Kesh Read online

  At first, he didn’t see the creature. It was dark, and his eyes needed a moment to come back into focus. The small animal stood as still as stone almost directly in front of him on the river’s edge. But this Kesh was seeing the world through the eyes of a coyote, and his keen sense of smell even surpassed his crisp vision, so the newcomer did not escape his notice for long.

  The young coyote smiled the way coyotes do, the way certain dogs do, one tooth exposed along his dark gums. “Muskrat!” he exclaimed.

  The small brown statue suddenly came to life as Muskrat scurried up the bank. “I have to tell you, you still give me a bit of a fright when I see you dressed up in the fur and fangs.” He snorted a nervous Muskrat snicker. “But I’m happy to see you, my young friend. I hope you’ve been feeling okay and sleeping well. Remember, it is very important that you get your sleep, my boy. After all, this has been a difficult time for you. I know this, because I’ve been watching, and I get reports.”

  He edged closer, extended his tiny wet nose, almost touching the coyote’s snout, and he spoke in the hushed, soothing tones of a friend. “I know this is all hard to understand, but I have to tell you, my boy, you’ve done well. I know you’re confused and scared, but you’re a plucky one, and you’ve done better than anyone could have expected.”

  Kesh barked in disbelief. “I haven’t done anything! How could I have done well? I just don’t understand.”

  “Please trust me, Kesh. You will understand all of this soon. Just be assured that Anna is pleased.”

  “Anna? But Anna is dead.”

  Muskrat shook his head. “No, no, no!” Kesh felt the frustration in his voice. “You seem to have missed the point entirely. And I thought you were such a bright boy.” He paused and released an exasperated sigh. “Yes, yes, the Anna you met was killed, but as I tried to explain, she was not merely an individual. She was a manifestation of Anna, one tiny piece of an almost infinite puzzle. Anna is the spirit that exists in billions of spiders and, it is not too much to say that the fabric of the universe is a spider’s web. So, you see, Anna keeps close to her friends.”

  “But how could she be watching me? I haven’t seen anyone or anything spying on me.”

  Muskrat snickered. “There are tens of thousands of spider species in this world and millions of each species in many cases, even billions, Kesh. There are billions of spiders. How many spiders do you think might live in your house? How many in your school? In fact, how many do you see right here?”

  Kesh glanced at the ground and the brush at his feet. “None. I don’t see any spiders.”

  Muskrat snickered again. “Are you sure?”

  Kesh said, “I said I don’t see any spiders.”

  Muskrat snickered under his breath, and Kesh thought, He’s making me nervous. I’m obviously standing on a spider settlement, or Muskat wouldn’t be having so much fun at my expense.

  “Look again, Kesh. This time really look.”

  Kesh scanned his surroundings again. The brown leaf mold began to move, and one by one tiny legs and eyes and bodies began to peek out from under and behind the rotting leaves and twigs, and in moments, the riverbank had become a delicate sheet of phosphorescent green creatures. Muskrat said, “How many spiders do you see?”

  Kesh didn’t answer at first. It was like a sea of glittering shards of green glass, moving in a beautiful rhythm. Kesh thought about the spider he’d seen on the night this whole thing had begun, and he let out a long breath and whispered, “Okay Muskrat. I see. I guess a lot of them are in my house.” In the next instant, they were gone, leaving the ground a dark expanse of dead leaves.

  Muskrat laughed. “A lot, indeed. I do not have the spider census for 365 Ontario Drive, but you can be sure you share your home with thousands of the little creatures, and many of them are Anna. Then, there are the ants, moths, centipedes, pillbugs and cockroaches. And that is just a fraction of the creatures making a home in your home.

  “Cockroaches? We do not have cockroaches.”

  “Oh my boy, cockroaches live everywhere. They are as smart as Aristotle but incredibly annoying. And let’s not forget the mice, bats, and,” he wrinkled his nose, “the other kid of rat.”

