Dogs and Goddesses

by Jennifer Crusie

  “Do not grieve, my goddess,” Mina said, drawing closer. “For I am faithful, and the Worthams are strong, and we will stay by you until the others learn—”

  Kammani lifted her head, a new focus for her anger in front of her. “Why must the others learn, Mina?”

  Mina stopped, confused.

  “Samu asked why we needed posters and auditions. If millions of people called my name, why are they not here, worshiping me?”

  Mina’s eyes slid left, and Kammani thought, You stupid little bitch.

  “COME TO ME,” Kammani said, and Mina came to her and stood before her. “WHERE ARE THOSE WHO CALLED ME?”

  “Well.” Mina drew a deep breath. “I looked into that because I thought they just couldn’t find the temple. And when I couldn’t find any of them, I Googled for your name.”

  Kammani frowned, her rage momentarily sidetracked. “Googled?”

  “It’s…” Mina frowned. “Well, one thing it is, is a way of finding out what people are looking for. So I Googled for ‘Kammani.’ And there’s a place in India, and a song on YouTube, and some stuff in foreign alphabets that I couldn’t read, but there wasn’t anything about … you.” She stopped again, and Kammani felt her heart beat faster.

  “So no one is looking for me,” she said. “Then where are all the people who called my name?”

  Mina shifted.

  “MINA.”

  “Well…” Mina swallowed. “Since I couldn’t find anything under ‘Kammani,’ I tried ‘Kami.’ My mother said that was also your name, one that your worshipers of old used, and I really think it’s much better than Kammani; that’s why I put it on the posters—”

  “Mina.“

  Mina smiled weakly. “Did you know it’s Japanese for ‘Divinity’?”

  “No one was looking for Kami, either?” Kammani said, feeling hollow, as if a desert were trying to open inside her.

  “No, they were,” Mina said. “Kind of. The first search on the page was for Kami. But it wasn’t you.” She closed her eyes and spoke very fast. “Two famous Hollywood stars had a baby and named it Camisole, but they call her Cami and over a million people misspelled it and typed it into the search engine as ‘Kami. … ’ ” She looked helpless for the first time since Kammani had met her.

  “I don’t understand,” Kammani said.

  “They didn’t call your name,” Mina said. “You were Googled here by accident.”

  “Accident?” Kammani said, still trying to understand.

  “Nobody knows who you are,” Mina said. “You’re a … typo.”

  The desert opened, a bleak emptiness that filled her entire being, even though she didn’t know what a typo was.

  Mina caught her arm. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, holding Kammani up as she sagged. “This world needs you; you can save it. We can save it. It doesn’t matter.”

  I wasn’t called. Without belief, I do not belong here.

  Four thousand years of sleeping beneath the sand, forgotten forever, not remembered now. I’m dead, Kammani thought, and sank to the steps before her altar, dragging Mina down with her. I will die forever this time.

  Mina shook her arm. “We will bring them back. You will be Kami, their new guru.”

  “I feel … strange,” Kammani said as the weight settled over her again.

  “The people need you,” Mina said, her voice urgent. “You must lead them. You will see, they will come tomorrow, some of them, and you’ll wear the suit I got you and talk to them as if they’re people, not slaves, and then more will come, and they will see your beauty and your wisdom and you will rule them.”

  “I feel … heavy,” Kammani said, and put her face in her hands. “There is no hope, Mina. Everything is so dark. I have never felt like this before.”

  “You’re just depressed,” Mina said. “And who wouldn’t be after the day you’ve had?”

  “Depressed?” Kammani said.

  “Depression is a real problem in this world,” Mina said. “But don’t worry, there are pills for that. My mother has a medicine chest full of them. I’ll bring you some later. The thing to remember now is that this world needs you.”

  Depression, Kammani thought. That’s this horrible feeling. This world is full of plagues and darkness. I’m supposed to cause those, not be afflicted by them. I hate this fucking world.

  “Did you hear me?” Mina said. “This world needs you.”

  Kammani turned to look at her. The girl was crazy, but there was the light of truth in her eyes.

