Midnight between Morning

What I have to say summing up the last 9 days is this – “big things have small beginnings”. It all started with a little black book I found in an unlikely place in an unremarkable part of town. I was drawn to the surprise color from the flash of green ribbon holding its possibilities together. The worn cover was black, and I liked the weight of it in my hand. On the first page written in precise cursive was one sentence - I travel gates thru midnight between morning.

It was that evening that I learned naming a gray Aussie puppy with a blue eye Odin was an invitation for the actual Norse god himself to take up residence. I had found his book. He had misplaced it years ago and was now reminded of another object he would like to have once again. I asked him why it took him this long to say anything? His response was that he was comfortable. “What about Tuco?” I asked. His full brother from two previous litters. “Tuco’s devotion to you is what skald’s sing of to be remembered for their prose. Mephistopheles himself would tip his hat and let you pass with him by your side. I like our chances to get back something I once stole.” He mused out loud.

After 3 nights we arrived at a neon oasis knows as Las Vegas. A curious mix of desert dust, mountain air and the smell of lost strategies based on hopes. We had been joined by a raven named Muninn shortly after starting out cross country. For navigation I worked with him to piece together the memories he provided using a compass and guidance from Polaris.

I tried not to think too hard about the bag I found with an unexpected 20,000 in cash in the trunk of my car making our way west. After initial shock wore off and paranoia settled in I asked Odin if he knew anything about it. His response was a yawn and sudden interest to groom a spot on his back. Best to leave a god to his secrets I supposed- especially this one. I setup camp. Odin and Tuco investigated the area and eventually joined me. I was relieved to breath fresh air that evening and be on our way again after a big pancake breakfast. A kind waitress packed the order to go and I shared my spoils. A full stomach helped calm my nerves.

My recollections from we finally arrived to retrieve Odin’s item are organized by a View- Master embedded in my brain. Click. The creature’s amusement at Odin’s canine form. Click. Its fury at being disturbed. Click. The smell of malice. Click. Tuco’s courage. Click. The weight of the prize in my pocket. Click. The dull pain of two broken fingers. Click. Tuco resting his head on my shoulder. Click. Running holding him close as the moon’s kindness lighted our way to safety. Click. Click. Click.

I sit now by a fire somewhere outside anywhere. The little black book’s pages now tell the tale of our travels. An object larger than a marble smaller than an orb is tucked in a sock for safekeeping in my backpack. Muninn is balancing on my knee looking over my work. I smile at his curiosity. I finish drawing a snake in a circle swallowing its own tail at the bottom of a tree. I practice tasting words like ashes, warmth, and seeds out loud as I write my thoughts down. A long jet feather is placed on the page. He watches me close the book complete with his contribution and flies to a perch for the night satisfied. I lean back and see Odin resting his head on outstretched legs. Tuco is curled up by my feet taking the night’s first watch. Eyes heavy with sleep I open the gate to midnight as they close.