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“Here’s the deal,” I announced. “I like the title Bitch Goddess Cecily. It’s so wrong, it’s right. Like any good stage name, it’s unforgettable.”
Ophelia looked confused. Not surprising. Corny, Stella, Moon, Irma and a partially corporeal Jonny nodded in agreement. Cher printed out the name on the sidewalk with her green eye pencil. After examining it for a moment, she gave me a thumbs up. Fifi put the grenades back into her pockets and Sushi’s terrifying fangs retracted. Everyone was out of their damned minds—me included. I stole a quick glance at my mother. She was doing her best not to laugh. While I didn’t disagree that the situation was somewhat humorous, I’d already dealt with a bunch of bloodshed today on top of a death and a resurrection.
I was over it. “Also, it’s debatable if the stage name will be necessary.” I crossed my fingers and took a deep breath. Ripping off the band-aid was my new modus operandi. Guessing wasn’t good for my sanity or my digestive system. “Lilith is still alive. So… umm… I’m hoping that she can still do the job of Goddess and I’m off the hook or the show… so to speak.”
My friends and family were still confused.
I clarified, “You know, like I was hired then fired.”
Still mass confusion. I’d clearly been hanging out with Moon Sunny Swartz and Ophelia too often.
“Look at it this way…” I gestured to my mother. “Lilith is the star of the show. On opening night, she gets food poisoning.”
Corny raised his hand. I nodded at him.
“Bad food poisoning?” he asked. “Like puking and blowing it out of your ass food poisoning?”
I quickly retracted my purple fire swords so I didn’t lop his head off. “Umm… sure,” I replied. “Anyhoo, I’m her seriously underprepared and freaked-out understudy. BUT, right before places are called, Lilith makes a miraculous recovery and goes on. Which is fabulous, considering I don’t know any of my lines or blocking, and I don’t have any costumes.”
“So, you were prepared to go on naked?” Stella inquired, completely serious.
I wished I hadn’t retracted the swords.
Pressing my lips together for a hot sec, I decided to keep going. Honestly, I was getting confused myself. “Yes. And that would have been dreadful for the entire production. The reviews would have sucked.”
“Musical or straight play?” Irma inquired.
I reminded myself that patience was a virtue and maiming my friends was bad. “A straight play.”
“Is this Broadway or community theatre?” Jonny asked as he materialized.
“Does it matter?” I snapped. “The point is that I’m a forty-year-old former child star who has a once in a life-time shot at making a comeback in show biz. I’ve known about my Demon heritage for a few weeks and I am in no way prepared to be the Demon Goddess. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. The job is waaaaay above my pay grade and I’m not one to pretend I can do something I can’t.”
“I call bullshit,” Cher bellowed. She pulled a wine cooler out of her Prada tote-bag and sucked it back in one gulp. “We’re gonna have to agree to disagree on that one. You, Cecily Bloom, can fly! I saw it with my own eyes. Yep, you might have concussed yourself, knocked out a few teeth and needed stitches, but you DID IT! You’re a goddamned actress—a genius one. You pretend for a living. I should know, I make ten percent of your income. Your talent gives me a woody and I don’t have a cock. If you say you’re the Demon Goddess of the Darkness, I’ll pay good money for a ticket to the show. I believe in you.”
I squinted at her. “Are you wasted?”
“Just a little,” she admitted sheepishly. “However, my words are true.”
I groaned. “I can’t do it. Trust me, none of you want me to do it. I am not the Bitch Goddess Cecily. I’m just Cecily Bloom.”
At first, there was silence. Silence wasn’t the reaction I was looking for. Preferably, it would have been someone jumping into the scene and telling me I was correct. However, after the stomach-churning silence, there was laughter.
Tons of laughter.
Loud, boisterous laughter.
Tears leaked from their eyes, and my idiot audience rolled on the ground unable to control themselves.
I wanted to electrocute all of them.
I didn’t.
The only people who were not guffawing were Dagon, Man-mom, Uncle Joe, Sean, Abaddon and Lilith. Honestly, that was more alarming than the laughter.
I glanced around and winced. We were in full view of my neighbors. Not that I knew any of them, but the grenades, the punching, the purple fire swords and Sushi’s fangs were enough for someone to call the cops.
“This isn’t a safe place for all of us to show our true selves,” I said.
