24: Pantheologia

Eris led Thoki through a natural rock tunnel. The wind picked up and buffeted Thoki against the wall.

“Wait here,” said Eris, looking serious for once.

Thoki nodded and hunched down to receive more warmth from his coat. He looked back to see if the others were following. Lor was keeping good pace, but Slepnir hung back, uneasily.

“Come on!” Thoki said beckoning to his brother.

The grey horse shook his head and champed nervously, his ears flat against his head.

‘”Don’t be such a baby, come on!” said Thoki. He began to walk back towards Slepnir when Slepnir reared and kicked the air. Thoki knew that if he got too close one kick would send his nose into his stomach.

“Alright! Alright! But stay here in the tunnel, okay?”

Slepnir gave a hesitant agreement and lay down on the soft snow in an area of tunnel that was the least gusty.

Eris poked her head back in. “We’re good. Come on!”

Thoki hesitated and Eris turned to regard him.

“It’s alright. C’mon!”

Thoki swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and followed her. He was getting a horrendous sense of déjà vu. The clattering of chains, the dark windy tunnel, the female voice beckoning to him. In a flash he was assaulted by his memory. It was just like when he was seventeen, and visiting his father’s prison for the first… And the last time. His heart gave a sickening shudder as he remembered that horrible day. As he approached the lip of the tunnel, he shook, expecting to see that wizened old bastard again, scarred and burned by the snake venom, with the keen cruel eyes of a sociopathic murderer.

Instead he saw Prometheus’ enormous form kneeling on a rock, worn smooth over the eons.  He was currently bleeding from a nasty gouge in his stomach, the edges were ragged and wrinkled with old scar tissue. The wound was staunching itself and, knowing Prometheus, the copious brown stains on his torso and lower legs were not all from today. Thoki knew his story; it was Trickster legend. Prometheus stole the sacred fire of the gods to give to his own creation, man, so that they could prosper. The gods would have let him off the hook, but then Prometheus got cocky again. He cheated the gods by burning fat and bones in offering to them and letting men keep the good cuts of meat, and for that Zeus chained him to a rock. Every day a giant eagle came to tear out his liver and eat it. Prometheus would heal and it would begin again the next day and every day for eternity. The Greeks didn’t have a Ragnarok so it only made sense that he was still here.

Jeez, thought Thoki. Loki didn’t get chained up even after he killed the sun god. He only got chained up after denying him the chance to come back. What an asshole.

                Thoki looked at the Titan deep in conversation with the giant avian. They seemed to be getting along great despite the fact that The Eagle’s job was to torture him every day.

Maybe it’s some kind of Stokholm Syndrome, thought Thoki with a shrug. Thoki wondered what sort of conversational companion The Eagle was. Did they discuss events on earth? Politics? Philosophy?

                The Eagle was waving his claw in the air, really getting into it, “So then Sheldon rents a karaoke machine and tries to invite other people to his house hoping that Leonard and everyone will come back from Raj’s house and hang out there again.”

                “And how did that work out?” asked Prometheus.

                Thoki listened in somewhat disappointed shock. He then leaned over to Eris, “Big Bang Theory? The Eagle’s relaying an episode of The Big Bang Theory to a millennia-old Titan?”

                “I know. Usually they just talk about how much they miss ‘Friends’. It’s nice to know the Eagle’s moved on.”

                Thoki didn’t get a chance to respond.

                “We’re back!” called Eris tentatively to the two titanic entities above her.

                “I see you brought him. He’s a bit short. Are you sure he’s Loki’s son?”

                “If you could call it that,” said Thoki with a shrug.

                Prometheus gave Eris a tiny (for him) nod.

                “So, you have some questions about the beginnings of days?” asked Prometheus.

                “I don’t suppose there’s any point in my beating about the bush, so I’ll just say that I’m looking for Isfat.”

                “The primordial chaos from which we were formed and which we will one day return to,” replied Prometheus. His voice was sonorous and deep, like a cheesy scifi narrator.

                “Sure, okay,” said Thoki with a shrug. “Know where I can find it?” he asked. “A stone at Heliopolis said it was at the Garden of Eden… I think. Where is that?”

                “What would you do with it if you found it?”

                Thoki scratched his head and rubbed his chapping hands. “I dunno. I don’t think I thought this out very well. I just think it’s important. It might not be the answer I’m looking for, but it might be AN answer, which is more than I got.”

