Onedescribesatalebestbytellingthetale.Yousee?Thewayonedescribesastory,tooneselfortotheworld,isbytellingthestory.Itisabalancingactanditisadream.Themoreaccuratethemap,themoreitresemblestheterritory.Themostaccuratemappossiblewouldbetheterritory,andthuswouldbeperfectlyaccurateandperfectlyuseless.Thetaleisthemapwhichistheterritory.Youmustrememberthis.

           —FROMTHENOTEBOOKSOFMR.IBIS

           ThetwoofthemweredrivingtheVWbusdowntoFloridaonI-75.They’dbeendrivingsincedawn,orrather,Shadowhaddriven,andMr.Nancyhadsatupfrontinthepassengerseatand,fromtimetotime,andwithapainedexpressiononhisface,offeredtodrive.Shadowalwayssaidno.

           "Areyouhappy?"askedMr.Nancy,suddenly.HehadbeenstaringatShadowforseveralhours.WheneverShadowglancedovertohisright,Mr.Nancywaslookingathimwithhisearth-browneyes.

           "Notreally,"saidShadow."ButI’mnotdeadyet."

           "Huh?"

           "Callnomanhappyuntilheisdead.Herodotus."

           Mr.Nancyraisedawhiteeyebrow,andhesaid,"I’mnotdeadyet,and,mostlybecauseI’mnotdeadyet,I’mhappyasaclamboy."

           "TheHerodotusthing.Itdoesn’tmeanthatthedeadarehappy,"saidShadow."Itmeansthatyoucan’tjudgetheshapeofsomeone’slifeuntilit’soveranddone.