A Martinez - Divine Misfortune

“Uh-hmm.” Quick grinned. “Let me guess. For the most part everything was going great today, but sometimes, odd moments of improbable bad luck hit you out of nowhere.”

Phil nodded. “How’d you know?”

“The universe is a chaotic place by nature. Gods of fortune can curb that, even bend it in the favor of their followers, but they can’t completely prevent bad things from happening.”

Lucky returned with the game and started setting it up.

“Want to explain about entropic balance?” asked Quick. “You’re the luck god.”

“It’s not that complicated,” said Lucky as he laid out the miniature pewter murder weapons. “In the old days, we usually just ignored it and all that ill fortune gathered up in a giant clump of negative karma hanging over our followers’ heads. Eventually, it would fall and fall hard. Whammo, a lifetime of delayed entropy would hit them all at once.” He punched his fist into his palm. “The results… not very pretty.

“But you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” said Lucky. “We eventually figured out that if we allowed small bits of random chaos into our followers’ daily lives we could defuse the big whammy. Entropy isn’t picky. It just doesn’t like being ignored. So a few odd misfortunes here, a little bizarre luck there, and everything works itself out just fine.”

“I didn’t think you had to worry about stuff like that,” said Phil. “I thought you just did whatever you wanted.”

“Oh, we have rules we have to follow, too,” said Quick.

“Are you allowed to admit that in front of me?” Phil asked. “Isn’t there some kind of rule against it?”

Lucky and Quick chuckled.

“Some gods think we should present an all-powerful image to mortals all the time,” said Lucky. “But they’re humorless pricks.”

Phil laughed. He was becoming used to this. Not just talking with gods and living with gods, but actually liking them despite himself. But Lucky and Quick weren’t immortals as he knew them. They weren’t aloof or terrifying or wrathful. They were just a couple of working stiffs scraping by with a handful of followers and hoping to get ahead. Even if he would have preferred not having a reformed Aztec sun god sleeping on his sofa, he could relate.

They picked their pawns, and Lucky won the roll to see who would go first.

“Imagine that,” mumbled Quick.

“Oh don’t be such a spoilsport.”

Lucky picked up the die just as the front door opened. Teri stepped in, a little disheveled and with a slightly dazed expression.

“Teri, what’s wrong?” asked Phil.

“There was an accident.”

Quick threw a glare at Lucky, who stared nonchalantly at the die in his hand.

“What happened?” Phil asked. “Are you hurt?”

“No, there were some injuries, but nothing serious. I got hit by a truck. It was a real mess. I could’ve been killed.” She absorbed the thought. “I should’ve been killed.”

Phil put his arm around her and guided her to the sofa. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Lucky’s car saved my life.”

Quick cleared his throat while Lucky straightened out the line of miniature murder weapons.

Teri gave a brief account of her accident. She mentioned the strange speckled pigeons at the end.

“That’s weird,” said Phil. “I was attacked by spotted birds today, too.”

“Are we going to play this game or not?” asked Lucky. “This murder isn’t going to solve itself. Didn’t a great mortal once remark that justice delayed is justice denied?”

“I got it.” Phil snapped his fingers and pointed to his god. “This is all because of you.”

“These things happen,” said Lucky. “I don’t think there’s anything to be gained by overanalyzing random events like this.”

Quick grunted.”-Says the luck god.”

Lucky’s smile faded. “Well, now, I can explain-”

“It’s more of that entropic rebalancing, isn’t it?” Phil said. “The pressure valve to keep the really bad stuff from happening.”

“Yes! Karmic necessity. No big thing. A little inconvenient, sure, but not really a problem.”

“Getting run over by a truck is not an inconvenience,” said Quick.

“Hey, I’m thirsty,” said Lucky. “Anybody else thirsty?”

“I could use a soda,” said Phil.

“One soda, coming up!” Lucky grabbed Quick by the wing. “Want to help me with this one, buddy?”

“Help you grab a soda? Does that really require two gods?”

“Excuse us.” Lucky pulled Quick into the kitchen.

“Will you cut it out?” whispered Lucky as he grabbed a beverage.

“They need to know,” said Quick.

“They’re my followers. That’s for me to decide. So why don’t you mind your own business?”

Quick flapped his wings in exasperation.

Lucky poked the serpent god in the chest. “If you find it too hard to shut up, you’re always free to find another place to crash.”

Quick snarled. “You’re an asshole.”

Lucky’s ears fluttered. “All part of my charm.”

They returned to the living room.

“One soda for my newest follower,” announced Lucky boisterously. He tossed the can to Phil.

“I was just explaining how it works,” said Phil. “The way that weird things have to happen to keep chaos in check. It’s not going to always be like this, is it?”

“Oh no,” said Lucky. “It’ll balance itself out eventually, and you can trust that while you’re under my influence even vicious squirrels and nasty birds are little more than an inconvenience.”

Quick bit his lip hard enough that his fangs drew blood.

“So are we going to play or not?” asked Lucky. “If I recall correctly, I’m first. And I think I will try to solve the crime.”

“You haven’t even eliminated any suspects yet,” said Phil.

“Can’t hurt to take a guess, can it? I think it was Professor Plum in the conservatory with the lead pipe.” Lucky opened the envelope and spread out the cards for everyone to see. “Must be my lucky day.”

Quick sighed. “This is why I only play checkers with gods of fortune.”

“Are you sure this is the right place?” asked Bonnie.

“I’m sure,” said Syph.

Bonnie studied the house across the street. It was nice but unremarkable. difficult to imagine that a god called it home.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“How do you know he’s in there?” asked Bonnie.

“I just know.”

“Okay then. Do you want me to go in with you or do you think you can handle it on your own?”

Syph slouched in her seat.

“I can go in with you if you want,” said Bonnie.

Syph sighed, and the rearview mirror fell off. Bonnie had long since moved past commenting on things like this. She’d almost stopped noticing them. She waited for Syph to say or do anything, but the goddess just sat there.

“What’s wrong?” asked Bonnie.

“I can’t do it.”

“What?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I can’t go in there.”

Bonnie tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

“Do you want to stay a goddess of heartbreak forever?”

“No.”

“Well, the first step to changing that is to confront the lousy bastard whose rejection turned you into… this.”

“I guess that makes sense,” said Syph quietly.

“You’re damn right it makes sense. This guy rejected you. He treated you like crap. You, the goddess of love!”

“He wasn’t as bad as all that. Really, it was more my fault than his.”

Overwhelming gloom filled the car. Even knowing it was a foreign despair forcing itself upon her didn’t help Bonnie resist entirely. She rolled down her windows in hopes of letting the negativity escape.