  “Rats too?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. To be fair, they aren’t as bad as people think. They are just very, very good at what they do, and they could try to be a bit tidier.”

  “So, my house is infested?”

  Muskrat grinned. “It all depends on how you look at it. Just think of it this way; your house is not so much infested, as it is shared. The point, my boy, is you are being watched by those who care about you, and you are not disappointing them.”

  “Okay, so I’m being watched. I still haven’t done anything important.”

  “I understand your skepticism, Kesh, and humans rarely understand just how important each being is. In fact, most of us never see each other or much of anything else. You’re young and you’re learning to see the world for the first time. I don’t expect you to be able to see what we see in you, but trust me, my boy, you are a wonder in a small package.”

  Kesh cocked his head in befuddlement, and Muskrat snorted a bit too loud. “Okay, lad, I’ll explain. You’ve been seeing more and more strange things around you, especially in the other children, right?”

  Kesh nodded, “Yes. They’re all turning into animals. It’s bizarre.”

  Muskrat went on. “And, my boy, these visions have terrified you, and your new power scares you as well. Am I right?”

  Kesh nodded again.

  “You’re not so sure.”

  “Well, no I’m not. All these changes don’t feel like power to me. Superman and the X-Men have powers. These are more like a gigantic friggin’ annoyance.”

  Muskrat scolded him with his eyes. “Language, my boy.”

  “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. I understand your frustration, but you see Kesh, these are not simple illusions. You are a special creature. You have a gift, and it is truly powerful.”

  “It doesn’t feel like power. It feels…well it’s hard to say. I’m confused, and I’m worried.” He paused; then he continued. “You know, though, Muskrat, it’s not as bad as it was at first.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, but it doesn’t freak me out as much as it did when it began. Even so, I still get surprised by what I run into. It’s pretty hard to stay calm when a kid turns into a cobra all coiled up like it’s ready to strike or into a fish flopping around on the floor, and there’s this girl in school who makes me really nervous.”

  The muskrat snickered again. “Oh yes, you mean little Morgan Sikes. I know she doesn’t seem the lion type, but she’s one of the special ones. She just doesn’t know it yet. It would be a mistake to underestimate that one. That little lion is as tough as they come, and will play her role in this story. A lot of you will.”

  “So, that’s it? I see the animals inside people, and that’s what I’m supposed to do? It may be a power, but it doesn’t seem like much of one.”

  “It is certainly a big step. Do not underestimate the power of being able to see. Most humans go through their entire lives without seeing much of anything. But there is more. When you found yourself on this riverbank you told your human mind this is a dream.”

  “Well, it is a dream. But I’m not saying it isn’t real too, if that makes any sense. But, even when I’m sure that I’m wide awake, part of me and part of all this is in some other place, some kind of dream world.

  “Perhaps it is, but you are not as sure of yourself as you pretend to be. Tell me you didn’t think for just an instant that this does not feel like a dream.” Kesh didn’t answer. “Don’t you see? You are beginning to make connections, to see the bridges between waking and dreaming, between the physical and other worlds. This too is a big step, and very few young coyotes could make it as adeptly as you.”

  “So what if I do? How does this help me do
what Anna told me?”

  Muskrat’s voice was soothing, reassuring. “Kesh, my dear boy, your eyes are opening wider as your courage begins to show. We can’t fight the evil we can’t see. You have shown us that you will have a deep and powerful sight. You have a great deal to learn, but you are definitely gifted. Anna has told me she is certain you are a true coyote, and that spider does not offer praise loosely. Just know that you are doing what you need to do. We will be with you on this journey, and you will be ready when the time comes.”

  “It’s just hard to believe. It’s all so hard to believe.”

  Muskrat put a little paw on Kesh’s broad foot. “Have faith, my boy.” Then he became all business again. “For now, Kesh Jones, we have to go.”

  “Go? Go where?”

  Muskrat gestured down the trail with his head then scampered off calling, “Come on. I want you to meet someone. And don’t dawdle”

  The coyote quickly caught up to his small friend. “Who is it, the dark man or the wolf? Are we going to the rag man’s hut?”

