Raven Stole the Moon by Garth Stein
“We slept together once.”
Robert didn’t react visibly. His face remained unchanged, his eyes focused on Eddie. But his insides were on fire.
“Did you like it?”
Eddie sighed and shook his head. He sat down on the brick fireplace and rubbed his forehead.
“You don’t understand. It’s not about that.”
“Have you ever been married?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know what it’s about?”
Oh, man, Eddie felt like shit. This whole thing was a mistake. If they hadn’t been greedy and gone on that extra halibut opening, he wouldn’t have hurt his arm and he never would have met Jenna and he wouldn’t be having this conversation.
“Mr. Rosen—”
“Call me Robert. After all, we’re practically brothers.”
“Okay, Robert—”
“Pussy partners. A friend of mine calls it pussy partners. Get it?”
“Yeah, look, Robert, I understand that you’re angry. But you have to understand: I’m not the problem here; I’m the symptom. Jenna is very upset and she feels very alone—”
“I wonder if you could do me a big favor and stop telling me about my wife.” Robert’s voice was shaking. He tried to appear calm, tried not to make sudden movements or let go of the sofa cushions so Eddie could see his hands shake. But he was very upset.
“I mean, maybe I’m out of line, Ed, but did you two just meet, or has this been going on for years behind my back?”
“We just met.”
“Okay, you just met. So here’s the deal. We just met, too, only about ten years ago. So do me a favor, don’t tell me what Jenna’s problems are. Okay? I think I have a pretty good idea.”
Eddie shrugged and looked into the fire, and Robert tried to slow down his heart rate. He hadn’t wanted to get upset, but it just came out. The idea that this guy would come in like he knew Jenna and tell Robert what was going on. Incredible. Robert had spent every day with her, slept every night next to her for almost ten years, and now this guy was going to explain Jenna to him. It was beyond words. It was frustrating. Aggravating. Infuriating.
Robert hurled himself off the sofa and to the back door. He went out into the yard and walked down toward the water. He wanted some fresh air and to be alone. He needed to calm down and get himself under control. Another hundred and eighty-nine hours to go. He would have to pace himself if he was going to make it.
DAVID WANDERED through the woods concentrating on keeping his mind clear. He must be blank. He must be no more conspicuous than a leaf on a tree. That is how a shaman moves. Reflecting his surroundings, not commenting on them. There is no room for interpretation in the shaman’s world. Things exist and that is all. Nothing is surprising; nothing is startling. It is no more unusual for a bear to talk to a shaman than a twig to fall from a tree. The sun may seem to rise and set in five minutes and then do it again. It is simply nature revealing a different side of itself to the shaman. No cause for alarm.
But the world waits to reveal itself to a shaman. It never happens on the first day. A shaman must fast. A shaman must not rely on earthly energy to see; he must rely on his internal energy. Therefore, he must deprive himself of food until the only thing that keeps him moving is his inner spirit. When his inner spirit is so exposed, nature may choose to reveal itself.
It may take a day; it may take eight days. If it has not happened by the eighth day, the shaman knows that the spirit world has not found him worthy and has refused his entry. Some shamans choose to continue the fast until they die, not wanting to suffer the humiliation of defeat. Others will return to their people, pretending they have the power. They are usually punished by the spirits and end their lives in misery.
David’s first fast, when he was eighteen, lasted eight days. On the sixth day, David didn’t think he could continue. He lay on the ground, his stomach cramping as it shrunk, unable to move because of the weakness in his legs. He lay on the ground in agony as the sun beat down on him. And as the sun set on his sixth day, and David had all but resolved to give up his quest and return to his father a failure, he was approached by a spirit. It was the spirit of the land otter. The kushtaka. The most powerful spirit and the most coveted by a shaman.
