Modern Goddess: Trapped by Thor (Book One) (4 page)

I didn't have that problem. None of my
powers were of the overtly obvious kind. My power came from within
– and while I used my senses to gather information, the true
divinity of it sat within my ability to hold onto facts with all
the power of a god. Yes, I had ice-white hair that could – if I
wanted it to – glitter like Arctic tundra under full sun. Apart
from that, I was normal looking. I had glasses – and how normal are
they? Very normal.

Thor, though he wasn't dressed in his armor
from Asgard, hardly looked normal. He was around 6'5 and was built
with all the obvious strength of a warrior of old. He had his
golden beard and shoulder-length hair – though they didn't glitter
at the moment.

He was dressed in jeans and – of all things
– a Led Zeppelin T-shirt (he was going for a grunge-god thing).

He still drew everyone's attention. Jeans
and a T-shirt were not enough to hide his powerful proportions, nor
the powerful look in his eyes. A look that grew sharper as it met
mine. “Details, Details,” he clicked his tongue, “You have attacked
me from behind – an undignified and cowardly move.”

I stared up at him, almost having to crane
my neck. “I didn’t attack you,” I said quietly, not wanting to
launch into a full-blown god-domestic on an ordinary city street.
“I bumped into you.”

Thor kinked a lip and snickered coldly. “I
assume this is all the attack you could muster – while some gods
wield a fiery sword of doom, you bump into people from behind to
command their attention.”

I stared back at him, looking purposefully
dumb. For all his god-like power, Thor often didn't make sense. His
booming voice and predilection for powerful prose combined to make
his speech odd. He couldn't ask you for a pen – he had to point
dramatically at it and request “A sword of writing,” or a “Means to
enable victory over the scroll.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t on purpose
accidentally bump into you, Tho—“ I stopped myself from saying his
name in time. “I bumped into you. You realize that can happen on
Earth, don't you?” I crossed my arms and stared up at him. “I hope
you don't accuse old ladies of attempting to mount vicious rear
assaults on you with their rods of power when they knock into you
with their walking sticks.” I kept my expression
challenging.

“
They are human.” Thor
crossed his own arms – and it was a far more impressive move than
mine. I could make out the detail of every bulging muscle along his
forearms – from the change in skin tone, to the varying shapes, to
the way they caught the light. “You are not.”

This wasn't the first time I'd stupidly run
into Thor down on Earth – though this was the first time I’d
literally run into him. He was always the same – though depending
on which god he was, he'd be dressed differently. The man – the god
– behind the guise was always the same. Zeus tended to swan around
– hilariously – in a white set of pants and a polo shirt like some
sort of Greek yachting tycoon. Jupiter would wear an impeccable
black suit with a simple gold chain around his neck like an
oily-haired Italian mob boss.

Thor was the most sedate of the forms:
jeans, a T-shirt, and big boots.

“
Details,” Thor tipped his head
back, the dying rays of the sun glinting off his hair, “You are
staring. And staring does not win battles – only action does. If
you are going to follow up on your pathetic attack, I suggest you
do more than blink at me.”

“
Thor, stop it,” I said
firmly. I sucked in a quick breath when I realized what I’d
done.

A grin spread across his face. “Isn't that
breaking a rule, Details?”

I groaned. I’d broken a rule, he was
right. It wasn't such an important rule, but it was one
nonetheless. You were not meant to draw any attention to an
under-disguise god while on Earth, which included not using their
real name. The people around me were hardly going to pick up on it
– they would assume it was a fun and appropriate nickname for the
Nordic giant with the golden beard and flowing hair – but it was
still not something I was meant to do.

Thor could get away with calling me Details
because it wasn't my name.

“
Will they take away your
job for this?” Thor said with a wide and victorious
smile.

I dearly wanted to smack the blighter in the
face, though I'd have to run into a café and get a stool to help me
reach high enough. “I will be reprimanded,” I replied. “If you are
done pretending I’m trying to engage you in glorious battle on a
quiet city street – I have things to do.”

