Mercy Thompson 06 - River Marked

Coyote.
    “‘We know what you should do,’ his sisters said. ‘But we won’t tell you because you’ll just take all the credit like you always do.’
    “But they were his sisters, and Coyote was very persuasive. He promised that this time he would tell everyone who was responsible for such a clever plan. At last they told him what to do. Following their advice, he took nine flint knives, a pouch of jerky, a rock, a torch, and some sagebrush and walked down to the river.
    “‘Come eat me,’ he told the monster.
    “And it did. As soon as it had swallowed him, he used the flint and stone to light his torch. Inside the monster were all of the first people it had eaten. They were very hungry, having not had food since they had been eaten by the monster. They were also cold because the monster was as chill inside as the river was outside.
    “Coyote lit the sagebrush and shared out his jerky among them. He told the first people that he was going to kill the monster. Then, he told them, they would have to find their way out as best they could.
    “So he took his first flint knife and started carving his way through to the monster’s heart. He hadn’t worked very long on the tough flesh before his first knife broke, and he had to bring out his second. The second knife broke, the third, and the fourth. Until at last he was down to his very last knife. But that one cut into the heart of the monster.
    “ ‘Run!’ he told the trapped people. ‘Get out.’ And they did, escaping the dying monster any way they could. Out its mouth, out its gills, and out its bottom.”
    “I thought this wasn’t the rude version,” I said.
    Calvin grinned but kept going. “Beaver was the last to leave. He just barely escaped out the beast’s sphincter—and that is why the beaver’s tail is flat and has no hair.”
    I groaned.
    “At last it was only Coyote and the monster in the river, and Coyote had the upper hand.
    “‘I will let you live,’ said Coyote, ‘only if you promise never to eat anyone ever again.’ The monster promised, and Coyote let it live. The beaten river monster sank to the bottom of the Columbia and never was heard from again. The grateful people threw a feast for Coyote, and he ate twice as much as anyone else.
    “‘ Tell us,’ the people said. ‘How did you come up with such a clever plan?’
    “And Coyote forgot the promises he made because he is vain and forgetful. He claimed all the credit for rescuing the people.”
    Finished with his story, Calvin turned to look at the river devil hovering on the rock. “There’s no saying that the river devil and the monster in the Coyote story are the same beast, but I was told to tell you the story after you saw the rock.”
    “And about Benny,” Adam reminded him.
    “He’s going to be okay,” Calvin said. “Physically. The police are giving him a little bit of a bad time because he told them he doesn’t remember what happened or where his sister is, and the doctors are having trouble with figuring out what happened to his foot. But Benny’s not talking to them because it is none of their business, and they wouldn’t understand anyway.”
    Calvin leaned against the fence that protected the petroglyphs. He looked at us. “I don’t see what this has to do with you. Why my uncle and my grandfather think it has anything to do with you. I mean, I understand why he thinks you won’t run away from the crazies when we start talking river monsters that eat people. But why is it your business?”
    “Good question,” I agreed. “I’d be happy if someone had some answers.”
    “Tell us about Benny,” said Adam, who was used to taking responsibility for the world on his broad shoulders. If there was a problem, and he thought he could help, he would.
    Calvin looked at him as if he were seeing him for the first time. Maybe he heard Adam’s willingness to put his life on the line for a bunch of people he didn’t know, too. After an awkwardly long moment, he said, “Benny told my uncle that he and Faith were out fishing, like they do a couple of times a month in the summer. They’d caught a couple of fish yesterday and were about ready to pack it in when something hit Faith’s line hard enough that she thought they’d snagged some garbage. She could have just cut the line, but she and Benny, they’re good folk. They don’t like leaving hooks and line in the river if they don’t have to.”
    A truck was pulling into the parking lot next to