Divine Misfortune (2010) (9 page)

Bonnie went to the break room and clocked in. Ms. Carter, the assistant manager, pulled her aside.

“I trust you are feeling better today, Bonnie.”

There was an accusation there. Carter was a stickler. Bonnie had been working at Books N’ More for four years now, and she’d
missed only one other day. It had just happened to be Carter’s first day as assistant manager. Now Bonnie was branded as a
slacker. Her nose piercing probably didn’t help, and she was pretty sure that her short hair qualified her as a potential
lesbian in Carter’s estimation.

“Much better,” Bonnie replied.

It was a bit of a lie. She wasn’t herself, but she was adjusting. The goddess had been right. Yesterday had been rough. Last
night, even rougher. This morning wasn’t so bad. She still felt the weight on her chest, the desire to surrender herself to
oblivion. But that wasn’t her. That was the goddess’s influence. Knowing that helped her to work around it.

Carter frowned, but she was always frowning. “Good, Bonnie. I hope we can trust you to be a reliable member of the Books N’
More family.”

“Yes, Ms. Carter.”

Her boss walked away in her standard kick-step mode of walking.

Bonnie discovered it wasn’t so easy to ignore Syph. The tattered goddess didn’t speak to Bonnie, didn’t follow her around.
She merely lurked in the store, walking down the aisles, having a latte at the in-store café, browsing the magazine rack,
and otherwise killing time like any other customer. But there were problems.

A customer threw a stack of bridal magazines on the counter while Bonnie was working the register.

“I need to return these,” the woman said.

“I’m sorry, we don’t take returns on magazines,” Bonnie replied. “It’s store policy.”

“But they’re defective.” The customer opened the top magazine and pointed to a random page. “Look!”

At first glance, the photo seemed fine. A closer inspection revealed the anomaly. The beautiful bride wasn’t quite so beautiful.
She had the perfect dress, the perfect hair, the perfect bouquet. But she was snarling, and the mascara around her watery
eyes was smudged.

Bonnie flipped through the pages. It only got worse. Article headlines reading “How to Poison That Cheating Bastard” and “Top
10 Reasons You’ll End Up Dying Alone” filled the magazine. Perfect photo brides frowned, then in later pictures became slouching
withered figures in frayed, stained dresses. The very worst was a two-page spread of a wedding where the groom had decided
to forgo his bride-to-be in favor of the maid of honor. Bonnie could understand that, but she did think it was a bit much
for the happy couple to consummate their love in the middle of the aisle while the guests looked on.

Modern Homes
magazine was full of photos of burning and crumbling houses. All the plants in the gardening magazines were dead. Bonnie
wisely chose not to open the
Kitten Fancier
magazine.

“I want my money back,” said the customer. “I don’t care what your policy is.”

“Yes, I see what you mean,” said Bonnie. “Just give me a moment.”

“Hey, Bonnie,” said Vince, “have you seen Carter?”

“I think she’s in her office.”

“Not there. I checked.” He leaned over the counter and rifled through the drawer beside her. “Have you at least seen the key
that unlocks the store radio station? I’m getting sick of listening to ’Copacabana’ over and over again.”

Barry Manilow’s crooning tragic tale was stuck on permanent replay. Although it seemed that every ten minutes or so Lola’s
end was a bit more tragic. Bonnie didn’t think that in the original version an earthquake opened up, swallowing the heartbroken
showgirl, the Copacabana, and a troop of orphaned Boy Scouts who just happened to be in the nightclub asking for directions
to a charity campout jamboree.

“Somebody at that radio station is going to lose their job,” said Vince.

She feigned ignorance.

After refunding the customer’s money and throwing the magazines away to dispose of the evidence, Bonnie sought out Syph, sitting
at the café.

Bonnie spoke through clenched teeth. “What are you doing?”

“I’d say I’m sorry, but you asked me not to do that anymore.”

The café clerk placed a cup of coffee before the goddess. “Here you go, ma’am. I’m afraid that all our dairy products have
spoiled, so it’s free.”

“Why, thank you. I prefer it black actually. Black like the endless night that inevitably engulfs and devours all mortal souls.”

Bonnie glanced around before leaning closer. “You can’t do this,” she whispered. “I work here.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Go away. Go home. If you can’t leave me alone then at least go back to my apartment and wait for me there.”

