Naomi Gonzales

December 7, 2009

From Scrap to Fact

            The origin and creation of the story Coyote comes from a number of different stories and books surrounding the native American myth of the coyote trickster god. Coyote has always been one of my favorite characters in myth and writing a story involving him seemed the next appropriate step. This story had been in my head for a while, with an ever-changing cast of characters. It began as a man walking through the desert praying to Coyote for a baby, and then turned into the story of a young misbehaving coyote pup who is sent to the human world as punishment, and somehow turned into a couple who wanted a child. Once the basic premise was devised, the details seemed to fall into place.

            For the fiction workshop in class, Coyote was presented as an 8-page beginning to a longer story. Over the next hour or so, my peers critiqued my work and through the workshop, I was given some additional ideas to improve my story. Many of the responses were positive and addressed my work as a whole, which definitely boosted my confidence. Some of them even expressed a genuine appreciation for the mythical aspect of it. . Other responses leaned more towards the grammatical and narrative aspect of the work, and while these were difficult to receive at first, I found that they were the most helpful. This workshop was the first experience I have had in sharing my work, and as an author, I feel that it was an incredible learning experience. My work was received more warmly than I had anticipated, and because of this, I feel that the criticism I received was given out of genuine interest.

            Even though it was received fairly well, many of my peers offered suggestions to improve my story. In the workshop, most people agreed that after the line “The coyote waited”, there should be some sort of break similar to the one later in the story. Because of the consensus, I added a starred break in my revision. Many people also commented on the personality of Leah; some said that she was too harsh and in one written comment she is even referred to as “bitchy”. Although I wanted Leah’s temper to come across, I did not want to make her seem unapproachable. To remedy this, I went through and gave Leah some additional softness and a few moments of tenderness with Caleb. People also felt that having the coyote pup change in the middle of Leah’s tirade seemed too generous and suggested making her suffer a short while longer. I agreed somewhat with this and created a scene in which Leah’s temper abates and she reaches out to Caleb and even the pup. Several people also suggested slowing the pace of the scene in which Caleb makes the offering to Coyote so I added in a few sentences that made Caleb’s movements more deliberate and less rushed. I think that this part could probably be revised again, but at a later time when I am able to distance myself a bit from the work. Listening to my peers discuss the relationship between Leah and Caleb also made me realize that without a back story, these two characters did not seem to belong with one another at all. I think that by adding the additional scenes of softness with Leah, the reader is able to see a little bit of what Caleb loves in her. I wanted to make the distinction between the two personalities without making them so far apart that the relationship seemed absurd. Also by adding a line about Leah’s “white Nikes” flashing in the desert to contrast Caleb’s sandals, I think that the distinction was efficiently created without too much separation. I think this is something that I will probably have to continue to work on. I also tried to tie imagery that I used once or twice, throughout the whole story to create a sense of unity.

            Despite all the really good suggestions, there were some that I had to resist. Many people felt that tying the vibration that Caleb felt with Coyote to the coyote pup he was given would be a good idea. At first, I thought so too; after a while, however, the more I thought about it the less appealing it seemed. I liked the idea of Caleb going into the desert and having this really profound experience with a deity, and then waking up and not being 100% sure if it really happened. The encounter does not last long and this adds to Caleb’s experience. Even though the pup transforms in front of their eyes, the whole thing could eventually be chalked up to some crazy desert heat hallucination. By using the vibration theme, the pup becomes more than just a pup, which is not at all what I need for the story for that moment. The vibration also works because Coyote is a god; the coyote pup is just a normal pup, not a deity. Another suggestion that I resisted was to hint at the gender of the pup before the transformation scene. I am not particularly keen on this idea but I do see the useful application of it. It has not been reworked into the story, not because I do not like it, but because I would like it to come in a time that sounds organic to the story and not like I am planting it for information. Perhaps in a future revision of the story, the opportunity will arise.

