Coyote Woman loved Sea Wolf. Sea Wolf loved Coyote Woman. They both wanted to get married, hold hands and walk together on the strip of sand where the land and the sea made love, leaving behind footprints in the sand that not even the incessant swaying of the waves could erase. They would walk forever, going around the world and discovering strange lands, dancing between endless dawns and sunsets. Sea Wolf had relatives somewhere in Tasmania, and Coyote Woman knew from her cousin Old Coyote of an island in the gulf where a newly married spirit couple could consummate their honeymoon.
They both spent several sleepless nights together, making plans and daydreaming about the road ahead. Coyote Woman smiled with all her fangs when Sea Wolf whispered promises of a life together, small tokens of his devotion to her. He was like the Ocean from which he came: a peaceful mantle of homely darkness, a gentle current that urged whoever swam in its warm depths to get carried away. When some passion took hold of him, he would puff out his chest like a puffer fish and words would come out of his mouth like the roar of the sea in a storm. His skin was dark as the evening, shiny as the rocks licked by the waves, and his eyes seemed to have stolen the green sparkle of the waters where the fish swam in the shadow of hungry pelicans.
That was how she had fallen in love with him. She, who since the dawn of time had been an indomitable beast who dedicated her waking hours to hunting hares and fighting stags, now wished to marry that young man born of salt and moonlight. She desperately wanted to give him her wild heart and treasure his – like a precious iridescent pearl – forever.
There was only one problem. Sea Wolf was the son of the Ocean and the Night. Coyote Woman was the daughter of Twilight and the Desert. Their worlds were different, united only by that strip of sand where the tides kissed the land. Two spirits so different could only marry if the will of nature allowed it, and Coyote Woman knew she would have to ask for the blessing of those who ruled the universe.
The first blessing came by itself. For the wedding, the Desert gave her daughter two rings of igneous stone – orphaned twins from an extinct volcano – and with a kiss on Coyote Woman's forehead she imparted the gift of knowledge:
"To marry Sea Wolf, you must obtain the blessing of earth and water, air and fire. You already have mine, because I am your mother, and it is my wish that you be happy. But the Sun is merciless and arrogant, the Wind is deaf and vociferous, and the Ocean is as inscrutable as it is capricious. From each one you must expect a request, a demand. Use your wit, my daughter, for the day of your marriage is close at hand."
And Coyote Woman, who was as smart as she was wild, took on the task of getting the blessings she needed to marry her beloved.
☼
When her father Twilight arrived, Coyote Woman said goodbye to Sea Wolf – who returned home at high tide – and walked to the horizon where the Sun was about to set. The king aster, dressed in fiery red, frowned as soon as he saw her approach and tried to sink faster into the darkness, but Coyote Woman ran and, in a few moments, she was so close to him that the tips of her whiskers smoked.
"What do you want?" snapped the Sun, who did not like being made to wait before going to sleep.
"Sun, I have come to ask your blessing to marry Sea Wolf," said Coyote Woman, extinguishing her singed whiskers. "You are fire, heavenly fire that burns and consumes, but also illuminates and gives life. Give me your blessing so that I may create new life with my beloved, so that our children carry a little of your light within."
"You are very bold coming to me with a request like that. You're lucky I didn't blind you for daring to interrupt my rest. Now get out before I immolate you with my flames!"
Coyote Woman smiled a toothy smile and said to the Sun:
"It is true, divine Sun, that I have interrupted your descent to the underworld. But I have not come to beg without offering you something in return. I will give you a gift, a tribute to your glory, if you give me your blessing to marry."
"What could you give me, Coyote Woman, that the almighty Sun does not already possess?" said the king aster. "The world is my domain, and by my grace all its creatures live. What poor offering could you give me?"
Coyote Woman licked her fangs.
"The Sun has everything, yes. He is king over the earth; the sky is his throne. His is the primordial fire and the devotion of men. But there is something that you do not possess, almighty Sun: a shadow of your own. All beings have one, except you. There is no darkness to mark your path, nor to follow you. You are light, and shadows flee from you."
The Sun meditated for a few moments and a grimace of concern appeared on his reddened face.
"And could you, Coyote Woman, give me a shadow of my own?"
"I know the ancient magic, the magic of the Dream-before-the-World, glorious Sun. With it I will make you a shadow, a shadow as magnificent as you. In return I ask only for your blessing."
"Very well," the Sun conceded. "I will give you my blessing. In exchange, you will take the Night and with it you will spin a shadow for me to proclaim my triumph. If by morning it is not done, I will burn with my rays every hair on your hide."
