Dinner was such that people had to cluster around a couple of picnic tables. Danny and Debbie wound up across the table from John and Candice. By now, it was common knowledge that Candice was going to run the Iditarod next winter. Except, when Danny asked, there were second thoughts going on. "I may decide to ask for my entry fee back," Candice said. "The thought is making John very uncomfortable."

"It’s not so much that," John said. "I just hate the thought of having her gone from the boys and me, doing something dangerous. The boys need her and I need her."

"I don’t think it’s that dangerous," Candice said. "And the way Phil did it this year, he was only gone a month. I was gone two weeks doing support."

"And I missed you every minute of it," John said. "Maybe it’s not right, but I keep thinking I married a wife, not a dog musher."

"I’ve been telling him that people change," Candice frowned. "Change is good sometimes. It was good to change our lives and move up here."

"Yeah," John said sounding quite exasperated, "but I wasn’t expecting this much change. Sometimes I wish I’d taken that offer from Walker, Wade to stay in Decatur."

"Yeah, with the lousy schools and the long commute to work," Candice snorted. Realizing that they were going down a road in public that they’d been down in private all too often before, she shrugged and turned to Debbie. "I sure wish there was some phrase in your language that could settle this issue between us as easily as you settled down Vandal."

"That one wouldn’t work," Debbie smiled. "For one thing, you’re not dogs. But if you like, I’d be willing to lend a little katara wisdom, perhaps after dinner. No guarantees, but it might help."

"I’m willing to give it a try," John said, glancing over to where Vandal was still hiding in his doghouse.

"I have to admit, you have me curious," Candice smiled.

"What do you have in mind, Debbie?" Tiffany asked.

"Oh, just a little Indian wisdom and magic," she grinned. "Tiffany, could you and Josh perhaps find me some kindling wood? I’d like to have small sticks, possibly small parts of boards, small so I can have a fast fire. Cedar if you have it, but anything will work."

"Sure," Josh said. "I’ve got plenty out in the barn, scraps left over from construction, mostly. I thought we could use it for a campfire on a tour sometime. Maybe even a little cedar."

"Excellent," Debbie smiled. "Also, a couple note pads or notebooks, pens, and envelopes."

"Sure, I can find something," Tiffany smiled. "I’m looking forward to seeing what you’re cooking up."

Actually, Danny was too – but he was at least wise enough to know that Debbie was being mysterious with a purpose.

It was half an hour before they finished with dinner. Debbie had the group gather in a circle around one of the charcoal grills, which still glowed with hot coals, and asked John and Candice to stand at her side. Carefully, using fire tongs, she build a small criss-crossed stack of kindling wood right on top of the glowing charcoal. A little to Danny’s surprise, the wood didn’t immediately catch fire, even though those coals were pretty hot.

"All right," Debbie said. "If you’d all be quiet, let’s get started. Danny, if you’d just tap a little kosanti on the tabletop, please. With your fingers or your hand would be fine." It was quiet enough that everyone could hear the sound of his fingers, going tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. Debbie raised her eyes to the sky, chanted for a few seconds, then stared down at the pile of wood, for possibly a minute or more, arms held wide. Silence filled the air around the group, with the exception of Danny’s fingers on the table.

All of a sudden, with no warning, she brought her hands together in a loud clap. Then another, and another – and on the third clap, the pile of sticks burst into flame. It seemed like . . . magic. Wondering just a little, Danny kept up the rhythm, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap, as Debbie began to tell a story. "Coyote was out hunting, and he found a big shell. Coyote picked it up, took it with him in his mouth and went up to see the beavers. The beavers had all the water behind a dam, so when anyone wanted any water to drink or to cook or to wash, they had to go and get it from the beavers.

"‘Hey, beaver people,’ Coyote said, ‘I have a big shell. I want a big drink of water. I want to drink for a long time.’

"‘Give us that shell,’ said the beaver people, ‘And you can drink all the water you want.’

"‘I’m going to keep my head down for a long time,’ Coyote said, ‘Because I’m really thirsty. Don’t worry about me.’

"The beaver people said they wouldn’t worry, and Coyote began drinking. He drank for a long time. Finally one of the beaver people said, ‘Coyote, you are drinking a lot of water here. What are you doing that for?’

