Now, that Chevy, that 1959 Chevy Apache half-ton,
came roaring into Ixtlan with the Drunken Demon at
the wheel. Ol' Coyote sat on the passenger side with
his arm out the window, so he could feel the desert air.
The ancient Lava Rock sat motionless in the rear of
the Chevy half-ton.
It took the Drunken Demon exactly three seconds to
seat the Lava Rock at a table to the far end of the
Coyote marvelled. . . .
The Demon grinned, mischievously.
The Lava Rock nudged forward, in approval.
Ol' Coyote ordered seven cups of coffee. He poured
five of them over the ancient Lava Rock and asked
The Drunken Demon marvelled. . . .
Ol' Coyote grinned, mischievously.
The Lava Rock nudged slightly forward, pleased to
be a rock.
And, then, in one micro-second, in that small space of
time between seconds, the Lava Rock transported
them back in time, to 6,221, B.C. It transported them
to a place near the present-day Hopi Mesas, where they
saw an old village, a very old village, and a young
volcano that suddenly exploded, throwing its firey ash
and lava into the sky.
They marvelled. . . .
They saw the residents of this ancient village, scatter
and run to save their lives, carrying a few valuables
And then. . . then, they saw the lava and dust cover that
village, hiding it even from the sight of present-day
Ask the Hopi. . . ask the old ones, who know such
things, and they will tell you the same story.
But, that's not all. . . .
As the micro-second passed, as it slipped away, that
Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, found himself in the desert
with that ancient Lava Rock. The rock was in the same
position, and in the exact spot, as when they first met.
Coyote marvelled at the Lava Rock, and the ten cups
of coffee it had absorbed.
The Lava Rock fell asleep.
In the distance, Coyote saw the dust, and out of that
dust came the 1959 Chevy Apache half-ton. It stopped
fifty yards in front of Coyote. The door opened. Then,
he noticed the long, dark hair, and how it moved to the
rhythm of the southwest breeze.
She beckoned him to join her -- to drive deep into
Maria's deep, dark eyes, reflected light from the desert
Her flesh resembled the colour of lava rock. It balanced
with the land itself.
For a moment, Ol Coyote placed his hand on the warm
surface of the Lava Rock. He could feel life in a gentle
He left that place.
Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, sped across the desert
in a 1959 Chevy Apache half-ton, with Maria at the wheel.
He held his arm out the window, so he could feel the
Maria grinned, mischievously. . . .
Good medicine always!