            For all of my creative energy, I have never been able to finish a story. I have discovered that I am quite good at generating ideas and writing a few pages on them, but rarely am I able to finish the work. This story, however, feels different. By preparing for the in-class workshop, I had to answer questions about my story and create a future for these characters. This has given me something of a skeleton outline to work with and hopefully in the not too distant future this story will be finished. At some point, I would also like to submit this to The Marrow here at University of Houston - Clear Lake and, depending on the final product, maybe even a publisher. I have never felt that my work is quite good enough to be published anywhere, but having my work reviewed by my peers and being received so well has given me a sense of confidence.

            (original version)

Coyote

The hot, dry wind swirled through the sand and dirt and the sun warmed all that it touched. Cactus raised their arms to the sky in silent praise, at the same time offering the sanctuary of shade. A ridge of mountains guarded the desert; red fingers fiercely gripped red stone as a testament to their unwavering rule and longevity. The heat baptized the desert, making the ground shimmer and dance.

Through the wavering rays, a form appeared. The coyote stood still, ears perked and nose searching the air. After a moment, it loped in the direction of the mountains and stopped at an outcropping of rocks. The result of a rockslide, the reddish boulders lay about in disarray but the coyote searched for a specific stone. He stopped in the midst of the boulders—in front of one that was flat enough for him to leap onto and sit atop, his tawny tail curled slightly around his large paws.

To many, the desert seemed barren. But the coyote knew better; he had seen generations of human life move through his lands and when the humans were gone, the smaller beasts thrived. Recently, however, the coyote had seen fewer and fewer humans wandering among the red rocks and the ones he had seen were pale and soft; they bore no resemblance to the men who ran like his brethren. Things were changing, everyone could sense it—the ravens noticed it first, and slowly they all caught on but they did not fear. There was nothing to fear—time would pass, generations would give way to new generations, but the desert and its makers would remain.

The coyote waited.

            About a mile south, a couple walked towards the mountains. The man walked confidently and with purpose, the sand and dirt crunched under his sandals and he shouldered a leather knapsack. His walk was not hurried but he seemed intent on getting to his destination. The woman--his wife--walked with less enthusiasm. Her wide face was creased with worry and her fingers ran through her loose black hair nervously.

            “I don’t understand why we have to do this,” the woman said, a hint of anger evident in her voice. “It’s ridiculous to think that this will even work.”

            The man grabbed her hand without stopping his brisk walk; the rich brown of their skins met and became indistinguishable from one another. “We have to try. It’s all that’s left.”

            Her face softened and she struggled to match his pace, “I know. I just don’t think it’ll work. No good can come of it. He’s unreliable.”

            At this, the man stopped short. “Why would you say such things! And in His lands! You would do well to apologize.”

            “Apologize?” She scoffed, her momentary softness gone and she tore her hand from his. “Apologize to whom? To a god who may not even exist? To a myth? A legend; a character from stories of a culture that has all but been forgotten?”

            “Leah,” he pleaded. “You’ll make Him angry.”

            “Leah! We don’t even have Shoshone names anymore, and you still cling to a fairy tale. We need science; we need medicine—that’s where we’ll find our answer. Not out here in the desert. It’s as barren as we are.” Leah laughed harshly.

            Her husband said nothing.

            “Since you’re so set on this whole thing, you go. I’ll just sit right here and wait.” She looked around for something to sit on, and realizing there was nothing, she crossed her arms and stood. 

            Without saying a word, her husband continued walking toward the red ridges, this time with less enthusiasm. Leah watched him go and, despite her defiance, her face was marked with concern.

            The man walked toward the mountain, his walk less confident than before but still maintaining it’s purposeful stride. Nearing the stern fingers, he removed his knapsack and held it carefully in his hands. He could see the scattered boulders and stones and could make out a shape sitting atop a particularly large boulder. His pulse quickened, and even though the sun still blazed hotly, he felt a slight chill.

            He moved closer and closer. The shape did not move. Finally, after what seemed a lifetime of crossing the desert, he reached the seated form. The coyote stared at him evenly—wild, honey colored eyes boring into human, dark ones.

            For a moment, all that could be heard was the slight rustle of the wind through the dirt. And then—

            “What is your name?”