                “What is the question, Thoki?” Asked Prometheus.

                “Why?” answered Thoki.

                “Because in order to receive an answer, you must have a question first.”

                “Are you kidding me with the bumper-sticker truisms here? Do I look like I need a lecture from Obi Wan Kenobi?”

                “Yeah, he’s Loki’s kid alright,” mumbled The Eagle. “He may look like a pussy but I’d know that smart-ass voice anywhere.”

 “Seriously though. I need a question,” said Prometheus, his voice instantly losing that mystical quality.

                “That was my question, stupid! ‘Why!’”

                Prometheus looked relatively interested in Thoki—the nervous smile on his face indicated that he hadn’t expected this much from him. “Why what, kid?”

                “Just WHY! Why was I born? Why was anyone born? Why was the world destined to become one big disappointment after another? Why were the gods just as disappointing? Why did the One God let the pantheons do whatever the hell they wanted while the world turned to crap? Why did it still turn into crap after they disappeared and He showed himself? WHY IS ANYTHING ANYTHING?”

Thoki’s face had been paper white with cold, and was now the color of raw beef as he vented his frustration, asking everything that his mind had been torturing him with. Sweat poured down his back as he ranted, and his face stung as the string of blasphemies against all things unearthly spewed forth like angry hornets. Prometheus felt the venom in those words, the despair, the anger as Thoki let the black rotten pit inside him speak.

                “Why was man made, why was heaven made? Why is everything mixed up? You know, don’t you? You were there when man was made!”

                “Yes and no. I was not in the Garden of Eden, Thoki.  I made man out of river mud. Also, if you recall Coyote made them from mud, or Quetzalcoatl made them from corn, or Odin from two trees. Others share that claim as well—Raven and Brahma and Atum—the list goes on! ”

                “Well yeah…” said Thoki but he could only trail off, uncertainly.

                “And then that’s just the creation of man. If you want the creation of the world, that goes back before my time…”

                “But then… you don’t know about Isfat? When the Chaos was made into Order?”

                “Well, some say it was made when God made the Heavens and Earth, or when Pangu separated the world egg, or when Ymir the giant and Adumla the cow were born from the poison and ice of Nifleheim, or when Erebus and Nix gave birth to Gaea, or when the waters of Nun—“

                “Enough! Enough! I get it! So which is the real creation story?”

                Prometheus gave him a pompous stare, tossing his golden hair over his shoulder in mild disdain.

                “Don’t you know anything, boy? They’re ALL real.”

                Thoki scowled at being called ‘boy’ like he was back in his father’s house. The anger made the answer all the harder to bear, although he’d already guessed the answer.

                “You couldn’t find the source of the true creation because there is no true creation story.”

                Thoki hadn’t thought of this and the idea hit him hard enough to make him sit down hard on the polished rock. “They were all lies?”

                “I didn’t say they were lies, I just said they weren’t true. They’re all a kind of half-truth that goes deeper than mere facts. That makes them real. The kind of solid myth that deep-down you believe. Have you never wondered why all creation stories start out the same? They all start with void. Then the heaven and earth are separated, and then the sun and moon. Always the same. Every history has a great flood. Every History explains the fall of man from grace. Every story explains how fire was stolen or granted from the divine. The same symbols always occur as well: a great tree, serpents, eagles, death, life…”

                “It’s all just nuance,” said Thoki bitterly. “It’s just racial memory of how man rose from slobbering ape to slobbering human. The gods were made by man to explain why water is wet, why fire is hot and why bad things happen to stupid people.”

                “For a god you have very little insight into the divine world, Thoki,” said Prometheus gently. “And there’s one more thing that every mythology has,”

                “The crap is that?”

                “Heroes. Heroes have endured throughout time, within and without pantheons. You don’t have to believe in gods to believe in Heroes. And that makes them just as real and powerful as the old gods.”

                “Phhff!” Thoki made a disgusted face. “It’s all crap. If there’s no true place of the creation, than there’s no true location of Isfat… which means I’ve been wasting my time since I began climbing up that tree from Nifleheim 1000 years ago.” The despair shook him and he held his head in his hands.

                Prometheus sighed.  It made a hot gust of air that fanned Thoki’s face and made water drip down his forehead. It quickly froze again into tiny icicles.

                “Thoki you’re denser than I gave you credit for. Don’t you understand that if there’s no right location of the creation, that there’s no wrong place? Everything is connected.”

