Authors: Multiple
Chapter Eighteen
I finished eating my share of the huckleberries and continued to
watch him. When he had returned he was no longer nude, but dressed very
traditionally in brown deerskin fringed leggings with a matching loincloth. He
wore beautiful moccasins stitched with dyed porcupine quills in designs that
symbolized lightning. He had given me a similar set, but mine were made of
white buckskin. My hair was neatly braided and he had placed the tail feather
of a golden eagle in the right one so it stood up straight by my ear. He wore
its mate, but a matching one was in his left braid. This was a style we would
wear for certain Medicine Dances, and they made him look as if he had long ears
pushing up.
“What now?” I took a last swallow of water and finished my prayer.
“Pick a Story,” he smiled. “Be a Story.”
“Any Story?” For a moment I wondered about choosing a nice gentle
Story, where no one got hurt. I was surprised I couldn't think of one off hand.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized how apparently rare that sort
of Story was. Even the specific stories for small children often involved ears
getting yanked into rabbit length as punishment, or someone dying to get reborn
as a stalk of corn. Hell, even the Story that the spirits of dead flowers
became the rainbow had to involve the flowers dying.
Long time ago, there lived a poor Native man with his wife and
children. He was a poor hunter and was not always good at providing for his
family. They often went hungry and Taláyi, his oldest son, promised himself
when he grew up he would do his best to feed his People. The boy loved his
father who was a kind and thoughtful man who led a spiritual life, grateful for
all the Creator had given him. He especially felt this way about his family.
One day when the sun rose he helped
Taláyi
put up a lodge for his
Vision Quest. The young man was curious what sort of Spirit Power he would
receive. Eagle? Buffalo? Wolf? Each brought different gifts, but all were
valued. Sometimes seemingly the smallest Power brought the greatest strength.
he two went through a sweat with the other men and then the boy
was truly ready. A medicine man painted him with the red ochre for protection
during his Quest. In the beginning of his Quest he did not sit quietly in
prayer and song the way most would do, but wandered around, intent on the
experience—sensitive to the songs of the birds and insects and carefully
observing the many types of plants. He wondered why some were good medicine and
nourished the body and the soul, and others were poison. He would return to his
lodge before the sun set and easily fall into a dreamless sleep.
Each morning he would sing a prayer song and set forth again,
curious why some plants seem to need human people to grow strong and others did
not. One afternoon he saw a family of deer that reminded him of his own family
and he wished his People did not have to primarily depend upon the Animal
People to survive.
On the fourth day of fasting he felt weak and wondered if he might
even die. He shut his eyes and dreamed of a beautiful youth descending from the
sky. He was dressed in fine beaded clothing, with feathers Taláyi did not
recognize that were tied into the other young man’s hair. He felt attracted to
this stranger who returned his affection.
“The Creator has sent me to you to be your spirit Power. It is
required that I must test you. The Creator has heard your secret prayer that
you have made not for yourself but for all human people. It warms the Creator’s
heart that you seek to better your People rather than seeking power to control
or conquer others. Just so, it is my responsibility to show you how to feed
your People.” He smiled and touched Taláyi gently. “Remember this is always
about ritual and ceremony. To feed the life of another means that a life must
be sacrificed, which is why we are taught to see food as sacred. You must rise
up and wrestle with me.”
Taláyi still felt light-headed and weak from his fasting, but reached
out to the other who drew him into his arms in a way that did not seem to be
the wrestling he had done before. This was far more intimate, where he was
aware of the other’s warmth and the combination of strength and softness in the
body of the sky youth. When Taláyi had finally pinned the other, he tentatively
kissed him and the youth eagerly returned his love. They spent the night
together within the lodge.
The next morning they woke and sang a prayer song to the Creator.
They bathed within a nearby creek and Taláyi admired the other’s nude body
which was smooth and slender. “Once more you must wrestle me,” the youth
whispered in Taláyi’s ear. “This must be done as it must be done.” Then he
kissed Taláyi once more and pulled him close
.
They contended in a loving
way and the day ended with the other being defeated, kissed, and held lovingly
while they both fell asleep. On the morning of the fourth day after he had
arrived, the youth became serious.
“This will be difficult for you, but it must be done. It is all
part of the Cycle.” Taláyi prayed to the Creator for the strength he would need
as his body faded from hunger, but he knew the ceremony would soon be over.
They wrestled once again, and Taláyi drank in the other’s scent and sensuality.
He luxuriated in the feel of the other’s body and how his hair felt against his
bare flesh. “I surrender,” the other said. “You have earned your victory for
you have conquered my heart.” He pulled him back into the lodge and held him
close. “Your time in this lodge is almost over. Your father and the medicine
man will return to break your fast. But before that time you must throw me down
and remove my clothing. You will clean the area of the small plants that grow
here and prepare a bed in the sweet soft soil for me.”