Thus, the Sun finally sank behind the horizon and darkness reigned. Coyote Woman – who of course had lied – gathered dry thicket, lost owl feathers, and charcoal as black as the belly of the earth. Then she bashed together the stone rings that her mother the Desert had given her and released a spark so hungry that it almost burned her hands. She put it in her mouth and gave it brandy to drink so it would stay alive until dawn.
When the Sun was about to rise, Coyote Woman coughed up the flame that had brewed in her throat and lit the great bonfire. The smoke rose up and up, forming a huge black cloud, so impenetrable that it seemed that part of the Night had been left behind. Then Coyote Woman greeted the Sun and bowed to him, saying:
"Almighty king of heaven, behold what I have promised – a shadow to mark your passage. I have woven it of dream substance and volcanic stone. Give me now your blessing to marry."
"So be it!" said the Sun, and he gave that which, once given, could not be taken back. So absorbed was he in the pride that his new shadow gave him that he did not notice how Coyote Woman snuck behind the rocks and faded from sight. By the time the smoke began to dissipate and the furious Sun knew he had been deceived, Coyote Woman was already very far away, and her unbridled laughter danced in the Wind.
༄
Coyote Woman hunted a hare and ate its raw meat. Then she rested in the shade of a saguaro and listened to the voice of the Wind.
I howl without a mouth. I caress without fingers. Mine is the air with which the owl takes flight. Mine is the breath of man and coyote. Mine is the scented trail that guides the hunter. I drag with me a thousand forgotten dreams, a thousand secretly whispered words, a thousand stories stolen from men.
Coyote Woman wanted to respond, and said:
"Wind that murmurs to the gods, you who in the merciless heat relieves us, I come to ask for your blessing, for I want to marry my beloved. I will give you in exchange whatever you ask for, whatever it is you desperately long for."
But the Wind did not listen to Coyote Woman, whose voice was lost amidst his bellowing. The Wind is deaf, because he only listens to himself, and again he intoned:
My caress brings the rain. My fury is a fearsome storm. I move clouds, I move ships. Invisible and eternal, I roar and sing.
"Don't you know?" hissed a Serpent that was looking for the scent of prey in the dust that the Wind raised in his path. "The Wind cannot hear you, because his voice drowns out all prayers. Like me, he undulates from one side to the other, and with him he drags the memory of the ancestors. But he never listens, he never concedes."
"Serpent," said Coyote Woman. "You are wise among the wise. You know the secrets of gods and men. Will you tell me how I can speak with the Wind?"
"Give me the heart of that hare," said the Serpent, "and I will teach you."
Coyote Woman gave her prey to the wise reptile, and he guided her to the coast. He crawled up to a cave at the foot of a large rock lapped by the waves, and pointed with his eyes:
"The Wind enters here and crashes against the ancient stone. He cannot pass through it: the mountain is stronger than him. When he enters, you must close the mouth of the cave. He will not be able to leave, and you will let him know your request."
Coyote Woman entered the cave and felt the Wind blow. His bellows – moist with the sea breeze – bounced violently against the stone walls, swirling in the great gorge before being exhaled again, leaving behind ghostly echoes. Coyote Woman rolled a huge rock to the entrance. She waited patiently, and when the Wind came in with an exhalation that sounded like thunder, she pushed with all her strength until she sealed the mouth of the cave.
The Wind – surprised – crashed against the stone. He bounced from one wall to another, tore with its invisible claws at the confines of his prison, but could do nothing to escape back into the open sky.
"Deaf Wind, you ignore my words, so I have trapped you," Coyote Woman then said.
Trapped, Coyote Woman's voice reverberated in the swirling air like a coiled snake. Trapped, the voice of the Wind echoed.
"Listen to me now. I will free you, for being free is your deepest desire, but in exchange you will give me what I want: I want to marry Sea Wolf, and thus I ask for your blessing."
Blessing, echoed the Wind on the walls of the cave. His voice was that of Coyote Woman. Coyote Woman's voice was his.
I witness the changing of the eras. I remain while the Sun sets. I give you my blessing now: free me, and your love will be eternal.
Coyote Woman pushed the stone away, and the Wind escaped in a puff of water and salt. Coyote Woman remained behind; she only had one challenge left before her time at the altar came.
☾
The Night enveloped the world in her embrace, and a gigantic full Moon – dressed in intense yellow – dominated its black mantle. Coyote Woman stood on the beach and gazed at them, let the high tide kiss her feet, and waited. The Moon descended little by little until she began to sink into the Ocean, and Coyote Woman knew it was time. She gave herself to the waves and swam with all her strength towards the horizon, where the Moon would unite the sky and the sea. There, Coyote Woman knew, was where she should ask for the blessing of her beloved's parents.
