Running Barefoot
Page 87
“Not knowing what else he can do, Coyote keeps walking and exploring. Then he comes upon many more people, all weak and starving to death. Coyote says to them, “If this is the belly of a giant, then the walls are made of muscle and fat, and we can cut into the walls and eat this meat.” So Coyote uses his sharp stick and his teeth and cuts meat from the walls of the giant’s belly. He feeds all the people, and they are happy. They say, “thank you for feeding us, but we still can’t get out.” Coyote says to them, “If this is the giant’s belly, his heart can’t be too far away. I will find his heart and stab him and kill him.” One of the people say, “See that big pumping volcano over there? That is the giant’s heart.”
“Coyote crawls up the volcano and stabs his stick into the heart of the giant. The giant yells out. “Is that you, Coyote? Quit cutting me and stabbing me, and I will open up my mouth and let you out.”
“But Coyote doesn’t just want to just save himself, he needs to save the others, too. Thick lava starts to spill out of the volcano that is the giant’s heart. The giant starts to shake, and Coyote tells the people that the volcano is causing an earthquake and the giant will open his mouth, and the people can run out. As the giant is in his death throes, he roars in pain and the people trapped in his belly run out of his mouth. Coyote has saved them.” Samuel finished his tale and sat looking at me, expectantly.
“That’s a good story…but I’m not sure what it has to do with the wood tick.” I raised my eyebrows in question.
“Oh yeah,” Samuel smiled back. “See, the wood tick is the last to get out, and he is just crawling out when the giant dies and his jaws close. Coyote has to pull him out between the giant’s teeth, and he gets flattened in the process.”
“Ahhh, that makes perfect sense.” I laugh out loud. “I like how Native American legends seem to be a mix of the very far-fetched and the very practical.”
Samuel’s grandmother had been sitting nearby, working with her wool again, and she looked up as I chuckled. She seemed to have followed our conversation, and I concluded that she must understand English better than she could speak it.
She spoke to me now, though I didn’t understand. Her face was kind and her words soft.
“Grandma says that just like the stories in my bible, the legends have hidden lessons if you look deep enough. It is the lesson behind the story that is the most important part.” Samuel translated for me as he gazed at his grandmother, his expression matching hers.
“Like parables?”
Grandma Yazzie nodded her head, like she understood my question. She spoke to me again, this time in stilted English, and I listened attentively, knowing it was uncomfortable for her and knowing she tried for my sake.
“Coyote not know he trapped.” She looked down at the wool she was carding, and didn’t say more.
I looked at Samuel for further clarification, not really understanding what his grandmother was trying to communicate. Samuel was still for a moment, and then he leveled his gaze on mine, squinting a little against the sun that had infiltrated our limited shade.
“Coyote was inside the belly of the giant, and he didn’t even know it. He was completely unaware that he was trapped. I think that’s what grandma was trying to say.”
“You could also argue that Coyote was the only one who wasn’t trapped.” I shrugged, knowing that Samuel’s grandmother’s interpretation of the legend had reminded him of me. My stomach twisted at the knowledge, and I was suddenly eager to turn the tables on him. “Coyote had no trouble getting out – but he knew he couldn’t leave everyone else behind.”
“Hmm. I should have known you’d see it that way.” Samuel reached out and brushed his fingertips down my cheek. “I feel like I’m back on the bus, trying to keep up. You were always two steps ahead of me.”
“Would it make you feel better if we arm wrestled?” I poked at him, “I’m sure I wouldn’t stand a chance.” I was relieved to turn the conversation in a different direction.
Samuel laughed out loud, and his grandmother looked up sharply, her eyes resting lovingly on his grinning countenance. Her gaze slid reluctantly from his face to mine, and her eyes were full of questions.
19. Crescendo
There are supposed to be links between math, music, and astronomy – some of the greatest composers have been avid star-watchers. The connections between math and music made sense – although there is more to the connection than timing, counting, and notes on a line. In fact, there is something neurological that occurs in the brain when certain types of music are played. That neurological change is said to positively affect our mathematical abilities. I’d been fascinated by what some researchers have called the Mozart Effect, and have used the study to convince more than one mother to keep her struggling child in piano lessons.