Taláyi only knew how much he loved the other. A single tear rolled
down his cheek. “You must bury my body, covering me with my clothing and then
with the Mother Earth. Then it is time for you to leave me. Do not disturb my
bed. Come and see if I have returned. Keep my grave safe from grass and weeds
that would trouble me. If you do as I say then you will have your wish and your
family and others will be safe from hunger.” Then he kissed him one last time
in a passionate way. “It is time we wrestle once more to complete the ritual.”
Taláyi felt renewed and strong, filled with great power. He pulled
the other to him in almost a dance. He held him close and felt the other’s
energy fill him. The youth from the sky fell against him and no longer
breathed. He grieved for his loss and his tears dampened the other’s clothing
as he stripped him bare and removed the strange and colorful feathers from his
silken hair. Carefully he followed the directions he had been given, praying to
the Creator his love would be returned and the other would live once more.
His father and the medicine man came for him to break his fast and
welcome him back to the everyday world. He ate lightly and the two older men
wondered at his detachment, for he seemed to still be spiritually apart. Taláyi
remained devoted to his lover, coming to the grave site on a regular basis,
watering it with sweet spring water and his tears. To his delight soft green
leaves greeted him and the new plants grew as tall as he was. The more
attention he gave them, the more they responded, just as the youth had.
When he felt the time was right, he asked his father to accompany
him to where his heart was planted. He proudly introduced his father to the
beautiful plants given to him by his spirit Power. They were topped with silken
hair as fine as his lover’s. “He gave up his life for us, so we would not have
to hunt every day to feed ourselves with the Animal People. In exchange for our
care, he will care for us.” He showed his father how to prepare the corn,
explaining how to harvest the ears, and that they should only be placed near
the fire long enough for its protective leaves to crisp so the sweet kernels
would stay juicy. “The first seeds must be saved for the next planting.” They
returned to their community to prepare a feast of the sacred new plant that was
a gift from the Creator and Taláyi’s lover. Each spring, the sky youth would
return to Taláyi’s side.
Chapter Nineteen
“How about a Coyote Story?” I asked.
“Such a compliment,” he smiled, “a Story about me?”
“It wouldn't be a Story about you. Your name is Echo.”
“Echo is one of my names. What is the name in your language for
the Trickster?”
I frowned—after all, we had been speaking in my language. I
had already used Coyote's name several times already. Was this just another
ritual detail, where I had to say something out loud a certain number of times?
I repeated Coyote's name.
“Ah, my little fishy,” he said, “You don't even listen to
yourself, let alone anyone else. What does your word for Coyote really
mean—literally mean?
I thought for a moment—his name just meant Coyote to me, but
when I broke it down I replied, “Imitator. It's because in so many legends
Coyote tries to copy the actions of the other Animal People and every time he does
something goes wrong.” I frowned. “Imitator. One who Copies. Echo.” I stopped
frowning. “So—you're Coyote,” I said with an automatic tone of disbelief.
“Nobody has Coyote Power.”
“That's true. I'd crush a human—none of your kind could
contain me. You'd be a vessel that would burst if I poured myself inside you.
Your Power is Moth.” He looked up and she landed on the stone cup, spreading
out her wings to show off her owl eye spots.
“Does that mean I need to pick a Story that involves Moth?”
“You can tell a Coyote Story that involves death, and that will
honor Moth.” She fluttered her wings in what I assumed was agreement. I thought
about what would be a Story where Coyote was a hero instead of a selfish
trickster or raping a poor woman. Among my father's People there were some
stories about Coyote getting tricked by some of the other Animal People where
he was raped, but I had no desire to live one of those. We had some legends of
Coyote doing drag and marrying a man to punish him for his pride and to end up
enjoying a wedding feast. They ended with Coyote humiliating his new husband in
front of the community. I don't do drag. I settled on one I knew well that I
had learned from Aunt Beans.
Chapter Twenty
“I was going there,” I began. There were so many ways I could go.
I looked at Echo--Imitator-- and he had turned into a young boy. He continued
to shapeshift, taking on the form of a half-human, half-rabbit being, but one
with a long bushy tail that would have looked right at home on the ass of a squirrel.
He obviously knew this Story as well.
“Grandson,” I said, trying not to laugh, since I would be playing
the role of a grandparent. I suppose it wasn't much of a stretch to go from
faux Coyote to faux Elder. This was supposed to be all about learning. “You
must never go into the woods because a terrible monster lives there who kills
people by swallowing them. You must promise me you will play nearby and not go
into the woods.” I looked at him and thought the same thing as I always did
when I heard this Story. The minute you tell anybody “Don't do X,” they
immediately want to do “X.” In fact, they probably would never have considered
doing “X” until you told them not to do it.