“There’s nothing to do there.” Syph sipped her drink. She frowned. “More bitter than I expected, but then again, it always
is.”

“May I speak with you a moment, Bonnie?” asked Carter. “If you’re not too busy chatting, that is.”

Bonnie plastered on a fake smile and turned from Syph.

“Have you seen this?” Carter held up a romance novel titled
Love’s Empty Promises.
The art was traditional except that the subjects weren’t particularly attractive. The long-haired hero was flabby and the
redheaded heroine was cross-eyed and hunchbacked. They had their backs turned to each other, and the real shame was that this
prevented them from noticing the cattle stampede rushing toward them.

“I think there’s something going on here.” Carter pointed over Bonnie’s shoulder at the goddess. “And I think it has to do
with that customer there. I don’t think she’s an ordinary woman.”

“Probably just a homeless person,” said Bonnie. “She could be dangerous. Let me take care of her. You’re far too valuable
to the store to risk—”

Carter pushed past Bonnie. “Excuse me, miss. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave the store.”

Syph took another sip. “I can’t do that. Not without her.”

Carter followed the goddess’s gaze to Bonnie.

“I can explain, Ms. Carter. I can. This is all just a misunderstanding.”

“No misunderstanding. I’m her goddess.”

“No, she’s not. She’s not! I didn’t solicit her, didn’t ask to be her follower.”

“You said hello,” observed Syph.

“I keep telling you that doesn’t count!”

The goddess shrugged.

Carter’s frown deepened. “Bonnie, the law prohibits Books N’ More from discriminating against anyone simply for their choice
of god or goddess—”

“She’s not my goddess!” said Bonnie with a bit more force than she’d intended.

Carter’s brow knit in a disapproving glare. The outburst would probably find its way into Bonnie’s employee file.

She pulled Carter closer and whispered, “This is only temporary. I’m taking steps to get rid of her.”

Carter’s jaw tightened. “The policy of Books N’ More is to foster a spirit of tolerance toward its employees and whatever
divine powers they choose to align themselves with, providing said alignment does not negatively affect their job performance.”
She held up the romance novel. “Does this look as if it is not affecting your work, Bonnie?”

“Look, I’ll take my break now,” said Bonnie.

Bonnie grabbed the book from Carter. It immediately burst into flame. She dropped it and beat it out with a defective magazine.

Carter cleared her throat.

“I’ll take an early lunch now,” said Bonnie with a smile.

“She’s coming with me, and when I get back, I’ll come back alone. It’ll all be fine. I promise!” She grabbed Syph’s hand,
ignoring the chill passing through her, and dragged the goddess toward the door.

There was a Burger Town just down the street. Bonnie ordered her lunch, then sat Syph down at a table.

“We need to have a talk,” said Bonnie. “I know you’re a goddess, and that by myself, I can’t get rid of you. But I think we
both know that I have a slam-dunk case for a restraining order with Divine Affairs. So why don’t you save me the trouble of
having to file with the court and—”

“It won’t save you. You don’t think you are the first to turn to Divine Affairs, do you?”

“But you have to follow the rulings of the court,” said Bonnie.

“You don’t get it, do you? Yes, if the court decreed it I would have to release you as my follower. But it takes time to bring
a case to the court, time for a ruling to be handed down. Several months at least. And none of my followers have ever lasted
that long.”

She sighed. A dove flew into the window beside them and broke its neck.

Bonnie stuffed a handful of fries into her mouth. Under Syph’s influence, they were cold and soggy. This was what Bonnie’s
life was going to be like for the foreseeable future. A constant barrage of metaphorical soggy fries. Not a single drop of
joy. Only unhappy endings. An endless depression that would eventually consume her soul.

“How many months do I have?” asked Bonnie.

“Four, perhaps five,” said Syph. “One lasted almost six before losing the will to live. His heart just stopped beating, and
he turned to stone. Shame about that one. I rather liked him.”

Bonnie put her head on the table and almost cried. Almost.

“No!” She sat up and slammed her palms on the table. “I’m not giving in! I’m not going to sit here and let you kill me!”

Syph opened her eyes in startled surprise. It was the first time Bonnie had seen Syph appear anything other than depressingly
resigned.