Thor considered me, and I could tell he was
dreaming up insults. “Things to do? You mean go home to feed your
cat, correct?”

I glared at him.

“
Details, what an exciting life
you live. A small house without any battlements, turrets, secret
treasure rooms, or warriors. Instead of a mighty white steed, you
have a small meowing creature that smells of fish. You are a credit
to your kind.” Thor kept his arms crossed but looked pleased – at
himself. He smiled in that private way people do when they are
sharing a joke with their best buddy, Ego.

“
Fine,” I said firmly, not
wanting to be drawn into this conversation. Yes, I was aware that
when Thor wasn't being Janus, Urs, or Sven – or whatever normal
human name he had adopted this time – he was living out his time in
Asgard or Olympus. Me, when I wasn't in the office, I was in a
simple cottage with only one measly space-time rift and one
un-horse-like cat.

“
Don't tell me, you have an
exciting night planned eating a plain dinner, sitting on a plain
chair, and reading a plain book.” Thor chuckled to
himself.

I was growing less and less patient with
this conversation. I dearly wanted to pick Thor up, roll him into a
ball, and throw him into the rubbish. Fat chance though.

“
Details, what a boring life
you lead,” he noted again, tone far colder. “You shun your own kind
for the comfort of a weather report.”

His words cut sharper than they usually
did, that, or what he was saying resonated more closely this
time.

I didn't shun my own kind. I was a goddess,
and day-in day-out I dealt with other gods and goddesses. While I
might not frequent any of the god bars or other divine gathering
places, I didn't shun the others. I led a quiet life of solitude –
not drunken parties and debauchery.

I backed off. “Good bye,” I said curtly and
made to walk around the Nordic giant.

Thor snorted but didn't stop me.

As I walked past him, I could feel his
eyes on me. For someone who lost herself in the details, I had the
presence of mind to notice when others were doing the same. It was
the other side of my power. Not only did details live and come
alive for me, I stood for that effect in other people. Every time a
scientist or an artist found themselves drawn into the lines of
data or the fine play of shadow on a canvas, a part of me was
there.

So, paradoxically, I shared a moment with
him as I walked past – not that the great big, blond-bearded lug
would notice. Axes, wine, women, and victory were all he resonated
with.

As I walked the rest of the way home, I
tried to forget Thor's admonishment that I shunned my own kind. The
more I tried to suppress it, the more it rose in my mind. I could
remember the exact quality of his tone, the exact feeling of his
words as I heard them.

I was happy in solitude – that was the
correct answer. This was my life, and it was how I lived it. For
every god of power and victory, there was a god of weakness and
defeat. Then there were all the in-between gods – like me – who
were neither. If I chose to spend the night with a cat on my lap
and a small china bowl of boysenberry-swirl ice cream, that was my
prerogative.

I became lost in thought, and I walked
straight into someone again. This time I didn't bounce back like
I’d struck an immovable object. I walked into this man as though he
were nothing more than paper flapping in the wind.

He stumbled forward but managed to keep his
balance.

“
Oh my gosh,” I stuttered,
putting out a hand to stable the man, “I’m sorry, sir.”

He looked up at me with a set of watery
eyes, and I realized he wasn't a sir at all – he was Tolus, God of
Barely Enough. “Oh. It's you.”

Tolus nodded lowly. “I’m sorry for being in
your way,” he said, sounding unmistakably genuine.

“
Not at all – I was the one who
wasn't looking where I was going. My fault.” I let go of his arm
when it was clear he wasn't going to fall over – yet. The
continually sickened, weakened look of his body hardly gave you
confidence he could bear something as simple as standing for long.
“Please forgive me,” I added with a smile.

It was getting old-hat for Tolus to be
walked into by gods today, but I was eager to be more polite to the
guy than Thor had been. Not all gods were arrogant jerks.