  This world needs me.

  “You will rule us.”

  I will rule them.

  “You are the goddess,” Mina whispered, closer than she’d ever been before.

  “I am the goddess,” Kammani said.

  “I’ll get you some anti-depressants in the morning,” Mina said.

  “All right,” Kammani said.

  “Now rise,” Mina said, and Kammani stood.

  “Will they come to the meeting tomorrow?” she asked Mina, unsure and hating it.

  “Some,” Mina said. “Not many. We’ll start small. But your reputation will spread. What you will do for them will make many come. You will rule again.”

  “Yes,” Kammani said, knowing that she was closing her eyes to the truth, that she had not been called, that she had no place in this world—

  But they need me to rule them.

  And I will not die.

  “And I will be at your side,” Mina said, and Kammani looked at the girl, at the slyness and the ambition and the death in her buglike eyes.

  Whatever it took, even if she had to keep Mina at her right hand, she would not die.

  She straightened, trying to banish doubt and fear. There were ways of making sure that people followed her. She had Bun’s and Gen’s power now. Tomorrow more people would come. Enough to begin. She fought her way past the darkness of depression to the old world she knew. The ways she knew.

  “I will rule them,” Kammani said to Mina, who relaxed and nodded. “But we will not do this with money and weight loss. We will do this the old way. They will come to me, and I will warn them of the danger in the air, and tell them that if they are faithful to me, the swarm will not touch them.”

  “Swarm?” Mina said, tense again. “What swarm?”

  “I will send a swarm,” Kammani said, remembering how it had been.

  “Okay, that could be a PR disaster,” Mina said.

  “The faithful will be unscathed, but those who do not believe will be laid low.”

  Mina sighed. “Everybody in my family is faithful, right?”

  “Yes,” Kammani said.

  “Well, if you need a swarm, you need a swarm.” Mina frowned, thinking. “We’ll start with you in the business suit and you tell them how following your ways will make them thin and young and keep them protected from evil, and then you bring up the swarm. First the carrot, then the stick.”

  Kammani frowned at her. “Carrot?”

  “Never mind,” Mina said. “Trust me, it’s better that way.” She straightened and looked at Kammani directly, no longer subservient. “It’s my turn to be invested. Make me your priestess now. And then I’ll need more of the tonic. A lot more.” She climbed the steps to the altar and then returned to hand Kammani a collar of lapis, carnelian, and gold, the symbol of her priestesshood. There had been seven on the altar. Bun and Gen wore two, Vera’s had spilled on the steps, three more were waiting for the Three, and this one…

  Kammani took the collar. If she invested Mina, she’d draw on her power. She looked into Mina’s crazy black eyes and hesitated, but the power there was strong, much stronger than Gen and Bun together, almost as strong as the Three, and her need for it was great.

  “COME,” she said, and led Mina up the steps.

  Tomorrow she would warn of the swarm, and on Thursday it would descend.

  That’ll show them who the goddess is around here, she thought, and felt much better.

  Shar made sure Abby got
safely into bed while Noah got Daisy settled and then almost killed herself lurching back down the stairs. She thought about making coffee and realized she’d probably set the place on fire. Better to just go home. She looked at Wolfie and Milton dozing with Squash, and thought, They need to be here together tonight, and went out the front door, pulling it locked behind her.

  The night air was cool and that helped clear her head a little, but the bottom line was, she was drunk.

  I’ll probably get mugged on the way home, she thought. It would be Summerville’s first mugging, so it was appropriate that it should be her. She was the granddaughter of the bitch who’d brought Kammani to Ohio, so her family had it coming.

  She went past Lionel’s Bar next to Casey’s Hardware as Elvis’s “One Night” wafted out, glancing through the big plate-glass window.

  Sam was in there, three women looking up at him in admiration. Well, that made sense. “One Night” was practically his theme song.

  He looked up and caught Shar’s eyes, and she stared back, feeling the same way she had the first time she’d seen him carved in stone: He was beautiful, and she wanted him.

  That was the problem when you had too much to drink. Everything got too damn simple.

