Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Ol' Coyote and the Ancient Lava Rock

Now, Coyote, that Ol' Man Coyote, walked down a
hill, crossed the road leading to Ixtlan, and continued
on past a giant Agave plant. As he walked along,
he saw a small area of dust near the horizon.

Ol' Coyote sat on a large piece of Ancient Lava Rock,
that was watching the dust.

"I'll watch the dust with you," Coyote said, tapping
the rock with his left index finger. As they watched
the dust, the Lava Rock felt compelled to move, ever
so slightly.

"Yeah," I know, Coyote replied. The rock nudged
forward, again.

"That's my guess, too," Coyote whispered. He
stirred, stood on the rock, and peered into the dust.
"See, it's larger now -- seems to be coming straight
at us."

The Lava Rock nudged slightly to the left.

"Don't mind if I do," Coyote replied, lifting a side of
the rock to extract a flask of mescal. He downed a
triple shot of the stuff, quivered, shook, and sprang
to his feet, dancing about the Ancient Lava Rock,
singing, "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling".

The Lava Rock nudged slightly to the right.

Coyote returned the mescal to its shallow cavern,
beneath the rock.

The Lava Rock smiled as rocks do from time to time.
"Wake me when next you visit," it said, falling
asleep.

"Wait," Coyote replied, "would you like to travel to
Ixtlan for coffee?"

"Well . . . I haven't had coffee in . . . in . . . well,
I remember drinking something five thousand years
ago. Do you suppose it was coffee?"

Ol' Coyote thought for a moment . . .

"It was probably a Hopi or Anasazi brew, or, a gift
from the Mayans."

"Do they serve coffee to Lava Rocks at the market
in Ixtlan?"

Ol' Coyote thought for a second moment . . .

"I expect so. They served coffee to Rattlesnake
when we visited the market in 2001."

"That's very special. Will you carry me to Ixtlan,
Coyote? I move slowly. "

"We'll hitch a ride."

"Hitch a ride?"

"Certainly. I'll stand on you and stick out my thumb,
in this fashion."



Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, stood on the Lava Rock
in a classic hitchhiking pose -- you can just imagine
what that was like. You see, the ol' fella had seen
a 1959 Chevy Apache half-ton come barrelling out of
the dust cloud. The Chevy came straight for them,
until it veered off to Coyote's right, stopping near
the Lava Rock.

The Lava Rock nudged itself forward -- to Coyote
vision, it moved two centimetres.

"Who the hell are you?" Coyote asked the little red
man, behind the wheel.

"I'm the Drunken Demon."

"Oh, how interesting." Coyote tapped the Lava Rock
with his right foot. The Rock smiled.




Now, that little red man, that Drunken Demon, smiled
back, while wiping his brow, saying, "Geez, it's hot
as hell, here!"

"We're on our way to Ixtlan for a cup of coffee.
That's why I flagged you down," Coyote said.

"Well, Maria sensed you were out here in the desert.
That's why she loaned me her truck. Besides, I'm also
looking for a garden of blue corn. Have you seen the
blue corn? Did you say, 'we'? I don't see anyone
else?"

Ol' Coyote thought for a third moment . . .

"You should go to the high desert country for the blue
corn." Then, he continued, "Lava Rock and I are having
coffee together."

The Lava Rock nudged backwards by two centimetres.

"What did it say?" The Demon asked.

"It told us to get our asses in gear, and place it
on the truck box."

"How're we gonna place such a large rock on the
truck box?" The Demon questioned.

"Well, you're a Demon -- that should be a simple
task for you," Coyote said.

"Yeah, I'd like to help, but I'm useless when I'm
sober," the Demon said, sobbing.

Ol' Coyote winked,
Ol, Coyote blinked,
Ol' Coyote grabbed the mescal
from the kitchen sink.

(Sorry. I'm not serious. I only wrote that because
it rhymes, somewhat. Let's try that again.)

Ol' Coyote winked. Ol' Coyote blinked. Ol' Coyote
lifted one side of the Lava Rock to retrieve the
mescal. He handed it to the Drunken Demon.

The Demon smiled. "Geez, I haven't had mescal
since yesterday!"

He emptied the flask, danced an Irish jig, stood
on his head, and threw the Lava Rock on the truck
box.

"Careful, I'm an Ancient Lava Rock." It said.



Now, that 1959 Chevy Apache half-ton, Maria's
Chevy Apache half-ton, made a sharp turn to the
south and headed off in the general direction of
Ixtlan. Soon, it was a small area of dust near the
horizon.

To be continued . . . .

LaurieC

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