Mindy didn't mean to create a god.
Few people do, really, and most of the ones that try generally don't succeed. The esoteric books of complex rituals, spells, and incantations designed to incarnate the loose wisps of ethereal force into a sentient being capable of altering reality were highly coveted by secret societies and eccentric scholars alike, but the lore didn't mention that there's no true formula to incarnating a divinity. Most of them were scribbled down after an unexpected success, and none of them took into account the role of the person performing the rites of godhood.
Mindy, as it turned out, was one of the few who had the knack. She had a natural quality of devotion to her, an aura of kind reverence and general decency that the universe itself paid attention to. It didn't translate to an interest in religion, although she was raised by a Baptist family that homeschooled her to be faithful and pious as they understood the concept. Mindy never had any real passion in general; she was dutiful enough, she studied her Bible and went to church with her family and grew up into a generous-hearted young woman, but she never found anything in the church that sparked joy in her soul. She constantly waited for the Lord to touch her life with a calling, never knowing about any of the secret societies and arcane scholars who would give their right eye to do what she could.
They never knew about her, either. They went on their way, seeking their great secrets and betraying each other and stealing ancient tomes from museums and generally fighting to gain the power to summon a god, little knowing that it had already happened to a slightly chubby young woman with dark brown eyes and long, wavy, black hair, somewhere in the city of Lawrence, Kansas on a Thursday morning in February.
Mindy didn't know, either. That wasn't to say it was an ordinary day for her; far from it, in fact. It was her second semester of freshman year at the University of Kansas-her parents hadn't been entirely sure about sending her off to college, which they viewed as a source of dangerous ideas, but Mindy wanted to be a teacher, at least until she met her future husband, and they felt like Lawrence and KU were about as safe as a college education could be.
They weren't entirely correct. Mindy made it through her first semester without being exposed to anyone too far removed from her social circle back home, but her roommate for Spring Semester was exactly the kind of young woman Mindy's parents worried about. Her name was Tamika, and she announced her presence by elbowing her way through the door with a double armload of bags, giving Mindy a sidelong glance and saying, "Hi. Call me Mika. I'm your new roommate. You've got about six hours to get your dorm changed if you're freaking out about living with a black woman. Just don't say anything to me about it, okay? I have heard one too damn many stupid excuses from white chicks today, and I have no fucks left to give."
Mindy didn't change her dorm room. She felt bad for Tamika, especially after she found out that three previous roommates had handled the situation by getting Tamika bumped out of their rooms instead of finding a new place themselves. That kind of unfairness touched her deep down in her soul, on a level that she had no idea touched the eternal resonance of the cosmic harmony and made her spirit call out to the godhead, and she told Tamika, "It's okay. You can use the bottom drawer of my dresser. I've got plenty of room."
Tamika's only response was a half-mumbled, "Cool," as she dumped her bags at the foot of her bed and began to unpack. But her smile spoke volumes.
It was the unpacking that led, in a roundabout way, to the creation of Mindy's god; in among the clothes and the books and the posters (Prince, Che Guavara and a "Yes We Can" Obama sign that had been reverently cared for) was a device that Mindy looked at with such evident confusion on her face that Tamika said to her, "Oh, you poor, deprived little girl. Have you never even seen one of these before?"
Mindy shook her head. "I don't even know what it is," she said, furrowing her brow in bewilderment as she stared at the object that looked a little bit like a microphone. It didn't have the usual mesh coating on the head, though, and it didn't seem to have any kind of output jack. Just a power cord that plugged into an outlet, and a switch with four or five different settings.
Tamika smiled in what could only be described as devilish glee. "This," she said, "is a woman's best friend. You plug it in, you turn it on, and then you just put it wherever it feels good and let the buzz carry you away to Happy Town."
Mindy blushed, not quite getting what the other young woman meant but feeling embarrassed by her lack of understanding as much as anything else. "So it's, like...a foot massager or something?" Her mom had one of those, an anniversary present from her dad, and her mom certainly seemed happy when she rested her weary feet on it and let it buzz away her soreness. But Tamika didn't act like she was talking about a foot massager.
And she didn't laugh like she was talking about a foot massager. "Try a little higher, honey," she said, in between gales of giggles that Mindy tried not to find hurtful. "Shit, haven't you ever, I dunno, leaned against a washing machine or something?" Her laughter slowly subsided into genuine compassion as Mindy shook her head, still confused. "Massaging shower head? Riding a pillow? Not even, like...giving yourself a little rub down there when you're by yourself?"
Mindy's cheeks felt so furious with heat that she was sure they could be seen from space. "We had a big family. I, um, wasn't left alone very often." She was starting to get an idea what this was all about, and her upbringing had left her woefully unequipped even to discuss why she didn't want to discuss it.
"So you've never had an orgasm?" Tamika's expression was a mix of incredulity and pity, like she'd heard about people like Mindy but didn't really believe they could exist in a just universe. "You haven't ever been with a boy and never mind what was I even thinking." She sighed heavily. "Look, I got classes all day on Thursday, and I'm going job hunting after that. You want my advice? Skip school and stay in bed with my little friend. It'll be a religious experience for you, I swear. I won't say boo so long as you clean it off when you're done."
Mindy made a few stammering mumbles about good attendance leading to good grades, and Tamika was kind enough to change the subject. But the thought never really left Mindy's mind, and three days later when she woke to find Tamika already gone and the Hitachi lying on the bed next to a note that was just a hugely grinning smiley face...well, she couldn't resist a little curiosity. Just a little. She took the device over to her bed, plugged it in, and flicked the switch to the lowest setting.