The Story Begins Here

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Chapter Twenty Nine

Robert Wheeler squinted into the bright light after hours in the dark of the Cadillac’s trunk. When his eyes could tolerate the light, he saw Hep, Scroat and Inktomi looking down at him. Inktomi looked mildly freaked out, while Hep and Scroat looked pissed off. Scroat more so than Hep.

Hep grabbed Robert and pulled him out of the trunk. Robert looked around, and realized he had no idea where they were. It looked like they were on the moon, or something. The ground was hard and dry mud, and went for miles without interruption in any direction. In the far distance were mountains, which served to make the place seem even more alien.

“Where are we?” Robert asked.

“Smack dab in the middle of the Black Rock Desert. It’s at least a one hundred mile walk in any direction, with nowhere to hide. So if you try to run, we’ll just follow you in the car until you fall over from exhaustion or thirst. Got it?” Hep said. He still had a firm hold on Robert’s arm.

“Yeah, I got it,” Robert said.

Hep let go of him, “Good. So, let’s talk about how it is that Scroat and I came home to find our house on fire, and our housesitter nowhere to be found.”

Robert said, “Well, it’s pretty simple, really. I was invited to a high stakes poker game, and this guy was one of the other players. He cheated, and cleaned me out. Seventy thousand dollars! So I paid him a little visit. I just wanted to have a nice little chat about how he was going to give my money back, or I’d see to it he never played poker in any of the big games again. Well, after he called me variety of rotten names and told me to go fuck myself, I got a little pissed off. He slammed the door in my face, and I left. I went back a couple days later, to try to get my money again. But I discovered he’d run off. And then I learned he’d been house sitting. And then, through some interesting coincidences, I learned whose house he was sitting. And I learned about how his houses have had an unusual tendency to burn down. And I thought, if this house burned down, you two would hunt him down, and all I’d have to do is follow you, and then I’d get my money back.

“Except then you got on a god damned boat, sailing for Alaska! Well, you weren’t going to find Inktomi on the ocean, so while you were drunk, I knocked a hole in Poseidon’s boat and trapped another drunk sailor in one of the lockers on the boat. I figured that would get you kicked off the boat. Then I just had to follow you.

“The Society of the Seven Seals in Minneapolis learned Inktomi was in Las Vegas when they were laying there half-conscious outside a bar. So I hustled out here and I found him, but he ran off again. But then you guys came along, and tracked him down for me.”

Hep and Scroat took a moment to absorb this information. Their house had been burned down by a guy who wanted to find Inktomi. Most of the experiences they’d had over the last month were because of some jackass who wanted them to find Inktomi for him.

“Do you have any idea,” Hep said, “how entirely insane your plan was?”

“Fucking insane,” Scroat said.

Robert didn’t say anything in response. He stared at the ground, expecting bad things to happen to him at any moment.

“Wow, guys, I’m sorry you had to put up with that kind of bullshit from some guy who was trying to find me,” Inktomi said. “I’ll help you rebuild your house.”

“Thank you,” Hep said. “I guess we can’t really blame you, though. Even if you should have, maybe, gotten in touch with us to let us know what was up.”

“Fuck that shit! I can blame him. I can blame both of them. It’s easy!” Scroat said. “I’ve got half a mind to kick both of your asses back and forth across the fucking playa.”

“Easy there, big fella,” Hep said. “Inktomi’s already offered to make good for the damage to our house, and I think I know how Robert here can make the rest right.”

He looked at Robert. “I hope you’re ready for a lot of rainy nights,” he said. Then he looked up at the sky and called “Poseidon! You’re needed here. I think you’ll be interested in what I have to show you.”

Poseidon appeared next to the three of them with a thunderclap to announce his arrival.

“Make this quick, I don’t like to leave the boat unattended for long,” Poseidon said.

“We found out who knocked the hole in your boat. This guy,” Hep said, and pointed at him. “He just admitted to it. We thought it might be just if he helped you out for a while, to repay his debt.”

Poseidon clapped Hep on the shoulder, and said, “I knew you wouldn’t knock a hole in my boat. Not on purpose anyhow.”

The sky darkened, and the wind picked up as his attention shifted to Robert Wheeler
“Now, as for you,” he said to Robert, “Fixing that hole cost me two thousand dollars and a week of sailing, which means I’ve missed the weather window for some of the northernmost parts of the trip I had planned. But I’ve been thinking about doing a circumnavigation anyway, and I need some crew to clean the bottom of the boat and take care of the rest of the maintenance I, frankly, don’t like doing. You’ll do.”

“What if I say no?” Robert said.

“Well, it doesn’t take much prompting to get Ares to kill someone. Usually we can’t even finish asking before he’s gone and killed the person. We could get him involved,” Hep said. “I’m nearly certain he’s got the time.”

“Looks like I’ll be going sailing then,” Robert said.

Poseidon grabbed his arm, and said “It sure does.”

The two of them vanished. The sky cleared up again, and Hep, Scroat and Inktomi were alone on the playa.

“So,” Hep said, “should we head back to Vegas?”

“Fuck yeah!” Scroat said.

Inktomi closed the Cadillac’s trunk, and the three of them got in. It was a long drive back to Pahrump to get their bikes, so they didn’t waste any time.

“Hey Hep,” Inktomi said, “How come all the rest of you Greek types can appear and disappear whenever they want, but you can’t?”

Hep laughed and rubbed at his temples. “I can, but for some reason I get the worst hangover in the world when I do it. So I try not to.”

“That’s a real drag. It seems like it would be a handy skill,” Inktomi said.

“I dunno. If you can appear whenever you want, people expect you to actually show up right away when they call you,” Hep said.

“Good point,” Inktomi said.

They arrived in Pahrump a few hours later, back at the casino where they’d left their bikes. Hep told Inktomi they would catch up with him on Fremont Street in Las Vegas.

Hep and Scroat started their bikes. Before they rolled out, Scroat said, “I don’t suppose we could go back to that brothel?”

“Probably not for a while, Scroat,” Hep said. “I suspect we freaked them out a bit earlier, what with the gun and the tying a guy up and stuffing him in the trunk.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Too bad. I think one of those girls was into me,” Scroat said.

“I think that’s wishful thinking,” Hep said.

“Whatever. You’re just jealous,” Scroat said.

They pulled back on to the main drag, and rode towards Las Vegas. An hour later, they’d parked their bikes and were searching for a cocktail and a good time.

They stayed two days, made and lost a great number of friends they couldn’t remember, and generally blew off the steam that had been gathering for the last month. On the third day, though, it was time to head home.

But first, they had to deal with a surplus of motorcycles. Hep and Scroat’s bikes were still in Ares’s care in Los Angeles. Hep hated to leave the bikes in L.A., and Scroat hated to leave the bikes with Ares. Between the two of them, they came up with a plan for what to do with the bikes they were on right now.

Sixteen hours later, they were in Brookings, Oregon once more. They parked their bikes outside the bar they’d visited and went inside. At the bar were a dirty blond and a brunette with curly hair, both in impossibly tall heels.

“Can we buy you ladies a drink or two?” Hep said to them.

Samantha and Cindi turned and their faces fell.

“Oh, shit, what the fuck do you guys want now? I thought we were rid of you,” Samantha said.

Cindi had crossed her arms.

“Well, we were in the neighborhood, and thought we’d stop by and give you each a small token of our esteem, for the blanket and the ride,” Hep said.

“It only seemed right,” Scroat said, grinning.

“Really?” Samantha said, skeptical.

“Really,” Hep said. He put the keys to the bikes they’d bought in Bend on the bar in front of them. “They’re parked outside. Titles are under the seats. We were in a tight spot and you helped us out, so, thanks.”

“Is this a scam?” Cindi asked.

“Nope. Now, can we buy you a couple of drinks?”

Samantha smiled. “Sure, but we’re not going back to any boats again.”

“A-fucking-men,” Scroat said.


Hep and Scroat bummed rides, hitchhiked and rode public transportation the rest of the way back to Los Angeles. Ares was happy to see them when he picked them up at the bus terminal.

“Hey, how was the trip?” he asked.

“Same old shit,” Scroat said. “Drunkenness, violence and kidnappings.”

“Man, sounds like I missed out on a good time,” Ares said.

“Not so much,” Hep said.

Their bikes were under a tarp in Ares’s garage. As expected, both of them started immediately, as if they’d just been running an hour ago.

“Thanks for taking care of our bikes, Ares,” Hep said. “We’ll see you around.”

“Aren’t you going to stay for dinner? I know a killer pizza place,” Ares said.

“Nope. It’s time to get back home and take care of things there,” Hep said.

“Well, you know, if you need something, or something needs killing, I’m usually around,” Ares said.

“Thanks again. See ya,” Hep said. He and Scroat pulled out of Ares’s garage, and started the long ride home.


They arrived back on their property about seven hours later. There wasn’t much left, but Hep was happy to see that his anvil and forge were still there and just fine, apart from being covered in soot.
And there was a new addition on their land. A thirty foot travel trailer. Neither Hep nor Scroat recognized it. Hep walked up and found a note on the front door. It was from his neighbors down the way.

Figured this would be better than a tent while you rebuild. The key is on top of the door frame. Stop by when you get back and say hello.

“Well, that was awfully nice of them,” Hep said. He found the key, and opened up the trailer. He and Scroat went inside to check it out. Apart from smelling like cigarettes and dogs, with carpet right out of the seventies, it was pretty nice.

It would do for now.

The End.



Nanowrimo 2010 Winner! Final word count: 50,019.

Thanks for reading!


Monday, November 29, 2010

Chapter Twenty Eight

The interior of the casino looked like any other, except for the people inside. Hollywood tells us that Las Vegas casinos are full of glamorous people celebrating their own glamor, reality tells us that it’s actually mostly retirees and ordinary people plugging their money into machines for thirty seconds, or less, of adrenaline. Hollywood doesn’t tell us, however, that outside of Las Vegas are the casinos where the people who aren’t fit for Last Vegas go. Cut rate casinos for cut rate people. This is where you’ll find small time hustlers, junkies, drop outs and the rest of the bottom of the barrel.

Scroat felt right at home.

The two of them wandered through the casino as they had in Las Vegas, looking for Inktomi. He would be easy to spot; he would be the one who wasn’t strung out, drunk, or retired.

They found him playing blackjack at a table with no one else. As he finished a hand, Hep and Scroat sat down on either side of him, and stared directly at him.

“Hey buddy, I think it’s time you took a break for a while,” Hep said to Inktomi. The dealer discreetly vanished, although ten cameras were trained on them, watching their every move. “What do you say we step outside?”

“Hep! Scroat! Man, you wouldn’t believe how relieved I am to see you two,” Inktomi said.