            The coyote did not open its mouth to speak, but the man heard the question. The ancient voice sounded through his body and reverberated in his bones, the vibrations forming words. The man struggled not to show his surprise and the growing fear in the pit of his belly. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and spoke resoundingly.

            “Caleb.”

            “Caleb.” The coyote repeated the name, and Caleb felt the difference. “Are you not of the Shoshone tribe, wanderer of the desert? Your name is foreign to my tongue.”

            Caleb’s brown skin blushed red in shame. “My people have abandoned the old ways. We’ve been taught to forget our ancestors. The Shoshone language has been lost.”

            “I see. And yet you are here. You sought me out, that much is apparent by my presence. You have not forgotten Coyote.”

            Caleb felt a wave of relief wash over him; so this really was Coyote, the trickster god of his people. The Utah sun hadn’t been playing with his mind.

            “You have found me Caleb of the Shoshone tribe. What else do you seek?” Coyote’s voice resounded through Caleb.

            Caleb took a moment to think. Coyote was a maker, a very old god and most certainly not one to be trifled with. He’s also a friend to man, thought Caleb. If the myths are true, why else would He steal fire? But still…a god is a god. And Coyote is a trickster.

            Coyote’s tail twitched almost imperceptibly but Caleb’s keen eye noticed. He knew that he was running out of time. The longer he took, the smaller his window of opportunity would get and the chance of Coyote disappearing altogether would grow. If he didn’t do something now, he would lose his nerve.

            He quickly opened his knapsack and pulled out a package wrapped in butcher paper. Caleb locked eyes with Coyote and slowly, reverently, walked over to the where the god sat. He unwrapped the bundle to reveal a large skinned rabbit, washed clean. After laying the meat in front of Coyote, he carefully removed and unwrapped a second package containing another skinned rabbit and laid it down next to the first.

            “Coyote, creator of man, please accept my offering.”

            From atop the boulder, Coyote peered down at his gift. The black nostrils of his nose widened as he took in the scent. For a moment, he said nothing, nor moved. Then his wild eyes met Caleb’s.

            “Your offering is accepted. You may ask of me one thing. Make your request wisely.”

            Caleb inhaled deeply. He forced every uncertainty and hint of fear out of his conscious; he wanted to give Coyote no reason to trick him.

            “I want a child. My wife and I are barren. All we want is a child.”  Caleb tried his best to keep his voice strong and unwavering but even his own ears could detect a slight hint of desperation. He knew that Coyote heard it too, and his heart thudded loudly.

            Sure enough, the canid’s eyes sparkled like crystalline honey and his maw spread into a grin. “Of course, Caleb. Of course I will give you a child.” Coyote leaned forward and breathed onto Caleb’s head.

            Caleb felt the world around him lose shape and substance, and then everything went black.

* * *

            The desert floated back into focus. Caleb came to, one sense at a time. He felt the sand rub against his skin and the dry wind carried the faint scent of desert juniper. His mouth was dry and his tongue tasted like cotton. He heard a small scratching noise and something that sounded like a whimper. Slowly, his eyes opened against the bright sun; for a moment, he was blind. Everything shone white but as he blinked, he began to make out the dark shapes around him: boulders, mountain, cactus. He sat up, having forgotten how he ended up laying on the ground. Caleb caught sight of the empty butcher paper at the base of a boulder, about half a foot from where he sat, and suddenly everything rushed back. He glanced around frantically, but he was alone. The grief and disappointment were overwhelming.

            Caleb buried his face into his arms, embarrassed by his boyish eagerness. Leah was right, he was nothing more than a fool. Leah. How would he explain to Leah what had happened? He had no idea how long he had been away from her; surely she had worried and then became angry, as her mercurial temper was prone to do. He hadn’t wanted to turn to medicine, to science, to solve their problem. He wanted to return to the ways of his people, of their people. He had hoped that Coyote would be the answer. He didn’t want to accept that he was wrong, but the fact remained as obvious as the sun.