                Thoki rose from his seated crouch, looking around him. His eyes fell on the Eagle… then on Prometheus’ chains. He began to pace frantically on the rock face as the wind buffeted his hood around. He no longer felt the cold as he marched in ragged elipses, muttering to himself.

                “Chained to the rock… chained to the rock… there’s a connection there….eagle…” Thoki’s head whipped around towards the eagle. The bird jumped a little and ruffled its wings, startled by the man’s intense stare.

“Eagle,” muttered Thoki. “Eagle at the top of the tree… snake at the bottom…chained to the rock with the snake…snake …snake… snake from the tree tempts Eve…trees…trees. It all comes back to it.”

“Thoki?” asked Eris, looking worried.

                “I know  it! I know where the garden of Eden is! I can’t find Eden or your muddy riverbank, or the waters of Nun or any of that, because it’s not part of my world, but now I know it’s all the same thing! The tree of knowledge in the garden of Eden is the very same tree that Odin hung himself from to gain wisdom!”

“Now you know where you have to look,” said Prometheus with a nod.

 Thoki jumped up and clapped his hand. “Because it’s right where I started from!”

“That’s right,” said Prometheus, a strange smile on his sunburnt lips.

                “EAGLE!” shouted Thoki spinning to face the massive bird again.

                The Eagle flinched. He had just been spreading his wings, and had hoped to take off before Thoki had remembered him.

                “Yes?” asked the raptor timidly. “I suppose you want me to lead you back to Yggdrassil?”

                “It would save us some time, thanks,” said Thoki with a wry smile.

                The eagle sighed and began preening his primary feathers. “Oh fine.”

                “Lor?” called Thoki.  Lor’s head poked out immediately.

                “Are we going home?” he asked brightly.

                “Oh, you bet,” said Thoki. “And this time, I got you a ride.”

                The Eagle looked up suddenly at the frost Giant and they exchanged beady-eyed stares.

                “Oh fuck,” spat the Eagle.

               

Part 21: Snakes and Staffs

Thoki cursed and threw the King James Bible against the wall where it dented the plaster and slithered to the floor like a brained bird. He’d read it from Genesis to Revelations; he’d also read the Koran and the Torah, and even the Morman book of Moses, but he was no closer to finding what he was looking for.

“I’ll never find it!” he moaned banging his head on the table in despair.

There was a nicker from Slepnir’s direction and Thoki looked at his brother. Slepnir was looking haggard these days from lack of sleep and his current diet of decaying plywood and the living room sofa. Thoki reached out a hand and pet Slepnir’s velvety nose. The horse seemed to calm a little and his ears relaxed for the first time in ages.

                “Your brother’s a clueless moron, you know that,” said Thoki.

                Slepnir’s gave a non-committal toss of his head as if to say, “Yes you are, but there’s no point in getting depressed.”

                Thoki gave a hopeless hollow laugh and glanced at Lor sleeping peacefully on the sofa. He’d been lying there for six days now and while his wounds seemed to have cleared up, the giant was listless and pale. He’d wake up for a few hours, eat and then go to sleep again. It was beginning to worry Thoki, and he was powerless to do anything. Lor was far too big to move, even with Slepnir’s help. Lor had expended the last of his energy just getting here. Now in this fetid, vermin-infested, poisonous apartment, he was slowly losing whatever battle raged inside his massive body.

                Thoki sighed and got to his feet. After trying to rouse Lor from his sleep with little success, he began to fall back into his recent habit of pacing. He prowled through the living room, kicking up dust and insects from the rotting carpet. Slepnir watched him with the mild interest of someone whose only source of entertainment had been counting his legs.  

                “What am I doing?” Thoki muttered. “I’m busy trying to find some stupid place that might not even be on Earth and it doesn’t matter because if I could even figure out where the hell it is I can’t go because my giant can’t move.”

                “Well that does put you in an awkward position, doesn’t it?” said the familiar drawl of a continental gentleman.

                “Hello, Hermes,” said Thoki without even looking around.

                “I’ve brought a friend today,” said Hermes.

                With a heavy sigh, and a depressed acceptance of the death that was to come Thoki looked up.