  He came out into the street. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” she said, waving her hand at him. “I’m going home. You stay here.”

  He took her arm to steady her. “Where are the dogs?”

  “Sleeping with Squash.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “They’re taking such good care of her.”

  “They’ll take her into the pack,” Sam said, and tugged on her arm, guiding her into the bar. “How about some coffee?”

  “Actually, I could use another screwdriver,” Shar said, looking at all the faces looking back at them. “It’s been a rough night.”

  “Coffee,” Sam said to the bartender as one of the women came up and asked him to dance.

  “No,” another woman whispered loudly, and Shar squinted and saw that it was Leesa. “That’s his ex-wife,” Leesa said, a little unsteady on her feet.

  Sam looked at Shar.

  “I have no idea how that rumor got started,” Shar said, and then smiled at the bartender, who put a cup of coffee in front of her.

  “We’ll always have Ur?” Sam said.

  “Boy, you just talk to everybody, don’t you?” Shar said, and sipped her coffee. “I’ll tell them your ex-wife is over at the temple. Killing people.”

  “She’s not my ex-wife,” Sam said. “My father was consort to her.”

  “She’s your stepmother and you slept with her?” Shar said, and several people turned to look.

  “It was more of a ceremonial position,” Sam said, unfazed. “Drink your coffee and we’ll go home.”

  “Ceremonial position,” Shar said. “Is that like the missionary position?”

  Sam looked at her over the tops of his glasses. “Why are you so angry?”

  Shar drew back. Glasses? “When did you get glasses?”

  “There was a place on the street behind the college. I was squinting at the window and this woman came out—”

  “Of course she did,” Shar said, and drank more coffee.

  “And told me I need to have my eyes examined and it turns out I’m farsighted.”

  “Depends on how you define the term,” Shar said into her coffee cup.

  “It means I can see well at a distance but not well up close. It’s good for battle.” Sam looked around the bar. “But for this life, the glasses help.”

  “I bet they do,” Shar said to her cup.

  Sam sighed. “You’re the worst kind. You think you’re low maintenance, but you’re really high maintenance.”

  Shar looked up. “No fair quoting my movies back to me. And I am very low maintenance. All you have to do to keep me happy is not give me a Taser.”

  “And not sleep with other women,” Sam said. Shar waved her hand. “Hey, no business of mine. I know you have ceremonial duties to perform.” You bastard.

  The nice thing about being drunk was that she no longer felt the need to be fair. So what if it was none of her business? Screw him anyway. Everybody else did.

  “.. . Doug,” Sam finished.

  “What?”

  “Kammani’s taken your student Doug as her new consort,” Sam repeated. He didn’t seem too upset about it.

  “Doug,” Shar said, and then it registered. “She’s going to sacrifice Doug?” She frowned. “That’s not good. I mean, I don’t like him, but I don’t think the price of arrogance and stupidity should be death. We’d lose half the student body and three-quarters of the faculty.”

  “She won’t sacrifice him; he’s not a king,” Sam said.

  “So, she’s just sleeping with him.” Shar nodded. “I’m sorry your stepmother’s a nympho.”

  “The Big Lebowski,“ Sam said. “I’m taking bowling lessons because of that movie.”

  “Bowling lessons?” Shar said. “How did you … never mind.” He’d walked into a bowling alley and some woman had said, You need free bowling lessons, and given him free shoes and lunch, too.

  “I’ve learned a lot from those movies,” Sam said.

  “That’s not actually how the world works.” Shar drank the rest of her coffee and turned to him, still rocky on her feet.

  “Sure it is.” Sam smiled at her and made her head reel. “ ‘Rescue the damsel in distress, kill the bad guy, save the world.’ ”

  “I don’t know that one,” Shar said.

  “The Mummy.” Sam took her arm. “Let’s go home and watch it again.”

  Let’s go home. That was dangerous, thinking they had a home to go to. And liking having his hand under her arm. And being glad he wasn’t sleeping with Kammani anymore. That was all really dangerous.

  “No.” Shar tried to shake off his hand, but his grip was firm and he was a lot more stable than she was. “You were partying. You stay here with the girls, and I’ll go home.”

