ingredient.”

  I understood that. I did. After all, I was a goddess. There could be no life without death. There could be no joy without first understanding sorrow. No enlightenment without suffering. But I didn’t feel evil. I felt good. Okay, good with a really mischievous streak.

  “This can’t be right.” I shook my head.

  “Look at the evidence,” she said. “Everything you do, even with good intentions, always ends in a mess.”

  “Noooo,” I protested.

  She folded her pale arms.

  “Oh, really? What about the Festival of Lights?” she asked.

  “Okay. But how was I supposed to know that the volcano would erupt and kill all those people?” I squabbled.

  “And Atlantis?” she said condescendingly.

  “Plato completely exaggerated that story! It was a practical joke! Besides, Máax forgave me for sinking his island.”

  Other-me stared.

  Hell. Maybe she’s right. I thought about Narmer and how I’d inadvertently created an evil new species that dined on people.

  “Okay. Fine,” I admitted. “I seem to have a destructive streak, but what do I do?” I asked. Because despite everything, I didn’t want the world to end, and I certainly didn’t want to cause the death of my brothers and sisters.

  “Be evil,” she replied.

  “Brilliant plan.” I sat in the dirt and covered my face, groaning.

  “You do realize you’re naked and getting mud in your butt crack, right?”

  I growled at Other-me. “Who the hell cares?” We were all going to die anyway. Dirty and clean butt cracks alike.

  She plunked down next to me. “I care, and so do you. That’s why instead of protecting humanity, you will try to destroy it.”

  What exactly was Other-me smoking? Unicorn turds? Oh yes, laugh if you like, but no one has ever recovered from such a journey.

  “Great plan. Really, I mean it,” I said. “But I think I’ll go back to my realm and consult with my brethren.” I stood up, brushed the dirt from my ass, and started toward the cenote, which was no longer piled with bodies—that little trick had only been a way to get my attention, I assumed.

  “No. You mustn’t tell them,” she protested, stepping in front of me. “They will only think you’ve gone insane and see you as a threat to humanity. They will lock you away.”

  “What do you propose I do?” I asked.

  “I’m serious. You will fight your instincts to help or do good. Whatever you think is right, you will do the exact opposite. Voilà. No more destruction!”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  Other-me gripped my shoulders. “No. You’re an idiot! Okay, which makes me an idiot, too. But you have to do this.”

  I shook my head no. “If I did the opposite of everything I felt was right, men would be deported to the moon. Especially Egyptian men. Named Narmer.” Hey. Not a bad idea!

  Other-me stomped her foot. “Cimil. This isn’t a joke.”

  “Who’s joking?”

  She gave me the infamous Cimil stare of death. I’d invented it several centuries ago. Glad to know I’d not given it up. It was very scary.

  “You’re not even sure this will change the future,” I grumbled. “Who’s not to say that me trying to destroy the world doesn’t end with me actually destroying it?”

  “You have a point,” she said, tapping her finger on the side of her mouth. “If only we had a sign from the Universe.”

  I cringed.

  “Ha! I know that look!” She jumped up and down pointing at me. “You got a sign, didn’t you?”

 
Yes. I’d seen the vision in Narmer’s eyes. “I saw a glimpse of the gods going insane and destroying the world.” I sighed. “Because they are lonely.”

  “Ha! I’m right! I knew it.” She hugged me. “Cimil, you must find them all soul mates. While doing the opposite of trying to do anything good, of course. In fact, you should start with yourself. Go find your man!” She started doing that little dance from the future called disco, and I resisted the urge to join along. Disco dancing always made me feel better.

  “Love is not in the cards for me. Never has been, never will be.”

  “Sorry, but the Universe has spoken.” She went into lightning finger mode. A timeless disco-move classic.

  “The man I thought I loved crushed my heart and ripped off my head. Oh, he’s also turned into some dark, scary creature that drinks blood.”

  The only, and I mean, only thing I wanted to do was get my ass back to Egypt to dish out a little payback.

  “You have to make up with him,” she said happily.

  “Not gonna happen. I hate the man. I will never love again.”

  “You must learn to forgive,” she pushed.

  I looked her squarely in the eyes. “He killed Minky.”