“There has to be a way to fix this,” said Bonnie. “Mortals have defied the gods successfully before.”

“Not in a very long time. The Age of Legends has long passed. A shame. They were brighter days.”

Syph smiled and sighed wistfully. Bonnie braced herself for another dead bird or icy wind or symbolic spontaneous combustion.
Instead, the dark cloud hiding the sun moved to one side and allowed a few warm rays to shine down on Bonnie and her goddess.
The moment didn’t last. The cloud jumped back into its solar-interception duties, and a roach crawled out from under Bonnie’s
burger bun.

She flicked it away. “What just happened?”

“Hmmm?”

“I felt better all of a sudden.” Bonnie took a bite of a fry. It was still tasteless, but there was a little crispiness. “And
so were you. Don’t deny it. I saw you smile.”

“Maybe I did. Aren’t I allowed a smile every so often? Must I always be dour?”

“I don’t know. Mustn’t you? You are a goddess of tragedy and hopelessness, aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t always.” Syph spoke in a low embarrassed tone. “A long time ago… well, I suppose that’s not important anymore.”

She slouched, and a crack split the window. “It’s not worth talking about.”

Bonnie wasn’t so sure about that.

“Gods can change their province?” she asked. “I didn’t think you could do that.”

Syph nodded.

“So why don’t you just change then? You obviously aren’t happy as the goddess of tragedy.”

“It doesn’t work like that. I can’t choose to change. It’s not something I control.”

“How?”

“It’s not important. I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Oh no. You don’t get off the hook that easy.”

Syph arched her eyebrows in surprise.

“It was such a long time ago, I hardly remember it, when I wasn’t what I now am.” A reluctant smile crossed Syph’s face. The
cloud scooted over to allow half the sun to shine.

Bonnie bit into her burger, after checking for roaches, and discovered it wasn’t absolutely terrible. It wasn’t good, but
she didn’t want to spit it out. She was grasping for any possible solution to her goddess problem. At the very least, it eased
her suffering to get Syph to talk about it. That had to mean something.

“You dragged me into this,” said Bonnie. “You owe me.”

“I don’t see how it’s relevant.”

Bonnie smiled mirthlessly. “Indulge me.”

Syph thought about this a moment, and it must have brightened her day because the cloud vanished from the sky in a puff.

“It’s funny. No one has ever asked me about this before. No one ever cared.”

Bonnie didn’t care either. Not about the goddess anyway. But if it made Syph feel better about herself and made Bonnie’s life
better in the process, she was perfectly willing to play along. She reached across the table and patted Syph’s hand. It was
cold, but not as cold as before.

“You wouldn’t know it to look at me,” said Syph, “but I was once the goddess of love. I brought only joy and hope to all around
me, made the world a more beautiful place. Everything I touched was brightened by my presence, and my favor was coveted by
king and peasant alike.

“But my influence didn’t end with mortals. I was courted by all the best gods. The most powerful of deities sought my company.
There wasn’t a god I couldn’t seduce with merely a demure smile and a coy glance.”

Bonnie studied the colorless, icy goddess sitting across from her. It was hard to imagine.

“And I dated them all,” said Syph. “From the most insignificant mortal to the most powerful of the divine. I gleefully spread
my joy across the heavens and Earth without care, and should have done so until the end of time.”

“So what happened?”

Syph sighed. The cloud came back, bigger and blacker than ever.

“I fell in love.”

Bonnie waited for further explanation, but Syph just sat there. She bit her lower lip as a single bloodred tear ran down her
cheek.

“I don’t understand,” said Bonnie. “Shouldn’t that have been a good thing?”

Syph chortled. Or tried to. But all that came out of her tight throat was a strangled grunt.

“Would it serve a goddess of death to die herself? Or a goddess of war to see the world of mortals consumed in nuclear holocaust?
The needs and welfare of gods doesn’t rely solely on a singular motivation.”

“Hadn’t thought of it like that,” admitted Bonnie.

“Few mortals do. You think it’s easy to be a god. But we are as fallible and foolish as mortals. Perhaps even more so, since
our immortality often leads to boredom, and boredom leads to recklessness. And it’s easy to be reckless when immortality usually
keeps us from having to deal with the consequences of our actions.” She laughed again, bitterly. The cloud rumbled, growing
to cover half the sky.