  Muskrat, more accustomed to swimming than running, answered with breathless effort. “No, it isn’t that devil or the wolf, and I have a feeling you know that the hut was destroyed. In any case, this is something quite different.”

  “The hut was destroyed? When? What happened? Is the rag man all right?”

  “The police tore down the small hut near the river, and don’t worry about the little man. He will be pleased to know that you are concerned for his welfare, but rest assured that he is fine. Now, let’s move along. We really must go.” The two companions set off at a trot, and Kesh called out, “So who are we going to meet?”

  “Patience. It’s not far.”

  Before long, they cut north of the trail onto a path that took them to the edge of town and spilled onto Main Street. They hurried down along the edges of the street, slipping quietly beneath streetlights and between mailboxes, driveways, and barren garages. Kesh felt odd and terribly vulnerable out in the open like this, but Muskrat padded along steadily, unconcerned by the sidewalks and glaring lights. He turned onto Maple Street and veered off onto a neat lawn leading up to a pretty, two-story house. Kesh didn’t know who lived here, but he realized that he was only three or four blocks from his house and his sleeping parents.

  Kesh asked, “Whose house is this?”

  “Shhh, boy.” Muskrat waddled around to a back yard outfitted with a small playground set, a barbecue grill, and other typical back yard things all set starkly against a light covering of frost. He stopped, looked up toward a second floor window and whistled the way muskrats do. It was a soft, barely audible high-pitched whistle, and Kesh wondered what good it would do.

  His ears jumped at a sharp, loud crack, and in the next instant a window opened and a sleek, tan furred creature leapt noiselessly to the balcony, then to a lower window sill, and finally lit with impossible softness on the ground. Kesh thought the animal moved with the grace of water. She turned, and Kesh was face to face with another coyote. Her eyes, he thought, were the color of twilight, like the dark blue light that comes just before nightfall. Their gazes locked as they circled, first to the right, then to the left, dancing, testing, measuring one another, weaving in and out through the legs of the swings, the slide, circling the outdoor dining set, each holding a low, tentative growl in his and her throats.

  Kesh thought, This is silly. I’m not really a coyote. I’m a boy. Yet, he couldn’t help himself. He moved as if he had always been a wild animal. He decided he would ask Muskrat later. For now, he was a coyote, and he was doing what other coyotes do when they meet a new coyote neighbor.

  They growled, and sniffed, and watched one another until each was satisfied that the other was not a threat. This was made perfectly clear when Muskrat said, “Okay, okay, children. We have to be going.” He rushed to the front of the house and down the street, his breath puffing up in brief clouds making him look like a comical little steam engine. The two young coyotes took chase and, in a flash, loped easily along behind Muskrat. They turned in at the school, drifted past the swings and basketball courts in the playground, and cut across the adjacent track and football field into a small stand of brown overgrown brush and trees.

  When they emerged from the woods, they were on the very edge of what the people in town called Shanty Town. These were not the neat, painted, manicured homes in the center of town. They were small, many of them not much more than shacks, surrounded by the old cars and junk piles of the residents’ lives. Kesh knew about this part of town. He had been on the edge a few times, and had actually ventured through the narrow streets once, but he had gotten most of what he thought about the place from other people’s opinions and rumors.

  The kids from this part of town dressed, talked and acted rough, and Kesh made it a point to avoid them. The three slowed to a trot, and Kesh and his new friend sniffed the air warily as they went deeper and deeper into the shanty town. Here, the city streetlights stopped, and the small houses were generally unadorned — many of them sided with nothing more than black tarpaper – none had the decorative yard lights that lined the driveways and gardens of the town center. Few of them seemed to have the cheerful porches he was used to.

