Chapter 10

Remy and Baux woke to find Coyote gone.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. Mother warned me,” Remy said, not even trying to control his anger. “Coyotes are fickle. I got hoodwinked by a straggly, old, weather-beaten coyote. Well, we’ll see if I let that happen again.”

“He seemed awfully nice to me.” Baux was still shivering. “Remy, it’s cold. Really cold.”

Remy was suddenly aware that it was cold. “Let’s get into the sun.”

They clambered out of the den.

The world had changed. When they went to bed, the world was as they’d always known it. Now it was solid white. And cold. They saw that a sheet of ice had covered the stream. At least the sun was shining, not that it helped much.

Then they saw him. Coyote was at the grave, standing stock-still.

They walked over to him.

Without turning, he said, “Morning, youngsters.”

“Why are you standing here?” Remy asked.

“It’s called paying your respects. It’s the proper thing to do when someone dies.”

“But you didn’t know them.”

“No. But I knew love … and I know lost love. I know its pain.” Coyote turned. His frown turned to a broad smile. He pointed. “Breakfast?” A string of five squirrels lay motionless on the snowy ground.

Baux’s eyes bugged open.

After they’d eaten, Coyote told them it was time to go to school. He took them through the woods and showed them all manner of things, such as raccoon and opossum tracks that were temporarily preserved in the snow. He made them follow their trails for as long as they could, using both sight and scent. Coyote showed them the nests of owls and hawks, and he explained the differences between the two. One difference he said was that owls only came out between dusk and dawn.

“You know, Coyote, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Remy started. “I thought coyotes only came out between dusk and dawn.”

“Still studying, eh, Remy? Well, thing is, I’m a dog, not a vampire.”

Even Remy laughed.

Coyote and Baux talked more as they walked. Coyote was smiling and so was Baux.

Remy felt good. It’d been a long time since he felt this good. His belly was full for one thing, but the main thing was something else, something he never would have expected. He’d never admit it to Coyote, but having Coyote around took a lot of pressure off him. He no longer needed to always keep his eyes open, looking for the next danger. He could relax and enjoy himself and the day and his brother. But then he remembered his mother’s words about coyotes. But this coyote seemed different. He wished he could talk to his mother. After all, she knew this coyote. What did she think of him? Did she trust him? Should he?

Coyote decided to show them how to hunt for something other than mice. He took them into a part of the woods that had fewer trees and more brush lower to the ground.

“This is where you’ll find rabbits.”

He showed them how to look for the “doors” to their nests. He explained how most rabbits had two doors for every nest. It was best to know beforehand where those doors were located. One dog might be lucky and catch a rabbit, but if the two of them worked in unison, and if they were patient, they could almost be guaranteed of snatching a rabbit every time. And, as Coyote said, rabbits made “good eats.”

They closed in on a suspected nest. Coyote poked his long snout into the “front” door. Suddenly, several feet behind him, a rabbit came dashing out. Remy and Baux, who’d been told where to stand, nearly caught him, but the rabbit zigged when they zagged and Baux fell to the ground.

Coyote noticed that Baux was slow getting up.

“We almost had that one. And he was a plump one,” Remy said.

Coyote went to Baux and lowered his snout onto him. Remy went still when he saw this. He suddenly realized something was wrong with his brother.

“You have a fever,” Coyote said.

For the first time, Remy heard unease in Coyote’s voice. And it made him nervous.

Remy ran to his little brother. “Baux, let’s get you back to the den.”

“No, wait,” Coyote said.

“Wait for what? We need to get Baux warm,” Remy said, ready to argue.

“It’s going to get even colder tonight. You know that, Remy. There’ll be more snow, maybe ice. That den’s too drafty.”

“We can fix it up. Bring in some pine straw and branches,” Remy said, getting angry.

“Look, Remy, you’re not cut out to be in this kind of weather, not at your age. Baux certainly isn’t cut out for it; he’s already sick and it’s not even the coldest part of winter yet. He needs to be inside.”

“He’ll be inside the den.”

“No. He needs more than that. He needs to be inside a house, in front of a fire. He needs some hot food. He needs things like medicine that we simply can’t give him, otherwise he might die.”