“You’re right, I probably wouldn’t. Would you mind telling me what happened to my house?” Hep said.

“Yeah, OK,” Inktomi said. “I think it would be better if we went outside though.” He then whispered, “They can hear every word we say in here, you know.”

“After you, then,” Hep said. The three of them got up and went through the casino to the front door. Outside there was a fresh batch of low-lifes leaning against the wall, smoking, talking on the phone, making deals and trying to hook up with whatever or whoever they needed.

“Why don’t we go for a ride?” Inktomi said, and gestured towards his car.

“Sweet. Let’s roll over to this brothel,” Scroat said, and waved the flier he’d gotten while talking to Coyote. “I’ve got enough cash I bet I can talk them into four for two!”

Hep rolled his eyes, but Inktomi said “Sure, why not.”

They got into his car and Inktomi started it up. The big V8 came to life, already drinking gasoline like it was water, and he hadn’t even put it in gear yet. He pulled out of the parking spot, and got back on to the main road through town. It felt like the car was floating on clouds. Great, tobacco and oil scented clouds.

Before long they had reached the end of a small road, and there they found the great, glittering brothels. Hep was again overcome by the surreality of a Disney-like building advertising pleasures of the flesh in the middle of the barren desert. But then, where would such a building seem normal?

Inktomi parked, and Scroat practically broke the door off in his rush to get out of the car and into the brothel. He rang the buzzer, and waited. Hep and Inktomi arrived just as the doorman said “Come in,” through a speaker, and buzzed the gate open.

They went inside, and there the unoccupied whores were lined up. The room was dark, and there was a blacklight on, which made it difficult to see anything besides a lot of welcoming skin. The madame greeted them, and asked what their pleasure would be.

Scroat held up his flier and said “I’d like this, twice, please.”

“And you gentlemen?” she said to Hep and Inktomi.

“I think we’ll just just avail ourselves of your bar, if you don’t mind, while he’s busy,” Hep said.

“Right over there, gentlemen,” the madame said.

Hep and Inktomi went to the bar and ordered a couple of drinks, then settled in to a couple of the easy chairs scattered about the room. The bar was brighter than the entryway, but only a little bit. There was a fireplace and, oddly enough, a small library. Hep wasn’t sure if any of the books on the bookshelves had ever been opened, but they definitely gave the bar a little extra class. The bookshelves, bar and tables were all made of dark wood, and the upholstery was all deep red fake leather. It did not escape Hep’s attention that such materials would be easy to wipe clean.

“So,” Hep said, “what happened to my house?”

“Man, I’m so sorry,” Inktomi said. “I was just hanging out, minding my own business, when this guy came to the door. I opened it before I recognized who it was. It was this guy I’d cleaned out playing Texas Hold ‘Em the week before.”

“You were cheating?” Hep said.

“Of course I was cheating, who do you think I am? But I wasn’t cheating all that much. Anyway, he was all bent out of shape, threatening all kinds of crap, so I decked him, and shut the door,” Inktomi said.

He took a sip of his drink, wiped his lips, and continued, “Well, I guess he didn’t take too kindly to that either. I heard him tear off in his car. About an hour later, he came back, and kicked in the door. He had a shotgun, and he demanded that I get out of the house. Well, I wasn’t going to argue with a crazy bastard waving a gun around, so I went outside and right away I could smell gasoline, or kerosene, or something nasty. He kept me at gunpoint, and said ‘this is what happens to people who rip me off,’ and then lit a zippo and threw it onto a puddle of fuel. Then he told me to run, and you’d better believe I didn’t wait for him to tell me twice.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hep said. “My house got burned down because of your gambling problem?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” Inktomi said.

Scroat wandered into the bar then, wearing a white bathrobe, flip flops and a shit-eating grin.

“You just wouldn’t believe what a fantastic day I’m having all of a sudden,” Scroat said.

Hep looked at his watch. “Are you done already?”

“Fuck no! That was just round one. I gotta get my strength back, and then it’ll be round too. Excuse me, I need to get a drink,” Scroat said. He went over to the bar.

Hep was about to ask Inktomi another question, when he noticed someone standing in the entrance to the bar, watching them. He turned to see who it was.

It was Robert Wheeler, and he had a small pistol clenched at his waist in his right hand.

“Hello, Hep,” Robert said. “It’s good to see you, yet again. And Inktomi, what a pleasant surprise.”

Scroat was just coming back from the bar with a gin and tonic, when he spotted Robert.

“You! You motherfucker, what the fuck are you doing in my whorehouse? Get out of here before you scare all the girls into a life of purity and chastity,” Scroat said.

“Sorry to disturb you when you were, ahem, relaxing, Scroat, but this couldn’t wait.”

“What couldn’t wait?” Hep asked.

“Well, my meeting with Inktomi, of course. The one where he either gives me the money he owes me, or I kill him,” Robert said.

“How much did you con this guy for?” Hep asked Inktomi.

“Seventy thousand dollars. Isn’t that right, Inktomi?” Robert said.

“Something like that,” Inktomi said. He was staring at the floor next to Robert’s feet.

“Of course, with interest, that brings it up to an even one hundred thousand,” Robert said. “So, let’s talk business, shall we?”

He stepped closer to Inktomi, which gave Hep the advantage he needed to grab Robert and wrestle him to the floor. Robert dropped the gun, and Inktomi kicked it across the room. The bartender watched all of this with some amazement.

“Scroat, get over here,” Hep grunted as he held a struggling Robert Wheeler pinned to the floor.

“What?” Scroat said, still holding his gin and tonic.

“Give me your belt,” Hep said.

“Excuse me?” Scroat said.

Hep reached up with one hand and tore Scroat’s belt free. He used it to deftly tie Robert’s hands behind his back.

“HEY!” Scroat yelled, now clutching his drink in one hand, and keeping his robe closed with the other.

“Sorry,” Hep said. He hauled Robert Wheeler to his feet, and said to Inktomi, “I think we need to go out to your car, don’t you?”

“What? Oh, yes, I suppose so,” Inktomi said. “I’ll just, uh, grab that gun.”

He hustled over, picked up Robert’s gun, and stuck it in his pocket. The bartender watched closely, but didn’t say anything. He was ready to call the police if necessary, but only if it looked like blood was actually going to be spilled on the premises. Police reports were bad for business.

“Well, looks like you guys have things under control, so I’ll just stay here and see about my second special,” Scroat said.

“Sorry, Scroat, it’s going to have to be another day. Get dressed and meet us outside,” Hep said.

“Fuck! You fucking guys, always wrecking my good time. Robert, I’ve got half a mind to kick you so hard in the nuts everything you eat for the next year will taste like peanut butter and jelly.”

“Yeah, yeah, Scroat. Clothes! Outside!” Hep said. He pushed Robert outside, while Inktomi followed behind him.

“What are we going to do with him?” Inktomi asked.

“We’re going to put him into the trunk of your car and drive out into the desert and have a nice little chat with our friend Robert here. Maybe we’ll find out a bit about why he thought burning down the house of a couple of gods was a good idea. And maybe we’ll find out how come he kept showing up everywhere we’ve been on this trip,” Hep said.

Inktomi opened the trunk of the Cadillac. It was remarkably clean.

“Look at that, you’ll be riding in comfort, man. Now, you can get in there nicely, or I can cram you in there backwards,” Hep said to Robert.

Chapter Twenty Seven

Hep and Scroat parked their motorcycles in the Binion’s garage. Hep was worn out and hungry, but Scroat’s energy and enthusiasm had no apparent bounds. He was, in fact, dancing somewhat as they walked to the elevator that would take them down to the casino.

“We’re in Vegas! We’re in fucking Veeeegas!” he sang. “Good things come to those who wait!”

“Yes, we’re here. Try to remember we’re looking for Inktomi, not just a good time,” Hep said.

“Who said we can’t have a good time while we look for Inktomi. Besides, it sounds like we’re just going to have to cruise on over to the blackjack tables and grab him. And then it’ll be fucking party time.”

“We’ll see,” Hep said.

“Don’t be a downer, Hep. It’s against the law in Las Vegas,” Scroat said.

The elevator was uncomfortably small, and poorly lit. As soon as the door shut, Hep wished very strongly that he would have just taken the stairs instead. Scroat, apparently, hadn’t noticed.

The elevator reached their floor, and they walked out into a darkly paneled room. There was a stairway at one end of the room with a sign that directed them upstairs for the casino. They went up the stairs, and found themselves stepping back in time to old Las Vegas.

“Oh fuck yeah! Inktomi has fantastic taste,” Scroat said. “Let’s play some blackjack and then go find the hookers.”

“Let’s try to find Inktomi first, OK?” Hep said. The noise and crowd in the casino was a little much for him at the time. He hadn’t eaten or slept for twenty four hours. The wandered over to the blackjack tables, and walked past each table, looking for Inktomi. There was no sign of him. They checked the poker room, with no joy there either.

“Now what?” Scroat asked.

“Now we get some lunch, and hang out a bit, and see what happens,” Hep said.

There just so happened to be a lunch counter in the middle of the casino. Hep and Scroat grabbed a stool, and each ordered a couple of burgers. They had the counter to themselves for the time being, and the guy working the counter didn’t seem eager to converse, so they sat quietly, and watched the crowd. Hep was looking for Inktomi, and Scroat was just enjoying the seediness of it all.

Their food was delivered, and they both ate with great enthusiasm. When they were done, the two of them walked through the entire casino, looking for Inktomi. He wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Maybe he’s in one of the other casinos,” Scroat said. “He might have gotten thrown out of this one, or just decided it didn’t have the right mojo today.”

“Well, it won’t hurt to go check, I suppose,” Hep said. They left Binion’s, and walked down Fremont Street, hoping for a clue, or even a hunch, that would lead them to where Inktomi was holed up.

As they were walking, Hep saw someone he recognized. They walked over to where he was standing, leaning against a wall and watching people walk by.

“Coyote?” Hep said.

“Hey! Hep and Scroat! How are you guys doing? Did you come to Vegas for a little action?”

“Not exactly. How about you?”

“Well, I’ve been running a simple con, until my partner ran off. I haven’t seen her for a couple of days now and I don’t think she’s coming back. No big loss, I guess. This is Vegas. The place is crawling with small time hustlers. But what do you mean you’re not exactly here for action. What are you here for then?”

“We’re looking for Inktomi, have you seen him?” Hep said.

Coyote looked around, as if to see if anyone was listening in.

“He split,” Coyote said.

“Fuck!” Scroat said. “We still get to hang out in Vegas for a while, right Hep? Huh? Don’t we deserve a little fun?”

“What do you mean, he split? Do you know where he went? And why?” Hep said.

