“Get me in,” Sid said in a low voice. Heavy distortion leaked out the room each time someone entered or left, fading out in time with each closing of the door.
“Sure,” Mr Wallet took counted his cash, took out a note and folded the rest in his pocket. They got their wrists stamped, and went in.
“Why don’t you ever ask me any questions?” Sid made sure only Mr Wallet could hear him, under the noise in the crowd.
“You don’t pay me to ask questions.” Mr Wallet jostled some teenagers aside, making a path through the cultists. Barely out of puberty, most of the kids stood around in trance, amidst their worship and prayer. They stared, mouth gaping, at their altar where their priests led in the ritual. Crunching guitars accompanied the losing of young minds.
“It isn’t safe, this place. Wait here.” Sid drew a curtain and disappeared behind it.
Mr Wallet was not interested in Sid’s business, but he obeyed nonetheless. He’d followed Sid to visit many people, but few with such many worshippers as Gig. Gig didn’t look like she was waning in power like the others were, Mr Wallet wondered why Sid was even trying to get her to join the cause. “People celebrate her, sacrifice to her, praise her name and put aside days of worship for her –yes. But none know her true history, few believe in her truly…” Sid had said to Mr Wallet. “She knows that, and slowly she is dying. She will join, she will fight.”
Mr Wallet had shrugged. The matters of the Intangibles was not of his concern. He was a keeper, a guardian, under the employ of Sid, and he’d not ask of anything. He wasn’t sure what he wanted anyway, he stopped knowing when his wife died.
It was there that his thoughts dwelled when darkness folded around him.
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Warm sticky blood dripped out of Mr Wallet’s side. His right eye lids were stuck together with clotted blood, so he opened his left and looked around.
Not that it made a difference. The darkness nearly made him forget what light was.
________________________
“I need a favour.” Sid was kept his upset behind gritted teeth. Gig’s refusal was bad enough, but losing Mr Wallet was insult to injury.
Lady Luck flicked her scarf over her shoulder. “Anything for you Sid, you’ve always treated me well…” She batted her lashes and ran her full lips down his neck.
Shudders ran down his spine. Sid growled “I can’t go on without Mr Wallet. Please.”
Her wet tongue found his and caressed. It tasted like chrysenthemum and serendipity.
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Outside a police station in Jurong, Mr Wallet rubbed his wrists. The cuff marks were the only ones left, the wounds had disappeared. Sid pulled up in a black town car that had seen better days and Mr Wallet got in.
“You know how you got out?” Sid’s voice was a mix of relief and chiding.
“I never ask questions, remember?” Mr Wallet looked out the window, and decided he needed to get some new clothes.
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I’d like to thank all the friends who gave me support and assistance when between when I lost my wallet and got it back again. Ina, John, Guru, Morgan, Pamela, Jason, Natalie, and Keith. I am very grateful, for if it weren’t for you, I’d still be hanging in a tree waiting to die. Thank you.
Story adapted from American Gods by Neil Gaiman
