* * *
At their campsite, Mr. Happer and Yukiko got the fire going and prepared the meal—a pot of chopped pork with cabbage and carrots, and sticky rice. Digger and Pam collected enough firewood to last them through the night. And Corliss sulkily sat back and watched everyone.
They gathered around the fire on dried tree bark and a crooked log. And without anyone seeing him approach, Inari-san was all of a sudden sitting with them—as if he’d appeared out of thin air.
“Ah, just in time for dinner,” Corliss said with an I-knew-it nod. Inari-san sat down nervously, across the fire from Digger.
For a while the professor and Inari-san spoke in Japanese, as everyone else ate what they could lift with their chopsticks. Digger was especially eager to hear what the fisherman was telling the professor. It sounded serious. And Yukiko, who was hanging on their every word, had gotten a few surprises from whatever was being said. Also, Digger caught Inari-san staring at him a few times, which he thought maybe had something to do with the fish they’d let go.
After what felt like an hour, Professor Satori finally shared what Inari-san had told him.
“Our fisherman friend here has been witness to some odd events lately. But before I get to those, Digger, I’m sorry to say that he doesn’t recall seeing anyone who looked like your father.”
Digger’s chin sank.
“You shouldn’t let that discourage you, though. Inari-san avoids strangers when they’re around. If your father did come this way, Inari-san could have scooted off someplace before they got a look at each other. Digger, Inari-san also mentioned he hasn’t caught a single fish for over a week.”
Digger had warned himself time and again not to get his hopes up about his father. Still, he felt disappointed. And if the fisherman hadn’t seen Kappas either, then they’d come to Japan for nothing. As for Inari-san’s lack of fish, how was that the least bit important right now? Had Inari-san seen a Kappa or not?
The professor leaned toward Digger with a smile. “You seem to have gotten yourself mixed up in Inari-san’s superstitions.”
“Superstitions?”
“The big fish you hooked—the yamame—it’s bigger than any fish he’s ever caught. Inari-san believes the big ones are more valuable to the river, so he lets them go.”
The fisherman then muttered the word “power.” He eyed Digger. “They make the river strong. Strong river—more fish.”
“Inari-san tells me that fish, Digger, is the king of the river.”
“And that’s a lame excuse,” Corliss said with a mouthful of rice. “I bet he wants to go back to our fishing spot and catch the river king for breakfast.”
“Watch your mouth, Corliss.” The shimmering orange firelight accentuated Mr. Happer’s angry expression.
“As for the other things Inari-san told me . . .” The professor looked at each face around the fire. “First, he is one hundred percent sure he has seen Kappas.”
A chopstick slid out of Digger’s hand and onto his lap. He looked over the flames and into Inari-san’s eyes, which were gazing right back at him.
Yukiko checked her father’s face for any indication as to whether or not he believed the fisherman. Meanwhile, Corliss went on chewing his food as if he hadn’t heard a word the professor had said.
“Inari-san believes what he saw,” the professor assured them. “The Kappas were down there, at the very spot you were fishing.”
“Did they see him as well?” Mr. Happer asked.
“No, he doesn’t think so. And neither do I, for that matter. If they had seen him, the outcome might have been quite different.” The professor turned toward Inari-san. “Would you mind if I recounted your tale to my friends and daughter?” Inari-san awkwardly nodded his approval, and then set his eyes on Digger again.
“Before Inari-san spotted the Kappas, he heard a swishing sound in the water. It was late at night. He was outside, watching for shooting stars. Curious to see what was making the mysterious noises, he got out his knife and walked quietly down his hill. He said the crickets were silent that night. It was darker than usual. The stars seemed farther away. But there was some moonlight, he remembers. The swooshing grew louder, and became a heavy sloshing. It sounded like men marching through waist-deep water. He hoped to see a deer, or a wild pig—to put some meat on his plate. So he hid in the shadows, knife in hand and ready to pounce.” The professor made a jabbing motion, as if holding an invisible knife and the campfire was a fiery demon.