“We were playing blackjack, and some guy came up to Inktomi and whispered in his ear. Inktomi looked like he saw a ghost and said he was leaving once we finished the hand,” Coyote said.

“Did he say where he was going?” Hep asked.

“Yeah, he said he was going to hole up in Pahrump, and not to tell anyone where he went. But I figure I can trust you guys,” Coyote said.

“Who was the guy who talked to him?” Hep said.

“I don’t know. Some guy. Looked kind of bookish. A little tubby maybe, and pale,” Coyote said.

“Robert fucking Wheeler. I told you that guy was up to something,” Scroat said.

“It’s not Robert Wheeler. There are tons of tubby, pale nerds in Las Vegas,” Hep said.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure the guy said his name was Robert Wheeler,” Coyote said. “Hey, have either of you got a smoke?”

“See? I told you that guy was up to no good!” Scroat said.

Hep ran his hand over his face. What the Hell was going on, he wondered. It was bad enough that Scroat might have been correct the whole time, but what did this guy they had never even heard of before bumping into him on a highway one night want with them?

“Sorry, no smokes. Are you sure the guy said his name was Robert Wheeler?” Hep said.

Coyote nodded. “Yep, he whispered something into Inktomi’s ear, and then stood up and said something lame like ‘or my name isn’t Robert Wheeler,’ which I figured was a pretty good indication that his name was Robert Wheeler. It’s possible I misheard though. Everyone else at the table was distracted, so I pocketed a bunch of chips the guy next to me wasn’t paying attention to.”

“Well that’s just fucking awesome,” Scroat said. “There’s some psycho who’s been stalking us around the country, and now he’s chasing the guy we’re trying to catch.”

“Did Inktomi say where he was going to hide out in Pahrump?” Hep asked Coyote.

“No, but there are only a couple of motels there, and there aren’t too many people who drive brown Cadillacs from the early eighties anymore. And I don’t think he knows anyone who has a house there, so he should be easy to find.”

“Well, I guess we’d better get to Pahrump, then,” Hep said.

“What? No! We just got to Vegas. Inktomi is holed up there, so we’ll have a day or two before we need to go to Pahrump. We need to stay here!”

Just then a man walked up and handed them each a flyer. “Have a great time in Vegas,” he said.

Hep looked down and saw the flyers were for a brothel in Pahrump. Printed over the photos of barely dressed women was a “2 for 1” offer. He rolled his eyes.

Almost on cue, Scroat said, “You know what? I guess we could go to Pahrump. Priorities, right?”

“Right. Let’s go,” Hep said. “See you later, Coyote.”

“Yeah, man. Good luck. Don’t get in to too much trouble,” Coyote said.

Hep and Scroat went back through Binion’s. Scroat asked if he was sure they couldn’t stay for just a couple hands of blackjack. Hep told him they could gamble after they’d found Inktomi. They rode back up the scary elevator, which had not gotten any more comforting in the last couple of hours, and went over to their bikes.

“So how long of a drive is it to Pahrump?” Scroat asked.

“About an hour,” Hep asked.

“Sweet. In an hour and a half, I’ll be taking advantage of one Hell of a two for one special,” Scroat said.

“If we find Inktomi in less than half an hour, sure.”


The ride to Pahrump took Hep and Scroat over a mountain, and then it turned in to a straight shot across the desert. They started seeing huge, garish billboards for casinos, divorce lawyers, brothels, brothels with art galleries, more casinos, fast food and strip clubs (with brothels attached for your convenience) when they were about twenty miles outside of Pahrump. The juxtaposition between the billboards and the stark, barren desert was jarring, almost surreal.

They passed an RV parked on the side of the highway, selling various kinds of jerky. Hep hoped they’d be done with Pahrump in time to come back this way and buy some.

The first thing they saw when they rolled into town was an enormous strip club, with photos of the dancers twenty feet tall on the outside of the building. Up next was a run down strip mall, and then, curiously, a sign directing them to the Pahrump Winery.

A little further down the road, they found the first motel in town. Like the rest of the town, it looked like it had seen better days. Curious, because it had been built just five years ago.

Hep and Scroat turned into the parking lot, and cruised slowly through, looking for a ratty old brown Cadillac. There didn’t seem to be one, so they got back on to the main drag through town, and rolled on to the next. Once again, there was no sign of Inktomi. They stopped at each motel along the road, with no luck at any of them.

Hep was starting to get a little frustrated, when they turned into the parking lot for Terrible’s Town Casino. The place looked like an old west town right out of a Bugs Bunny cartoon, all bright, garish colors, with just a hint of sleaze. And right there, parked as close as possible to the entrance was an early eighties, brown Cadillac.

“I think this might be the place,” Hep said. He and Scroat found a parking spot, not quite as close to the entrance as Inktomi’s. They shut down their bikes, and walked towards the entrance. Hep felt rather ridiculous heading towards a cartoon casino, though the scummy looking people hanging around outside kept him from letting his guard down to far.

Hep opened the door, and they were hit by a blast of frigid air, and the constant racket of a casino. They walked inside.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Chapter Twenty Six

The ride to Minneapolis took about three and a half hours from Freyja’s house. Hep and Scroat stopped at a gas station to call the guy Freyja said might know where Inktomi was at.

“So who is this guy, anyway?” Scroat said.

“I don’t know. The note just says ‘James’ and has a phone number.” Hep said. “You were there for the whole conversation, so you know as much as I do.”

“Awesome. I bet it’s going to turn out to be that Robert Wheeler guy under a pseudonym.”

“Would you drop the Robert Wheeler thing?”

Hep found a quarter and went over to the payphone. It was on a post on the far end of the sidewalk, and looked like it had seen better days. It gave Hep a dial-tone, however, so he put in his quarter and dialed the number Freyja had given them. The phone rang six times before someone picked up. Hep heard the quarter drop down into the phone.

“Who’s this?” said the voice on the phone.

“This is Hep. Are you James?”

“Yeah. Who’s Hep? I don’t know anyone named Hep. Why are you calling me?”

“I’m a friend of Freyja. She gave me your number.”

“OK, Hep the friend of Freyja. What do you want?”

“Freyja said you might be able to help us find Inktomi.”

There was silence for several seconds. Hep was about to ask if James was still there when he heard him inhale.

“Meet me at Nye’s Polonaise Room in an hour.”

“Um, OK,” Hep said. “How will I know it’s you?”

“I’ll find you. Order a blueberry daiquiri. I’ll look for the guy with the girly drink. See you in an hour.”

The phone clicked.

“Rude,” Hep said. He put back the handset, and turned back to Scroat.

Scroat looked at him as though he was waiting for him to say something.

“So?” Scroat said. “Is he going to help us out, or what?”

“I think so,” Hep said. “We’re supposed to meet him at some place called Nye’s Polonaise Room.”

“And then?”

“And then I guess he’s going to help us out. Or kidnap us, torture us and murder us. He wasn’t very specific. I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

“Great. I love mysterious meetings with people we don’t know. They always turn out so well.” Scroat said.

Across the street, lined up outside the entrance to a bar having a smoke, were a group of young men dressed mostly in black, in black trenchcoats, with black sunglasses. They seemed to be watching them. Hep noticed them, and waved. The group across the street did not wave back.

“Friendly here, aren’t they? Minnesota nice my sweaty ass,” Scroat said.

Hep looked up the street a ways, and noticed another couple people in black trenchcoats looking at them. Only this bunch were on the same side of the street as him and Scroat. When he looked back the other way, there were more of them, looking at them.

“That can’t be good,” Hep said. “I think we should get out of here before we find out what they want.”

The two of them hustled back to their bikes, started them up, and sped away. Hep kept a close eye on his rear view mirrors, checking to see if anyone was following them. He rode erratically, which frustrated Scroat, making sudden turns, lane changes and u-turns. In the course of the evasive maneuvering, they passed Nye’s. Hep made a mental note of where Nye’s was located.

When he was satisfied, they weren’t being followed, he pulled over to the side of the road on an empty street.

“What was that all about?” Scroat asked. “Do you know how hard it is to keep up with you when you’re pulling that kind of shit?”

“Yes, that was the point. I wanted to make sure we weren’t being followed.”

Scroat looked over his shoulder, and saw only empty road.

“Yeah, well, I guess we either ditched them, or no one was following us, huh?” he said.

“So it seems. Let’s go to Nye’s I guess,” Hep said.


Stepping into Nye’s was like stepping back in time to 1964. It was dimly lit, but the lights that were there were very colorful indeed. There was an organ in the corner, with it’s own bar around it, and an older woman was playing the organ and singing. There were plenty of dark tables with red vinyl chairs. It was perfectly, almost comically, sleazy, as any proper bar should be.

Hep and Scroat got a table, and a surly waitress came over to take their order.

“What can I get you, gentlemen?” She said.

“A blueberry daiquiri, and two beers,” Hep said. Scroat looked at him like he was insane. “There’s a reason,” Hep said, as if that explained the purpose of the blueberry daiquiri perfectly.

“Uh, I’ll see what the bar can do on that daiquiri. What kind of beer do you want?”

“I don’t know. What’s local, and good?”

“Well, we’ve got Summit in bottles, and Grain Belt Premium on tap.”

“I guess we’ll have Grain Belt Premium, then,” Hep said.

“I’ll have those for you in a minute,” she said, and walked away, leaving Hep and Scroat to enjoy the oddity of the place.

“You’d think this place would be chock full of hipster douchebags,” Scroat said.

“Yeah. I guess they haven’t gotten word about it.” Hep said.

They’d already had three beers, and the blueberry daiquiri, which the waitress had dropped off with obvious disgust, was now mostly just blueberry juice and rum, with an umbrella in it, when a guy in blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a biker jacket came over to the table and sat down.

“So which one of you is Hep,” the guy said.

“I am. You must be James,” Hep said.

The waitress came over to their table then.

“You want something to drink?” she asked James.

“Rum and Coke,” he said.

The waitress went away, and James said to Hep and Scroat, “So, what do you want with Inktomi?”

“Why should we tell you anything? We don’t know shit about you, asshole,” Scroat said. “Just tell us how to find him and go away.”

“I make it my business to know things. Right now, I know where you might find Inktomi, but I don’t know anything about you guys, except that you’re friends with Freyja. So, what do you want with Inktomi?”

Hep said, “Our house burned down after he’d stayed in it. We want to know if he’s OK, and then we want to know if he had anything to do with it.”

James sat back, and said, “Oh, he stayed in your house in Arizona. I’d heard he was going to Arizona, but didn’t know where he was staying. Yeah, as of last week, he’s still alive and relatively healthy. Are you guys good friends? He doesn’t talk about you too often.”

Hep looked over at Scroat, who seemed a touch pissed off.

