Halfway between the bus stop and Matthew's house, a group of bigger boys loiter in a driveway. Their predatory gaze falls upon my priest.

"Hey, runt. You got lunch money leftover?" the largest of the boys shouts.

Matthew's head bows. His pace quickens. He creeps toward the outer edge of the sidewalk.

Another member of the group grabs the strap on Matthew's pack, just as his mother had done, but he yanks on it, making the priest stumble.

"I don't have anything. Leave me alone!"

"I think you do," the big one says, moving in on him.

I stroll up to the little scene and slip my hands into my pockets. "It is not honorable to treat a younger, smaller member of your community in this way."

They scoff.

"Who are you?" the big one asks.

"I am Zatyafan, god of chaos, and the new gym teacher at Matthew's school."

The one holding Matthew's pack draws him closer. "Well, we're just talking to our friend, your highness."

The boys all laugh.

My priest gazes up at me with tears in his eyes.

"Chaos can be wonderful," I say. "It can open the mind and expand one's worldview. It can hasten the creative process and sharpen survival senses. But sometimes, it can just be awful. All bad. Scary and inexplicable. Such could be the fate of those who anger me."

A nervous look shoots back and forth among the boys before their bravado returns.

"You can't threaten kids, man."

I lift my shoulders. "I did not threaten anyone. I'm simply speaking with you about how upsetting life can be at times." Power rolls out from the center of me, and it is not inconsiderable. I clutch the candy in my pocket.

A tree branch cracks and falls, landing on a row of trashcans near the curb. Two families of red squirrels fall with it and a dozen of the frightened rodents run straight at the group of boys. They're joined by three fat, waddling raccoons that emerge from the trashcans.

"What the f—" The big kid's statement is cut off when a squirrel shoots right up the inside of his pant leg. He falls to the ground, screaming in terror as his compatriots struggle to fend off the other creatures.

Matthew, untouched by the wild animals, watches me with wide eyes. He grabs my hand and runs with me to the neighboring yard, where he pushes me behind a tree. "You maked that happen?"

"I had to protect you. You are my priest." The world turns blurry and I slump against the tree trunk.

"Are you gonna barf?"

"No." At least, I don't think so.

The screams of the bullies grow distant and disappear as they run away.

Matthew watches them go before returning his attention to me. "What's a following?"

My legs tremble. I slump down to the ground. "That big boy back there, he has a following—people who will do what you tell them to do because they respect or fear you."

He lifts his shirt and scratches the smooth round swell of his belly while he thinks about that. "Okay. I'll be a following for you. What do I do?"

I blink away the dizziness. I'd overdone it, for sure. "I need you to bring me an offering. That will empower me."

He cocks his head. "What's an offering?"

The candy is still in my pocket. I pull it out and show it to him. "This was the first offering that you gave me. It's what binds us together."

"Okay. Just stay here for a minute." He jogs off toward his house with his pack thumping against his back.

Darkness creeps in around the edges of my vision, and I struggle to fight it back. I am needed here. I can't fall asleep again. Not so soon. What a foolish move it had been to waste energy on getting water for the dogs. The river had been close enough that I could hear the babble of it. Why had I not reserved my energy for this moment when the priest needed me?

My eyelids flutter shut against my will.

"Here you go." The priest squats down beside me, holding out a juice box and a small package of cookies shaped like animals.

I force my eyes open, raise a shaking hand, and accept his gift. The world settles back into focus. "Thank you."

He plops down on his bottom and crosses his legs. "Welcome."

I look at him.

He looks at me.

"How old are you, Matthew?"

"Six."

"Where's your mother right now?"

"She's chopping up the dinner. I gotta pick up the dog poop. You should eat your snack so you don't barf."

"Right." I poke the plastic tube into the hole in the box and take a long drink of the juice. It's like sucking on sugar cane. But better. Extraordinary. "Can you get some other children to join us? Will they come here?"

He pops up to his feet. "Go to the park down there. We got a club house behind the circle bushes. I'll tell them to come."

I bow my head. "I am grateful, my priest."

He shrugs. "Thanks for sending the squirrels to eat Todd. I hate that guy."

"Tell the others to bring offerings. With your help, my power will increase, and the world shall be ours."

"Okay." He runs off toward his house again, so I haul myself to my feet and stroll toward the place with the strange structures and discarded playthings.