“Well? Tell them what he saw.” Yukiko was impatient with her father’s storytelling. Mr. Happer was very keen to hear what happened next. Even Inari-san was absorbed in the retelling of his story. Digger tried to make out the river, but it was too dark.
“What happened?” Pam demanded.
“He dropped his knife.”
Pam gasped. “What?” Her eyes bulged.
“Naturally, Inari-san was frightened.” The professor paused, his eyes scanning the shadows among the trees. “Furless creatures. Shells. Yellow, lizard-like eyes. Pointy elbows. Snakish skin glistening in the moonlight. Half the size of men but stronger. They crept by on short legs—moving swiftly on either side of the river.”
“What were they doing, Inari-san?” Digger asked, hoping to hear what the fisherman had to say about all this.
Inari-san shrugged. “So many of them . . . I stayed put.”
“You’re sure they weren’t monkeys?” Corliss asked dully.
“I have seen monkeys plenty of times. I know the difference.”
“But never a Kappa?” Digger asked. “That was the first time?”
“Not so many at once.” The questions were making the fisherman squirm. And Digger thought the hermit wasn’t telling them everything. “Do you know where they live?”
“They may have a lair . . .”
“You can trust us,” Yukiko said. “Do you know where they live or not?”
Inari-san didn’t want to tell them.
“Are you protecting the Kappas?” Digger asked.
“The ancient mirror. In the cave,” Inari-san uttered sharply while staring into Digger’s eyes, as though Digger might know what he was talking about.
“A mirror?” Mr. Happer asked.
“With the Kappas?” This was the first time Mr. Satori had heard anything from Inari-san about a mirror. “What use would they have for such a thing?”
Inari-san now looked agitated.
The professor picked up a thumb-thick stick. “Okay, okay . . . Let’s slow down. Not so many questions . . . We don’t want our guest to leave, now, do we?” He caressed the fire with the stick and continued the story . . . “Inari-san said the Kappas stopped to sniff the air. A few were pulling a log raft behind them. There were young and elderly Kappas on it, and some were groaning—perhaps sick. All of them carried on downriver—webbed feet sloshing in the muck.”
For a moment there was only the crackling of the fire. Digger wondered if the Kappas had left the forest, like most of the birds, fish and insects must have done.
“Once certain the Kappas were gone, Inari-san picked up his knife and went back up to his hut. He closed the door all the way. It was so quiet, he remembers, as if the trees and plants were waiting and watching for the Kappas’ return. He didn’t sleep that night. All he did was listen. When the sun came up, he went to the village and told the fishmonger what he had witnessed.” Inari-san nodded along with the professors’ words. “There’s something else—something that Mrs. Matsushita didn’t mention—the local newspaper got wind of his story and published it.”
Yukiko eyed her father. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
“I do, Yukiko.” The professor placed another piece of wood on the fire. “Big Bee. He must have read the story somewhere. He’s here—with his sons—hunting for Kappas.”
Chapter 14—Silence
No one spoke for a while after hearing Inari-san’s story. Shadows swayed among the trees, quivering in the shifting orange glow fro
m the campfire.
Was it true? Had Kappas passed through here? Digger shifted uncomfortably.
“There is another thing Inari-san told me which could be cause for concern.” The professor seemed unsure if he should say anything at all. “A man came here—to speak with Inari-san. And he was more unsettling than all the Kappas.”
“When was that?” asked Mr. Happer.
“Two days before the Kappas went downriver,” said Inari-san.
“So this was his fire pit?” Digger asked as Corliss tossed a pinecone into the flames.
“This isn’t your pit, is it, Inari-san?” asked the professor. The fisherman shook his head and somberly stared into the fire. “Inari-san told me the stranger was quite tall. He appeared in the early hours of the morning. And when Inari-san awoke, a big drooling dog was baring its teeth at him, so he stayed still. The stranger, holding a hefty black staff, was standing in the hut’s doorway.”
“He had a devil’s face,” Inari-san said in all seriousness, “with silver eyes like bullets, and a pointy chin. And his hands were partly melted from burns.”