            Caleb sighed resignedly and dusted his palms off on his legs. As he stood to go, he heard a whimper. The first whimper had been lost in the daze of his effort to return to consciousness but, like his encounter with Coyote, it returned to his memory. He stood still, waiting to hear it again.

            There. Louder, more insistent.

            He quietly crept towards the direction of the plea. And then he saw it; a small tawny colored ball of fur, no bigger than his two hands. His pulse quickened. Surely, surely he was mistaken.

            “Hey there,” Caleb whispered.

            The small shape moved, and a face appeared amid the downy fluff. Two amber eyes stared at him from behind a small black nose.

            Caleb was at a loss. Coyote had tricked him. He has asked for a child and Coyote had given him one: a coyote pup. The trick was so obvious that he was surprised he didn’t see it coming.

            What to do… Caleb thought, watching the pup try to stand unsteadily. There was nothing he could do, he decided. He had to take the pup. Leaving it to fend for itself in the desert would be unthinkable, and would probably incur the wrath of Coyote. Yes, he thought. It’s best I just take it with me. Although I don’t know what I’ll tell Leah.

            He reached for the pup and ignored its whimpers and wriggles of protest. He contemplated putting it in the knapsack, but thought better of it. Holding the pup with one hand, he slung the empty bag over his shoulder and then held the pup in the crook of his arm, supporting it with the other hand. It stopped whimpering and snuggled into him, its small black nose peeking over his arm.

            The walk back to Leah seemed shorter. She stood beneath an enormous cactus, taking refuge in the shade but scowling at the landscape around her. She caught sight of him.

            “Finally! You’ve been gone for hours.” She smiled sarcastically, “And with no child, I see. I guess Coyote had more important things to do.”

            “Leah--”

            “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it. I just want to go home.” She started moving the direction they came when he stopped her.

            “Leah. I met Him.”

            She stopped and turned slowly. “What?”

            “Coyote. I met Him.” Caleb swallowed nervously. “Leah,” he hesitated. “Leah, He tricked me.”

            She laughed but quickly stopped when she saw his face. “Wait, you’re serious?” For the first time Leah noticed that he held something in his arms. “What is that?”

            “A child.” Caleb held out his hands, showing her the coyote pup.

            “A coyote? Really Caleb? That’s the best you could do? That’s great, but I want a human child. Not a dog. What the hell are we supposed to do with that?” She was angry, her brown skin tinged red.

            “We keep it.” He replied simply. “I know it’s not what you want but we have to keep it. It was a gift. We should be grateful for what Coyote gave us; I’m sure it meant something. To have patience, maybe.” Caleb felt helpless, and shamed. The pup began to wriggle again so he set it on the ground.

            “Well that’s fantastic,” Leah began sarcastically. “I’m so glad we hiked all the way out here so some ancient deity could give us a puppy that’s symbolic of patience. I’m--”

            She stopped, mid-tirade. Caleb winced, waiting for the anger to return. There was none; instead Leah was staring at the ground with her mouth agape. Caleb followed her stare.

            The coyote pup was changing. Before the couple’s eyes, its fur receded everywhere except its crown, exposing pale skin. The joints in its forelegs shifted slightly, and its paws elongated and split into fingers, the sharp nails flattened into translucent keratin. The joint in the hind legs also shifted, the paws lengthened into small feet with small toes. The bushy tail disappeared, and the body grew into the torso of a toddler. The face flattened, forming a human nose and the skull rounded. The ears were the last to change; pointed and wide they shrunk and moved against the skull, the intricate curves wound their way until completed.

            Caleb and Leah were no longer staring at a coyote pup; they were staring at a little girl, no more than a year, curled into a fetal position on the sand.

            Hesitantly, Leah reached out to her. She gingerly touched the girl’s shoulder, and then caressed her short sandy colored hair. The girl stirred and Leah drew her hand back.

            “Caleb…” Leah whispered, stunned.

            Caleb, too, was shocked, but it felt right. It felt like Coyote’s work.

            “Pick her up.” He told his wife.

            Without being told twice, Leah scooped up the baby and held her close.

            The girl’s eyes opened.

            They were still amber.