  “Motherfucker! If everyone wasn’t dead already, I’d kill the bastard,” she replied.

  Damned right! And what a damned strange conversation.

  “Then you will have to focus on our brethren and get them to fall in love,” she said. “While you do the opposite of anything you think is in the best interest of humanity. So you can save us, of course.”

  I laughed so loud that the leaves from the trees above shook violently. “That’s even crazier than asking me to fall in love.”

  I didn’t mean it as an insult, but did she realize who we were talking about? There was my sister Ixtab, Goddess of Suicide. She would scare any mortal man right out of his skin. Then there was my brother Votan, the God of Death and War. His ego was so big I often wondered how he managed to squeeze it into a mortal form. Then there was Kinich, God of the Sun and our leader. He was so busy trying to accept what he was that there was no room for any woman in his life. There wasn’t one deity alive who was relationship material.

  Then there was the question of finding mates for them. Sure, we gods were powerful and incredibly good-looking, but we’re also dysfunctional and highly unevolved from an emotional standpoint. We were like children. With superpowers! Who would want to date any of us?

  Narmer wanted to date you.

  Narmer is an ass.

  Agreed.

  Then there was the whole picky thing. I mean, that there’d actually be someone out there my brethren would feel was their equal? Not gonna happen. The list of reasons as for the ridiculousness of this idea went on and on and on.

  “Can’t we just get everyone puppies?” I suggested. “We can make them immortal.”

  Other-me rolled her eyes. “They don’t need puppies. They need passion! They need romance! They need a reason to live. Besides, nothing is impossible. Especially for you. Or us. Whatever. We are the only ones who have mastered our gifts. We are the Goddess of the Underworld, Pain, Chicken Noodle Soup, Campfire Stories, Shopping, Rainbows, Bad Humor, and Deception, just to name a few.”

  “You forgot Bringer of the Apocalypse,” I said dryly.

  “Exactly! We completely rock. They should name an entire species after us. Penguins! Yes. They should rename them Cimguins!”

  What happened to future me? I’m so… crazy.

  “You will simply need to use your powers,” she said, “and choose the best match you can. Mold the situation to force our brethren to open their hearts.”

  This plan was beyond any degree of insanity I’d ever witnessed. But as I mulled it over, I could not deny its logic and the facts before me.

  “Where do I start?” I sighed.

  “What were you about to do next?” the Other-me asked.

  “Kill Narmer along with his five brothers and sisters.”

  “Then you shall help them live,” she said. “And you shall start the search for soul mates.”

  “Yippee.” Good times. Good fucking times.

  PART TWO—CIMIL AND RRROBERTO

  THE NOT-SO-EARLY YEARS

  Chapter Seven

  Fast-forward through mountains of boring crap to Barcelona, Spain, May 1, 1712

  (Hint: This is right before a certain vampire has his date with destiny. Poor guy ends up accidentally married. Oops!)

  “I’m not going to sleep with Narmer’s evil brother.” I dealt another card from the top of the deck and slid it across the long, formal dining room table.

  “What? I think vampires in tights look hot.” Other-me picked up the card and frowned. “Reminds me of chorizo. And who can resist meat in an intestinal casing?”

  Ick. “I can. You do know you’re not inspiring me to continue saving the world, don’t you?”

  She began nibbling her thumb. That meant she had nothing in her hand. Gods, I was such a bad poker player. Pretty surprising given that’s the only thing my flock, aka “the dead,” did all day.

  “Exactly why am I failing to inspire you?” she mumbled, adjusting the strap of her ballerina tutu.

  “Because you’re fucking crazy. Not much to look forward to.” Sometimes, she’d wake me up, screaming I was on fire. Other days, she’d break out in hysterical laughter watching imaginary reruns of a show called the Love Boat.

  “Crazy? Moi?” She reordered her cards. “Dammit. I got nothing. Fold.” She threw the cards on the table. “Yes. I suppose I am. But I think your crazy boat to Crazytown also sailed oodles of centuries ago.”

  Perhaps it was true. I’d only become more and more disconnected from reality as time moved on. Reality was, after all, constantly changing.

  “I have a good excuse,” I said. “Look who I spend time with.”