The fisherman must have been terrified of the stranger; he seemed afraid just to be remembering him. “Wickedness,” said Inari-san. “I did not want to make the stranger angry. I did what he wanted.”
“And what was that?” Digger asked.
Inari-san either didn’t know how to explain it, or he didn’t want to remember any more.
“Actually, the stranger told Inari-san to hold onto something,” the professor said. “He gave Inari-san a green jewel, and claimed it had belonged to a mountain god.”
“A dog?” asked Corliss. Digger couldn’t tell if his cousin was joking.
“No, a god,” Yukiko corrected. Corliss smirked.
“Cool,” Pam blurted out. “A free jewel.”
“Yes, Pam, a jewel. And when Inari-san accepted that jewel, the stranger and his dog vanished into the darkness.”
“Wait, so he didn’t have a beard?” Corliss asked.
The professor looked at him curiously. “Why do you ask that?”
“The man with the snake tattoo—Big Bee.”
Digger got a shiver thinking about the man on the train.
“It could have been him,” the professor muttered to himself. “Baldric Grudgings stops at nothing to get what he wants, though I don’t know why he’d—”
“That’s impossible,” Yukiko interrupted. “It can’t be Big Bee.”
“Are you sure about that?” Corliss didn’t know what to think.
“If you and Digger saw Big Bee yesterday, and he had a long beard, but Inari-san spoke with him two weeks ago and noticed a pointy chin, then it wasn’t Big Bee. Big Bee’s beard always goes down to his belly.”
“He could have trimmed it,” Corliss suggested.
“Do bushy beards grow back that fast?”
No one answered.
Digger asked, “What about the jewel? Would Big Bee give it away?”
“No, that wouldn’t make sense,” Yukiko said confidently. “There’s no way Big Bee would give Inari-san a jewel. Grudgings take. That’s all they do. They never give, right?”
“Well, we can’t ignore the possibility it was Big Bee,” the professor said. “It was dark. A beard. A pointy chin . . . Our friend here might not be exactly sure of what he saw.”
With a humph, Corliss agreed. “That goes for Kappas, too. I mean—come on—let’s face it: nobody’s ever seen one. And this old man, who spends way too much time out here, says he watched a bunch of ’em parading down the river? You guys don’t really believe that, do you? And, hey, why don’t you show us your new jewel—if you actually have it.”
“Corliss, show respect,” Mr. Happer fumed. “I won’t tell you again. Is that clear?”
Inari-san folded his arms and glowered at Corliss. He then slipped his hand into his pant pocket, and again set his eyes on Digger. Digger could tell the fisherman wasn’t about to show them the jewel, or whatever he was holding onto in that pocket.
Corliss crossed his arms too, showing that he was equally unhappy with the situation.
“No matter what and who he saw, we ought to get some rest now.” The professor politely covered a yawn with his hand.
“Good idea.” Mr. Happer took off his hat. “We can wash up the dishes in the river in the morning.”
“Are we heading back to the minka tomorrow?” Digger asked.
“Let’s continue upriver.” The professor looked over at Mr. Happer for agreement. “Inari-san tells me there’s a spectacular waterfall nearby. We can give the Plastron-Zetetic a whirl there.”
Inari-san got up on his feet, brusquely bowed and tipped the rim of his fishing hat, and then turned and murmured something, which sounded more like a snarl than a word. Cutting short their goodbyes, he briskly made his way down the slope in the direction of his hill, all the while flailing his arms in the air.
“Stark. Raving. Mad.” Corliss said as he watched Inari-san go off in a huff.
“Why is he acting like that?” Mr. Happer asked. “Did we do anything to upset him?”
“The sweets,” Pam said.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot about the candy.” The professor grabbed a flashlight from his rucksack. With his other hand he made sure the candies were still in his pocket. “I’ll go and give these to him . . .” They could still hear Inari-san muttering bitterly in the dark. “Hopefully, I didn’t hurt his feelings. I also forgot to ask him about camping spots—for tomorrow. So I’ll take the map. I’ll be back in—er, how do you say it in English . . . ? Ah yes—a jiffy!”