But the only connection I’d ever made between astronomy and music was in the way each made me feel. When I looked up into the firmament, I felt the same reverence that moved in me when I listened to the swell of great music. I’d never had anyone teach me about the stars like Samuel’s grandmother had done for him. What I’d learned in school textbooks failed to inspire me, as if some vital piece was being omitted. The galaxy was a riddle that everyone pretended to know the answer to, but no one really did. At school, I’d often find myself growing impatient with facts and figures that seemed like paltry suggestions for something that was beyond words and explanations.
“Coyote crawls up the volcano and stabs his stick into the heart of the giant. The giant yells out. “Is that you, Coyote? Quit cutting me and stabbing me, and I will open up my mouth and let you out.”
“But Coyote doesn’t just want to just save himself, he needs to save the others, too. Thick lava starts to spill out of the volcano that is the giant’s heart. The giant starts to shake, and Coyote tells the people that the volcano is causing an earthquake and the giant will open his mouth, and the people can run out. As the giant is in his death throes, he roars in pain and the people trapped in his belly run out of his mouth. Coyote has saved them.” Samuel finished his tale and sat looking at me, expectantly.
“That’s a good story…but I’m not sure what it has to do with the wood tick.” I raised my eyebrows in question.
“Oh yeah,” Samuel smiled back. “See, the wood tick is the last to get out, and he is just crawling out when the giant dies and his jaws close. Coyote has to pull him out between the giant’s teeth, and he gets flattened in the process.”
“Ahhh, that makes perfect sense.” I laugh out loud. “I like how Native American legends seem to be a mix of the very far-fetched and the very practical.”
Samuel’s grandmother had been sitting nearby, working with her wool again, and she looked up as I chuckled. She seemed to have followed our conversation, and I concluded that she must understand English better than she could speak it.
She spoke to me now, though I didn’t understand. Her face was kind and her words soft.
“Grandma says that just like the stories in my bible, the legends have hidden lessons if you look deep enough. It is the lesson behind the story that is the most important part.” Samuel translated for me as he gazed at his grandmother, his expression matching hers.
“Like parables?”
Grandma Yazzie nodded her head, like she understood my question. She spoke to me again, this time in stilted English, and I listened attentively, knowing it was uncomfortable for her and knowing she tried for my sake.
“Coyote not know he trapped.” She looked down at the wool she was carding, and didn’t say more.
I looked at Samuel for further clarification, not really understanding what his grandmother was trying to communicate. Samuel was still for a moment, and then he leveled his gaze on mine, squinting a little against the sun that had infiltrated our limited shade.
“Coyote was inside the belly of the giant, and he didn’t even know it. He was completely unaware that he was trapped. I think that’s what grandma was trying to say.”
“You could also argue that Coyote was the only one who wasn’t trapped.” I shrugged, knowing that Samuel’s grandmother’s interpretation of the legend had reminded him of me. My stomach twisted at the knowledge, and I was suddenly eager to turn the tables on him. “Coyote had no trouble getting out – but he knew he couldn’t leave everyone else behind.”
“Hmm. I should have known you’d see it that way.” Samuel reached out and brushed his fingertips down my cheek. “I feel like I’m back on the bus, trying to keep up. You were always two steps ahead of me.”
“Would it make you feel better if we arm wrestled?” I poked at him, “I’m sure I wouldn’t stand a chance.” I was relieved to turn the conversation in a different direction.
Samuel laughed out loud, and his grandmother looked up sharply, her eyes resting lovingly on his grinning countenance. Her gaze slid reluctantly from his face to mine, and her eyes were full of questions.
19. Crescendo
There are supposed to be links between math, music, and astronomy – some of the greatest composers have been avid star-watchers. The connections between math and music made sense – although there is more to the connection than timing, counting, and notes on a line. In fact, there is something neurological that occurs in the brain when certain types of music are played. That neurological change is said to positively affect our mathematical abilities. I’d been fascinated by what some researchers have called the Mozart Effect, and have used the study to convince more than one mother to keep her struggling child in piano lessons.
But the only connection I’d ever made between astronomy and music was in the way each made me feel. When I looked up into the firmament, I felt the same reverence that moved in me when I listened to the swell of great music. I’d never had anyone teach me about the stars like Samuel’s grandmother had done for him. What I’d learned in school textbooks failed to inspire me, as if some vital piece was being omitted. The galaxy was a riddle that everyone pretended to know the answer to, but no one really did. At school, I’d often find myself growing impatient with facts and figures that seemed like paltry suggestions for something that was beyond words and explanations.
