[Fourth writing day in a row with over 2,000 words. It's a bit tiring, and other things are falling to the side a little bit, so I don't know how much I'll be able to sustain this. Other demands may become too pressing for me to keep this pace, but it sure is fun.
[Once again, I really don't know how this is all going to end, but it's exciting for me to see the pieces start to show up that, I already know, will give me the answers I need at the end of the book. Spots of conversation, small objects, seemingly unimportant actions are poking out here and there, and I think, "I can use this! This is going to be useful."
[Writing really is a miracle. I hope this turns into a novel by the end, but right now I'm just excited to be spending time with these characters.]
The room where I fail to dispense miracles has a pretty minimal decor. From what I've heard, under the last god to spend time here, it had been all candles and smoking incense and strange, vaguely African artwork. BB had taken all that down before I'd even arrived, and I appreciated his effort. Instead I sat down in all the modern luxury a bare-bones budget could buy, and smiled as my faithful came in one at a time.
The Orange brothers asked for wealth, as usual, though one of them--could have been Larry, though I think it was Ted--asked for health for his goldfish. Apparently Little Magellan had been a bit wobbly in his swim the last week or so. I told either Ted or Larry that I'd do what I could, and he smiled and told me he knew I would.
Tanice Menlow asked for help for her boy in school--not that Tanor was doing badly. In fact, he was doing great, but it was coming up on advanced placement testing season, and she wanted him at his best. I'd met Tanor, and he had shook my hand very politely, clearly uninterested in the fact that I was a god. I'd actually liked him even better for that. I pulled out my old phrase that I'd do what I could, and Tanice told me she knew I would.
Cheryl Zerbeki asked for help with some embarrassingly personal feminine issues. I looked as serious as I could, blinked, and told her the usual.
Then Janice Bronson came in with her boyfriend, and they sat down in the carpeted chairs across from me.
"We're getting married," she told me, smiling over at the boyfriend.
"That's wonderful!" I said, sitting up straighter. "When's the day?"
"I don't know yet," said Janice. "Elvis here hasn't said 'yes' yet."
I looked back and forth between the smiling couple. "So Elvis hasn't proposed?"
"No," said the oldest of my faithful, "but I have. Seven times now!"
Elvis looked at me, leaning forward a little. "I tell her it's the man who's supposed to do it, but Janice has all these modern ideas. There's no dealing with the woman." Then he turned and smiled at her, and it was clear to me at least that he intended to have that difficulty for as long as he possibly could.
I cleared my throat. "You'll have to tell me when it's official. We'll have a party for you."
"You'll do more than that," said Janice. "I want you to marry us."
I pulled back in my chair. "Hang on, Janice. I haven't performed any miracles at ALL, let alone a wedding miracle. It's nice of you to think of me, but I think we should find you another temple. I'll talk to my friend, Midnight--" I stopped and thought of Midnight Jane's temple, then reconsidered. Tumble Dry? Another definite no. Bagel Girl was a possibility though. She did run a bagel shop, but her normal temple was a lovely place on Washington. "No, not her. But I have another friend, a goddess who's much more experienced than I am. Her temple has a good view out onto the Round Park, and she'll perform an excellent miracle for you."
Janice looked out at me from her glasses and snorted. "No. It's you, Bradley. You're my god, and you'll be performing the wedding miracle."
"But why?" I asked, sagging into my chair. "Why me, Janice? You were one of the first to seek me out, and you've been coming ever since, but I haven't done a single miracle for you. Not one! And there's no guarantee I can do this one either. Why don't you just find another god?"
She looked at me for a long time. Her hair had thinned on top, so she'd started wearing the most outrageous hats--purple with bright-green print flowers, magenta with polkadots, polkadots with magenta--but this hat was surprisingly demure: it was only red stripes across a black background. It made her look more serious than usual, and for once the smile on her face faded away and her hat and face matched. As that went through my head, she looked at me, and I looked back.
Then she spoke.
"Life isn't all about what we do for each other, Bradley. Sometimes it's simply about who we are, and that can be enough. You are my god, and you have been, ever since I saw you wandering around helplessly, trying to find this place. That's when I knew that you were the one god who was exactly right for me. I hadn't found one before, and I know I certainly won't live long enough to find another, so you're it." She scooted forward in her chair and pointed her finger at me. "And you're going to marry Elvis and me in a week."
"That fast?"
"I'm old, Bradley. I don't have any time to waste."
Elvis straightened up. "A week, is it, Janice? I guess I'd better get around to proposing some time soon, hadn't I."
"All you have to do is say 'yes,' Elvis. I've done enough proposing for both of us."
He shook his head. "You know that's not how it's going to be. A man has a plan, and he's going to see it through. And I think we've taken up enough of this young god's time. Didn't you say he was set to be a ping pong champion this year?"
Ping pong! I checked my watch--still plenty of time before my practice with Tumble Dry. One of the advantages of having so few faithful was that petitions never took very long. I looked back up at Janice.
"That's happening this weekend, isn't it?" she asked.