* * *
Digger, Corliss, Pam, Mr. Happer and Yukiko unfurled their sleeping bags in the tents.
“Dad, do you think the Kappas will come when we’re sleeping?” Pam asked drowsily.
“I don’t know.” Mr. Happer peered out toward Inari-san’s hut, his eyes searching the darkness. “The fisherman certainly believes they’re real. In any case, we’ll find out tomorrow if the Plastron-Zetetic can detect anything out here. I’ll even let you press the button. But now it’s time for sleep.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead and she burrowed into her sleeping bag. Then he zipped shut the tent flaps.
Digger, Corliss, Yukiko and Mr. Happer waited around the fire for the professor to return. The fire’s light shimmered in the shadows and wavered in the branches, a few of which looked as if they were reaching out for them. Yukiko poked at the coals with a knobby stick. The warmth made them sleepy.
Mr. Happer stood and stretched. He searched his rucksack for the other flashlight. “Yukiko, does your father usually spend this much time seeing people off?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the ink-black silhouette of Inari-san’s hill. “Maybe Inari-san remembered more.”
Yukiko’s guess was reasonable, though Digger was suspicious as to why there hadn’t been so much as a peep from over there. Surely something the professor or Inari-san said or did would be heard across the narrow valley. A crack of a stick underfoot? A laugh? And where was the beam of the flashlight? Digger had seen it slicing through the woods after Professor Satori left. But now that light was gone.
A soft breeze tickled the fire and rattled the tent walls. Digger thought he heard an owl screech deep in the forest, but only once. He imagined bears and boars and monkeys. And Kappas dragging helpless animals into the river. He thought of Inari-san, of the Grudgings, of his mother. He thought of the snake Corliss had the courage to pick up. He wondered where his own courage was. All these fears . . . They seeped into him, and made him feel small and hopeless.
Minutes went by without a word around the fire. Corliss’s head bobbed as he fell in and out of sleep. Mr. Happer placed their thickest piece of wood in the fire pit. The log teetered at first, and some sparks shot out with popcorn-like snaps.
Yukiko was worried. Too much time had passed. “Dad!” she called across the valley, but there was no response.
“I’ll have to go see where he is,�
� Mr. Happer said uneasily. He looked down the slope. The pitch blackness was swallowing up the firelight.
“I’ll go with you,” Corliss told him. But before he could get up, his father had placed a hand on his shoulder. “No, you stay here. Keep the fire going.”
“Why don’t we all go?” Digger offered. He didn’t like the idea, but the thought of staying at the fire without his uncle was more distressing. His mother, he knew, would not approve of either choice.
“Yeah, maybe you’ll need our help,” Corliss argued.
“No—you kids aren’t going anywhere. That way, if Yukiko’s father comes back while I’m at the hut, you can tell him to stay put and wait. And if we’re all wandering around in the dark, there’s a much greater risk of someone getting hurt.”
Digger watched his uncle get the other flashlight from his rucksack. “I’ll need this,” he said, turning it on and off twice to make sure it worked. “The professor has the other one, but you have the fire. And I won’t be long. Keep the fire blazing, please. It’ll help me find my way back quickly.”
“You’ll be right back, Uncle Buddy?” Digger knew he sounded gutless, but Corliss was too tired to make fun of him.
“Of course, Digger. Five—ten minutes at most. My concern is that he’s walking around with dead batteries in his flashlight. Or his foot might have gotten stuck between rocks or roots. But if—for whatever reason—he’s still talking to Inari-san, then I’ll leave them to it.”
Mr. Happer turned on the flashlight again and set off down the hill, choosing each step carefully so as not to trip or slip.
“Keep the—”
“We know,” said Corliss. “We’ll keep the fire going.”
They watched the flashlight beam and its bright spot hop about as Mr. Happer descended into the valley. At the bottom, he started climbing up the other side, and the beam and spot became harder to see through the trees. At times they couldn’t make out any light at all, and when they could, it seemed dimmed or stifled by the enveloping gloom.
Digger Doyle's Real Book of Monsters Page 9
