Then he clapped his hands together once, sharply. “Tak!” One of the coyotes lifted its snout and howled. The sound made Mary shudder. “Tak, ah lah! Tak!”
Marinville stepped off the sidewalk and into the street, his long gray hair blowing out and making him look like an Old Testament prophet. The coyotes got to their feet, and the wind brought her the sound of their growls. Marinville had to be hearing them, too, but he went on another step or two nevertheless. He half-closed his eyes for a moment, not as if the sand was bothering them but as if he was trying to remember something. Then he clapped his hands together once, sharply. “Tak!” One of the coyotes lifted its snout and howled. The sound made Mary shudder. “Tak, ah lah! Tak!”
The coyotes appeared to move a little closer together, but that was all.
Marinville clapped his hands again. “Tak! . . . Ah lah . . . Tak! . . . oh, shit on this, I was never any good at foreign languages, anyhow.” He stood looking disgusted and uncertain. That they might attack him—him and his unloaded Mossberg .22—seemed the furthest thing from his mind.