  “Yourself,” she said dryly. “You spend time with yourself. Speaking of, shouldn’t you be packing? We have mates to find, and your work here is almost complete.”

  “We just got to Spain.” I groaned. I’d spent almost four millennia doing nothing but causing mayhem, instigating mischief, destroying people’s lives—all in the name of saving humanity, of course. Bottom line, no matter how hard I worked, Other-me still showed up for work every day to remind me I hadn’t changed the future. I was beginning to think I never would.

  “I’ve decided I’m not moving from this town house until we get another sign from the Universe.”

  “With whom do you converse?” said a deep voice from behind.

  I twisted my body in the chair.

  Narmer stood in the corner wearing black leather pants and a white shirt with puffy sleeves. “You dirty son of a—Get out!” Dammit, I’d paid my dues to this chaotic scheme. I’d let him, his brothers, and sisters live. Vampires, as they eventually named their species, were rampant in the world, in particular the Obscuros, who were quite evil and intent on enslaving mankind. All thanks to wonderful me.

  Narmer held out his hands. “Wait. I only ask that you listen,” he said, dipping his chin to stare directly into my eyes. Gods, his dark eyes still affected me. I wanted to pluck them from his head.

  “Don’t kill him, Cimil,” Other-me said. Of course, Narmer couldn’t see or hear her.

  “Shut your piehole,” I told her.

  Narmer cocked a brow. “I am not familiar with the term piehole.”

  “I’m not speaking to you, unicorn slayer!” I spat and then turned toward Other-me. “Not a peep from you. Got it? Not a peep. I don’t care if we all die.”

  Other-me shrugged and then mimed the “zippy lip, throw away the key” thing.

  I took a deep breath and turned my attention back to Narmer. “What are you doing here?”

  He lifted his chin. “I am here to apologize.”

  I bust out laughing. Ironically, so did Other-me. At least we were consistent.

  I slapped my knee. “Funny, big boy, but I think that camel left the sa
nd dune four-point-seven millennia ago when you killed my Minky and decapitated me.”

  His eyes were hard and cold. “I behaved deplorably. There is no excuse.” Chin still held high, he lowered himself to his knees. “I’ve spent thousands of years searching for the answers—what I am, how I was truly created, why no matter how many women I sleep with or drink from, I feel emptier by the day.”

  “Excellent! Then my wish to see you suffer for eternity was granted. It’s about fucking time the Universe gave me something.”

  “I know you despise me,” he said. “But let me assure you, the feeling is mutual.”

  “Then why the hell are you here, on your knees, asking for forgiveness?” I seethed.

  He cleared his throat. “As much as my stomach churns with revulsion at the notion, I believe that… perhaps…”

  “What, you filthy, fangy pharaoh?”

  “Perhaps I have never truly gotten over you.” He swallowed. “I ask that you give me thirty days to discover the truth, and if I am correct, to help me find a way to break this curse.”

  What a complete jackass! This monster destroyed my heart and wanted me to help him figure out if he still loved me so that if he did, I could help him to stop loving me?

  Finally, someone crazier than me!

  “The only thing you will get from me is the final blow. And I don’t mean the sexy kind. Get up,” I growled.

  He was up on his feet, standing over me within the blink of an eye.

  “You’re wasting your precious time, Narmer. I wouldn’t cross the street to poke you in the eye. And trust me, I really enjoy poking people in the eye.”

  “You must reconsider, Cimil. Do you have any idea the hell I have endured these past millennia? I go to sleep thinking about the woman I hate, who destroyed my life. I wake up with an enormous erection, still thinking about you. It makes me sick.”

  “Awww. How sweet. He likes you, Cimil,” said Other-me.

  “Shut up,” I replied to her.

  “Who are you speaking to?” Narmer asked, glancing between the corner of the room and me.

  “Silence!” I barked.

  Narmer studied me with curiosity as I completed my conversation. With myself. Ugh. I am so crazy!

  “Silence is unknown to me,” Other-me said. “But before you respond with one of your whimsical replies, like ‘Shut your big whorey mouth,’ I ask you to think before you respond to this vampire. What does your instinct tell you to do?” Other-me asked.