The Prince and the Coyote by David Bowles
Author:David Bowles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Levine Querido
The meal is hearty and delicious. Sekalli serves herself three times, staring at me pointedly as she devours the blend of meat, tomatoes, and squash.
Is this what you want? Her eyes seem to ask. Iâll be whatever you want, Neza.
Of course, aloud she continues to rib me, joking about how I run like a coyote with burrs in its tail and other superficial insults. Her mother scolds her. Sekalli ignores the reprimands, continuing to pick at my faults.
Itâs just her way. And it no longer bothers me. I hear what sheâs truly saying.
Makwiltoch tells the story of how the fearsome Itzpapalotl disguised herself as a deer and tricked two Tolteca hunters into killing her, so that, burned and bundled as a goddess, she could lead their people across the Chichimeca wastelands toward Anahuac to found Tollan. Then it is time to sleep.
The light of a full moon filters through the cracks in walls and roof. Sleep eludes me as I think about the many deer the coyote and I brought down together. The sense memory of her fur against my fingers makes my heart ache for a moment.
Then, the air begins to echo with howling.
I rise as quiet as I can be from my mat and slip out into the night. Itâs her, I think. That particular timbre and pitchâthe rough rumble as her cry decays.
Where are you? I want to shout. Instead, I try to track the direction of the sound. But as soon as I think Iâve pinpointed her position, the howls start again elsewhere.
Standing at the edge of the farm, I reach my arms up, pleading.
âDonât do this to me!â I call. âIsnât my suffering enough? Why must you strike at my heart every time it begins to heal? Why must you strip each happiness from me?â
Tears stream from my eyes. My shoulders tremble with sobs I can barely contain.
Then, I feel an embrace enfold me, thin arms reaching from behind to pull me close.
Sekalliâs body, warm and small, redolent of grass and mountain flowers.
âShhh,â she whispers against my shoulders, her sweet breath soft in my hair. âItâs okay. Iâm here, darling boy. Iâm here.â
My heart unmoored from the world, adrift in this impossible moment, I turn to look upon her face, silvered by the moon until her ethereal beauty is almost unbearable.
The wheels of the cosmos turn like tumblers.
Our fate clicks into place.
I kiss her.
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