He nodded and then began to play. I returned to our lodge and
wondered how long I should wait. In the legend, Coyote's grandson immediately
ran off to look for the monster,
At'at-kleyah,
and was summarily
swallowed. I looked around for the five flint knives mentioned in the legend
that Coyote carried with him. The legend also instructed me to make a great
rope of twisted cedar bark, which was initially a lot more involved than I had
anticipated. I got frustrated, then announced to the rope, “I, Coyote, command
you to become long and mighty.” Like the special effects in a big budget movie,
the small rope I had made shimmered and then stabilized in exactly the size and
form I had always imagined whenever I had heard the legend. I wrapped it around
my waist the way the other legend had Coyote wrapping his original penis. I put
the fire-making set into my belt pouch and figured I was ready to get the party
started.
I followed Rabbit's tracks easily. The legend ended without Coyote
or Rabbit returning home, so I didn't bother to pay that much attention to
memorizing my way back to the lodge. I eventually came to an enormous cedar
tree that looked a lot like the one that had told me the story of Black Wolf
and tied myself securely to its trunk with the rope. “
At'at-kleyah
!” I
yelled at the top of my voice, “
At'at-kleyah
! I bet you can't swallow
me!”
On cue, I felt a stirring from deeper within the forest, a
distinct sense of someone being majorly pissed. Let's see, how many
supernatural beings have I managed to upset in the last 24 hours? A sudden wind
picked up which I assumed was her breathing out before she started swallowing.
I tensed myself. The monster began to suck so hard, all the small branches and
leaves were stripped from the tree, but the rope that secured me held firm. I
laughed and repeated, “
At'at-kleyah, At'at-kleyah
! I told you that you
couldn't swallow me!”
The area around me rustled and she sucked so hard all the larger
branches of the tree were broken off and swallowed, I was glad my braids were
solidly pinned behind my back and the trunk, or they would be horizontal right
now. I thought about the eagle feather in my hair but figured it was enchanted
to stay in place. I wish I had that power in everyday life. Things became
peaceful again. I yelled, “
At'at-kleyah
,
At'at-kleyah
! They told
me you were tough! And I told them that you'd never swallow me!” The forest
went completely silent. She sucked so hard all the largest of the branches were
broken off and promptly swallowed. My rope held me tight.
I braced myself—this would be the big one. “
At'at-kleyah
,
At'at-kleyah
! You're nothing! You can never swallow Coyote!” The quality
of silence shifted to
Silence
. It was as if every creature everywhere
was holding its breath. Then
At'at-kleyah
began to suck harder than she
had ever sucked in her life. She sucked so hard the whole cedar tree was pulled
out by its roots and the monster swallowed it and me at the same time. I
slipped free of the rope, but everything was black around me. I took out the
fire-starter kit and sparked it enough to start my cedar rope burning. As I
expected, there were bones beneath my feet in every direction. I looked up and
sure enough, saw someone “as thin as a shadow.” I couldn't tell what sort of
Animal Person this was, or even the gender. The Person was, as we say back
home, “pretty rugged.”
“What's wrong?” I asked.
“We are inside the belly of the monster, Coyote. All around you
are the bones of people she has killed by swallowing them. There is nothing to
eat here, and so we eventually starve to death.” That was a line I knew.
“What is this stuff?” I pointed to great sack like globs of a
shiny white-yellow substance.
“Oh, Coyote,” said the Shadow-thin, “That's the monster's
insides—its fat. We would never want to eat that!”
“Listen carefully,” I told the Shadow-thin, staying on script. “
At'at-kleyah
has killed too many people. I am going to kill her. When I do, she will open
her mouth to give her death cry. When that happens, even the ones who have been
dead for years will come back to life. All of her orifices will be open. People
will only have a short time to run out of her before she closes up tight. It
nodded at me, and I pulled one of the knives made of flint from my belt pouch
and looked high above me where her great heart was beating. I needed a
stepladder. Actually, I needed a fire truck built to service skyscrapers. I
just knew from the original legend, Coyote jumped up and grabbed hold of
At'at-kleyah
's
heart.
What the hell. I put all my strength into my jump and to my
delight, I just kept going up. Coyote could really do the “leaps tall buildings
in a single bound” bit that was being told about for hundreds of years before
there were any tall buildings to leap. I could see the usefulness of
“supervised practice” because I almost overshot the heart but managed to hook
my right foot around its stem and grabbed on to it tightly. I positioned myself
as securely as I could. I began to hack at the heart with the first flint
knife.
At'at-kleyah
twitched as the flint knife bit into her. My first
knife broke. I let the fragments drop and pulled out the second to renew my
attack. I was nearly pitched off the heart from her reaction. That one broke
and I pulled out my third.