“We’re not good friends anymore. Just old friends. Scroat here offered the house to him while we were traveling. We got back to find our house in flames.”

“Well that’s a real bummer. I guess you’ve got a compelling reason to find him then,” James said. He paused, then said, “You’re not going to kill him are you?”

“Depends on how we’re feeling when we see the fucker,” Scroat said.

Hep elbowed him in the side, then said to James, “No, we’re not going to kill him. We just want to know what happened to our house.”

“All right then, I might be able to tell you how to find him,” James said. “Man, I need a smoke though. Do you guys want to go outside and chat for a minute?”

“Sure, whatever,” Hep said.

James held up his pack of smokes when the waitress started to protest about them leaving, and said “we’ll be right back.”
Daylight was nearly blinding when they stepped out of the dark bar. They walked a short distance away from the door.

James took out a lighter and a cigarette, and had just put the flame to the cigarette when a group of young men dressed in black came around the corner.

“Oh, fuck,” Scroat said. Hep and Scroat turned to walk in the other direction, and found their path blocked by another bunch of young men in black clothes.

“What? What the hell do you want?” Hep asked them.

“We have a score to settle,” one of the young men said.

“What the fuck are you talking about? We’ve never even seen you guys,” Scroat said.

“You’ve met our brothers in South Dakota, I believe,” the young man said.

“Well, if they wouldn’t have been such dicks, we probably wouldn’t have bothered them,” Scroat said. “Fuck you guys. Fuck off back to your mom’s basement to play World of Warcraft or whatever it is you losers spend all your time on.”

“I think we need to teach you some manners,” the young man said. The other young men advanced on Hep, Scroat and James (who was trying his best to hide behind Hep and Scroat).

“Good fucking luck with that, bitches,” Scroat said.

One of the young men reacted by throwing a punch at him. A mistake, he would learn, as his brothers in South Dakota had learned. Scroat dodge the punch easily, grabbed the young man’s head, and drove it into his knee.

“OK, bitches, who’s next?”

The Minneapolis chapter of the Society of the Seven Seals swarmed on Hep, Scroat and James, or at least attempted to. The fact is, a bunch of inexperienced kids just aren’t much of a match for two gods who have centuries worth of brawling experience.

“I kind of feel bad beating up people so young,” Hep said to Scroat.

“Yeah, but they’re all soft and rubbery and fun to punch. I just can’t help myself,” Scroat said.

James watched all of this, unable to escape, with a mix of awe and horror.

Eventually there was only one member of the Society of the Seven Seals still conscious and standing, staring down two pissed of deities. Showing wisdom far beyond that of his companions, he turned and ran.

“See?” Scroat said, “And people are worried about the kids of today. They have at least a little bit of sense.”

They turned around to look at James, who was busily digging in his pockets, looking for a fresh smoke. He produced a cigarette, and lit it with shaky hands.

“That,” he said, and took a drag, “was some crazy shit.”

“Yeah, I know. So, I believe you were going to tell us where Inktomi is,” Hep said.

James took a look at the Society of the Seven Seals, spread around on the sidewalk. Some of them were coming around, getting up, and running off without looking back.

“You’re not going to do this,” he gestured at the aftermath with his cigarette, “to him, are you?”

“Not unless he really, really deserves it,” Hep said.

“Good enough, I guess,” James said. He took another drag, and said, “He’s in Las Vegas, counting cards or some shit like that. You’ll probably find him at Binion’s Horseshoe. He likes the burgers there, and he doesn’t care too much for the strip.”

“Great, thanks,” Hep said. He turned and went back in to Nye’s to settle their tab. Scroat followed him in.

“See?” Scroat said. “I fucking told you we should have gone to Vegas.”

“Shut up, Scroat,” Hep said. He paid their tab, and the two of them went back outside, where James was finishing up his smoke.

“See you round, James” Hep said as he walked past.

“Yeah, later,” Scroat said.

“What the hell? You’re not even going to buy me a drink?” James said.

“Nope,” Hep said. He and Scrout got on their bikes, and pointed them towards Vegas. They had a twenty six hour ride ahead of them, and it was time to get moving.

Chapter Twenty Five

Hep and Scroat turned in for the night around midnight. Hep was extremely grateful for another comfortable bed. The sheets were soft and smelled clean, which was a very welcome change of pace. He quickly fell asleep.

Soon, he began to dream. At first, he was standing on a seashore. The sky was so dark it was nearly black. The seas were rough, and wave after wave crashed on the shore. There was a cold wind blowing, and it whistled in an eerie way, although in looking around Hep couldn’t identify anything for it to whistle through. The beach was endless in all directions, except for the ocean in front of him. The sand was perfectly smooth, and he could see the horizon anywhere he looked.

Apart from a strong feeling of foreboding, and a concern that he was about to get caught in a storm, there didn’t seem to be anything of interest going on.

There was a crunching sound behind him. Footsteps. He turned, and saw Scroat walking towards him.

“Hey Hep,” Scroat said.

“Hey. What are you doing in my dream?”

“What are you doing in my dream is what I want to know,” Scroat said. “There I was, enjoying the company of two ladies, one of whom was painted entirely blue, and now I’m stuck on some fucking beach lookng at your ugly mug. So, what do you want? Can I go back to my dream?”

“I didn’t bring you here. You can leave if you want to,” Hep said.

“I think I will. See ya,” Scroat said. He stood there a moment. Then a moment longer.

“Are you leaving?” Hep asked.

“Well, I thought I was. Seems like I’m stuck here in your dream,” Scroat said. He took a look around. “So... is this what you usually dream about? Kind of dull, isn’t it? A little depressing too. Maybe you should get some therapy.”

“This isn’t my usual dream, no. I dream about... nevermind what I dream about. Anyway, this isn’t a dream I’ve had before,” Hep said.

There was something in the distance on the water, barely visible at first, but getting bigger by the second. A ship. A great sailing vessel of old. In a matter of minutes it was just offshore, oddly still in tthe crashing waves.

“Fuck. Another fucking boat. You do realize I could be having freaky dream sex with a blue chick right now, don’t you?”

“I told you I didn’t bring you here,” Hep said.

“It’s still your fault,” Scroat said.

Hep closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them he discovered he and Scroat were standing on the deck of the ship. There were a lot of irritated looking sailors surrounding them.

“Hey fellas,” Scroat said. “Anyone seen a blue chick? She seems to have gone missing.”

“You are not welcome here, Hephaistos and Bama Pana,” said one of the sailors. He looked, for all intents and purposes, like a pirate. Peg leg, eye patch, bandanna and a red sash.

“Great! We’ll be leaving then. Have a nice sail,” Hep said.

“No jokes!” the pirate said. “You are not welcome near any great body of water. Get away, or we’ll come for you.”

Hep and Scroat looked at each other, then at the motley assortment of sailors on board. There were men dressed in clothes that went out of fashion three thousand years ago among men wearing recent Navy uniforms.

“And who are you, exactly?” Hep asked.

“Ghosts of those claimed by the sea. We are her servants now,” the pirate said.

“Oh, well fuck, I was worried you were someone who might actually be a threat,” Scroat said.

One of the other sailors, a man with an enormous moustache and dressed in the uniform of the yachting elite from eighty years prior, suddenly stepped forward and punched Scroat in the gut. The air whooshed out of him, and he gasped.

Hep was taken aback. He’d never seen a ghost actually attack a god before, and actually make contact. Then he remembered they were in a dream.

“Hey, let’s take it easy here,” Hep said. “We’ve been trying to stay away from the ocean, but most of the damned planet is water. We can’t avoid it all the time.”

The pirate stepped closer to him. “Stay away, you are not welcome here.”

The pirates breath reeked of decay. Hep pulled back a little bit, and closed his eyes. When he opened them once more, he discovered they were in the kitchen at Freyja’s house. Except the ceiling was missing, and the sky above was still nearly black and threatening rain.

“Where the fuck are we now?” Scroat said. “This has gone about far enough, I think. You guys pulled me away from two horny dream women to threaten me on a damn boat? I was already happy to stay away from the damned oceans. Fuck the oceans, I say!”

“What the Hell are you doing in my house?” Freyja said. She came in to the kitchen wearing a cloak of falcon feathers, and carrying a sword.

The sailors turned to look at her. “You were not called,” the pirate said. “This does not concern you.”

“It concerns me when it’s in my house,” Freyja said. “Leave now, or you will feel the sting of my sword. Away! Back to Poseidon with you!”

Rather than leave, the sailors attacked her. Hep and Scroat didn’t waste a moment in joining the fight against the sailors. Hep grabbed a sailor, dressed like a Navy officer from the early 1800’s, and threw him against the far wall. The ghost slumped to ground, apparently unconscious.

“I had no idea a ghost could get knocked out,” Hep said to Scroat, who was busy fighting a sailor of his own.

When he had a moment, Scroat said,”I didn’t either. You have some fucked up dreams, Hep.”

Freyja was making quick work of the other sailors, and soon the dream kitchen was littered with mangled ghosts and collateral kitchen wreckage from the brawl. Freyja picked up the pirate’s head, and said to it, “Do not return to my house. You are not welcome here.”

She dropped the head, and smiled at Hep and Scroat. “There, I think that’s taken care of. You can go back to your own dreams now.”

With that, she was gone, as was Scroat, and Hep slept a dreamless sleep for the rest of the night.


Hep was relieved the following morning, when he found the kitchen had not been destroyed in the real world. Freyja joined him in the kitchen shortly after he had poured himself a glass of water.

“That was some dream you had last night,” she said.

“Yeah, I guess,” Hep said. “Sorry to have disturbed you.”

“No need to be sorry. I don’t tolerate bullies in my house, especially bullies that smell like a dead fish’s asshole. So, are you in the mood for some breakfast? I could whip up some pancakes, bacon and eggs.”

“That would be great,” Hep said.

Right around the time Freyja had finished making breakfast, Scroat wandered in to the kitchen, yawning and scratching the back of his head.

“Good morning,” Freyja said to him.

“Morning,” Scroat said. “Man, I had the craziest dream last night. I dreamt that somehow I wound up in your dream, and we had to deal with a bunch of ghost pirates or some shit like that. But then our host showed up and kicked their asses.”

Freyja and Hep both stared at him.

“What? It was just a dream, right?” Scroat said.

“Incredibly enough, we all had the same dream last night,” Hep said.

“Oh,” Scroat said. Then, “Shit, So I really did blame you for pulling me out of a dream involving a blue woman?”

“Yep,” Hep said.

“Fuck. That’s kind of embarassing,” Scroat said.

“It sure is,’ Hep said. “But, hey, we still like you.”

“More or less,” Freyja said.