They sat across from each other, David and the otter, for two days, staring into each other’s eyes. The otter revealed things to David, shared its knowledge with him. Which roots would make him strong, how to look for coves where fish were plentiful, how to kill an animal without causing it undue pain, how to look into the sky and see what the future would hold. All of these things were whispered into David’s ear by the spirit who had accepted him into its realm. And then, on the eighth day of his fast, David was strong, so strong. The otter that had given him the gift was no longer in need of its earthly body and it fell over, dead. David cut out the otter’s tongue and wrapped it in a piece of chamois, binding it tight with a sinew of bear gut. In this little bundle was his power to speak with the spirits, and he wore it around his neck always. It told the spirits that he had the power, and they must regard him with respect.
A shaman must renew his power or lose it. Every year, a shaman must fast to prove his worth to the spirit world. Several years ago, David had not shown his respect for the spirit world in this way. He had abused his power, using it for selfish means, and he had grown weak and soft. At Thunder Bay, the kushtaka shaman had shown David the error of his ways and David had never forgotten it.
But David was strong now. He had fasted this spring, so he was sharp and ready. And unlike his last encounter with the kushtaka, David knew what to expect this time. He was afraid, true. When Jenna had first approached him, he was too afraid even to consider helping her. But upon reflection he realized that he had to help her. He had an obligation. Not to Jenna. To himself. He owed himself the chance to avenge the death of his child. He deserved the chance to strike back at the kushtaka shaman who had stolen from him.
So David wandered through the woods, open to the spirits, ready for something to show him the way. His path would open to him, he knew. The way would be made clear. He just had to be willing and patient.
ROBERT SAT ON the beach for quite a while, reviewing the successes and failures of his life. Mostly failures, it seemed to him. A failure to assess situations adequately, that’s the crux of the problem. An inability to see things from more than one side. One of the tenets of business school. You have to look at problems from as many sides as possible. Put yourself into other people’s shoes. That’s the other thing, and the most important thing in terms of negotiating. Find out what the other side wants and don’t give it to them easy. Give them things they don’t want cheap and make them pay for the things they do want. Supply and demand. Whether or not that applies to personal relationships, Robert didn’t know. And that was mostly why he was mad. Because he had never thought about it.
The smell of burning wood hung in the air, and Robert could see Eddie tending the fire inside. Robert was pretty hungry, but he would be damned if he was going back into that house. Not with that adulterer. He’d wait out here for the shaman guy to get back. Robert hoped Livingstone would be back by nightfall.
As the evening arrived, the air got cooler and Robert felt a chill. He leaned his back against a large piece of gnarled driftwood and pulled his windbreaker up around his ears. He’d have to give up and go inside soon. But he wanted Livingstone to get back first. He could save himself a little integrity that way. And if Jenna was with him, great. Robert thought he could get a little time in before they saw Eddie, and Robert could explain things. Tell her that he loved her.
Off in the distance, down the beach, Robert saw a figure and was relieved. That would be Livingstone, back at last. As the figure approached, Robert got up and brushed the sand off his jeans. He walked to the water’s edge and picked up a couple of flat stones and skipped them through the waves.
When he looked up again, the figure was close enough that Robert could see
“Hello, neighbor,” the man called out, a hint of a hick accent.
Robert waved back. “Evening.”
The man stopped about fifteen feet away from Robert and turned to the water.
“Beautiful night tonight,” he said, taking a deep breath of air and admiring the surroundings.
“Beautiful.”
“Nights like these and I know why I love this place so much. Except for the mosquitoes.”
Robert laughed. The mosquitoes were pretty big, but for some reason mosquitoes didn’t bother Robert much. Must have been all the vitamin B he took.
“See that dark area out there?” The man pointed to a dark spot out in the water. “That there’s a school of chums. Makes me want to grab my nets and head on out.”
“You’re a fisherman?” Robert asked.
“You could say that,” the man said, smiling.
The man stared out at the water for a few moments. A bird called out from the distant hills.
“You’re waiting for David?” the man asked, not looking at Robert. Robert was a little surprised.
“How did you know?”
The man laughed.