                Hermes was grinning wickedly. He didn’t have the battle scars on him from his last encounter with Thoki. The last time Thoki had seen him, he was sporting broken ribs, a hurt leg and a crushed nose. Now he looked as fit and dapper as ever in his designer jeans, silk blouse and navy military jacket. Next to him was another olive-skinned aquiline-nosed god. Thoki gazed into a handsome face that was gorgeous almost to the point of freakishness. His full lips, golden eyes, curly blond hair, strong chin— they seemed to be cartoonish on a real face. Thoki felt a hot flush rise to his face which made him furious. He knew exactly who he was looking at. The staff in the god’s hand, a golden scepter with a snake wrapped around it explained everything, including Hermes’s miraculous recovery.

                “Apollo, I presume.”

                “Yes,” said the god in a deep soap-opera voice.

                Good grief; he sounds like an old Superman cartoon, thought Thoki with a frown.

                “To what do I owe this pleasure… and with such an item as that?” Thoki asked, eyeing the staff hungrily.

                “You know what this is?” asked Hermes lightly, his smile widening.

                Thoki nodded. It was the magical Rod of Asclepius—once belonging to Apollo’s son Asclepius, the world’s greatest doctor. It was said to cure all wounds, and in Asclepius’s hands it could bring the dead to life. For that hubris Apollo’s son was sentenced to death by Zeus himself.

                “And you know what it’s capable of?” asked Hermes.

                Again Thoki nodded and his eyes swiveled to look at Lor again. “What do you want?” he asked, his throat suddenly dry.

                “We couldn’t help but notice that your hairy friend over there isn’t doing so well,” said Hermes.

                “He’s just a bit under the weather,” said Thoki beginning to sweat, he had an inkling of what was coming next.

                “Don’t bother lying to me. Apollo is a God of medicine himself, aren’t you brother?”

                Apollo nodded his golden head but said nothing.

                “He’s dying, Thoki,” said Hermes simply.

                Thoki nodded dumbly as he fought the bile in his throat and tried to stay upright.

                “So now he’s out of the way, you can win?” gasped Thoki. “Lor’s down for the count so you come here with your big brother and his magic stick to even the odds.”

                Hermes blinked before regarding Thoki in disappointed bemusement.

                “Are you being deliberately obtuse or are you really just thick?”

                “If I say it’s the latter will you promise not to break my nose again?” moaned Thoki. “Seriously. Why are you here? I guess if you were going to kick my ass you’d have done it by now, but… you know… the trickster tendency to go off on ADD tangents is hard to override.”

                “Fair enough,” said Hermes. “Yes, I fully intend to get my revenge on you… but I’ve been instructed to do otherwise… for the moment…by my associates.  I’m here to offer you a bargain.”

Slepnir’s ears cocked upwards and he raised his head to look at the three of them.

“Go on,” said Thoki. He was nervous. Hermes was the god of diplomats and compromise as well. The bastard could turn on the charm if he had to, and also knew when to press his advantage.

“Apollo here will heal your giant if you swear a solemn oath not to seek Isfat.”

“And if I don’t?” asked Thoki, a cold sweat attacking his neck and the backs of his knees.

“Then your Jotun friend dies… and you’ll be much easier to pick off by yourself,” said Hermes calmly. He fingered his own staff, the caduceus, the double-snake staff of negotiation.

Thoki looked back at his friend. Lor hadn’t stirred through the entire exchange; his shallow breathing and pasty face told Thoki that Hermes spoke the truth.

It’s over, he told himself. There’s nothing left.

The realization came as somewhat of a relief after all this internal conflict. He would never find Isfat now, but now he had other things in front of him. He might even get to get a real life after this. Maybe this promise would silence all those delusions of grandeur and malcontent that screamed at him in the night. He could just be Thoki Lokison, a boring uninteresting short man who dreamed of nothing more ambitious than pancakes with bacon.

“Alright,” he said quietly nodding.

Apollo began his manly stride towards the sofa where Lor lay when Thoki shouted out to him.

“On one condition!” he shouted.

“I make the conditions, brat,” sniffed Hermes.

“It’s just a little thing,” he said.

“This means you don’t try to snuff me out later, got it?”

Hermes tried to look bored, but Thoki saw a flicker of relief behind his olive face. With Lor back in the pink Hermes didn’t relish getting his ass handed to him again by the behemoth.

“It’s a deal. Shake on it,” he added in a low stern voice.

Thoki took a deep gulp of breath and walked towards the outstretched hand smelling of cologne and espresso.

