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.”