I nodded. "Starts tomorrow night, actually, then all Friday, and the championship match is on Saturday."
"Will we be able to watch?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it. "I have some guest passes, but I was going to give those to my parents and my sister's family. I hope you don't mind."
Janice scooted forward in her chair and Elvis almost jumped to his feet to help her up. "No, I don't mind," she said as she stood. "You just be certain to win, all right? I've never quite liked the elder gods. Too snooty for my tastes. Give them a lickin'."
I stood up and saw them to the door. "Yes, ma'am," I said. "I'll lick them as best I can."
BB was waiting for me in the main hall. "You going to go practice with Tumble Dry?"
I nodded. "He's the only god in the place willing to play with me who gives me a real run for my money."
"I hear Western Moose is a solid player."
"He definitely is, but he's off to speak at a convention of Eastern gods, so he's not competing this year."
"Too bad!" said BB. "He'd be another solid entry for the new gods. Not that you need any more help. You're pretty much a lock for the championship, aren't you?"
I turned my hands palms up. "Who knows? There are enough gods in this club that I haven't even met half of them. Could be a few real players out there, and I know there are plenty of fast learners. If there's anything I've figured out in the last three years, it's to never count out the elder gods."
BB helped take off my robe and brushed away some imaginary lint. He looked thoughtful.
"What's up, my Chief Acolyte?"
He grimaced. "Bradley, I think I'd rather not be executed."
"I don't want that, either, and you know I'll do my best. At this point, we haven't even admitted that you took anything, so we're okay for now, I think."
"What if he calls up the Theological Crimes Division? They could be in here with a warrant in a heartbeat."
"And if they are, we'll deal with it then. For now, just don't steal anything else." I spoke with all the confidence I didn't feel, and, to my surprise, BB looked calmer for it.
"Thanks," he said. "Good luck with your practice. Also, watch out for Sage. I think her store's about to close."
I winced and decided to take the long way around.
Midnight Jane first noticed me when I was drawing. I had received my membership in the Eternal Rest and, after only a paltry three months, had worked up the courage to actually go there. I took one look at the front doors and almost turned around and left. The Eternal Rest has an old look to it, like someone had picked up a small piece of London, transported it across the ocean, and dropped it into the middle of a Midwestern city. It had the graceful gray stonework and arches, the weathered carvings of angels and demons, the warped glass panes that were the best they could manage four-hundred years ago. It was the total package on the outside, including the doors: a dark wood, deep brown to the point of being black, with iron bands and studs and doorknobs right in the center of the doors. It wasn't the kind of place that said 'come in.' It was more the sort of place that looked at your hair, glanced at your shoes, and dismissed you with a sniff.
I, of course, was not going to be put off by any mere architecture, so I promptly walked right past and found a bench near the Round Park. I pulled out my sketch pad and tried to catch the image of three children at play. One had a laugh like a calling peacock, and I started drawing fanning tail-feathers out of his backside.
"That's not terrible," Midnight Jane had said, leaning onto the back of the bench and looking over my shoulder. The first thing I noticed about her was her hair--black as her name. Then my eyes made their way to hers, and they were green, and I was in something that felt an awful lot like what I might, in some circumstances, have possibly described as love.
"Um," I said wittily.
"I noticed you looking at the Eternal Rest," she said, glancing between my picture and the playing children. "Is the one in the red shirt the peacock?" The kid laughed and Midnight Jane's mouth made a small 'o.'
"Yeah," I said. "That's the peacock."
She nodded and looked back at me. "Are you a god?"
I hesitated, still wearing my divinity like my father's oversized bathrobe. "Yes," I said finally, "though I'm still new."
Her eyebrows went up and she rolled her eyes--her striking eyes--just a little. "I have to tell you, that part was pretty obvious. They gave you your membership to the Rest? It came in the mail for me fifty years ago, and I almost threw it out."
"Me, too!" I said, turning my body more to face her. "I thought it was a credit card ad. Since I became a god, it seems like I get five times as many."
Midnight Jane nodded. "My Chief Acolyte keeps me on one of those 'no junk mail' lists. It's handy."
"I'll have to look into that," I said.
"You mean have your Chief Acolyte look into that?"
I swallowed. "Yeah. That's what I meant. I'm still not used to this god stuff."
She shrugged. "You'll get used to it. Just don't let it make you into a jerk, like me."
"I'm sure you're not a jerk," I told her. "You seem nice."
She smiled at me, and the bench tipped over sideways and dumped me flat on my back. It took me a moment to realize that I was actually still sitting in the exact position, looking at her eyes and feeling her smile batter at my heart.
"I think you must be the nice one," she said, and she stood up and held out her hand. "I'm Midnight Jane."
I stood up, shifted my sketchbook and pencils to my left, and shook with my right. "Bradley," I said.
"It's nice to meet you, Bradley. Come back to the club with me."
I walked with her, which, it turned out, wasn't going to be the last time I did what Midnight Jane told me to.
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Wedding miracles is a great idea.
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