Dancing Backwards Date Tuesday, April 23, 2024 - 11:14 PM PST Topic Religion Grandfather wore the sunrise, all bright and brilliant hues. He also wore his sandals, which had walked the stars and winds…but also unfortunately showed that his nails needed a clippin’ something fierce. Coyote wore himself a three-piece suit and a bowler tipped to a jaunty angle, half to the left, just enough to show a feather or two. Grandfather sat on his big old chair, made from world-tree wood, and tapped his foot on a stool made from good intentions. Coyote just paced back and forth, sucking down one cigarette after another, rolling the tobacco around the hall. “They aren’t doing too good.” Grandfather said, his voice a wave of thunder and cinnamon whispers. Coyote just shrugged and smiled three miles wide, “They ain’t been made to be good pops, they ain’t been made that way.” Grandfather loomed and looked down at the wild-eyed youth. “Disobedient, ill tempered, blind and mean hearted.” Coyote gave him a grimace then pointed out not too discreetly, “Yeah, that they are…they can be fucking bratty.” Grandfather sighed as he admonished his son, “Profanity…watch it.” Coyote rolled his eyes as he continued, “Yeah, yeah, anyway…so they’re bad. You made ‘em that way.” Grandfather shook his great head, and the sun swirled around him, “I made them capable of all things.” Coyote laughed, “Can’t give a kid a knife and not expect the little fucker to stab things with it.” Grandfather raised an eyebrow, and somewhere a star cringed. Coyote managed to look suitably unimpressed. Grandfather raised his hand as he spoke, “I made them capable of all things, yet they create only ugliness.” Coyote flipped a new smoke and lit it with a flame he had borrowed from cousin Magpie and muttered, “Brother toad is ugly as pigshit pops, and come to think of it, Mama Sow ain’t that much of a looker anyhow, ‘less your into six tits and a hell of a lot of ham.” Grandfather turned the color of the northern lights, but Coyote went on…and on. “Sure they’re ugly, but don’t place all the blame on them…if ugliness is all they create, then so to have you created nuttin’ but ugliness ye’ see…the flaws o’ the maker are made apparent in his work, or some such.” Grandfather scowled, “You are being obnoxious, not to mention blasphemous.” The traveler grinned, “You know, I learned it from them I did…a lot of good stuff I learnt from them, hell, you could learn from ‘em boss.” Grandfather was silent for a moment, then nearly roared with the voice of a waterfall, “They pervert and change what I have wrought, they destroy and defile, and the only reason they haven’t killed all of your brothers, sisters and cousins already is because they’re still busy trying to kill each other!” Coyote had to nod at that, but then pointed out, “Yeah, that’s true…very true. But here’s the thing pops…they change shit, they’re a fiery sort of change sometimes…but you don’t see sister Raccoon up and hunting Cousin Elk, and you sure as hell don’t see Cousin Elk pilfering shiny things, my sunglasses being a good example. They’re change pops, bad or good…it’s a wild sort of thing.” Grandfather would not be swayed, “They change what I create only into nastiness and filth.” The highway robber swayed a bit as paced, and gesticulated wildly, “Not so pops…not the hell so.” Grandfather raised his other eyebrow at this, his most outspoken and troublesome child, of course Coyote continued. “Ever see on of them drink the wind? I mean…it’s fucking sweet pops, every so often, one of them leans back and just takes a big drink of the wind. ‘Course sometimes they come up coughin’ and sometimes they send a nasty wind right back out…but ah! Have you ever wondered what that was like? You didn’ make wind to be drunk pops…you made it to blow, waters for drinking, but they went and found a way anyways! Hows that!” Grandfather rapped his fingers as he thought that over, after the lady moon had risen twice over he argued again, “But they breed to much, always making more even though they don’t like each other much.” Coyote let out a sing-song sort of laugh, “You ever fucked before pops?” Grandfather was struck slightly aghast. Coyote danced in a circle, “Seriously! Do you know what it’s like? It’s amazing pops…it can either be the most hideous and cruel of things, or it can be so sublime, all the stuff you made goes away…yeah, you heard me, goes the hell away, if only for a moment.” Grandfather just stared at his son, wondering what the hell he was getting at, and secretly unsure if even this, his most audacious brat was about to go further than he really should. Coyote of course, did. “I know your curious pops…you made a couple sons of of ‘em, hell you made a couple daughters too, and fine looking things they are, but you ain’t ever fucked one…you just did that spacey I am what I am crap and poof! No fun pops, no wonder they all grew up kinda’ strange. I mean hell, you snapped your fingers to cook me and my kin up…but you ain’t never bred. You made yourself one fine ass bowl of wheaties here Gramps, with strawberries, milk, a slice a banana and some toast with jam on the side…but you ain’t taken a bite out of yet have ya’? You just sort of sit back and watch it.” Grandfather fell silent. Coyote had his angle and worked it like a hit man, “It’s just sittin’ there…curdlin’ and turning to something else pops, just like you made it to. What I’m wondering is, when the hell are you going to go down and take a damn bite. A lot of us have gone for seconds and thirds! Sometimes it’s bitter, sometimes it sweet…but it’s always something, even if it’s nothing.” Grandfather turned his eyes away as his son ranted on, “ ‘Sides, you ain’t known the stuff you created pops…you don’t know fear, you don’t know fuck, and you don’t know loss…and I tell ya’ boss, loss makes gain that much brighter.” Grandfather sighed deeply, and stroked his beard made of pine needles and earth. Coyote stopped pacing and looked up at him with shining too-bright eyes. “C’mon pops, go take a bite…me and the kids’ll keep the place up while your out, you know you need a vacation.” Hours passed, and three days in a second all at once as Grandfather thought this one over. His child had a point, although he was raw, profane and uncouth…yet those same attributes that made him so bad, he took such pride in. After eternity and a moment, he made his decision and rose slowly. “It seems to me, that though you are rude…and blasphemous,” Coyote interrupted, “And damn good looking.” Grandfather sighed and continued, “Yes well…it seems to me you might have a point.” The Roadwise gave a grin like Sister Cat in the birdcage. “I will take a vacation then…but I am not about to let you take charge while I’m gone.” Coyote’s face fell, and clanged against the floor. Grandfather smiled, “I made you tricky my son, and the flaws of the maker are apparent in his work…while I’m away, I think I’ll let things run a bit on autopilot, heh, they seem to work alright on it so far.” Coyote scowled, as this was not going according to plan, but as Grandfather stepped down and put on his walking shoes, the Tomfool figured it all in fun and laughed anyways. He laughed because it sort of worked and sort of didn’t, he laughed because Grandfather would learn to laugh soon, just as he’d learn to cry…and he laughed ‘cause he picked up something from the brats he loved so dearly. He learned how to work a fiery sort of change, and because of that he laughed the hardest. So that’s how it was, and that’s how it is. Who knows what Grandfather is up to, and who knows where the hell Coyote done run off to. Brother Bear and Sister Wolf never realized anything was different, and come to think of it…no one else did either. But Coyote knows that’s gonna’ change somethin’ soon. This article comes from Shmeng http://www.shmeng.com/ The URL for this story is: http://www.shmeng.com/modules.php?op=modload&name=News&file=article&sid=503