Work.

I don’t hate it. I just don’t like it. I’m lucky that I’m not flipping burgers or asking people if they brought their own bags. Instead I’m cleaning out cages at the animal shelter. A lot of the animals are cute, but it makes me sad to see them all caged up, hoping for people to take them home and take care of them. 

It’s a no-kill shelter, so at least I don’t have to see any of them euthanized. I don’t think I could deal with that. Get to know an animal, just to see it killed because no one wants it. That would break my heart.

Except maybe Bryce. That is the meanest cat I have ever seen. I pity the poor sap who eventually adopts him. But I’m kidding myself. I couldn’t stand to see him put down, either.

📎 📎 📎

I know she’s out there before I open the door. I guess it’s good to know that she can’t sneak up on me.

“Weren’t you going to give me until tomorrow?” I ask.

“You didn’t say that, she says, “ You just said you needed some time.”

She’s right. I meant that I’d tell her tomorrow, but I didn’t actually say it. Dang it. I haven’t come up with what I want her to do for me yet. Think, me, think.

“So all I have to do is let you hang around every once in a while, right?” I ask.

“Pretty much.”

“Pretty much?”

“I mean, I might ask you to do other things at some point. But I’m not asking you to commit to anything but the hanging around part.”

I guess that’s reasonable.

“I don’t know,” I say. I’m stalling. Then it hits me. I’ve been being an idiot.

“Wait,” I say, “That really was you on Saturday, right?”

She nods.

“I want you to do that for me.”

“Do what?”

“You asked why I’m not Maggie. Well, make me Maggie.”

She deflates. “I can’t do that,” she says.

“You don’t have to do it right now. Just promise me you will when you win the bet and go back.”

“I wish I could, but I’ll be even less able to, then. We can’t affect the world like that. That’s not how we work. I’m sorry.”

And now I feel like even more of an idiot than I did a minute ago.

“Fine. Get Gina Hale to date me.”

“What?” She looks shocked.

“She’s in our English class. I’ve had a crush on her since middle school. Get her to date me.”

“You want me to mess with somebody’s mind?” She’s gone expressionless.

“What?” It’s my turn to be shocked, “No. No. I mean, no. Wait, could you do that? No, I don’t want to know. Just, no.”

“Then?”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” I ask, “You’re a hot girl,” I raise a hand to hold her off when she starts to interrupt. “If you make friends with her, and start talking me up, maybe she’ll think I’m worth dating.”

“First,” she says, “Good, I’m glad you aren’t asking me to do something evil. Second, “she continues. ”I’m not a girl. I’m a god.”

“You look like a girl. That’s what people care about. Trust me.”

“Fine. Do we have a deal?”

I reach out my hand to shake. She reaches for it, then pulls back.

“Wait,” she says,”You need to understand that this is a binding deal. You can’t back out once it’s made.”

“I won’t.”

“I know you won’t. That’s what I’m saying. If you make the deal you won’t be able to back out.”

That’s a little scary. But it’s not much of a deal.

“I agree that if you get Gina Hale to date me, without ‘messing with her mind’, you can hang out around me now and then as long as you are mostly mortal.”

“And I agree to try to get Gina Hale to date you, but I will not lie to her to do it, or ‘mess with her mind.”’

When we shake hands, a burst of warmth surges up my arm, permeating my body.

It takes me a moment to let go. 

📎 📎 📎

I have to shower and get ready for bed as soon as I get home. I stink after a shift mucking out the cages. I feel a little rush of embarrassment. I hadn’t thought about that when I was standing there talking to Alex. 

I shower with the lights out, except for a little blue nightlight in the outlet by the lightswitch. It’s enough light that I’m not going to hurt myself, but not enough that I can get a good look at myself. I don’t need that.

Like most times when I shower at night, I debate whether or not to shave. If I shave now, I get to go to sleep with a smooth face. If I wait until morning, I’ll have a smooth face for more of the day. Also as usual, immediate gratification wins. 

A much cleaner and smoother me climbs into bed right on time.