But that Night the currents of the Ocean were powerful, so strong that Coyote Woman could not fight them, and the place where the sky and the sea touched moved further and further away as she, exhausted, took increasingly weaker strokes. Finally, the sea spat her onto the shore, and Coyote Woman ended up puffing on the sand.
From the sea foam then emerged an ancient Turtle, older than the world, her shell wider than Coyote Woman's open arms.
"Get on my back," said the venerable Turtle, messenger of the depths. "I will take you to where God dwells in liquid moonlight."
Coyote Woman crossed her legs on the Turtle's shell, and together they went into the sea. On the horizon, the Ocean was perfectly still, and the Moon was slowly sinking into his immensity. Where the sky and the sea touched, the reflection of the full Moon showed that they were one, a single Ocean covered with stars, a single Night of calm waters.
"There," said the Turtle. "That is where God has His refuge, for He fell from the firmament and became a marine creature. It is Him who you must ask for the blessing you seek, for it is His Word that unites the stars and the waters in eternal dance. When the worlds are one, He will come."
Coyote Woman and the Turtle waited in silence, lulled by the sound of the sea. Then, in the distance, they heard the voice of God. It was a high-pitched shriek, an echo as deep as the oceanic abyss, a call that reverberated through the water like the lament of a dying animal. It was a wordless song, the melancholic symphony of a forgotten world, the cry of a lonely soul.
"God sings," said Coyote Woman. "His song is sad because He is alone, because the world has forgotten Him. Men, animals, even the other gods – all have lost His memory. But you, the Turtle who has witnessed everything, remember who He is, and you remember His Name."
"And you, Coyote Woman, are a weaver of stories. You walk the border between the story and the world, between the waking and the dreaming. That is why I have brought you here: because you are the voice of those who scream, and the echoes of the legends that were never told. You are a liar and a trickster, but what are storytellers, if not the greatest liars?"
"Tell me the Name of God, great Turtle, so that I may tell His story."
Coyote Woman listened close with her pointy ear, and the Turtle whispered the forgotten Name of God. A tingling ran through Coyote Woman from snout to tail, as if lightning had snuck under her skin. She gratefully kissed the Turtle's shell and threw herself headfirst into the sea.
The icy water stabbed Coyote Woman's bones, and her eyes burned with salt. Submerged in the most fearsome darkness, only the light of the Moon allowed her to distinguish her own form in the abyss. Everywhere she looked there was nothing but inscrutable water – a liquid, empty, infinite cosmos where only she existed. Then she saw it: there, wrapped in dim light, was a great solid shadow, a maelstrom that advanced relentlessly towards her. Fear grew in Coyote Woman's heart. The gigantic creature that was God reached her, and His black silhouette devoured her. She looked at Him fearfully, but He only intoned His lament once again.
"I name You, Father of Water and the Skies," Coyote Woman responded. Her words came out clear despite the fear that squeezed her chest, came out firm despite the water that filled her lungs with each exhalation. "I name You, for Your people are gone, and there is no heart that worships You, nor mouth that prays to You."
"I name You, because even the Sun and the Wind have forgotten You."
"I name You, ancient singer of the depths."
"I name You, for I will be the one to tell Your story. You will always be remembered."
"I name You so You will never be alone again."
"I name You by Your Name, Niparaya! Will You give me Your blessing?"
Niparaya, the great celestial whale, looked at her with eyes as big as a man's fist. He opened His enormous maw and spoke a single word:
YES.
And Coyote Woman, blessed, was carried to the beach by the warm currents of a grateful Ocean.
⚘
The wedding of Coyote Woman and Sea Wolf lasted six days and six nights. All creatures and spirits of the Desert and the Ocean were invited, and even the Sun and the Wind attended. The priest was a bighorn sheep, and the bridesmaid was a manta ray. They were all very happy, especially the newlyweds. They danced, sang, told stories, and drank until their heads spun round.
On the last day, while the guests danced and drank abundant saguaro liquor, Coyote Woman and Sea Wolf sneaked to the beach and rested on the sand under a perfect clear sky, caressed by gentle sea breeze.
"You know, my love?" said Sea Wolf. "I never doubted you could do it, but I never thought you would do it so quickly."
Coyote Woman laughed and hugged her husband tightly.
"That's what you get for underestimating me, Little Wolf. We coyotes are crafty, and once in a while things turn out well for us."
"Is that how you accomplished all this?" he smiled.
"I had help from some good friends," she admitted, and snuggled on his chest. "I'm a trickster, but a grateful one. Do you want me to tell you about them? I think I'll start with Niparaya…"
In the distance – among the murmur of the waves – echoed a joyous whalesong.