A Martinez - Divine Misfortune

She had a seat at the table. “What’s going on here?”

“I’m getting over it,” said Syph. “Wasn’t that your suggestion?”

“So you’re ruining other people’s lives now? That’s your way of moving on?”

A perplexed expression crossed Syph’s face. “I am the goddess of heartbreak and tragedy. This is my job. What else would you expect of me?”

Bonnie had to admit that she hadn’t thought about it. She had noticed that the overwhelming dread and misery she’d felt the past several days had faded. Probably because the goddess was no longer focusing all her influence on a single mortal. Syph had plenty of targets to aim her misery at now.

It left Bonnie with a bit of a dilemma. If she discouraged Syph from exacting revenge in the name of wronged mortals, then Bonnie was bringing all that down upon her head. But if she didn’t, she was allowing Syph to hurt people. And it was even more complicated than that. Bonnie wasn’t certain this operation was even legal. She wasn’t up on the latest smiting regulations.

“Does it have to be so high-profile?” asked Bonnie.

“Things got a little out of hand,” admitted Syph, “but I’m trying to make up for lost time. I have a lot of wrath to dispense.”

“You’re not killing people.” Bonnie leaned closer and whispered. “You’re not, right?”

“Don’t be silly. That’s against the law. And it’s far too light a punishment for those who transgress against the sacred gifts of love.”

She laughed. It wasn’t much, but it was the first genuine moment of joy Bonnie had seen from the goddess. Syph was still colorless, still radiated a noticeable chill, and charged the air with a hint of gloom. But the goddess’s tepid tea wasn’t frozen in a solid block of ice, and things weren’t spontaneously breaking or bursting into flame in the kitchen. That had to be a good thing.

“How was your day?” asked Syph, interrupting Bonnie’s train of thought.

“Not good. I went to talk to your raccoon god.”

Syph rasped, “You did what?”

“Calm down. He wasn’t there. So I talked to his followers. Nice people. Anyway, then a couple of idiots with guns barged in and tried to offer us up as a blood sacrifice to their god. Yada yada yada. They ended up shot. I got out of there after the cops showed up. By the way, you’re on notice with Divine Affairs. Filed a complaint since they were there.”

Bonnie realized the dangers of taunting a goddess, but she didn’t care. Maybe it was because she felt so damn good all of a sudden with that terrible burden of the goddess of heartbreak taken off her shoulders. Not entirely removed, but a good portion off in other places, doing nasty things to people who weren’t her. Now it wasn’t despair that gripped her, but a cheery malaise. The term might have seemed like a paradox a few hours ago, but everything was relative.

Syph said, “So these two men… did they happen to mention the name of their god?”

“Gorgoz. Why? Ever heard of him?”

“No. Can’t say the name rings a bell.”

The impatient grumbling from the crowd had been growing steadily louder.

“We both know I can’t throw you out of here,” said Bonnie. “So feel free to hold court here until Divine Affairs gets off their butts and takes care of this. I’m going to get something to eat, maybe see a movie. When I get back, it’d be nice if this was wrapped up for the night.”

She half-expected to be blasted to dust by the wrathful goddess, but Syph merely nodded. “Of course.”

“We’ll work out the scheduling arrangements in more detail later,” said Bonnie.

Syph gave another slight nod. But this one warned Bonnie against pushing her luck.

“I’ll be home late. Have fun helping people fulfill their spiteful natures.”

Syph raised her teacup. “I always do.”

Teri wasn’t any good at waiting. It had been one of the things Phil liked about her. While he had been trying to figure the best way to ask her out on their first date, she’d shown up at his dorm room with an order of Chinese food and a DVD of Logan’s Run. He hadn’t fallen in love with her at just that moment, but he had started down the path. Later, after he’d learned that she’d done some research to know that Chinese food and sci-fi were the key to his heart and that she didn’t like Chinese food or Michael York, Phil knew he’d end up marrying her. That was the way she was. She wasn’t the kind of person to wait around for someone else to do what she could do perfectly well on her own. Most of the time that worked in her favor.

Not today. They were marked for death by a mad god, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it except wait in their house and hope either Divine Affairs or Lucky solved the problem.

Teri read a book, watched some television, read another book, and did some light chores. She vacuumed. Twice. She washed the dishes by hand even though they had a dishwasher. And she dusted every nook and cranny. When she tried to go out in the backyard, Phil stopped her.

“Why? It should be part of the protective shrine, right? It’s part of the house.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe.”

“What’s going to happen? I’m going to get smote in my own backyard?”

“It could happen,” he said. “Maybe.”

She flopped down next to him on the couch.

“I hate this.”

“I know.”

“I really hate this.”

He put his arm around her. “I know.”

“We’re almost out of toilet paper,” she said.

“Maybe you could call Janet. She could bring us some.”

“I can’t do that. What if that puts her in danger?”

“It’s probably not dangerous, honey.”

“Then why didn’t you suggest any of your friends do it?”

“Janet is dating Lucky. It stands to reason that she’s already a bit of a target in this mess. And since she is dating a god of good fortune, I have to assume she’s well protected.”

“I hate it when you make sense when I’m pissed off.”

“I know you do. That’s why I try not to make it a habit.”

She kissed him, tousled his hair. Then went and made the phone call.

Janet arrived two hours later with several bags of supplies. She had to unload them all from her car herself since Teri and Phil couldn’t safely step beyond the threshold of their front door. Teri and Janet unpacked the groceries. Phil stayed in the living room, playing video games. He would’ve helped, but he knew Teri needed time to vent.

“Ta-da.” Janet made a sweeping supermodel gesture at a brand-new twenty-four-pack of toilet paper.

“Damn,” said Teri, “just how long do you think we’re going to be stuck in here?”

“I just assumed better safe than sorry.”

“Jeez, there has to be three cubic feet of Hot Pockets here.”

“Sorry about that,” said Janet. “But I wasn’t really sure if you liked to cook or not. So how are you holding up?”

“How do you think I’m holding up? Your boyfriend totally screwed us over.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” said Janet.

“He’s not? Then I suppose that necklace is just something you had laying around.”

Janet ran her fingers over the raccoon-headed emblem. “Okay, so maybe he’s more than just a fling. But I wouldn’t go so far as to call him my boyfriend.”

Teri smirked. “If that makes you feel better.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“What do you think I mean by that?” Teri opened the freezer and began theorizing on the complex geometric principles necessary to fit all the frozen meals in the limited space available.

“Oh, no,” said Janet. “You don’t get away with that. Not when I risked life and limb to bring you the creature comforts.”