I held on tight and continued the slice and dice. She must have
jerked up this time rather than back and forth, but I had a death (hah) grip
and kept up my work until the third shattered and I pulled out the fourth. I
kept up the sawing and it now felt as if she were turning in circles or
spiraling down. As foretold, the fourth knife of flint shattered and I pulled
out my last one. As her body thrashed violently, I cut the last of her heart
away. I then felt like a cartoon Coyote by realizing I had just cut off what
was holding me up. There was a moment of fear and then I plummeted down.
All sounds were drowned out by her death scream, so I couldn't
hear what bodies coming back alive sounded like. I fell heavily, but with
little damage. I guess I now had a tougher body. The Shadow-thin was standing
close by, directing the reviving others towards the monster's huge mouth and
freedom. I looked around for Rabbit, but I already knew where I would find him.
I hustled forward as many as I could, jumping over her great teeth and stood
with the increasingly large group of survivors on the ground in front of the
monster.
“Rabbit!” I yelled—and waited for him to appear. Her mouth
was starting to close. “Hurry, Rabbit, hurry!” I saw him in the distance,
running for the mouth that was about to shut forever. I held out my arms and he
leapt, just as
At'at-kleyah
's jaw slammed down. He wasn't quite fast
enough and the monster bit off most of his fine bushy tail as her last act,
leaving him only a very familiar bunny bush of a tail. He looked up at me from
the ground where he had landed.
I considered my options. I knew on the opposite side of the monster a similar
thing had happened to Muskrat who was taking the rear exit. If the Story was
going as planned, Muskrat's impressively fluffy tail had been trapped inside
her as death closed off that orifice as well. His friends should be helping
pull him out, and the action would effectively strip all the fur off of his
tail which is why it is hairless to this day. I didn't feel it was necessary
for me to see all of the details.
I looked expectantly at Rabbit. As far as I knew, the Story was
finished. “
Ana Chush Nai
,” I said ritualistically--”The Story Is Over.”
He smiled his wererabbit grin and jumped into my arms. I held him crushed
fondly against my chest. He moved his head and began to force his tongue into
my mouth. Disgusted I pulled back, but I was off-balance and he was returning
to his earlier size and shape, while never once slowing down from ravaging me.
I fell on my back and he was on top of me, his strong large hands wrapped
around my wrists, which he pulled above my head.
I twisted around and where the monster's body had been I could
only see a rocky valley. Echo nibbled on my earlobe and I automatically
laughed. We were now back in the in-between space. It currently seemed more of
a glade, but it felt more peaceful. Or maybe it was just because my flesh
hadn't just been scrapped off and then reconstituted with baked clay. Echo
passed me the stone cup and I gratefully drank down the cool water it held.
Monster slaying took a lot of out of you.
“What happens now?” I handed the cup back to him.
“I plan to rut like a rabbit,” he grinned. “I can't think of a
better way to celebrate. And he did.
“Life is aligning,” he told me. “If you pay attention, you can
sense the Everyday World and the Spiritual World coming together. You have
accomplished what you needed to do.”
“So I can go home?”
“Yes, Dorothy. It's almost time for heel clicking. You know enough
from your other Songs how to
Call
Moth when you have need to return to
the in-between space and then move to the Spiritual World.”
“What about you?”
“Will you miss me, little fishy? You do understand Moth is now
your new Spirit Power, not me. I am no one's Spirit Power. I have other duties.
There are others that need initiation. The number of your Native people I see has
continued to drop, but in some other communities the initiated are increasing
in number. I keep busy. I will always have special fondness for you.”
“Do you have sex with all of them?”
“Jealous? Envious? No, my little fishy. It's one of the reasons I
have enjoyed my time with you so. I had forgotten how much fun some individuals
like you can be.” He kissed me and when I opened my eyes I was by the creek
that bordered Uncle Feeney's property. I held the yew staff (or one of them) on
my lap. My body ached. I said a prayer, thanking the Creator for my safe
return.
I headed back for the pig farm, not knowing what to expect.
Eventually I saw my uncle, a kerosene lantern casting him in its harsh light as
he stood waiting for me on the porch. I wondered how much he remembered of his
role, or if a part of him had really there at all.
“You did well, Boy,” he said. His body language was saying
something else. “You sure have your own style. Let's hope the Spirit People can
survive you.” OK, so I guess he had been around for at least part of it. “I'm
sorry, Boy. This should be a time to celebrate, but I just got word your
brother has died—drowned. Turns out he was born with a heart defect and
when he went swimming in the River, he was lost. They had to drag the bottom
for his body.”
“Which one?” I knew. I always felt his heart wasn't quite right. I
stopped myself. Being angry at him for dying wasn't the most useful reaction. I
would have time to grieve.
“The One Who Would Bury,” he said, changing the verb form to
indicate he would not be burying anyone. How awful it would be if they had
never recovered the body of One Who Buries. I wouldn't even know how to
interpret that. I wasn't as close to Scorpio as I was some of my other
siblings, but he would leave a painfully large emptiness in our family.