Ep: 11 Road Trip

Recap: Thoki has tricked his half-brother Jormungandr into downing a drinking gin until he passed out. Thoki wants Jormungandr to give him an Lor passage to Egypt to look for the "City of the Sun": supposedly the location of ISFAT, the course of all chaos. Thoki intends to use this chaos to rule the world. Lor intends to find out whether "The Swedish Chef" is real.

“Head more to the south, you’re veering too far east,” said Thoki.

“Freaking hate you, wiener,” grumbled Jormungandr.  

Thoki and Lor were seated along a long coil of Jormungandr’s snake form, just behind the head. Jorm was swimming in geriatric undulations and groaning every few yards. His serpent head, fearsome beyond all human imagining, had lost some of its hellfire. Dark circles surrounded the yellow eyes (which were now bloodshot and rather glassy) and his deadly breath, said to poison all who smelled it was even fouler than usual. Jormungandr was currently suffering from a Devine headache, of the sort that was usually caused by a cranial goddess crafting armor. The larger part of a bottle of Tanqueray and a thrashing about the head were to thank for that and Jorm had awoken from his gin-induced slumber to find himself captive in bonds made of heaviest-grade tow-cable.

That was when Thoki insisted that they be given transport to Alexandria… or else.

“I’d be tempted to drown you like a navy SEAL, you little bastard, if I wasn’t afraid of my head coming off,” Jormungandr mumbled through his metal bridle.

“Sorry I had to tie you up,” said Lor amiably.

“Nah, you’re alright, Lor. We should hang out sometime. In fact, we could hang out now, if you help me get rid of my stupid half-brother. Deal?” said the Serpent.

Lor debated this for a moment. “Could we come back for Thoki later?” asked Lor.

“Sure!” chuckled Jorm (and then winced through his hangover). “He might even still be alive if he’s a good swimmer.”

“No. I think we have some things to do first, Thoki and me.” Lor shook his head, which made Thoki sigh in relief. “Maybe afterwards.”

There was a pause before the World Serpent grasped at the last straw of hope. “Sure. If you guys can make it so that Fenrir doesn’t kill me, drinks are on me.”

“Don’t worry, Jorm,” said Thoki lightly. “I’ll tell Fenrir you were coerced.”

Jorm rolled his jaundiced eyes. “He’ll never believe me — I mean NEVER, EVER in a million years believe that you beat me up.”

“Thanks,” sniffed Thoki. “So what did Fenrir mean, the city of the sun?”

Jorm was carefully quiet and Thoki realized he was on his own this time.  “City of the Sun… The Egyptian God of the sun was Ra, right?” Thoki was being rhetorical, but to his surprise, Lor spoke up.

“Well there was Atum, Atum-Ra, Aten-Ra, Horus, The Mnevis Bull, and Khepri the dung beetle… to name a few,” said the Jotun

For a while there was no sound save the lapping of waves against the huge scaly flanks and Jormungandr’s mouth breathing through his bridle.

“Alrighty,” said Thoki eventually. “So we have a lot of options. Any one of the cities of Ancient Egypt dedicated to those guys could be our target.”

“Oh, simple as that then,” said Lor nodding.

“No, it’s not simple,” said Thoki in mounting frustration. “We’re talking several thousand years of clashing pantheons changing and growing overtime, each dynasty issuing its own rules and names. God knows what those cities are called now that the old gods are crushed under this new Mohammedan- religion-thing.”

“’S’not new. The Islamic faith was developed almost fourteen-hundred years ago, ass,” muttered Jorm through the thick cables.

“That’s new to me,” said Thoki with a shrug.

“So, city of Ra… city of Aten-Ra. Maybe even Akenatum… crap. I don’t know any cities like that. I always assumed it would be at one of the big places… like Memphis, or Luxor or Cairo,” said Thoki. He kneeded his forehead with his fist in frustration as he stared at the black, churning water. The wind was picking up, and Thoki put up his sweatshirt hood and shivered. “Jorm, do you know any Egyptian city that would have been the city of the sun?”

Jorm laughed so hard he nearly choked on the cables binding him. “I got no idea, pipsqueak. I’m a giant snake as long as the Australian coastline. I don’t really sit around all day studying Greek History.”

“What DO you do all day?” asked Thoki in annoyance.

“Watch TV. I got Netflix live-streaming on my PS3 and I have most of the cable channels. I also play Frontierville a lot. Are you on Facebook, Lor? I need some more gas lamps to build my Ponderosa Lodge.”