📎 📎 📎

When I pull into the parking lot at school, the perfect parking space, the best one in the entire lot, is sitting there empty, waiting for me. I set my parking brake (I’m not going to make that mistake again) and look up to see Alex watching me from a few feet in front of the car. Maybe having a god on my side will have its perks. But I don’t get it.

“How did you do it?” I ask her, “I don’t think parking places count as small office supplies. Do they?”

“I didn’t do it.” she says. 

At least she doesn’t pretend to not know what I’m talking about.

“Then how?”

“I think I’d rather not say. Maybe I’ll tell you next time we talk.”

I glare at her.

“Hey, it gives you a little extra incentive to keep me around.”

“I thought I didn’t have a choice.”

“You’re a smart—” she stops herself, then continues, “person. You’ll figure it out.”

She doesn’t follow me when I start for the building. I guess she got her fix.  I glance back over my shoulder, and, for just an instant, I’d swear she was talking to a woman wearing all white. But I blink and she clearly isn’t.

📎 📎 📎

By the time I get to class, I do figure it out. We didn’t set a specific amount of time she gets to hang around me. So in theory I still have something over her. On the other hand, we didn’t set a time limit on her helping me either. If I want it to happen soon, I shouldn’t antagonize her. Actually, it’s probably not a great idea to antagonize a god anyway, even if she is mostly mortal right now. Maybe it would be fine, but I don’t think I want to find out.

📎 📎 📎

I’m back at work. At least the cages are cleaner than they were yesterday. Shauna, who works Tuesday nights, is not as thorough as me. She doesn’t exactly do a bad job, but she doesn’t do a good job, either. 

I finish up a little early. That gives me twenty minutes on the clock to get a little bit ahead on my homework. I don’t have to clock out until my shift is officially over. It’s a better deal than any of my friends with jobs get, as far as I know. I try to be grateful for the small things.

I stop with my hand on the knob of the door to the office. She’s in there. Okay, we may have to set some limits on her hanging around. I consider hanging out in the back until my shift is over. 

“Why are you here?” I ask, swinging the door open.

“I thought we established that,” Alex answers. Or at least responds.

“I mean right here, right now,” I indicate the office.

“So did I. I needed to recharge.”

“Recharge what, exactly? Some kind of energy.”

“You don’t have a word for it. I guess you could call it energy, if you don’t mind being basically completely wrong.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

She shrugs.

“Anyway, the Goddess of the Parking Places.”

It takes me a second. I don’t think of myself as all that dense, but that is a pretty abrupt shift in the conversation.

“Really? There’s a goddess of parking places?”

“The parking places, and yes. She likes you, by the way. You almost always park very carefully and make sure you’re in the lines.You sometimes even thank her.”

“Why are you so hung up on exact names?”

“I don’t know, Danny, why do you think?”

When I was little, I liked being called Danny. I could pretend they were calling me Dani; that my real name was Danielle, not Daniel. When I hit puberty things changed. I mean, obviously, it’s puberty, but instead of reminding me of what could have been, it reminded me of what couldn’t be. I insisted everyone call me Daniel. Not even Dan. Just Daniel.

That’s why if I’d had the guts to transition, I would have changed my name to something other than Danielle. Danielle had betrayed me. In my heart, I’m Magdalena. I’m also pissed. She must know how much I hate that.

“That one was just a guess,” she says.

I don’t think she’s lying. Not telling the absolute complete truth, but whoever does? I guess my anger was pretty clear on my face.

“Don’t you have someplace to be?” I ask.

“Not in particular,” she says.

Wait. Where has she been staying? If she’s mostly mortal, she must be sleeping somewhere.  Questions race through my head. Did she get a family when she incarnated? A history? How is she registered at school? What is she eating if she doesn’t have any money? What if someone steals her penny? Will she be stuck? Does she have a last name?

She’s watching my face. Smirking.

“I was wondering when you’d think of that. I bet you thought of a bunch of other questions, too,” she stops me before I can interrupt. “One question per session, remember.”

I don’t remember any such thing. Before I can say so, she’s out the door.

“See you at school,” she says.

Then she’s gone.