“He sent me to get you. Said to me, ‘Go get Robert and bring him here.’ ”
“Huh. That’s strange. How did you know I was Robert?”
“Well, now, how do you think? He described me to you. He said for you to come alone. Leave Eddie here to tend the fire.”
“That’s strange,” Robert said, looking the man over. “Eddie’s up in the house; I’ll go tell him we’re going.”
Robert turned and headed up toward the house, but the man stopped him.
“No need. We’ll be back quick.”
Robert looked at the man and realized that something seemed weird about him. He kept pulling at the bill of his hat, like it didn’t fit his head. And he kept turning around and looking out at the water.
“I’d better tell him. He might get worried. It’ll just take a second.” Again, Robert headed toward the house. The man followed, staying back a bit.
“How far away is it?” Robert asked the man.
“Not far. Just around the bend.”
They took a few more steps.
“You know,” the man said, “your wife is waiting there with your son. If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss them.”
Robert stopped and turned.
“Bobby?”
“He’s a good boy. You raised him well.”
Robert stared at the man. What was he talking about? Jenna waiting with Bobby. Robert finally realized what was so strange about the guy. He had really dark eyes. Practically black.
“Bobby’s dead.”
“Well, now,” the man said, chuckling, “that all depends on what you mean by ‘dead,’ doesn’t it?”
The man smiled up at Robert, and Robert saw that his teeth were a mess. All crooked and brown. Still, though, the man was nice enough. He came to help out Livingstone. Robert didn’t know why he was giving the guy a hard time. It was no biggie, really. He’d just go see what was up and be back before dark. He took a step toward the man, who held out his hand to Robert.
“That’s it, Robert, come with me. You’ll be surprised how big Bobby is.”
“But Bobby’s dead.”
“Is he?”
Robert was confused for some reason. It didn’t make sense to him. The man kept talking about Bobby like Bobby was alive. But he died. Didn’t he? He couldn’t remember really. It all happened so long ago. There was a fog in Robert’s head. A fog that didn’t let him remember. He could have sworn something happened. Something. But he gave up. It wasn’t worth fighting against. It would come back to him. He’d go with the old man and find Bobby and ask him. He took the old man’s hand and started back toward the beach.
EDDIE SAW THE whole thing from the house. Robert and the stranger were only about twenty yards from the door when they stopped to talk. And at first, Eddie didn’t think anything of it. But then, when Robert took the stranger’s hand and they began to walk away, the stranger flashed a look up at Eddie and Eddie realized what was going on. He knew that the stranger was a kushtaka.
Eddie ran to the fireplace and grabbed the hot poker. He remembered David saying that the kushtaka can’t stand metal, and he hoped it was true. He ran out the door and down the hill with the hot poker.
When he reached the two men, he called out. They turned. Robert was genuinely surprised to see Eddie.
“Eddie, I’m going with this man to see Jenna and Bobby.”
The man smiled at Eddie. “You can come, too, Eddie.”
Eddie grabbed Robert’s arm.
“No, thanks. You should stay with me, Robert.”
But the man didn’t let go of Robert’s hand.
“Robert’s coming with me. You can come, too, if you like.”
Their eyes met and Eddie felt a little strange. A little light-headed, a little sleepy.
“You can come, too,” the old man repeated. But the voice that came out wasn’t the old man’s. It was Jenna’s.
Eddie fought against it. He felt the fingers pulling at him. Something urging him to follow. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. David said to stay in the house. He had to fight it. They were tricking him. Using Jenna’s voice to trick him. He had the metal. Now he must use it. He lifted his arm. It was heavy. So heavy he could barely raise it. He struggled to lift it, and then he swung the hot poker, hitting the stranger on the side of his neck.