  “I was waiting for you.”

  He moved toward the door and she moved with him. Didn’t have much choice really. It was like being dragged along by a force of nature.

  “You were waiting for me?”

  “I saw the three of you talking when I came to the back door, so I went to the tavern to wait. I knew you’d go by.”

  “I could have taken the back way,” Shar said, annoyed that she was so predictable.

  He opened the door to the bar and steered her out into the dark street. “Not drunk. You’re careful.”

  Shar yanked her arm out of his hand. “You think you know me, but you don’t. I’m not Sharrat.”

  “I know,” Sam said, and caught her when she tripped on the sidewalk.

  “You didn’t know I was drunk when you saw me,” Shar pointed out when they were walking again. Damn, it was dark. “We were just sitting there.”

  “There were a lot of bottles on the table. And you don’t drink.”

  “This god thing you do.” Shar thought about jerking her arm away again and decided she liked the stability. “It’s annoying. Like you know everything.”

  “Sorry,” Sam said.

  She couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t sound sorry.

  “But you don’t know everything,” Shar said. “You don’t know that I’m supposed to seduce you to find out what Kammani’s doing.”

  “I do now,” Sam said.

  “And you don’t know that I have a glittery hooha,” Shar said, and Sam slowed on that one. “See? You don’t. Which is why we can never sleep together. It would be unfair to you.”

  “No, it wouldn’t.”

  “You don’t even know what a glittery hooha is,” Shar said, plowing on so that he had to catch up. “You have no idea of the dangers you’d be running.”

  “I’m used to danger,” Sam said, and even though it was dark, Shar could have sworn he was grinning.

  “There’s nothing funny about this. One dip and you’re done.”


  “It’s fatal?” Sam said. “It’s okay; I’m a god.”

  “No, no, you’d be my slave for life,” Shar said, slowing now in front of her house.

  “I’m that anyway,” Sam said. “Don’t trip on the steps.”

  “I’m not that drunk,” she said, and tripped.

  He caught her again, and she looked up into his dark eyes and thought, I really want you.

  “You can’t be my slave for life; you don’t even know me,” she said, swallowing hard.

  “I know you,” he said. “You have Sharrat’s brains and Sharrat’s drive and Sharrat’s concern for people, and just like her, you’ll always do the right thing.…”

  “I am not—”

  “But you have joy and kindness and laughter, too,” Sam said. “You kiss Milton on the top of his head and watch movies like a little girl, and when you’re happy, your entire face glows. I know you. And you know me.”

  Oh, Shar thought, and tried to find something that was wrong with that.

  Sam waited a minute and when she didn’t say anything, he said, “We should go in.”

  “That was a really great thing to say,” Shar said.

  “Let’s go in,” Sam said quietly.

  Shar hesitated, and then she thought, Who am I kidding? She’d wanted him since she’d seen him on the damn wall. This was a once-in-four-thousand-years opportunity. Don’t screw up, Shar.

  Shar swallowed. “If we go in there, are you going to be a gentleman and not take advantage of me because I’m drunk?”

  “No,” Sam said.

  “Good,” Shar said, and walked up to her front door with her head exploding again. “You know, it probably would have been better if I hadn’t said that, because then you could have just jumped me when we got in the house and I wouldn’t be feeling so self-conscious now.”

  “Key,” Sam said with godlike calm.

  She fumbled in her bag and handed over her key, and he unlocked the door and pushed it open for her. She went into the cool stone hall and dropped her bag on the table and turned to face him as he pulled the door shut and real darkness enveloped them, and she waited, so aware of him standing inches from her that she could feel him breathe. When he didn’t move, she took a step closer and put her hand on his chest, let her fingers slip to trace the line of his side, down the flat of his belly, the curve of his hip, and he sucked in his breath. She lifted her face and pulled him down to her, her lips touching his, tasting him, and then kissed him the way she had the first time, with everything she had, rising up on her toes as he pulled her to him, frowning as she kissed him again and again, trying to consume him, drink him in.