Lor shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t understand the Internet. I go “on the line” and it says I have mail, but when I check our P.O. box at the post office it’s always empty.”

“Nah, nah, dude! You’re supposed to click on the little picture of a letter,” said Jormungandr.

“I did that once, but all I got were some pictures… very confusing pictures,” said Lor with a dazed look.

“Really,” said Jorm in the voice of one hoping for elaboration. Lor wasn’t forthcoming, however.

“I don’t’ know… it’s all Greek to me,” sighed Lor.

“Greek,” said Thoki sitting up suddenly. “Just a moment ago, Jorm. You said you didn’t sit around watching Greek history, when I was clearly talking about Egypt!”

“Um… No I didn’t?” said Jormungandr without much hope.

“You totally did! You know where we’re supposed to be going, don’t you!”

“Um… Uh…. No I don’t?” moaned Jorm. If snakes could sweat, Jormungandr would have looked like “sketchy witness number two” from an episode of Law and Order.

“Egypt was taken over by Alexander the Great starting the Ptolemic Empire! It makes sense! So… Greek god of the sun… Apollo… no. ‘Apollopolis’ just sounds too dumb for me to forget it… no…”

“Helios?” suggested Lor.

Thoki snapped his fingers. “Heliopolis.”

“Oh, God, I’m dead,” moaned Jormungandr. His body began to tremble and his scales seemed duller and colder.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” demanded Thoki.

“I can’t tell you,” said Jorm.

“AREN’T I?” insisted Thoki.

Jormungandr gave a sad little nod.

“Yes!” said Thoki, giving his brother’s bridle a vindictive little jerk. “Who’s the wiener now, ‘foot-long’?”  

The serpent said nothing, but his lethargic pace slowed to nearly glacial speed as he edged closer to certain peril.

4. "DA-DUN"

First published, August 19, 2010


“Thoki?”
“What.”
“I think I see it again.”
“Oh, crap, you’re right. Paddle faster!”

Thoki and Lor were on the western side the Atlantic Ocean heading roughly east towards the Mediterranean. Standard forms of travel had been out of the question. Between the two of them, they had managed to save up only $128.34 from various odd jobs and petty thievery. That wasn’t enough to get a plane ticket for Thoki, let alone Lor who would have needed to purchase an extra seat to accommodate his backside. Plus he would have had to hunch the entire way to keep from banging his head on the overhead compartment. 

Thus stymied, they had tried to stow-away aboard a cruise ship. This plan had worked for all of twenty minutes. Thoki was still nursing some bruises from when they were arrested and put ashore in Florida. Stupid Disney. Down to their last Benjamin, Thoki attempted to be resourceful. He waltzed into a beach-shop and began to purchase/shoplift supplies. 

Now he was 40 miles out to sea, with his cohort, in a crude raft made of inflatable alligator pool-toys held together with duct tape. Three inflatable beer-coolers swam beneath them, acting as ballast. They were filled with containers of Ensure, Red Bull and Dasani, which were their only concessions to hydration and nutrition. The Red Bull was for Lor, who was currently acting as the outboard motor. He was wearing a large innertube around his waist, and orange water-wings, as his massive legs thrashed the water, keeping up the steady “kick, kick, kick,” they’d been doing all morning. Lor never got tired, he didn’t have enough imagination to get tired. 

Right now, however, he was kicking more frantically as Thoki called out to him.
“Starboard, kick starboard!”
“Is that left or right?” asked Lor.
“It’s that way,” said Thoki, pointing.
“So left?”
“No, that’s… wait. Does it matter which way I’m facing?”
“I think it depends on which way the boat is facing,” said Lor in one of his rare moments of lucidity.
“Oh… so port, then?”
“No thanks, I don’t drink.”
“Too late! Here it comes again!” cried Thoki in a panicked voice. He pulled on the tether holding Lor to the craft, and tried to pull him aboard. After a few close calls and near-capsizes, the giant managed to clamber onto the squeaking wet alligator toys.