“Awesome,” Scroat said. “So, what’s for breakfast? You wouldn’t happen to have any cheese curds, would you?”

“Cheese curds for breakfast?” Freyja said. “I can’t think of anything more stomach churning than that.”

“Whatever. You can’t tell me that cheese curds with bacon and a cup of coffee wouldn’t be, more or less, the greatest fucking breakfast ever,” Scroat said.

“If you say so,” Hep said. “Anyway, Freyja is making pancakes, bacon and eggs. Want some coffee?”


After they’d eaten, Freyja asked them what their plan was.

“Well,” Hep said. “I guess we’ll just had to ride on South, and see if anyone down there might know where Inktomi is. I think he spent some time in Saint Paul recently. Someone there must know, or at least have a decent theory, about what happened to him.”

“I suppose that’s all you can do,” Freyja said. She paused, then said. “Hang on, I’ve got an idea. I’ll be right back.”

She left the kitchen, and Hep and Scroat could hear her rummaging through something elsewhere in the house. She came back with an address book and a stack of yellow sticky notes.

“There’s a guy I know in the Twin Cities who might be able to help you. I’m not sure, but he’s pretty well connected, generally speaking. At the very least, he might be able to put you in touch with someone else who knows for sure where Inktomi is.”

“Wow, that would be great,” Hep said.

Freyja flipped through several pages in her address book, muttered “Ah ha!” and started copying out the phone number. When she was done, she handed the sticky note to Hep.

“Here you go. This guy should be able to help you out. You’ll be well on your way to finding Inktomi in no time.”

“Great, thanks a lot!” Hep said. “And thanks for your hospitality too. You’ve really been far too kind.”

“Well, like I said, I haven’t had any company in ages. It’s nice to have someone visit. You should feel welcome here any time,” Freyja said.

“I really appreciate that. We’ll definitely stop back some time,” Hep said. “Once we’ve got our house rebuilt, you’ll have to come visit us in the desert.”

“That would be nice,” Freyja said. “Now, enough chit-chat. You two need to get rolling if you’re going to make it to the Twin Cities and find Inktomi today.”

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Chapter Twenty Four

Finding Freyja’s house took Hep and Scroat about twenty minutes. It was a charming little yellow house, with carefully tended landscaping. The driveway ran up next to the house, where there was a side entrance. When they parked, they were able to see a pen with a boar in Freyja’s back. The boar was laying along the side of it’s pen closest to the driveway, and watched Hep and Scroat with lazy interest.

“Hey there, Bacon,” Scroat said. “Are you going to be joining us for dinner tonight?”

Hep smacked him on the shoulder, and said, with some urgency, “That’s not a good boar to taunt.”

“Whatever. Just kidding, boar!” Scroat said.

The two of them went to the side door of Freyja’s house. The knocker was heavy iron, in the shape of Thor’s hammer. It struck the door with a deep THUMP when dropped.

“I like her knocker,” Hep said.

“Which one?” Scroat said.

“Funny,” Hep said. “Can you try to show a little class while we’re here?”

“I can try, but I have to admit, I’m not likely to succeed,” Scroat said.

They heard footsteps approaching the door, and then Freyja was there, standing in the open doorway. She had long, straw colored hair reaching most of the way down her back, pale, pale skin, and deep blue eyes that seemed to look right through Hep and Scroat. She was almost too beautiful to look at.

“Um, uh, hi, Freyja,” Hep said.

“Yeah, hi,” Scroat said.

“Hello Hep and Scroat. Come in, come in, the coffee has just finished brewing,” Freyja said. She stood aside so they could walk through the door, then shut it behind them. “Welcome to my home. Would you mind taking your boots off?”

“Oh, yeah, OK,” Hep said. He looked around at the room they were in. It seemed they were in her living room. There were a large number of decorations made of woven straw hanging from the walls, as well as painted wooden horses scattered about on shelves and end tables. Freyja had several candles burning, and the room smelled strongly of bread and cinnamon. The furniture looked like it was rarely used, but was spotlessly clean. Impressive, considering there was a large cat laying on the couch, and a similarly sized cat laying on the arm of a chair.

“Let’s go into the kitchen. It’s more comfortable for coffee,” Freyja said. “I’ve got some cookies I just made last night as well.”

She led them into the kitchen. Hep and Scroat followed behind, unable to keep their eyes off of her figure. Her dress was modest, but did not hide the fact that there was a warrior woman underneath.

The kitchen was also spotless. There was a small table with four chairs around it, made out of a light colored wood. The walls were papered with a yellow and white pattern. Her stove looked as though it had been made in the 1950’s. It was very light blue.

“Please, have a seat at the table, I’ll pour the coffee,” she said.

Hep and Scroat sat down, and watched as she poured the coffee, and brought the three mugs to the table on a small tray, along with cream, sugar cubes, and a small plate of ginger cookies. She sat down, and handed each of them a cup of coffee, then offered the cookies

“Thank you,” Hep said, and took one.

“So, you’re looking for Inktomi, huh?” Freyja said. “What on Earth would you want to see him for?”

“I gather you’re not a big fan of his?” Hep said. He took a bite of his cookie, then said, “this is fantastic!”

“No, I’m not a fan of his. I don’t have much time for tricksters, anymore,” she said, and looked pointedly at Scroat. “And bad news always seemed to follow Inktomi. One house after another burnt down. But never mind that. Why do you want to find him?”

“Well, he might have burnt our house down,” Hep said.

Freyja looked surprised, then concerned, and said, “Oh I’m sorry to hear that. I hope no one was hurt.”

“No one that we know of,” Hep said. “There didn’t seem to be anyone around when we got home to find the place burning. And our house is in the middle of nowhere, so it’s not likely anyone was close enough to get hurt anyhow.”

“Well, I suppose that’s good,” Freyja said. She took a sip of her coffee, and primly set her cup down. “So Inktomi just up and disappeared after your house caught on fire?”

“Yeah. He was housesitting while we were traveling, and we got home just in time to watch the last bits of our house burn away. I’m kind of torn between wanting to kick his butt, and wanting to just know he’s OK.”

Freyja gave a sardonic laugh, touched Hep’s hand, and said, “I know exactly how you feel. You haven’t, by any chance, seen Odr during your travels, have you? The son of a bitch disappeared again about two hundred years ago, and I keep hoping to see him again every day, although I’m not sure if I’ll kill him or tear his clothes off when I do see him.” She looked around, as if to see if anyone was listening, and then whispered, “But between you and me, I’ll probably tear his clothes off. I can always kill him later.”

By the time they’d finished their coffee, it was nearly six o’clock. Hep had noticed the clock a few minutes earlier, and was beginning to worry about where they were going to sleep that night. It would be an awfully long haul back to Brainerd, and he didn’t want to impose on Thor’s hospitality. They were no strangers to finding a quiet spot to park and sleeping under the stars, but Hep expected it was going to get pretty cold once the sun had gone down. He tried to recall if there had been a motel in town, or nearby, then figured there must be given all the outdoorsmen who would come up here for hunting season.

For his part, Scroat was just worried about where they would be getting their next meal. He figured they should get moving soon to be sure they could secure another order of fried cheese curds before they had to go to sleep.

Almost as if she could tell what they were thinking, Freyja looked up at the clock and said, “Oh, my, it’s getting late already! You two will have to stay for dinner. I can throw something together quick.”

“No, no, that’s OK,” Hep said. Scroat kicked him under the table.

“It’s no trouble. You must stay. I have some bratwurst and can fry some potatos in no time at all,” Freyja said.

“Well, if you’re sure, that would be great,” Hep said. “Do you need a hand with anything?”

“No,” Freyja said. “Why don’t you go hang out in the living room, and I’ll have dinner ready in no time at all.”
“Great, thanks!”

They went into Freyja’s living room. Hep took a seat on the couch, while Scroat sat on the other chair in the room, the one not occupied by a gigantic cat. The cat that had been laying on the couch got up and climbed onto Hep’s lap, then laid down again. The other cat just stared at Scroat distrustfully.

“Man, none of the pussies in this house have any love for me,” Scroat said.

“You seem to have that problem everywhere,” Hep said.

The smell of cooking onions and sausage had their mouths watering a few minutes later. Before long, Freyja came to the doorway and told them dinner was ready. Hep shooed the cat off his lap as gently as he could. The cat protested with a curt meow, but got up and found a new spot to lay on the couch.

“I see you’ve made another friend, Hep,” Freya said. She smiled slightly.

“I suppose so,” Hep said. “Wow, dinner smells terrific.”

“Well, I hope you’ll enjoy it,” Freyja said.

Along with the bratwurst and potatoes, Freyja poured each of them a large glass of beer.

“I love you fucking Vikings,” Scroat said.

“Well, thank you, I suppose,” Freyja said.

Hep finished a big mouthful of potatoes and sausage and said, “Yum. So, uh, Freyja. I don’t mean to be rude, but what’s with the Suzy Homemaker persona? Don’t you take half the dead from battle?”

Freyja coughed slightly, and took a drink of beer.

“Well, that’s a little forward of you, Hep,” Freyja said. He blushed slightly, but didn’t look away. “But I suppose it’s a fair question. You were probably expecting to find my house was more similar to Thor’s than Betty Crocker’s. And I think there’s a simple answer for that. After several thousand years of being a warrior babe, if you will, a little civility is comforting.”

“Fair enough,” Hep said.

Freyja winked seductively at him. “If you want, we could arm wrestle later.”

After they’d finished eating, and had consumed several more glasses of beer, Freyja asked where the two of them were planning to stay that night.

“I’m not exactly sure. I think we’ll probably just find a motel, or we can always just park and sleep next to the bikes. We’ve done it plenty of times.”

“Well, you won’t be doing any such thing tonight. I’ve got a guest room with two comfy beds in it and I haven’t had a guest in it for years. You two will stay here. It’s decided.”

Hep and Scroat looked at each other. Scroat shrugged.

“Well, OK, that sounds great!” Hep said. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Freyja said. “Come on, I’ll show you the room.”

She led them out of the kitchen and down a short hallway to a cozy room. The walls were paneled with dark wood, and there were two single beds, one alone the wall on either side of the room.

“You can bring your things in here, and then we’ll play cards,” she said.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Chapter Twenty Three

Hep woke up to the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. He opened his eyes, and saw Thor in the kitchen making breakfast. Thor was wearing an apron with a coffee cup pattern, and fuzzy orange slippers. He noticed Hep was awake.

“Good morning Hep!” Thor said, enthusiastic as always. “I hope you slept well.”

“Yeah, thanks. It was the best sleep I’ve had in weeks,” Hep said. It was the truth, too.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Thor said. “Well, I’m sure you can find the bathroom on your own. Go ahead and get cleaned up. Breakfast will be ready in half an hour or so.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Thor,” Hep said.

