The dentist claimed it was the most difficult crown he’d ever removed, and I believe it; the experience was exhausting. But let me clarify: I haven’t been deprived of crowns; I simply got an upgrade. Still, the coronation was quite demanding, and I needed a nap to recover.
I’d been awake for a minute or two—long enough to determine that I would probably survive—when Ms. Wonder peeked into the bedroom. She was wearing a geometric print blouse and black slacks. Not that it matters; I mention it only in passing.
“What’s with this?” I said. “Why aren’t you working?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Wow,” I said, “it must be serious if you’re checking on me. Does my face look swollen?”
“Not bad. How are you feeling?”
“The right side of my face throbs with my pulse, but other than that, I feel fine.”
I rolled out of bed, thinking I’d spend the afternoon at Luna Cafe. But when I walked into the kitchen, I managed to spill my water bottle, drop yogurt on my shoe, and drip coffee down the front of my pajamas.
Well, that does it, I thought. Driving to Luna would be risky. Apparently, the gods had taken the afternoon off, or maybe they’d left for Florida to escape the cold snap along the Carolina coast.
“I don’t know,” said Wonder. “Maybe you’re looking to the wrong god for support.”
I cut my eyes in her direction, surprised that she knew what I'd been thinking. I mean, sure, she works in mysterious ways, her wonders to perform and all that, but this was over the top.
“I was thinking of Zeus,” I said, attempting subterfuge and misdirection to disarm her defenses.
“He’s not in Florida,” she replied. “In fact, he hasn’t been heard from in centuries.”
“Surely not that long,” I said.
“I’m afraid so. I’m pretty sure he’s no longer around.”
“You mean he’s clocked out?” I asked. “How did he go?”
“I think it was ruled natural causes,” she said.
“Makes sense,” I replied. “I mean, who would want to kill Zeus?”
“Probably lots of people,” she said. “He was an okay guy, but he messed around a lot. And I think he owed a bunch of people money.”
“I won’t be the same with him gone,” I said.
“It hasn’t been the same for a long time,” she said. “I’m told there’s another one now.”
“A replacement for a god? Now that’s something to think about over afternoon coffee.”
“The cycle of life,” she said.
“Well, yeah,” I said, “I suppose that’s the only way to look at it. But still, it seems like replacing a god wouldn’t be so easy. My crown upgrade was more challenging. Do you suppose they keep a file of applicants in an office cabinet somewhere?”
“I think they use an app called "Indeed" now. But however it happened, you know that Zeus wasn’t real, right?”
“Someone thought he was real,” I said, “and when you get right down to it, that’s all that counts.”
Suddenly, I remembered reading somewhere that Zeus wore red Converse tennis shoes. The thought seemed to support his existence. I chose not to bring it up, though, because Ms. Wonder appeared to be musing on what I’d just said, and that was good enough for me.
“Still,” I said, “it just feels wrong to go around replacing other people’s gods.”
“For sure,” she said.
I’d been awake for a minute or two—long enough to determine that I would probably survive—when Ms. Wonder peeked into the bedroom. She was wearing a geometric print blouse and black slacks. Not that it matters; I mention it only in passing.
“What’s with this?” I said. “Why aren’t you working?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Wow,” I said, “it must be serious if you’re checking on me. Does my face look swollen?”
“Not bad. How are you feeling?”
“The right side of my face throbs with my pulse, but other than that, I feel fine.”
I rolled out of bed, thinking I’d spend the afternoon at Luna Cafe. But when I walked into the kitchen, I managed to spill my water bottle, drop yogurt on my shoe, and drip coffee down the front of my pajamas.
Well, that does it, I thought. Driving to Luna would be risky. Apparently, the gods had taken the afternoon off, or maybe they’d left for Florida to escape the cold snap along the Carolina coast.
“I don’t know,” said Wonder. “Maybe you’re looking to the wrong god for support.”
I cut my eyes in her direction, surprised that she knew what I'd been thinking. I mean, sure, she works in mysterious ways, her wonders to perform and all that, but this was over the top.
“I was thinking of Zeus,” I said, attempting subterfuge and misdirection to disarm her defenses.
“He’s not in Florida,” she replied. “In fact, he hasn’t been heard from in centuries.”
“Surely not that long,” I said.
“I’m afraid so. I’m pretty sure he’s no longer around.”
“You mean he’s clocked out?” I asked. “How did he go?”
“I think it was ruled natural causes,” she said.
“Makes sense,” I replied. “I mean, who would want to kill Zeus?”
“Probably lots of people,” she said. “He was an okay guy, but he messed around a lot. And I think he owed a bunch of people money.”
“I won’t be the same with him gone,” I said.
“It hasn’t been the same for a long time,” she said. “I’m told there’s another one now.”
“A replacement for a god? Now that’s something to think about over afternoon coffee.”
“The cycle of life,” she said.
“Well, yeah,” I said, “I suppose that’s the only way to look at it. But still, it seems like replacing a god wouldn’t be so easy. My crown upgrade was more challenging. Do you suppose they keep a file of applicants in an office cabinet somewhere?”
“I think they use an app called "Indeed" now. But however it happened, you know that Zeus wasn’t real, right?”
“Someone thought he was real,” I said, “and when you get right down to it, that’s all that counts.”
Suddenly, I remembered reading somewhere that Zeus wore red Converse tennis shoes. The thought seemed to support his existence. I chose not to bring it up, though, because Ms. Wonder appeared to be musing on what I’d just said, and that was good enough for me.
“Still,” I said, “it just feels wrong to go around replacing other people’s gods.”
“For sure,” she said.