The two stared in growing anxiety, huddled beneath a pile of stolen beach towels, as a large dark shape came closer to the boat.
“It might just be a whale,” said Thoki in a whisper.
DA-DUN.
“Or not,” he added mournfully.
DA-DUN.
“I’m scared,” said Lor quietly.
DA-DUN-DUN.
“Just don’t make any sudden moves,” said Thoki. “Keep quiet and don’t touch the water.”
"Okie-dokie, Thoki."
DA-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN
“It’s getting closer,” whimpered the giant, trying pathetically to make himself smaller.
BADDA-BUNNNNNNNNNNN (DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN)
The water began to boil and churn as the dark shape got closer and closer. Thoki and Lor, held each other tightly as scales and fins began to flash beneath the surface.
BADA-BUN! BADA-BUN!
The ocean rose suddenly in a column of green water that erupted from the waves. A terrifying creature rose sixty feet in the air and came down again in a horrible splash. It was a sea serpent that seemed too big to be possible. The undulating coils were larger and longer than a freight train as jaws, the size of a drawbridge, snapped at them. 

“BADA-BUN!” sang the snake-head joyfully. Its breath tore at the two sailors, smelling of death and chocolate milk. In confirmation, a few empty Ensure cans floated to the surface.

“JORM! KNOCK IT OFF!” screamed Thoki.
“Aw, don’t have a hissy-fit, wiener. I was just funnin’ yah,” said Jormungandr, the world serpent. 
“And stop eating our food supply!” Thoki snapped again at his half-brother.

Jormungandr was in his traditionally ‘mythic’ form this time, that of a gigantic cretaceous clidastes. He didn’t exactly run the length of the world–the Ancient Norsemen did like to exaggerate– but he could circle around Australia at least. The giant sea-serpent was supposedly so hideous that no mortal could look on it without going insane, but Thoki was used to it by now and tried to stare down the mad rolling yellow eyes. 

“And do you have to sing the theme to ‘Jaws’ every time? It’s getting old.”
“I could sing the theme to the Poseidon Adventure. There’s got to be a morning afterrrr, If we can hold on through the niiiiiiiii–!”
“NO SINGING!” 
“Aw, you got such a stick up your ass.”
“Can you sing something from an ocean-themed movie where nobody dies?”
“Alright. Have it your way,” said Jormungand with a poisonous grin. “Under da Seeea! Under da Seeeaaa!...”
“Is he going to do this all the way to Egypt?” asked Lor meekly.
“Or until he gets bored and tries to eat us,” said Thoki.
“I prefer the singing.”
“Me too, actually– he’s not that bad.”
“Up on de shore, dey work all day…” sang the serpent.
“This is going to be a long freaking trip though,” sighed Thoki.
“Who wants to hear me sing the theme to Spongebob?” cried Jorm turning happily in spirals.
“Ooh! Ooh! Me!" said Lor, raising his hand.
"I can't heeeere yooou!"
"Aye-aye, Captain!"

“Drama queen,” Thoki muttered.

3. Land of the Vikings

First Published August 5, 2010
“Say it!” said Fenrir.
“NO!” cried nine-year-old Thoki.
“Say it, or I’ll drop you!”
“Alright! I’m a weenie!”
“What kind of weenie?” said Jormungandr in Thoki’s ear.
“I’m a sissy weenie who plays with dolls!” cried Thoki, tears streaming down his face.
“And you eat your own boogers! Say that!” added Fenrir
“I don’t––“
“Say it, or Earth gets a new hole to Niflheim!” snapped Jormungandr.
“AND I EAT MY OWN BOOGERS––LET ME DOWN!!” 
“Nah, changed my mind,” said Fenrir.
“BUT YOU PROM––AHHHH!”

Thoki awoke in a cold sweat. He hated those dreams about his childhood. In them were the memories of countless wedgies, swirlies and pink-bellies doled out by his two half-brothers. This time, Thoki remembered when Fenrir had dangled him (by his underpants) over the Bifrost Bridge. Thoki had seen Earth with crystal clarity sparkling thousands of miles below. And while Earth hadn’t gained a new crater, it did receive a brief shower of slightly warm rain. 

It took Thoki a few minutes to convince himself he was no longer nine years old, then he picked himself off the ground and brushed the pine needles from his arm. They’d been camping in the forest for the last few weeks. He got up, stretched, and poked his traveling buddy, Lor, with a pointed stick. 

