I used to write silly stories for the newspaper when I was in high school and college. However, that was a long time ago. In my current work, I often write stories about people caught in conflict. However, they are called legal briefs. About a year ago, I had the idea to do a Rick Riordan crossover story. I am a huge fan of Rick Riordan's Tres Navarre books, while my daughter Stephanie has enjoyed his mythology books since she was in middle school. Quite frankly, I missed Tres Navarre, Tai Chi master and unlicensed private investigator and wanted to hear from him again. I started work on this tale and then got stuck and set it aside for a long time. Now I have written enough to where I think I can release a chapter a week until the story is concluded. Here is chapter one.
Chapter 1: A Day Without Cabrito
It had been an uneventful day for Tai Chi master and unlicensed private investigator Tres Navarre. He had spent the afternoon at UTSA teaching a class on Medieval English literature as a way to pay the bills until the investigating business picked up again. Uneventful could mean more than one thing for Tres. In this case, it meant that his students were sort of prepared and occasionally looked up from their iPhones when he asked a question. It also meant that no one had taken a shot at him or tried to blow him up.
As he drove towards Los Barrios in Alamo Heights, he hoped to relax with a beer and a plate of cabrito as he planned his next lesson on Julian of Norwich. However, when he placed the order, his waiter gave a panicked look and ran back into the kitchen. More than a few moments later, Chef Diana Barrios-Trevino emerged. One look into her troubled brown eyes told him that she was deeply unsettled.
“Tres,” she said breathlessly, “it is an evil thing. There is no cabrito on the menu tonight for the first time in thirty years because there are no goats to be had.”
“Why?” said Tres. “I thought that goat flu was just a rumor that someone cooked up on the internet.”
“Goat flu was just a rumor,” she replied. “This is something far worse. The thing that comes in the night is back.”
“You mean the –“ Tres began.
“Do not say it,” she said. “Even to name it is to invite unspeakable terror.” Then her face lightened and she said, “But the Tacos a la Diana are pretty good tonight.”
After his consolation prize of a dinner, which was, as Chef Diana had predicted, pretty good, he returned to his apartment and tried to still his mind with a series of Tai Chi poses. However, he could not find his center as his mind returned again and again to the fear behind Diana’s troubled eyes. He drove downtown and descended to the level of the River Walk. He often paced the River Walk late at night when he needed to work things out.
As he strolled along, he noticed a disturbance in the usually placid waters. A human figure broke the surface, his face turned upward.
“Hey, are you all right?” Tres asked with equal parts wonder and concern.
“Fine” came the reply. “Just doing the back stroke.”
“Uh, you do know that there is no swimming in the river, don’t you?” Tres replied. “It’s okay. I’m a demi-god,” said the swimming figure.
“Wait a minute,” said Tres. “Aren’t you Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon? Shouldn’t you be out doing Olympian things instead of violating local city ordinances?”
“There is a mythology conference at the Palacio del Rio. The San Antonio River is less crowded this time of night than the hotel pool. It gets pretty noisy when you have a bunch of middle school mythology geeks doing cannonballs in the pool. Also, I was sent to give you a message: Beware the Chupacabra.”
With that, Percy swam off. A chorus of fish followed him singing, “swim, swim, swim.”
“Wait. Come back,” protested Tres. “How does this information help me?”
“Excuse me, sir, I think I may be able to help,” said a small voice from the shadows.
Tres turned around and noticed a young boy with tousled hair and a shy smile. “What is this? Unaccompanied minors on the River Walk night,” he sputtered. Inside he was more than a little annoyed. Letting people sneak up on you in the dark can get you killed when you are an unlicensed private investigator. The fact that a boy of ten had gotten the drop on him only made it worse.
“I am sorry to bother you,” said the boy. “I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation with Percy Jackson and I have an idea that might work. My name is Felix. You may know me from the Kane Chronicles.“
“Sorry kid, I don’t read children’s books.”
“You would be surprised,” Felix said. “Mythology taps archetypes that recur throughout Western literature. Beyond that, you would be surprised how many of the old stories have a basis in reality. Why, back in The Throne of Fire . . . .”
"All right,” said Tres. “You made your point. Besides that, I lied. I do like childrens’ literature, particularly the Harry Potter books. How do you think Big Red Tequila stacks up against your books?”
“Oh, I am sorry sir. My parents won’t let me read your books until I’m twelve. Too much bad content.”
“All right, all right already. You said you could help.”
“I think I know the answer,” said Felix. “Penguins.”
“What???” Tres fumed. “Go back to whatever home for disturbed children that you escaped from and leave me alone. I have a serious mystery to solve.”
Felix sighed. “I get that a lot from my friends. Most people don’t appreciate the understated majesty and the sublime power of the penguin. Why, in The Serpent’s Shadow, I conjured an up army of shabti penguins from mashed potatoes. Did my friends think that was a good idea? No. It’s always, ‘Felix, enough with the penguins’ or ‘Felix we don’t want to hear any more about penguins.’”
“Do you know what a chupacabra is?” asked Tres. Do you know about the claws that tear and the teeth that shred? Besides, where are we going to find penguins in San Antonio, Texas?”
“Penguins can be quite resourceful,” said Felix. “Why I once used penguins to peck away at evil magicians enased in snowmen. Now, as to where to find penguins, that’s easy. Sea World.”
“And I suppose you’re just going to walk through the front gate and march out with an army of penguins?”
“Don’t be silly. I have a key to the back gate. However, what I don’t have is a driver’s license. If you can drive me to Sea World, I can help you.”
This did not thrill Tres. It was close to midnight, he had a class to teach the next day and Sea World was way out on the northwest side of town. Trying to avoid a long and pointless night, he asked,
“Won’t your parents notice that you aren’t in bed?”
“No,” said Felix. “I told them that I was going to a lock-in at the Witte Museum. They won’t expect me back until morning.”
Without a better excuse, Tres relented and walked Felix to his pickup truck. As he drove across the darkened city, Felix babbled incessantly about whether there was an ice god and how shoes and basketballs could be used as weapons. Tres’s mood darkened as he thought about how he would explain the presence of an unrelated young boy in his pickup truck so late at night if stopped by the police.
Disclaimer: Tres Navarre, Ralph Arguello, Percy Jackson and Felix are all characters created by Rick Riordan and belong to him. This story is intended to be a fair use under the United States copyright laws. All original content is copyright 2015 by Stephen Sather.
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