Divine Misfortune

He paused to concentrate on blasting an onslaught of meteors.

“Anyway, you and your lovely wife whose name escapes me at this moment in time…”

“Teri.”

“Thanks. When you and Teri signed on to follow me, you invited good fortune into your home. And when you let me leave, I took that fortune with me. I didn’t want to. It just left with me because that’s how it works.”

“You couldn’t make it stay behind?”

“Nope. See, that’s a common misconception you mortals have about us gods. Just because we’re divine that doesn’t mean we’re all-powerful. We have limits. We don’t like to advertise that, but it’s true.” He sniffed the air. “Is that anchovies I smell? I think our pizza is up.”

Lucky’s nose was right. They found a table in front of the animatronic animal band. The drummer was a robotic raccoon, and Lucky frowned.

“The drummer never scores. At least he’s doing better than the octopus with the tambourines.” He raised his glass to the cephalopod. “I feel for you, pal.”

The pizza was a lukewarm bread disk slathered with tomato paste and cheese. Lucky helped himself to the first slice.

“You’re not going to have any?” he asked.

“I don’t like anchovies.”

“More for me then.”

Lucky picked the little fish off a slice and devoured them. Then he put the cleaned slice on a plate and slid it before Phil. Phil took a bite. It wasn’t very good, still retaining a bit of salty anchovy flavor. But he was hungry, and he didn’t want to insult Lucky.

“Why didn’t you warn us what would happen?” Phil asked.

“I find a demonstration makes the point so much better than mere explanation.” Lucky flashed a smile. “Plus, I’m a god. I’m allowed to be petty. You can’t tell me you weren’t honestly expecting a little wrath. You’re fortunate you didn’t try to pull that a few hundred years ago. Back then, I probably would’ve dropped a meteor on your house. Lucky for you I’ve mellowed over the centuries.”

His eyes twinkled, and Phil found himself forgiving Lucky.

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay?” Lucky asked. “You came to me, after all. I wouldn’t have even been there if you hadn’t signed up.”

“No reason.”

“Riiiight.” Lucky said, “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s cool. But I already figured it was Teri’s call, right?”

“No.” Phil took a long drink of his soda. “It was me.”

“That’s sweet, kid. Don’t know many people who would risk divine wrath to protect their spouse. But don’t bother lying. I saw it in her eyes. She’s reluctant.”

Phil tried denying it, but Lucky wasn’t buying it.

“Her grandfather was killed by wrath.”

“Say no more. I understand. Being reluctant is fine. It shows she’s smart. I never trust mortals who are too eager to follow. Means they don’t take the responsibilities seriously.”

“She’s okay then?”

“Depends. Do I have her permission to crash at your place?”

“Yes.”

“Terrific, but just to make things official, I’ll need to hear it from her. Have your cell handy?”

“The battery’s dead.”

“Check again.”

Phil wasn’t surprised to see the phone fully charged. He dialed and asked for Teri. Lucky took the phone before she picked up. That made Phil nervous. She wanted the bad luck fixed, but he wasn’t certain she would agree to this. Her behavior over the course of this entire thing had been unpredictable. First against it, then for it. Then against it. If he explained the situation to her, how it worked, he was positive she’d allow Lucky into their home. That’s why he wanted to talk to her first.

“Teri,” said Lucky. “How’s it going?”

He turned his back and walked out of eavesdropping range. Phil nibbled on a slice of pizza and waited. The conversation took longer than a simple yes would’ve required. Lucky did most of the talking.

He returned. “Great news. She’s in.”

Lucky convinced Phil to blow off work and take the rest of the afternoon off. It wasn’t like Phil, but the god offered a wink and a smile accompanied by his trademark finger snap/gun-imitation point, and Phil found himself agreeing. They finished their meal, then played video games.

As gods went, Lucky seemed fairly laid-back. A teenager jumped ahead of him at a Whack-A-Mole game. Lucky didn’t say anything, but Phil noticed that the machines started eating the teen’s tokens afterward. Phil wondered if it was an intentional affliction or just a side effect of the prosperity god’s displeasure. Either way, it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, a small misery for a small transgression.

As they were leaving, Lucky said, “I almost forgot. Mind if I use your phone to call Tom and let him know I’m moving out?”

“Will he be upset?” asked Phil. “Won’t you take his fortune with you if you leave?”

“That’s what I like about you, kid. You think about others. Most everyone else wouldn’t even consider that. You’re good people.”

Phil smiled. It was nice to get a compliment, and since it was coming from his god, it had to count for a few extra points of karma.

“Don’t worry about Tom,” said Lucky. “He’ll set up an altar. I’ll be moving out, but I won’t be leaving. Not in the metaphorical sense.”

“Why do you want to move out anyway?”

“Tom’s a good guy,” replied Lucky, “but he lives in Varney, Wisconsin. Ever heard of Varney?”

“No.”

“Exactly. Nobody has. It’s not a good place for a god to regain his popularity. Plus there’s nothing to do there. And the cheese… it’s not as good as you’d expect.”

Lucky walked away as he placed his call.

Phil wandered outside and waited for Lucky to finish. The day was beautiful. He had a good feeling about the future. His god wasn’t prestigious or all-powerful, but Lucky seemed like a good god to have. Neither judgmental nor a pushover, but easygoing and low-maintenance.

He stepped in some gum. At first thinking that good fortune had deserted him, he noticed that a hundred-dollar bill was stuck with it. He peeled it off. The gum came off easily, too. Things were looking up.

A squirrel scampered before him. The odd animal was dark red with black spots. It had big blue eyes. Unusually large, it seemed. But Phil didn’t know enough about squirrels to know for sure.

It batted its eyes and cocked its head at a lovable angle.

“Hi, little fella. Aren’t you friendly?”

The squirrel stood, leaning against his leg. Its ears tilted forward. He reached down to scratch its head. The squirrel nipped at his finger, drawing blood. Phil jumped back, and the tiny spotted predator crouched. Its ears flattened. Its tail bristled. It snarled, showing razor-sharp yellow teeth. Its body tightened in preparation to spring.

Lucky stepped out of the pizzeria. The squirrel narrowed its eyes and hissed like a snake. Phil may not have known much about squirrels, but that had to be unusual. The god transformed into a two-hundred-pound timber wolf, retaining his raccoon head and tail, although his snout was elongated and canine. The squirrel turned and ran. Lucky gave chase.

“It’s okay!” shouted Phil. “It was just a little bite!”

The squirrel darted under a car in the parking lot, and Lucky scrambled after it. Phil jogged down the row of cars, trying to keep pace with the pursuit. The lot wasn’t very full. There was nowhere for the squirrel to hide. It ducked and weaved, avoiding Lucky’s snapping jaws. The squirrel veered off and headed back toward Phil.

“Oh, crap.”

The squirrel charged. Its narrow eyes focused on either his throat or his crotch. He couldn’t tell for sure, but either possibility seemed unpleasant. The rabid rodent leaped.

It was the throat. Phil was simultaneously relieved and terrified.

Lucky grabbed the squirrel by the tail and whipped it away. The rodent landed on its feet and whirled to continue the attack. Lucky transformed into a raccoon-headed bear. He stepped between the squirrel and Phil.