There was only one closed room in the cabin, so Hep assumed that was where the bathroom was. He was correct. Inside was just enough room for a clawfoot tub, a small sink, and the commode. Hep decided there wasn’t likely to be another opportunity for a proper bath for some time, so he started filling the tub. He saw that Thor had left out towels and wash cloths for them. There was also a pink bottle of Mr. Bubble bubblebath soap on a small shelf above the tub. Hep grinned, and poured a good dollop into the tub as it ran.

After nearly a month of either skipping self-grooming altogether, or using the austere facilities on Poseidon’s boat and at the monastery, combined with terrible sleeping conditions, taking a bubblebath in a cabin was as close to heaven as he could imagine. He felt muscles he hadn’t realized were knotted relax, and sank deeper in to the tub.

Twenty minutes later, he climbed out of the bath a new man. He toweled himself off, brushed his teeth, dressed, and went to see if Thor needed any help getting breakfast ready.

Scroat was still sleeping, despite Thor banging around in the kitchen.

“Hey, do you need a hand with anything?” Hep asked Thor.

“No, thanks. It’s totally under control and going to be ready in a minute. Why don’t you wake Scroat up?”

Hep woke Scroat up, and pointed him to the bathroom. Then he went back over to the kitchen.

“There’s gotta be something I can do,” Hep said.

“Well, I guess the goats need some fresh water. You want to go out back and take care of that for me?”

“Sure,” Hep said. He put his boots on and went outside. Behind the cabin was a pen which held two goats. He found a hose, turned on the water, and went over to the pen to fill their water trough. The goats watched him suspiciously for a moment, then ignored him completely.

He went back inside, and found breakfast ready and waiting. There was ham, sausage, bacon, potatoes, eggs, toast, pancakes and plenty of coffee.

“You’re really too good to us,” Hep said to Thor.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is what I have for breakfast every day. Of course, I’ll be sharing with you today, so I suppose I’m going to need a big lunch,” Thor said.

About ten minutes later, Scroat joined them. “Man, I feel fantastic,” he said.

“So you slept well then? I told you I was saving that beer for a special occasion. There’s no sense in drinking it when you already feel fantastic. It’s best to keep it for when you’re low and tired.”

“Well, thanks. Man, this looks fucking amazing,” Scroat said as he eyed breakfast. He took himself a heaping plate of everything, and sat down to eat.

When they were done with breakfast, and sitting drinking coffee, Thor asked, “So what’s your plan for today? Are you planning to stay here again tonight? Because, you know, you’re welcome for as long as you need.”

“Thanks Thor. I guess we haven’t figured out our plan yet, but I was thinking we’d ride up to Two Harbors and see what we can learn there,” Hep said. “I guess we’ll have to play the rest by ear.”

“Well, like I said, if you need a place to stay, you’re welcome here any time,” Thor said.

“I appreciate that,” Hep said. He finished his coffee and said, “Well, what do you think, Scroat? Should we get rolling?”

“Yeah, I guess so. The sooner we get this shit done with, the sooner we can head home.”

Scroat put his boots on, and they went outside. Thor followed them to their bikes. He pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to Hep.

“Here’s Freyja’s phone number. I don’t know if she knows where Inktomi is, but she might have an idea of where you can start looking. Or she’ll at least give you some coffee,” Thor said.

“Awesome. I’ll give her a call if I get a chance,” Hep said. He stuffed the slip of paper in to his pocket, then climbed onto his bike. “I’ll give you a call if we need a place to stay tonight. Thanks again, Thor.”

Hep shook Thor’s hand, and fired up his bike.

“See you later,” Scroat said. He started his bike as well, and the two of them rode away from Thor’s cabin towards the nearest highway. It would be about two and a half hours to get to Two Harbors, and it was already ten thirty in the morning.

The ride to Two Harbors was mostly through dense woods on either side of the road, with an occasional farm thrown in, until they got to Duluth. From there, the road followed the coast of Lake Superior. The sky was grey and cloudy, and they noticed it was quite a bit cooler than it had been in Brainerd. Their first order of business in Two Harbors was to find a place to have some lunch.

They found a hole in the wall cafe that didn’t look too bad. Their menu was entirely uninspired, but they did have a lot of cheese-based dishes.

“What the hell are deep-fried cheese curds?” Scroat said as they looked over the menu.

“Well, probably exactly what it says right there. Cheese curds. Fried,” Hep said.

“Well, what the fuck is a cheese curd?” Scroat said.

“I dunno, let’s order them and find out,” Hep said.

The waitress came over and took their order. They’d decided on two bacon cheeseburgers, and an order of cheese curds.

“Anything to drink?” the waitress asked.

“Coffee,” Hep and Scroat said at the same time.

A few minutes later, to their great surprise, they learned that deep fried cheese curds were their new favorite food. The gooey, golden brown pieces of salty heaven were so good they asked for another order when the waitress came with their cheeseburgers.

When they finally finished lunch, their second order of business was to go and find a generous supply of drinking water. Fried, salty fat in large quantities will make a biker god powerfully thirsty. Luckily, there was a gas station with a convenience store nearby. They each bought a couple gallons of water to bring with them.

“Maybe the second order wasn’t such a good idea,” Hep said.

“The second order was a fucking brilliant idea. I say we drink up, and go back tomorrow to get some more,” Scroat said.

“You are a crazy, crazy man. And that sounds like a damn good idea,” Hep said.

With lunch and post-lunch recovery drinking water secured, it was time to try and find Inktomi. Hep and Scroat spent the next couple of hours cruising up and down each road they found in Two Harbors, looking for the wreckage of a burned house, or some other clue to let them know Inktomi had been there. And on each street, they found nothing. Not so much as a stray piece of charcoal.

Eventually, Hep decided it might be best to just call Freyja and see if she knew where Inktomi was at. They found a payphone, and Hep dialed the number Thor had given him.

The phone rang a few times, and a woman answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Freyja? This is Hep, Thor gave me your number.”

“Hep? I’m sorry, I don’t recall a Hep.”

“Hephaistos, God of Fire and such?”

“Oh, Hephaistos, hello! I remember you now. Thor thinks the world of you.”

“Well, Thor’s a good guy,” Hep said. “I don’t mean to be too abrupt, but I’m here in Two Harbors, and I’m looking for Inktomi. Do you know where he lives?”

“Inktomi? Wow. I haven’t seen him for two years, probably. Last I heard he’d gone further South because he was tired of the winter weather this far North.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know how to get ahold of him, would you?”

“No, we were hardly friends. We would say hello to one another if we happened to be at the post office at the same time, but otherwise we didn’t even talk on a regular basis.”

“Oh,” Hep said. Although he wasn’t surprised, he was somewhat disappointed. It would have been nice to just find Inktomi and be done with it.

“Oh, but you must come over for coffee,” Freyja said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had any visitors that weren’t family.”

“Well that sounds wonderful. I have my roommate, Scroat, with me. Do you mind if he comes along as well?”

“Oh, yes, Scroat. Do you think he can behave himself in a civilized manner long enough for coffee?” Freyja said.

“Well, no, to be honest, but he’s kind of fun to have around all the same,” Hep said.

Scroat looked at him, having overheard the last bit of conversation. “What the fuck are you telling her about me?” he stage whispered to Hep. Hep shook his head, and mouthed “Not now.”

“Well, he is of course welcome as well. Let me give you my address. Will you need directions?”

“No,” Hep said. “I think we’ll be able to figure out how to get there.”

He got her address, and said “We’ll see you soon.”

“What was that?” Scroat asked.

“I guess we’re going to have coffee with Freyja,” Hep said.

Chapter Twenty Two

They had stopped in Fargo to call ahead and make sure Thor was home before they rode the rest of the way to Brainerd. Thor said he would be around, and that they were welcome to show up any time.

Hep and Scroat actually arrived at his house, a cabin, really, around nine o’clock p.m.

They had just shut down their bikes when an enormous, cheerful Viking came out of the cabin to greet them. He strode over to Hep and Scroat and gave them both a bone-crushing handshake. He wore a flannel shirt and had long blonde hair spilling out from under his stocking cap.

“Hey Hep! Hey Scroat! It’s wonderful to see you. It’s been too long. You must be exhausted. Come inside, I’ve got some roast beef in the oven and a fresh pot of coffee going,” Thor said.

“Hi Thor, it’s great to see you too,” Hep said.

They walked in to his cabin. There was really only one room, with a ladder leading up to a loft. There was a sitting area, and a kitchen area. The decorating scheme was rustic. There were animal heads mounted on the walls, and the furniture looked as though it had all been hand made by a guy with an axe and a lot of enthusiasm. There was a fire going in a stone fireplace, and animal skins spread out on the floor.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” Hep said.

“Thanks! It’s simple, but it’s home,” Thor said. “You can drop your stuff where ever. You’ll be sleeping in here. I sleep up in the loft. I’ve got some more blankets we can throw down on the floor, so you should be pretty comfy.”

“Great, thanks. I really appreciate you helping us out like this,” Hep said.

“It’s the least I can do. Come on, let’s have some meat and coffee, and later I’ve got some beer I’ve been saving for a special occasion,” Thor said.

He led them over to a massive oak table that dominated the kitchen.

“Some table, huh? This is where I do pretty much everything. Have a seat, I’ll fix you up some plates.”

Hep and Scroat sat down at the table, and shortly after that Thor brought over a couple of plates piled high with roast beef and potatoes. He also brought over a coffee pot and a couple of brown ceramic mugs.
“I fucking love you, man,” Scroat said as he looked at the huge pile of meat Thor had given him. “You wouldn’t believe the garbage I’ve had to eat for the last several weeks. It’s amazing I have turned into a fucking hippie, from the crap I’ve been fed.”

“Well, you won’t find any hippie food here,” Thor said, and laughed.

Hep and Scroat ate with great enthusiasm. Afterwards, the three of them moved from the table to the sitting area to drink beer and talk.

“So what are you doing in my neck of the woods?” Thor asked. “Just out for a ride?”

“Well, no, it’s kind of a long story,” Hep said.

“A long, painful, fucking retarded, story,” Scroat said. “You see, our house fucking burned down right when we got back from a trip. We arrived to watch the last of the wreckage burn.”

“Oh no!” Thor said.

“Yeah, and we kind of think Inktomi might know something about it, since Scroat invited him to house sit,” Hep said. “So we’ve come up here to try and find him and see what he can tell us.”

“When did this happen?” Thor said.

“What do you think? Three weeks ago? Four?” Hep said to Scroat.

“Yeah, something like that,” Scroat said.

“What took you so long to get here? It can’t be more than a three day ride from Arizona,” Thor said.