“Hey. Wake up.”
Lor blinked and sat up at his usual glacial speed. “Time to make the donuts?” he mumbled, still half asleep.
“I wish,” sighed Thoki. They’d been eating suspicious plants for nineteen days now. “Any clue where we are now? What’s the name of this Fjord?” said Thoki, pointing to the water lapping at the shore.
“It’s not a Fjord. It’s a lake.”
“It’s a big wet thing! Same difference!” snapped Thoki.
“Well technically, a Fjord is a long, narrow arm of the sea bordered by steep cliffs usually formed by glacial erosion; while a lake is a body of fresh or salt water of considerable size, surrounded by land.”

Thoki just stared. Usually he would have argued with Lor, but when it came to “jography” he didn’t question Lor. The wooly-headed giant had trouble reading most 3-letter words, but when it came to reading maps, the behemoth had a talent bordering on the supernatural. Lor being clever unsettled Thoki. It was as if a sheep had suddenly donned a tie and begun offering financial advice.

“This is Lake Superior,” yawned Lor.
“Does that mean we’re in Minnesota?” cried Thoki in excitement.
“Yes. We crossed over from Wisconsin last night. I think we’re near Duluth.”
“HOT DOG!” Thoki’s petite figure broke into an impromptu jig. He stopped as the butterflies rose up in his throat. “Well, I suppose I better call him,” he said with less excitement.
“What can I do?” asked Lor amiably.
Thoki sighed. “I dunno. Go play.”
“Kay,” said Lor, back to his monosyllabic self. He lumbered over to a cluster of cattails.
“Alright… here we go,” said Thoki, psyching himself up. 

He pulled a reel of cofilament, thermal-fused fishing line from his pocket. Only one guy in the world had been stupid enough to fish for Jormungandr, and he’d used an Ox-head for bait. Thoki, who knew his half-brother a bit better than mighty Thor, wrapped the sturdy fishing line around a six-pack of Miller Lite. Using a log as a float, he cast it onto the lake’s surface. Hel said he’d need to fish for Jormungand, “At the great fjord near the home of the Vikings.” Thoki deduced that the only place left on Earth with Vikings, was Minnesota.

Two hours ticked past with no change. Thoki was now nursing a sunburn on his neck and he looked longingly at the chilled beer floating on the lake’s surface. 
“Lor? How you doin’ there buddy?” asked Thoki. Lor was being very quiet, usually a sign that he was doing something Thoki wouldn’t like. That or he was confused by life again.
“Fine.”
“Whatcha doin?”
“We were planting seeds in the ground so they could grow into ducks.”
“What kind of seeds?” asked Thoki, glad Lor was being stupid again.
“Duckweed seeds.” 
“Makes sense… Wait. We?” asked Thoki, looking at his partner for the first time.
“Me and Mr. Onion.”
“Mister…Onion…” said Thoki slowly, craning his neck to see what was in Lor’s hands. It was a rock. Thoki shrugged. “Alright. Have fun, you two.” 
“Kay.” 

Thoki turned his head, to watch his bobber and screamed. A large, muscular chest was blocking his view. It was clothed in a black T-shirt sporting the legend, “Han Shot First.” Thoki tried to back up and lost his footing. Sitting on the ground, hard, he stared up into the face of Jormungandr, who was busy downing the contents of one of the beer-cans. He belched politely and threw it over his shoulder.

“Hey, wiener,” said Thoki's brother. He was in a human form, but there was a definite serpent quality to him from the blue-veined skin, to his hair the color of parsley. His eyes were the greatest giveaway–yellow, with slit pupils, and a transparent ocular cap which twitched as he regarded his younger brother and opened another can.

“Miller Lite? You gotta be kiddin,” he said with disgust.
“It’s all I could afford,” said Thoki. He’d spent his last tenner on it too.
“How touching. What do you want?” 
“You wrap around the world right? You see everything.”
“Everything connected to water, but I concede your point. Continue.”
“I’m looking for something. Something I’ve only read in passing, but I need more information.”
“Jeezus, try the internet, dumbass. Do I look like Wikipedia?” said Jormungandr turning towards the water. 
“Wait!! Jorm! Do you know anything about a source of ultimate chaos?” cried Thoki frantically.

The snake-man paused. His diamond-shaped face looked at Thoki again. There was a strange smile playing on his thin lips.
“Now why would you want to know about that?” he asked.
“Tell me,” said Thoki, drawing himself up.
The ocular cap flicked up again. “Egypt. It’s in Egypt.”
“Egypt! But how––?“
“Not my problem. Ask when you get there. But it’s in Egypt. Later, runt.”
And Jormungandr sank into Lake Superior without so much as a ripple.