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Truce sat in the back of the hall enjoying a lecture by his most favorite professor, Randall J. Raccoon. This portly raccoon could explain literary plots and metaphors with such gusto, the original authors may prefer his telling. Such a notion was not farfetched as the course's required reading came from the trashy romance section at the local grocery store. The class was "Swimwear in contemporary literature." Plainly, many of the works discussed were awful but inspired speculation about the authors themselves.

"And that scholars, is why Everryn Jane wore the leopard print bikini bottom to the skeezy roller rink." The raccoon took a triumphant sip from his coffee thermos as awake students in the hall applauded. And per usual, his lecture concluded exactly before the bell rang signaling the end of the afternoon.

Among the exuberant clappers, Truce the blue and white furred wolf contributed to the cheering crowd. Others were only suddenly awakened by the shrill ringing of the bell. Truce waited as an exodus of furry and scaled college students plodded from the room. The wolf grabbed his raggedy backpack and walked up to the podium. The raccoon professor was shuffling his lsst notes into a briefcase.

"Another outstanding lecture! How do you do it?" Truce praised.

"You can't easily see the poetic beauty of a third rate, bargain-bin, trashy check-out stand novel?"

"No I really can't. And that's why it's amazing!" Beamed the wolf.

"Fair enough. How's that thesis of yours?" The raccoon snapped the clasps of his briefcase before handing it to the wolf. It was heavy. The raccoon and the wolf exited the lecture hall together.

"Been hanging out at the library a lot." The wolf said running the fur on the back of his neck with his free non-aching hand. "I'm still looking for a project that uses acupressure with the traditional stuff we were taught."

"Well if you hadn't stumbled upon any good leads, might I offer you an old text that has been in my collection for a number of years?"

Truce found himself resisting an urge to hug and squeeze the fat raccoon. He looked so squeezable right now in his fedora, bowtie, and sport coat.

"I could definitely use some inspiration. Or I'm just going to pick some run of the mill physical therapy topic." Sheepishly replied Truce.

"Well, the book I am thinking of will be more than adequate. The only problem is that it has been in my attic since having moved 8 years ago. It may take a while for me to find it for you."

"What's it about?"

"Let me tell you a bit about the history of this book as I know it. I acquired it in San Francisco from an old Oriental Dragon I met in a hotel about... oh... 20 years ago. We chewed the fat while relaxing in that quaint hotel lobby one evening and got to talking about how old we were feeling. At the time, I was in my mid 30s, didn't have too much to complain of, save for a bad back. The dragon was probably a little more creaky as I could only guess that he might be centuries old."

That's really neat. He's like a dinosaur but like a fantasy dinosaur."

Dr. Raccoon patted Truce on the head and continued. "He told me about how he kept his joints loose through both meditation and something that sounds like your acupressure. I was feeling achy at the time and he poked at my back with his finger pads and claws and my back felt great."

"Wow. Was what he doing something magical or was it something that could be learned by say, someone like me?"

"I thought it might have been magic too at the time. But the dragon scoffed at the notion. Imagine that, a dragon that scoffs at magic. Apparently, he was an old scholar and writer and he had written a book on his techniques and theories, all of which were grounded in concrete physiology. He showed it to me and it was in Chinese characters. We continued talking for a long while that night and for some odd reason I feel that the dragon really liked me."

"That's not too difficult to comprehend."

The raccoon smiled at the wolf with a sideways glance. "We also talked about my interest in old works and he offered to translate a copy of his book for me. Sharing his ancient writings seemed to be something he rarely did but I guess that we hit it off, so-to-speak."

"Dragons aren't usually too common to see. Anybody else surprised to see him."

"Not really, surprisingly. Those of a fantastic and arcane descent are around however uncommon. I really appreciated his presence so I guess that might have contributed to him liking me. What surprised me was the next day as I was checking out, there was an item in the safe that was assigned to my room. The clerk turned it over to me and it was a green immaculately bound book. It was in fact a translated copy of the book already finished. Now, that had to have been magical.

Truce nodded in agreement.

"I had tried reading the book then but it began with a discussion of anatomic terminology and was short on plot, you might say. I was going to read it the next time my back acted up but it really has never gotten too bad. Given the above however, this book might be right up your alley."

"This sounds amazing and almost too perfect. You never mentioned this book before..."

"Well, I wanted to surprise you with it a couple of weeks ago. Also, the same time I felt a little embarrassed about offering you a book that I have personally not finished. I was hoping to get another crack at it first."

Oh weird but awesome raccoon thought Truce. The two were now at the university faculty parking lot standing next to the professor's burgundy Studebaker. The sun was starting to wane over the trees in the corner of the orange sky. The raccoon turned to unlock his vehicle while continuing, "I haven't yet had any success in locating it. I hope I am not just teasing you with false hope of this book."

"Well, I could help you find it. The paper is going to be due two months from now."

"Hmm... You trading your effort to find this artifact of a book in exchange for having a slam dunk thesis does sound like a good deal for both of us. Hop on in."

*

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*

The burgundy Studebaker rumbled down the bumpy roads of Pellican's Cove. The California seaside college town was more known for surfing otters than the academic institution. The car took some small roads to an old neighborhood Truce rarely visited. Windows open, he could smell the salt in the air as they drove up a green hill lined by wild old trees. They stopped in the driveway of an old 2 story house with an unkempt lawn.