"Coyote brought his head up out of the water, and said he was thirsty, and went back to drinking. After a while, one of the beaver people said, ‘Coyote, you sure are drinking a lot. Maybe you’d better give us another shell.’

"‘Just let me finish this drink,’ said Coyote, putting his head back under water.

"The beaver people wondered how a person could drink so much water. They didn’t like this. They thought Coyote might be doing something. And he was. Coyote was digging under the dam all the time he had his head under water. When he was finished, he stood up and said, ‘That was a good drink. That was just what I needed.’

"Then the beaver dam collapsed and the water went out into the valley and made the creeks and rivers and waterfalls. The beaver people were very angry. ‘You have taken all the water, Coyote!’ they cried.

"John and Candice," Debbie said, taking each one by the hand, "Coyote told the beaver people, ‘It’s not right that one people have all the water. Now it is where everyone can have it.’ That is what Coyote did. Now anyone can go down to the river and have a drink of water, or some water to cook with, or wash themselves with, or just swim around in.

"That is the story of Coyote and the beaver people," she said. "The story of John and Candice is yet to be finished, so I cannot tell it. But each of you has concerns of the other over Candice’s plans. I would ask both of you to commit your concerns to the spirits, that they may help you write your story. Are you willing to do that?"

"Yes," Candice said quietly.

"Y-yes," John agreed, still not quite sure of what to make of all this.

"Very well," Debbie told them. "Each of you go to a separate table. Tiffany will give you a paper and pen. Each of you write your concerns about the other on a single sheet of paper, no more, then seal them in the envelope and return with it to me. While you are writing, your friends will stand here silently watching the fire. Those who are of a mind to pray can pray to the spirits to ask for their help with your story. Would you do that for me?"

"Good," Debbie smiled. "Go now. Remember the story of Coyote and the beaver people. And may the spirits watch over your shoulders."

Silence reigned – except for the continuing tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap as John and Candice each headed for a table and started to write. Even though Danny was steadily tapping at the table, curious as anyone to see what Debbie was up to, he stared at the flames of the small fire in the charcoal grill, dancing and blazing merrily. Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

It took several minutes, perhaps as much as five, before both John and Candice came back up to where Debbie stood waiting by the fire, head staring down at the flicker of the flames and the sound of Danny’s knuckles – his fingers were getting tired – rapping on the table.

"Good," Debbie said, in a slow voice. "Many peoples have stories of Coyote. Sometimes he is Raven, sometime he is Fox, always he is a trickster, often tricking evil for the cause of good and making things right with the people. Coyote is watching your concerns right now. Each of your concerns is a legitimate one, and the spirits know this. But are you not having trouble seeing that the other’s concerns are legitimate for them? Are each of you willing to accept the other’s concerns and make them your own? I ask you now to give your concerns to the other, in the papers you have written."

Frowning a little and not seeing the point, John and Candice exchanged envelopes.

"Accepting each other’s concerns and taking them as your own is difficult, is it not?" Debbie smiled. "John and Candice, you have been a couple for a long time. You know that you have to give sometimes, take sometimes, and each of you must give more than you take. Each of you know that each of you is right and each of you is wrong, sometimes a little and sometimes a lot. Would you rather just give your concerns to the spirits, and get on with making the story of your lives?"

"Yes," Candice said, visibly crying. "I’m willing. I’m sorry, John."

"I’m willing," he agreed. "I shouldn’t be so selfish. I’m sorry, Candice."

"Good," Debbie smiled. "Then let’s give your concerns to the spirits and be done with them." She reached out and took each of them by the wrist that was holding the envelope, and together guided the envelopes toward the flames of the fire. Within seconds of each other, both caught fire, but Debbie held onto John and Candice’s hands until the flames were close to their fingers. "Drop them in the fire and be done with them," she intoned, letting the two wrists go and stepping back.

It was well that she got out of the way, for if she hadn’t moved, she’d have been in the way of John and Candice throwing their arms around each other, and setting off a seriously hot kiss. Debbie held her fingers to her lips, and silently motioned everyone away from the two. Quietly, she led the procession up to the house, to leave them alone.