“Well, funny thing,” Hep said. “Ares showed up and offered us a place to stay. Then he hooked us up to crew for Poseidon who was sailing up to Alaska. That didn’t quite work out when Scroat, or one of his lady companions, punched a hole in the side of Poseidon’s boat.”

“I did not! I’m telling you, I don’t know where that fucking hole came from,” Scroat said.

“Whatever. So that left us stranded in Brookings, Oregon. We caught a lift to Bend, found a couple of motorcycles, and started riding East when we met a monk who said he’d been ordered to offer us assistance. So, we went to the monastery, rescued a couple of kidnapped people, and now we’re here,” Hep said.

“You forgot about Robert Wheeler showing up fucking everywhere we go,” Scroat said.

“Oh, yeah. And Scroat thinks this guy Robert is out to get us because we’ve bumped into him three times,” Hep said.

“Man, that is a long story,” Thor said. “Why didn’t you stay and rebuild your house? Or just come up here to find Inktomi?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question for this whole trip, man,” Hep said.

“I’ve been telling him we should just bail on all this crap and go to Vegas,” Scroat said. “But he won’t listen to me. He says we need to keep moving East to avoid Poseidon, who’s just been a real bitch about the hole in his boat. I told him we’d fix it, so I don’t know what his problem is.”

“Well, you knocked a hole in his boat. Boats are kind of his thing, you know,” Thor said. “So, do you know where Inktomi is?”

“Nope,” Hep said. “We were hoping you might have an idea.”

“Last I heard he was up in Two Harbors, but that was late last year. You know how much he moves around.”

Hep slumped down on the couch a little further and took a big drink from his mug of beer.

“Yeah, he’s not very good about settling down for long. Of course, if he didn’t somehow burn down every house he lived in, he might be able to stick around a while longer,” Hep said. “Still, it probably wouldn’t hurt to cruise up to Two Harbors and see if he’s around somewhere. Maybe someone up there will know where he is.”

“Could be,” Thor said. “I think Freyja is living near there. You might visit her and see what she knows.”

“Yeah, maybe we will,” Hep said. “I hate to bother her, though. We can probably just roll through town looking for burned down houses and ask the neighbors what they know.”

“Well, it’s your call. I’m sure Freyja wouldn’t mind some company though,” Thor said. He looked up at the clock. “Oh, wow, you guys must be wiped out and here I’m keeping you awake. Let’s continue our conversation in the morning. Skol!” He raised his mug of beer and finished it off. Hep and Scroat did likewise. “I’ll grab you a couple of blankets.”

Thor climbed up into the loft, and started rummaging around. Hep and Scroat, meanwhile, got to work arranging the lamb skin rugs into a more comfortable sleeping configuration. Thor came back down a few minutes later with a stack of wool blankets.

“Do you need me to throw some more wood in the stove? Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Thanks, Thor,” Hep said.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“Not a thing. Good night, Thor.”

“OK, good night!”

Hep and Scroat each grabbed a couple of blankets, and laid down. Hep was surprised how comfortable a sheep skin was to lie on. It was, in fact, more comfortable than the bed at the monastery had been. He was cozy and warm under the blankets, and was soon quite drowsy. Naturally, Scroat started talking and woke him up again.

“Do you think we’re actually going to find Inktomi in Two Harbors?” Scroat asked Hep. Hep started slightly, and took a deep breath before answering.

“I think it’s pretty unlikely that he’s still there. But maybe someone will know where he went next. We’ll be able to track him down eventually.”

“I’m starting to wonder if it’s going to be worth all the fucking effort. I mean, really, what are we going to to? Rough him up a bit? Demand that he help us rebuild? Would we even want him to help us rebuild? You know he doesn’t have any money, the fucker is always broke.”

“That’s true. I guess I just want to know if he was responsible, or if someone else is fucking with us.”

“You know who’s fucking with us? That Robert Wheeler guy. He’s involved somehow, I just know it.”

“I think you’re paranoid,” Hep said. “He’s just a guy who’s having a run of bad luck at the same time we are.”

“In the same places we are? Come on, man.”

From up in his loft, Thor said, “Hey, uh, don’t forget the open floor plan in here, guys. I’d like to get to sleep, if you don’t mind.”

“Sorry,” Hep said. To Scroat he said, “We’ll figure this all out in the morning. Good night.”

“G’night,” Scroat said. A few minutes later, he was snoring.

Hep, however, was wide awake again. He tried to relax and get back to sleep, but his mind kept running in different directions. Where the hell was Inktomi? Where would he have gone after staying at their house and, possibly, setting it on fire? And what was up, after all, with this Robert Wheeler fellow? It did seem like the guy was showing up an awful lot. He didn’t know if Robert was the one causing their problems, or if the person (persons?) messing with them were also messing with Robert.

Hep suspected someone was also messing with Robert, because if he were going to stalk someone, he probably wouldn’t do it by being stranded in a lifeboat, and then getting kidnapped and locked in a closet with a monk. And it wouldn’t make sense for someone who was out to get them to keep sticking himself in their faces. Unless there was something seriously wrong with him.

He decided it would all become obvious in time. Eventually, Hep slept as well.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Chapter Twenty One

They arrived back the monastery late the next morning. Brother Larry came out to greet them as soon as they arrived.

“See? We were back within forty eight hours. No sweat!” Hep said.

“I’m very relieved to see you all. Hello Brother Stuart, hello Robert, I’m glad to see you are both unharmed,” Brother Larry said.

“Hey, what about us?” Scroat said.

“I kind of figured you’d come back unscathed,” Brother Larry said.

“Well, a little politeness never fucking hurt anyone,” Scroat said. “We did save them from a bunch of surly twenty year olds, after all.”

Brother Larry ignored him. He noticed the scratches on the van. “What happened there?”

“The Society of the Seven Seals keyed your van, sorry to say,” Hep said.

“I hope our insurance will cover that.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll buff right out,” Scroat said.

“Really?” Brother Larry said.

“No.”

“Well, come inside, we’ll fix you up with something to eat, and I imagine you’ll all need to rest for a while.”

He led them inside, and took the four of them directly to the kitchen. He pointed out the breadbox and the toaster, and retrieved a institutional sized jar of peanut butter from a cupboard, and strawberry jelly from the refrigerator.

“This should hold you over for a while.”

“We risk our necks to save these two assholes, and our reward is fucking peanut butter toast?” Scroat said. “That’s just bullshit.”

“We’re a monastery. I’m sorry to tell you we’re hardly rolling in money for rewards and fancy food.”

“Fine, fine,” Scroat said.

After they had eaten, Brother Larry led them back to the room they had been staying in, and opened the room next door for Robert and Brother Stuart.

“Sleep well,” Brother Larry said. “I imagine you’ll need it.”

“Thanks,” Hep said. “Goodnight, you two,” he said to Robert and Brother Larry. He and Scroat went into their room and collapsed on to their beds.

“I’ve had it with this monk shit, Hep. We need to get the fuck out of here before I loose my fucking mind,” Scroat said.

“Yeah, it’s time to move on, I think,” Hep said. “Let’s see if they can get any information about where Inktomi is currently hanging out, and go track him down.”

“Groovy,” Scroat said. They stopped talking then, and a few minutes were deeply asleep.


It seemed like they had only been asleep for a few minutes, but the monk who’d come to wake them for dinner said it was six o’clock. They went to the dining hall with Robert and Brother Stuart. There were seats reserved for all of them at the table with Brother Larry.

“You’re in luck,” Brother Larry said. “Tonight is spaghetti night. Brother Philip makes a mean garlic toast.”

“Great, I’m starving,” Hep said. Scroat seemed less impressed.

They ate, and it turned out that Brother Philip really did make a hell of a good garlic toast. The spaghetti was less spectacular, however. The sauce tasted like it came from a can, and Hep assumed that it actually did. He was incorrect, however. Brother Philip just hadn’t figured out how to make marinara sauce yet.

“So, I was wondering if you might be able to do us a favor,” Hep said to Brother Larry.

“Well, I guess it depends on the favor,” Brother Larry said.

“Do you think your guys might be able to give us a clue as to where Inktomi is currently living?” Hep said.

“Inktomi? The god? I don’t know how they’d be able to find that,” Brother Larry said.

“Well, you guys were able to find us without much trouble,” Hep said.

Brother Larry sighed, and said, “Yes, but we more or less knew where you were. There are only so many ways you can go East from Bend. On of our brothers there spotted you, and let Brother Aloysius know you were probably going to drive right past him. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have had a clue as to how to find you.”

“OK. But they could try, couldn’t they? Just for me?” Hep said.

Brother Larry thought for a minute, then said “I don’t see what it could hurt. I’ll have one of the start working on it.”

“I bet I could help,” Robert Wheeler said. “I won’t even charge you anything for this one.”

“Oh no, fuck that!” Scroat said. “We’re not relying on information from you. No way.”

“Lighten up, Scroat,” Hep said. “He’s not out to get us.”

“You’re being willfully naive, if you ask me,” Scroat said.

“Well, I’ll see what I can find. You can use the information, or not,” Robert said. He stood up and stepped away from the table. “Excuse me, I’m going to get started right now.”

Scroat sat, fuming. He didn’t eat the rest of his dinner.

Later, back in their room, Hep spread out several maps and tried to find the best route to Minnesota, assuming Inktomi would be back there, someplace. He realized pretty quickly that their route depended entirely on whether Inktomi was in the northern part of the state, or further south. He figured it would be best to go through North Dakota if they didn’t know where Inktomi was, in order to be sure they avoided the Society of the Seven Seals.

“Well, I guess now is as good of a time as any to turn in for the night,” Hep said. “Good night.”

“G’night,” Scroat said. He laid awake for quite a while, torn between excitement over finally being able to leave the monastery, and worry about the trap he was certain Robert was setting for them. Frankly, he just wanted to get home, maybe with a quick visit to Las Vegas. But, of course, he had to find out what had happened to their house, and if Inktomi had been involved. If he was, it wasn’t like Scroat could let that slide.

For his part, Hep was worried about getting to Minnesota without having another scrap with the Society of the Seven Seals, or a run in with Poseidon who, apparently, was still awfully upset.

Eventually, they both slept.



The following morning, they woke up at five o’clock, as usual. At breakfast, one of the monks came over to Hep.

He said, “As best we can figure, Inktomi is probably somewhere in Minnesota.”

Hep resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Some crack researchers. “Thanks,” is what he said though. No need to be rude.

He and Scroat ate their oatmeal, and both were relieved it was the last time for the foreseeable future that they would have to eat the lumpy grey muck. They made idle conversation with Brother Larry about where they planned to go next.