Two young women with toddlers watch me warily as I approach the park. I smile warmly. They narrow their gazes at me. I keep walking past the area where their children play and take a seat at a table under a budding magnolia tree.

Soon enough, Matthew comes into view. He's got one foot on a two-wheeled conveyance that he pushes with the other foot. Two other boys follow him. They're riding machines with three wheels powered by the spinning of the boys' feet. They head straight for their hiding spot behind the shrubbery. Matthew beckons me with a wave of his hand. One of the women looks back at me. She's smiling now. Apparently, I needed the acceptance of a child to be welcome in that place. It makes sense. It is a child's place. I should have thought of that.

The three boys are already unpacking their bags when I reach them. In a moment, two girls, one clearly older than the rest of the children, join us. The children offer their sacrifices by laying them on the grass in front of me. There is a can that says Diet Pepsi, a tiny wrapped "Snickers," a small bag full of carrots, and two pieces of bread glued together with sticky brown paste. Power surges through me. I flex and stretch, enjoying the strength of this form. "Give me the words for these items."

Matthew points. "That's a can of soda pop. Candy bar. Carrots. PB and J." He looks at the other kids. "He's still learning how to talk."

I breathe in slowly, calming the pulsing might streaming to me from throughout the universe. "Give me your names."

"Bently."

"Masen."

"Matthew."

"Jenny."

The older girl peered at me through narrowed eyes. "This is all a little weird."

"Excuse me?"

"Why does a grown up man want to meet with a bunch of kids in the park? That's creepy, dude. Stranger danger."

"I am a god."

Matthew nodded emphatically. "He really is God. He made the squirrels eat Todd."

"Yeah, that's what you said, but I don't think squirrels can eat a boy," the girl said. "They're vegetarian."

"I did not make them eat him. I simply caused a series of events to frighten the boy away. I assure you, he is unharmed."

Matthew punched the ground. "Aw, man!"

"Okay, if you're God, make something happen.," the girl said.

The heady sense of strength suddenly upon me tempts me to give in to her demand. However, she is not yet an avowed follower, nor is she my high priest. I suspect she doesn't even bear an attachment to my high priest, except by association with her younger sister. I will not be baited by skeptics. Focusing on Matthew, I explain, "I am one of a pantheon—"

His attention is already wandering.

"There are a lot of gods," I tell him.

He looks at me with a little frown. "God is God."

"There is one big boss, God. We won't talk about that God. But there are more gods than you can count."

"Do you work for the big boss?" Masen asks.

"Every molecule in the universe works for the big boss," I explain, trying not to show my annoyance in regard to that fact. It is best not to express perturbances with God. "God is not... your English language does not have enough words for me to explain properly."

Jenny plucks a dandelion and sniffs it. "My mama says kids ask more questions than God gave answers for."

I tap my fingers against the shiny sides of my shoes. "To be clear, I am not the big boss God, but I am quite powerful in my own right." I rush on before Jenny's sister can rudely interject. "I will not participate in foolish tests, but because you awakened me, I will grant you the boon of your choice."

"What's a boon?" Matthew asks.

"A reward. A payment. Something that will please you and your band of fellow worshippers." I gesture to make sure the other children understand that I mean them.

The little group huddles together, whispering. Jenny's sister mutters a few suggestions, including asking for popularity and worldly goods. Typical. A certain type of low-minded person always immediately goes there. At last, they all sit down on their bottoms again and stare at me.

Matthew speaks. "Tomorrow is field day. Mr. Pattinson's class always wins. He's the track coach for the high school kids, so he knows all the good tricks. Ms. Williams loves books, not games." He blows a raspberry to show what he thinks of that. "We want to win field day so our class gets the ice cream party, not stupid Mr. Pattinson's class."

The request for defeat of one's enemy is also common. However, it's far more respectable, in my opinion, than the base acquisition of wealth for the sole sake of being wealthy. I bow my head in agreement. "It shall be done." Then I narrow my gaze on Jenny's sister. "And when victory is assured, I expect the proper adoration to be given."

The girl rolls her eyes. "Whatever." She stands up. "Come on, Jenny. Mom's going to wonder what's taking so long."

Jenny hands me the dandelion before she walks away, and my power increases by another small fraction.