At first, he did not dream. There was just the comforting darkness. And then he saw a fire burning in the darkness and he walked toward it.
“You did well,” whispered the buffalo man without moving his lips.
“I don’t know what I did,” said Shadow.
“You made peace,” said the buffalo man. “You took our words and made them your own. They never understood that they were here-and the people who worshiped them were here-because it suits us that they are here. But we can change our minds. And perhaps we will.”
“Are you a god?” asked Shadow.
The buffalo-headed man shook his head. Shadow thought, for a moment, that the creature was amused. “I am the land,” he said.
And if there was more to that dream then Shadow did not remember it.
That’s all, folks. The trip is done, and so I guess the blog is over too. If you feel so inclined, you can start over with this: http://abadlandforgods.tumblr.com/post/4582716461/by-grand-central-station-i-sat-down-and-wept
Until next time.
Thanks
This trip (and by extension this tumblr) would have been impossible without the love/support/generosity of the following people:
My parents
Peach Tao
George Chapella
James Lee and all his friends
Laura Polent
Oliver Pineda
Chris Goggins
Clair Carson
Meredith Renfroe
Joey Crane and Brendan Connolly
Jessica Lawshe
Sarah Marie and Hannah King
Daniel Balough and his friends
Victoria Hendeburg
Daniella ‘fearless leader’ Albert, Stefan Hefele, Hanna Choi, Florian Hofmann, Jay Hall, Bart De Maeyer and Sheralle Toomey
Brooke Linne Bates of USA Hostel San Francisco
Michael and Anthony, our spontaneous tour guides
Christa Chan and Brandon Triglia (and their weiner-dog, Destroyer)
Olivia Bronson, Orion Bukantis and their housemates
Dennis and Joelle: our rescuers, and two of the nicest people you’ll meet.
The Boy, for being there, unexpectedly.
You, for reading.
And finally, special thanks to Joanna Marracelli and Johanna Petrycki, for good times, good beer, good food and good advice.
Dear friends
You are angels and drunks
You are magi
Old friends
You stuck a pin in a map I was in
And this is a note for a road sign
Cuttin’ the breeze in this tennesee sundown
Came the sounds of the voices I know
I’ve been pondering trees
On the steeliest comedown
And now in a moment I’m home
I’ve got bluster enough
For the sails of a clipper
And the truth never frays a good yarn
But it struck me to say, while so far away
You are with me today
You are here are in my head, in my heart
Dear friends
You are angels and drunks
You are magi
Old friends
You stuck a pin in a map I was in
And you are the stars I navigate home by
“This is a bad land for gods,” said Shadow. As an opening statement it wasn’t Friends, Romans, countrymen, but it would do. “You’ve probably all learned that. The old gods are ignored. The new gods are as quickly taken up as they are abandoned, cast aside for the next big thing. Either you’ve been forgotten, or you’re scared you’re going to be rendered obsolete, or maybe you’re just getting tired of existing on the whim of people.”
Shadow shook his head. “You know,” he said, “I think I would rather be a man than a god. We don’t need anyone to believe in us. We just keep going anyhow. It’s what we do.”
Chapter 10: Fly Right Back
Montana was flooded. Really flooded. So Amtrak was a no-go and our passes suddenly useless as anything other than mementos. We decided to fly directly to Boston: no struggling through the midwest, no 48 hour train rides, no thousand-mile stretches of prairie. I couldn’t decide if I was upset or not.
No… words. Should have… sent a poet.
I have definitely seen these Daisy-Daisies in my dreams.
I’ve seen some pretty big flags on this trip. This, I think, is the biggest one.
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