  The bare trees and cold glistening streets made the place seem eerily dark and foreboding. Kesh could see well enough and he felt confident in his coyote form, but there was something in the crisp air that made the fur on his back stand up and raised a low, threatening growl deep inside of him. He turned to see what that something was, and beyond the shacks above the treetops, a towering mass of smokestacks and rusted structures rose in the distance.

  In the dark sky, flames shot from the jaws of great black chimneys. Beyond, more silhouettes of buildings and chimneys jutted into the sky. He wondered why he had never seen them before, how he could possibly have missed them. He vaguely remembered his father telling him that they had stopped driving past the factory years ago out of a kind of protest against the monstrous structures. He said there was more than enough ugliness in the world, but he didn’t have to look at it every day. So they avoided the plant.

  Kesh wanted to ask Muskrat about the nightmarish city of darkness and fire, but the small creature moved with the momentum of a rodent on a mission, and he decided his questions would have to wait.

  They kept on until Kesh’s nose was hit with a rich, sickly mixture of oil, and sulfur, and other smells he couldn’t identify, chemical smells. Kesh fought off the urge to throw up and moved closer to Muskrat. He noticed the other coyote had done the same.

  Now they passed fewer and fewer houses. Some seemed abandoned. Many had broken windows, falling porches, and poorly patched roofs. A couple of them were nothing more than small trailer homes set up on cinder blocks. Then the houses were gone, and Kesh felt impossibly far from his neighborhood. When they turned onto a small narrow dirt road, the meager signs of civilization seemed to have been left behind.

  Finally, Muskrat cut in on a two-run driveway and slowed to a waddle. A dog barked frantically and made a terrible fuss just around the bend not far ahead, and he figured it must have sensed the three of them. Muskrat stopped and turned to the children. “Young miss, young mister, you wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  The tan coyote nodded, and glanced at Kesh. “Okay,” he said. Then Muskrat bounded off toward the bellowing dog. Kesh looked at his companion for an explanation, but he soon realized that she was as new to all of this as he was.

  In a moment, Kesh heard an excited yip. Then the dog was silent. Kesh felt his throat get tight, and he instinctively sniffed for something to explain what had happened, but all he smelled was the acrid stench of the smokestacks. Then the small rodent returned and gestured for them to follow him up the driveway.

  When they rounded the corner, they were met by a gigantic mastiff, at least a head taller than Kesh, broad and muscled and with a head like a huge fanged block of cement. Kesh was glad to see that the monster was unhurt and even happier to note th
at it was tied firmly to a strong post. The dog watched the three visitors intently, and Kesh couldn’t help but notice that her thick tail wagged ever so subtly.

  The house was a combination of plywood, logs and tarpaper. On the outside, it seemed small and dark, set in an open place and sheltered by strong tall pines. The air around it felt suddenly clean, and Kesh had the feeling that this was a safe, good place, somehow protected from the toxic world outside. He looked away for a moment, and when he turned back toward the house, there stood a coyote the size of a wolf, pure white expect for a jet black blaze on his forehead, and even in the dark, he was struck by its gaze.

  It was as if they had their own light source, blue and translucent as the ocean in sunlight. Like him, he was a coyote, but Kesh knew that he was a very different kind of animal. He felt both drawn to and wary of the white coyote, and he understood immediately that he was powerful.

  This time, there was no circling, no testing, no coyote games, but Kesh had a strong feeling that he knew this creature.

  Chapter Ten

  The Lesson

  Kesh and the other two coyotes trotted along easily behind Muskrat. In one way, he felt strong and free, but there was something else…he felt uneasy in his stomach, uncertain about his place here. First, as silly as it seemed, he had to admit he was not the best looking coyote of the group. Whereas his new friends had coats of warm sand and sable white, he looked pretty much like the pictures he’d seen of coyotes, the scruffy, emaciated cartoon creature he used to watch on television with his dad.

  He was terribly plain–maybe even a little homely– he thought. Even so, he was here with these remarkable animals, and he was beginning to sense the importance of this dream, of his mysterious and unsettling gift of sight, and of his role in Grandmother Spider’s story.