The scream was horrifying. It wasn’t a human scream and it wasn’t an animal scream. It was something else. A sound that seemed to freeze in the air, eclipsing all other sounds, coming from all around them, crushing them into the ground. The stranger let go of Robert and recoiled. Robert and Eddie, free from the spell, watched as the stranger, holding his hands to his neck, changed in front of them, hair sprouting from its face, arms collapsing into its chest, the sound of bone cracking as its legs seemed to retreat into its body, its mouth open, its neck disappearing; it was only three feet tall now, standing on a pile of the clothes it previously wore, but its teeth and eyes seemed huge. They were the same size as when it was a man, and now the teeth looked fierce and the eyes were devil’s eyes and the tongue was that of a demon.
Eddie swung the poker at the creature, but it easily dodged out of the way. Eddie swung again and missed. The creature circled around him, scampering on the ground so fast Eddie could hardly follow it.
“Run!” he yelled to Robert, and they took off. But it was too fast for them. The creature shot up the hill and across their path and then it came straight for Eddie, leaping at his face with its claws extended. Eddie batted at it and clipped its side so it tumbled to the ground, but before Eddie could turn to face it, the creature leapt at him again, this time hitting its target and sinking its teeth into Eddie’s thigh.
Eddie screamed and fell to the ground, dropping the poker. He felt the teeth dig deeper into his leg. If he could reach the poker . . . It was just out of his grasp, only a few inches, but the ripping pain in his leg held him back. Robert turned and saw that Eddie was in trouble. They were only a few feet from the house. Robert could make it. He could get inside and slam the door. But what about Eddie? He had to help him. He hesitated.
“Help me,” Eddie pleaded, looking up at Robert, his good arm outstretched on the ground, falling short of the metal baton that could save him. “Please.”
Robert didn’t know why he hesitated. He knew that he had to help Eddie, and he knew that he ultimately would. But still, there was a flash in his mind of self-preservation. A thought of every man for himself. And that thought froze him in place. It froze him until the kushtaka pulled its teeth from Eddie’s flesh and looked up at Robert. Then reflex took over, and in one swift movement Robert picked up the poker and swung it at the creature like a golf club, hitting it square across the head and sending it hurli
They sprawled on the floor, exhausted. Robert helped Eddie slip off his jeans so he could see the wound. It was a deep bite, but it wasn’t life-threatening. Robert took off his shirt and held it to the wound to stop the bleeding. Then he went into the kitchen to get a bowl of warm water so he could clean it.
When he came back into the living room, his heart almost stopped. The old man was there, again, outside the glass, looking in. He was naked, holding a pile of clothes in one arm. The man put his free hand to his head and touched a huge, bleeding gash on his forehead. The wound that Robert had inflicted. He smiled and looked up at Robert.
“Come with me, Robert,” he said, through the glass. “It’s not far. Jenna and Bobby are there.”
Robert helped Eddie up onto a chair, and as he soaked the washcloth in the warm water, he realized his hands were shaking. Eddie saw it, too.
“David said we’d be safe in here,” Eddie said.
Robert nodded and glanced toward the door. The man was still there, smiling. He slowly and deliberately put on each article of clothing until he was fully dressed. Robert gritted his teeth and focused his attention on Eddie’s leg. His heart was pounding and his hands were shaking and that creepy guy outside wasn’t helping things.
Robert cleaned the wound and found some bandages in the bathroom. Then he and Eddie sat by the fire and watched the man in flannel standing outside. The man didn’t move; he stood beyond the glass, looking in, smiling at Robert and Eddie.
IN THE NIGHT David built a fire and drank of the devil’s club. The devil’s club root can only be found in the Alaskan wilderness and has been used for centuries by the native people as a source of strength and nourishment. Peeled and boiled in water, the root makes a strong tea that shamans drink when fasting to give them energy. Later, David bathed himself in the icy water of a brook, another ritual that provides strength for a shaman. Then he slept by the fire until morning.
In his dreams, a wild dog came to him and led him down a narrow path, through thickets of salmonberry bushes, to the mouth of a stream that fed into the ocean. Along the bank of the stream, David could see a hollow, just above the waterline, covered with moss and grasses. David knew what this hollow was. The dog vanished and David woke from his sleep.