“Well,” Hep said, “I’ve got some friends in Minnesota who will probably be able to help us track down Inktomi. After that, I suppose we’ll just head back to the desert and try to rebuild, or figure something else out.”

“It sounds like quite an adventure,” Brother Larry said. “I’m jealous of how much of the country you two have managed to see.”

Robert Wheeler was conspicuous in his absence at breakfast.

After breakfast they went back to their room to gather what few possessions they had to bring with. They were heading for the front door when Robert Wheeler appeared.

“Hey, good morning, gentlemen,” he said.

“Hey, Robert,” Hep said.

“What the fuck do you want?” Scroat said.

“Well, I don’t mean to keep you long, just wanted to let you know I tried awfully hard to track Inktomi down, and I just couldn’t find a darn thing. I guess he keeps a pretty low profile,” Robert said.

“Well, thanks for trying,” Hep said. He was, honestly, a little disappointed. It meant they were going to have to ride through North Dakota, and then try to track Inktomi down in a big state full of places to hide without anyone noticing you.

Scroat, on the other hand, was entirely relieved. It meant they wouldn’t be trusting Robert to not lead them into a trap of some kind.

“Well, sorry, anyway, and I hope you have a smooth trip.” Robert said. “See you around.”

He turned around and went back down the hallway he’d come from.

“Better not,” Scroat mumbled.

Hep and Scroat walked outside, and got to work strapping the items they didn’t care to carry in their pockets to their bikes. The motors started right up, as usual, and minutes later the two of them were headed as directly East as they could manage. Neither of them really felt like puttering around on small side roads, so they were planning to shoot straight to Interstate 94, which would take them all the way to Minneapolis (and beyond, if they were so inclined). It would be a straight, high speed blast across North Dakota. Assuming everything went smoothly, the would be in Minneapolis by ten o’clock p.m., at the latest.

Of course, the last Hep had heard, Thor was living near Brainerd, and it would probably pay off to visit him. At the very least he’d probably let them crash on his floor, and it was likely he would know where Inktomi could be found, or know someone who might know.

It had been quite a while since he’d seen Thor, and Hep looked forward to seeing his old friend.

It took about two hours for them to reach Interstate 94. The ride, so far, had been pretty but dull. Which was good, in it’s way. The 94 would, of course, be dull as only an interstate can be. Straight and smooth, through the least interesting parts of any state, which is pretty uninteresting when it comes to North Dakota. It wouldn’t be a fun ride, but at least it would be fast.

Hep and Scroat opened their throttles wide, and passed fast moving truck after fast moving truck as though they were standing still. With luck, it would be four straight, boring hours to Fargo, and then a few more hours to Brainerd.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Chapter Twenty

Hep, Scroat, Robert Wheeler and Brother Stuart stopped to eat near Rapid City, South Dakota. The restaurant was called Harold’s Burgers and Beer. There were probably twenty motorcycles parked out front. Inside, the place had cheap tables, cheap chairs and cheap staff, but a good selection of beers, and the burgers the other patrons were eating looked fantastic.

They ordered, and tried to make awkward conversation while they waited for their food.

“So, uh, did they treat you reasonably well while they had you locked up?” Hep asked.

“Yeah, they weren’t too bad. It seemed like they didn’t really have a plan or know what they were doing,” Robert said.

“That’s good, I guess,” Hep said.

Scroat sat and stared at the table. After a few minutes of complete silence, Hep excused himself to the restroom, leaving Robert and Brother Stuart with Scroat.

“So,” Scroat said to Robert, “what are you up to, anyway?”

“I beg your pardon?” Robert said.

“You keep showing up at the most unlikely times. What are you up to? What do you want from us?” Scroat said. He leaned forward and stared at Robert. Brother Stuart looked confused and very uncomfortable.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Every time I’ve run in to you guys has been a complete coincidence,” Robert said.

“Well, that’s a pretty good story, but I don’t fucking believe you,” Scroat said. “I think you’re trying to pull something, some kind of con.”

“I’m not.” Robert said.

“I’m not either,” Brother Stuart said.

“Did I ask you?” Scroat said to Brother Stuart. To Robert, he said, “I still don’t believe you. How is it that you keep popping into our lives if you aren’t doing it on purpose?”

“I told you, it’s a weird coincidence. Back off, will you?” Robert said.

“Don’t get testy with me, dickhead. How is it that an ‘information broker’ as you call yourself, gets around so much. Shouldn’t you be in a library somewhere, researching things?” Scroat said.

“Yes, that’s exactly where I should be. Like I told you, it’s a coincidence. I got shanghaied, apparently, and then I was kidnapped by a bunch of bored farm kids. Which, by the way, totally sucked both times. The fact that I’ve kept bumping into you guys is just chance.”

“What the fuck ever, buddy, I...” Scroat began, but fell silent when Hep returned.

“Hey, did I miss anything?” Hep asked. Then he looked at the three of them. Brother Stuart looked like he desperately wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, else. Robert looked frustrated and a touch angry. Scroat, meanwhile, looked like he was about ready to burst from anger.

“I guess I did,” Hep said. “Care to enlighten me?”

“Scroat here thinks I’m following you for nefarious reasons, and setting up situations where we’ll encounter one another,” Robert said.

“Scroat, he’s not up to anything,” Hep said. “You really need to lose the paranoia.”

“Whatever. He’s up to something, it’s just a matter of time until we find out what,” Scroat said.

The waitress brought their burgers then, so the conversation ended.

“About how much longer of a drive is it from here to the monastery?” Brother Stuart said.

Hep said, “Eight hours, though it’ll be more like seven the way we drive.”

“Great,” Brother Stuart said. He seemed less than enthusiastic about another eight hours in a van with all the tension between Scroat and Robert.

Outside they heard several vehicles with loud exhaust pull up and park. They sounded too big to be motorcycles, so Hep and Scroat didn’t bother to look and see what they were on. Hep was about to try making some more conversation when he noticed that Brother Stuart suddenly looked freaked out. He was looking at the entrance to the restaurant, so Hep turned to look.

Looking through the restaurant, presumably trying to find them, were the kids they’d just encountered at the Society of the Seven Seals’s barn. Along with twenty or so of their meanest-looking friends.

“Well that’s probably not good,” Hep said.

“What’s not good?” Scroat asked. Hep pointed. The gang had spotted them, and were coming over to their table now.

“Please tell me you guys are armed,” Robert said.

“Nope,” Hep said.

Their table was surrounded by the Society members.

“Hey fellas, what’s happening?” Hep said in a cheerful voice. “Have you tried the burgers here? They’re amazing!”

One of the kids, presumably the leader of the group, said, “We were thinking about it, and we realized we really couldn’t just let you have these two back. So I think we’re going to take all four of you back to our compound and let you chill for a while. Now, do you want to do this the easy way, or the hard way?”

“Do people actually say that?” Scroat said to Hep. “I thought it was just an overused line in Hollywood.”

“Go easy on them, these are simple, salt of the earth folks,” Hep said. “Yeah, I don’t think we’re going to go the easy way.”

Brother Stuart’s eyes looked as though they were going to pop out of his head and make a break for it. Robert also seemed a bit worried about their predicament.

Hep and Scroat, however, were not intimidated by a group of youths wearing black t-shirts and too much Old Spice.

Several of the Society members grinned, and they reached to grab the four of them.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Hep said. He swung a fist up from under the table and connected solidly with the underside of the closest kid’s jaw. The kid fell over backwards into a couple of the other Society members. The entire group’s eyes went wide.

“What are you so surprised about?” Hep asked.

The group surged forward. Scroat and Hep grinned, and stood up. The Society of the Seven Seals didn’t stand a chance.

Almost at the same time, Hep and Scroat threw punches at the closest Society members. Things devolved into chaos very quickly.

One of the bikers saw the fight start, and yelled, “Brawl!” He and the twenty or so other bikers got up from their tables and went to get in on the action.

One of them tapped a Society member on the back. When he turned around, the biker said, “We don’t like people coming in to our favorite place and starting fights.”

“Fuck off,” the society member said. That was, as you might suspect, the wrong answer. It’s hard to say who swung first after this, but either way there was suddenly a forty man brawl in progress in Harold’s Burgers and Beer.

The Society of the Seven Seals were now fighting Hep and Scroat on one side, and twenty enthusiastic bikers on the other side. It would be fair to say they were caught between the hammer and the anvil.

Scroat grabbed one of them and said, “this is for making me have to deal with that fucking Robert guy again,” and cold-cocked him.

Brother Stuart and Robert Wheeler had absolutely no idea what to do. There was no where to run, as they were surrounded by fighting men on all sides. On the upside, any time it looked like someone was about to direct some hostility towards either of them, Hep or Scroat would, apparently without even breaking pace, intervene and make the aggressor very sorry for his mistake.

At one point, one of the smaller Society members, who couldn’t have been more than five foot five and one hundred and twenty pounds, found himself face to face with Hephaistos. He looked up and saw six and a half feet of muscular, ugly and angry blacksmith looking back at him. He wet his pants a little bit.

Hep gave the kid a tight, hard smile, and said “Take a hike.” The kid nodded once, and bolted.

Between the bikers, and Hep and Scroat, the fight was over in a couple of minutes. The Society members who were still conscious dragged their unconscious brethren outside, got into their trucks, and drove like Hell away from there.

“Stupid fucking kids,” Scroat said. “What did they think was going to happen?”

“Probably that we’d just give these two up,” Hep said. He went over to the bikers and told them he owed them all a beer. He turned around to go back and found Brother Stuart and Robert right behind him.

“Hey, guys,” Hep said.

“Uh, sorry. Just thought we’d stick close,” Brother Stuart said.

“No sweat,” Hep said. He took a look at the destruction in the restaurant. It wasn’t as bad as some brawls he’d been in before, but it was definitely going to take a while to clean up.

“We should probably scoot on out of here,” Hep said.

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Robert said.

The four of them went out to the van, and found it had been keyed. There were several deep, ragged scratches running all the way down both sides.

“Well, they sure showed us,” Hep said.

The four of them got into the van, and continued driving West towards Winnett, Montana. It started to get dark outside, and soon Brother Stuart and Robert were sleeping, each of them stretched out across a seat in the van.

“Kind of a weird day, huh?” Hep said to Scroat.

“It’s been kind of a fucked up day every day lately,” Scroat said. “I’m thinking we should drop these guys off, find Inktomi and ask what the hell happened, and then get our asses home to find a trailer or something we can live in until we get the house rebuilt. I could really go for a couple months of routine, if you can dig it.”

“Yeah, I can dig it,” Hep said. The idea of just being at home sounded very good. They could spend a couple of weeks building a new house, relax for a while, and then maybe go on a couple of rides that were just for fun, not running away from someone, or looking for someone else.