Inside, the atmosphere was a little less solemn. "That’s something," Phil shook his head. "They’ve been snapping at each other for a couple months. Does that mean she’s running after all?"

"I don’t know," Debbie shrugged. "It’s for them to decide. The spirits willing, they will both be the ones to decide. I expect you’ll know in a day or two." She glanced out the window, watching John and Candice get in their car, and snuggle up to each other like a pair of teenagers. In seconds they were gone, and no one watching had any doubts where it was they were heading.

"Danger," Josh shook his head. "Katara at work."

*   *   *

Despite the absence of John and Candice from the party – and everybody figured they were doing some serious partying of their own, although no one mentioned it – it was a good party. Josh got some more scrapwood from the barn and built up a little bigger fire; Jennifer and Blake pulled out their guitars and had a little jam session, and Debbie was called on to tell another couple traditional stories.

For once, no one pushed Danny about Redlite Ranch stories, and he was just as happy, for it didn’t take much for him to imagine the place right now, with Amelia pursuing her chosen trade. It still made him unhappy, and he still didn’t like the guilt – and he knew there was nothing he could do about it. But, after this evening, he thought that maybe sometime, when the time was right, he’d better think about giving Debbie the outline of the story. Maybe she could help him work his way through the guilt.

It was after midnight when Danny and Debbie got into the Tracker and headed back to the trailer park on Hannegan’s Cove. "Danger, katara at work," Danny grinned when they were finally in bed. "Debbie, that was impressive. You just about had John and Candice wrapped around your little finger, but they wrapped themselves around each other instead."

"That was what I intended," she laughed. "I didn’t give them any answers. They already knew them, they were just too stubborn to admit it, so I helped them out a little with some katara magic and wisdom."

"That story of Coyote and the beaver people seemed to hit them pretty hard," he shook his head. "Where’d you get that?"

"I read it in one of Reverend Carter’s journals," Debbie smiled. "It’s a traditional story. I thought it was appropriate, partly because it’s about selfishness, and partly because I was playing Coyote tonight."

"Coyote, the trickster?" he shook his head. "I guess I’m just a dumb white man. I missed the total significance of it. They sure got it, though."

"Of course they got it," Debbie snorted. "I wasn’t being mysterious for you, I was being mysterious for them. They figured there had to be some special significance to the story because I was telling it, so they dug out of it what they needed. Like I said, I was being Coyote."

"The trickster," he sighed. "I get it now. And the business with burning the concerns?"

"Pure symbolism," she smiled. "Again, they knew what they had to do, but they needed a hook to hang it on. I just wrapped it in a little ceremony they didn’t understand because it was only intended to look like mysticism. Katara as Coyote. In this case, katara wisdom, with a little katara magic thrown in."

"Magic? You mean that business with the fire? How in hell did you do that, anyway?"

"My korican, am I going to have to give you all my little secrets?" she laughed. "Actually, that was nothing katara at all, it’s a trick I saw an uncle of mine do two or three times. I always wondered how he did it, and finally I spent some time figuring it out. The coals aren’t quite hot enough to get the wood burning, Danny, and there isn’t quite enough air moving to support flame. I let the wood sit there until it was quite hot. I was standing there watching for the wood to catch fire by itself, and I could see it was getting just set to go. Then clapping my hands put enough air on the fire to heat it up just enough for the wood to catch, and once it caught, the flames kept the air moving. That’s how fire works. As it was, I almost loused it up. I was trying to set it off with the first clap."

"Could have fooled me. In fact, you did fool me. I thought the three claps was rather dramatic, though."

"It did help the effect," she laughed. "It was all psychology and showmanship, but I think it got through to John and Candice, which is what I intended."

Danny shook his head. "Hudaroi of mine, I think I’ve learned a lot about kataras tonight. I see now it’s a lot more than history and spiritualism."

"Good, you’re finally learning," she laughed. "I had a little belief there tonight. Or willingness to believe, or at least willing suspension of disbelief. Now, don’t you dare tell John and Candice anything of what I’m telling you. That is a story they will pass down to their grandchildren and their children beyond, and we wouldn’t want to spoil it for them, would we, now?"

"My lips are sealed." he laughed. "Now, what was the deal with the dog?"