"Welcome to Casa de Raccoon." Said the professor as he let off the engine. Truce found the salt blasted yellow house surrounded by large tortuous bushes charming. The raccoon let them inside and Truce was privy to the anthropology museum/library that was the professor's home. Wooden carved statues of numerous sizes and cultural origins filled the rooms, cramping the space, and leaving behind only narrow walkways. If there was not a statue ,or intriguing item, or occasional shiny, there were book cases wedged to capacity with old books. Every flat level surface was also covered in layers of open texts. Most chairs were serving a similar role.

After stopping by the kitchen for a glass of water, the two went up the hall stairs to access the hatch to the attic. On one desk, Truce could not have helped to notice several splayed out men's muscle magazines. several pages were open to some more than attractive gents. Truce asked with naive honesty, "Are you interested in fitness trends as well?"

The raccoon gulped the last bite of a fritter from the kitchen pantry into his mouth before replying, "Well, I do appreciate the discussions of diet and exercise."

Truce couldn't help but notice one particular centerfold of a massively muscular tiger with giant dumbbells in each hand, his body dripping with sweat. He also was wearing a speedo that was a couple sizes too small that bulged graphically, not leaving much of the contours behind the cloth to the imagination. The image mesmerized wolf and he quickly thought about snatching this magazine for keeps. The raccoon however continued to lead them on towards his attic. They definitely didn't have fitness magazines like that in the local Toon-mart, thought Truce, he probably got it through a subscription.

They came to a hallway interrupted by a folded down staircase that ascended to the roof. Several book filled boxes lay besides the foot of the stairs, clearly rummaged through. The raccoon scurried up the stairs, dodging around even more books laid haphazardly on the steps. He clicked on a light. Truce followed shortly and peered in.

He was surprised by the size of this attic. It was easily the biggest room in the house and was filled to neck high with stacked boxes relieved only by only small narrow walkways. The raccoon handed Truce a spelunker's helmet as the single bare hanging bulb was only good for seeing the top of the attic stairs. "Well, I guess we may as well get started."

So much for thinking that the Professor was just too fat and lazy fish out this book. This is impossible, thought Truce as he opened yet another box and flipped through each texts one by one. Looking over his shoulder to the raccoon, he saw him sitting engrossed in probably the third book he touched this night. All of these books were dear to him. Passing up the temptation of revisiting these stories to find Truce's physical therapy instruction book been a lost cause for two weeks running now.

Truce's paw pads were becoming sore from passing through so many books. It was past midnight and the professor was asleep snoring audibly with a book open on his prouberant stomach, leaning against a box. Truce's eyes were glazing over. His thoughts wandered back to that tiger picture and before he could think further about massive tiger package, Truce's headlamp began flickering and dimming. Argh, what a waste of a night he thought. There were still about twenty boxes to be searched. Exasperated, he pushed some of the boxes aside and a very old cardboard box came into view. It was barely visible now in the fading light.

He cleared two other boxes sitting on top of it and used his claws to shear through the packing tape sealing it. Inside were travel guides and an old snow globe of the golden gate bridge. 'Finally' thought Truce. Four nondescript books down, a large green thick book rested. Truce picked it up and just was able to make a firm grip of it before his headlight failed. Excitedly stumbling and tripped over strewn about books. Truce returned to the dreaming raccoon. If he wasn't so tired he'd be overtaken with the urge to hug the pudgy sleeper.

"Professor? I think I have the book."

The professor stirred slowly and yawned, "Oh, the time" said the professor, partly incoherently.

Through squinted eyes he assessed the book and then stated "I do believe you've right. "

The raccoon yawned. "Now then, you would probably like to get out of this musty attic and into your own bed." Truce would prefer staying the night in the professor's bed however he felt that it might not be the time to try pressing his luck. Truce nodded sleepily.

The professor led the way back to a gap in the attic floor that descended back to the hall. The professor took his first step on to the attic stairs then quickly dropped out view. Several loud crashes quickly followed immediately jarring Truce awake. Truce quickly rushed to the stairs almost tripping himself on books strewn across the ground. He could hear the fat raccoon groaning below.

"Professor, are you alright?!"

"I am not in much pain... at the moment... thankfully."

Truce found the professor on his side surrounded by scattered books. "Let me help you up," offered Truce.

The raccoon sat himself up and immediately winced in pain.

"Oh bother!" He blurted with frustration. "I think I've twisted something in my back."

"I guess... just take it easy a while." Said Truce now kneeling beside the fallen raccoon. He could see the raccoon holding the small of his back in dim light being cast from the attic above.

"Should I drag you somewhere?" Asked Truce who wasn't the best at formulating plans at 1 AM.

"You can probably help me up," said the raccoon gruffly.

Truce put the green book aside and put his arms around the pudgy raccoon. So warm and squishably soft, thought Truce. After some grunting, pushing, and pulling, the raccoon was upright.

"Well Truce, I don't think I'll be able to take you home tonight. I do have a guest bed for you to stay ."

"I feel pretty bad that this happened looking for my book."

"Oh, just get me to my bed at the other end of the hall and we'll be all right."