Tolus nodded and teetered on the spot as if
he were about to fall over. Thankfully he didn't, and he returned
his head to an even level, patting a thin hand down his dirty
shirt. He was wearing an old pair of beige pants and a frayed grey
shirt. He still had his scraggly beard and dark hair and those
watery, watery eyes. “Please, do not worry. I forgive you.” He
managed a smile.

I couldn't help but smile back – and I
knew for sure that both our smiles were qualitatively different
from the harsh grin that usually spread across Thor/Jupiter/Zeus’
arrogant visage. Ours were genuine, light, friendly.

Tolus nodded a second time then stepped
back gently. “I should not take up any more of your
time.”

I was the one who’d walked into him and
interrupted his time, and yet he was the one apologizing for it. I
shook my head. “It's not your fault at all. You aren't wasting my
time. I was off to get some food,” I said the word food carefully,
looking at Tolus’ starved form. If there was anything this guy
needed, it was food. That and a shower, a new set of clothes,
sleep, some money, some sunlight, some friends, and a place to
stay. He was the God of Barely Enough – there was a lot he could do
with.

I hardly fraternized with the gods I dealt
with through the Integration Office while I was on Earth. To me,
being on Earth meant living amongst the humans and doing precisely
what they did: getting take out, painting your picket fence white,
and planting roses in your garden. But Thor's accusation came to
mind: my willingness to integrate with the humans led to the
appearance I was shunning the company of my own kind.

I bit my lips. “What are you doing? I was
about to grab a bite to eat – you are welcome to join me.”

Tolus’ watery eyes grew more watery. They
reminded me of rain dribbling down glass. “Food?”

I nodded, wanting to tell him that, yes,
it was okay to eat. But that wasn't what he was the divinity of,
was it? He was hardly the god of “Let's go out and get some nice
pizza and ice cream.” He was the god of “Let's go find what food we
can from the bins behind shopping centers and
restaurants.”

“
I... I suppose I’m new to this
city. It is my first time here, you know,” he admitted with a lost
look.

Yes, I did know that. I’d read his file.
The fact it was his first time here was hardly a good thing. I
stopped short of asking him what business he was on – he was
probably intending to visit the homeless people living in the storm
drains underneath the city before heading off to whatever refugee
camps he planned on visiting.

“
I could show you around,” I
offered uncharacteristically. Thor was right about me in one
respect: I was the goddess who went home every night to bake
herself a simple meal and enjoy a few hundred books by the
fireside. Yet here I was offering to spend the night instead
showing around a gaunt god of Barely Enough.

“
Oh, that would be nice. I get
lost sometimes. I have many people to visit tonight.”

I realized what I had agreed to, but it was
already too late.

“
If we go collect the food
you spoke of, we can hand it out to the needy.” Tolus’ gaunt face
took on an other-worldly glow as he spoke.

Tolus was the god of Barely Enough, and he
lived in the moments of giving people enough to survive. The
thought of it, the action of it made him divine.

While I was not the goddess of Barely
Enough, I could hardly back out. While it was true I found peculiar
comfort in the weather report, skipping it for one night to hand
out food to the needy was hardly going to kill me.

Plus, it would show Thor I didn’t shun the
company of my own kind. Far from it. I assisted where assistance
was needed. While Thor would be swanning around some god-bar with
any number of goddess bimbos hanging off his arms, I would be
helping the needy.

“
Sure,” I said gently,
“Where do you need to go?”

“
We can begin with the storm
drains – from what I feel, there are many in need down there, some
critically. There are also various shelters and alleys....” The
look on Tolus’ face hardened with determination – an odd, strong,
different determination worlds apart from the arrogance of victory.
Though he was hunched, thin, gaunt, and sickly looking, he looked
like a god. The appearance no longer mattered. The form seemed
inconsequential. The energy behind it was divine.

“
Okay, you let me know where
you need to go, and I can take you there.” I could easily take him
anywhere. I wouldn't need to look at a map, either – I knew the
details of this town. I knew each street, each storefront, each
alley, each tunnel. I could remember the details of every city map
I’d seen, and the places I’d been were lodged in my memory with
perfect clarity.