"You know, korican," she laughed. "I think I will keep a couple of my trade secrets."

*   *   *

Josh still took a couple runs or half-runs a week in order to keep the schedule going, and the half-run on Keyhole Monday afternoon was one of them. It was a last-minute change, and Danny figured that Josh had scheduled himself on the run just to twist his arm about the dog.

He was right.

"That was the damnedest thing," Josh gushed, just as soon as he got Keyhole up to speed. "That was a real dog whisperer thing, if I ever saw one. Vandal has been a pain in the ass since the first. He just absolutely hated the dog barn, and being out on the old lot didn’t help. But he was still cringing in his doghouse on Sunday, and hadn’t even come out to eat. I never saw a more scared dog in my life. I figured a change of scenery would perk him up, and I had to literally carry him while he was pissing himself, but when I got him up to the dog barn you never saw a happier dog in your life."

"Not surprising," Danny grinned. "After all, you run a strain of dog that’s pretty much Athabaskan village dog, and Shakahatche is Athabaskan. They’re probably genetically cued to be frightened at that phrase."

"That’s bullshit and you know it," Josh snorted. "You’ve been listening to that crazy katara lover of yours too long. I want to know what the hell she could have said!"

"Maybe you really don’t want to know," Danny laughed.

"Do you know?" he asked.

"I’m learning Shakahatche," Danny smiled. "I don’t know it that well, though."

"Did you ask her?" Josh said, feeling like was getting nowhere.

"Oh, yeah," Danny grinned, watching his friend’s discomfiture. "She wouldn’t tell me. She was being a little Coyote with me. Coyote, the trickster, you know."

"Yeah, I remember," Josh sighed. "That was something, too. I don’t know if you know, but John pretty much caved in. Said that Candice had earned her wings, she might as well fly with them. But she’s going to dump the assistant coaching job to spend more time with him, since she figured she’d better give him something."

"I heard that," Danny agreed. "I think Debbie handled that pretty well."

"You know," Josh laughed. "You’ve got yourself one weird girl, but she’s also one cool girl. The way John and Candice had been snapping at each other and sneaking around each other for weeks, well, it was sheer magic."

"Just a little katara wisdom," Danny shook his head. "I’ve seen it in action other times, but that was a pretty good one. Look, Josh, I went around the block a couple times with Debbie over that after we got back to her place Friday night. Basically, she said that kataras are no smarter or wiser than anyone else, it’s just that sometimes they look at things a little differently. I’m starting to realize that. You were right, katara at work. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Damn cool," Josh shook his head. "You’re getting a little spooky yourself sometimes."

"It’s probably rubbing off a little," Danny grinned.

"I’m sure it is," he snorted. "Now will you quit being evasive and tell me what she said to that damn dog?"

"You sure you want to hear this?"

"I’m sure, Danny. I mean, good grief . . . "

"Well, all right," he sighed. "She was being pretty Coyote with me so I was a little Coyote with her. Like I said, I don’t actually know Shakahatche that well but I’m pretty good at remembering phrases. When we were over at Ellen and Ruth’s place at Three Pines on Saturday, well, Debbie and Ellen were outside, so I asked Ruth what it was. She told me. You still sure you want to know?"

"Danny . . . "

"What she said was, ‘Oh, you’d make such a tasty stew.’"

"Stew?" Josh frowned. "Do they actually eat dog over there?"

"I asked Ruth about it," Danny laughed. "She said not normally, but when starving times used to come all bets were off. I don’t think Vandal wanted to bet against it."

Josh ran the Stud along silently for a minute, just thinking. Finally he spoke up, "But, Danny. If Vandal understood it . . . I mean, how could he have? I mean, he was raised on our dog lot, he’s never been to Alaska so he couldn’t have been in any of those Athabaskan villages up there, and as far as I know that’s the first Shaka-whatever-the-hell-it-is he’s ever heard."

"Josh," Danny said slowly, "I told you that you didn’t really want to know what she said. You wheedled me into telling you and you’ve come up with a much harder question as a result. That one I can’t help you with, and that’s probably why Debbie didn’t want to tell me. About all I can tell you is that sometimes it doesn’t have to make sense, it just is."

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