ZaZaCat's Patch of Sun

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ZaZaCat

ZaZaCat
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Northern Virginia, USA
Birthday
August 21
Title
Unemployed. Elected President of local HOA because nobody else would volunteer for the job.
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Only the company of my household. I am a former U.S. Gov't worker, who held a Top Secret clearance.
Bio
A 40-something Leo/Scorpio woman-- always opinionated/and yes, I really mean it. Cherished daughter, respected sister, tolerated mother and rooster-pecked wife. Dedicated book reader from childhood. Online game player (City of Heroes, Gardens of Time), amateur gardener and occasional astrologer. I am being treated for both hypothyroidism and ADD, which explains why sometimes I'm too tired of everything or why I'm too distracted to give a damn. Usually intelligent, sometimes ferocious, frequently under-appreciated and currently unemployed. ---------------------------------------------------- "How terrible is wisdom when it brings no profit to the wise." -- Sophocles

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SEPTEMBER 28, 2010 12:12PM

"How The Animals Got Their Voices" (Abridged) by Trevanian

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An Onondagan Primal Tale
 
Part Two
 
     The animals were in full babble that morning of the seventh and last day of the Great Meeting when Old entered carrying a woven basket which he placed near the entrance.  He then walked slowly to the center of the circle and sat on the ground, while all around him swirled snarls and banter and taunting and boasting.  But the talk staggered and faltered, first here, then there, as one by one the delegates noticed the elsewhere stare in Old's eyes and his deathly pallor caused by long hours of fasting and by sipping the juice of the dangerous mushroom.  They could all see that his spirit was with She-Who-Creates-by-Speaking-Its-Name.
 
     Speaking through Old's hollow, eerie voice, She-Who-Creates-by-Speaking-Its-Name told the gathering of the menace of Pale-eyes, who would chop down the forest (Tree winced), and foul the swamps (Beaver blanched), and slay the game (many gasped), but who would do his greatest harm to the People, against whose arrows he would turn his firestick, and the People would fall in vast numbers.  But his firestick was not Pale-eyes' most dreadful weapon.  He would also cough upon the People and they would suffer fever and pain and whole families would die, whole clans, whole villages, and few would be left to chant of their ancestors' glorious deeds.  But illness was not Pale-eyes' most dreadful weapon.  He would also give the People dreamwater, which would daze them and make them believe they could hear the silence and see the invisible.  Pale-eyes' dreamwater would steal the dignity of the People and make them fools and braggarts.  But even his dreamwater was not the most dreadful of Pale-eyes' weapons.  He would also give the People his Book, which would teach them to be meek, to accept insults, and to wait for justice after death.  And the bringers of the Book would ridicule the teachings of She-Who-Creates-by-Speaking-Its-Name and mock the ancient truths and ways.  Our fierce courage would be sapped, our inner voices would be silenced, and we would become pliant, obedient, and foolish.
 
     "But why does Pale-eyes hate the People so?" Coyote cawed.
 
     "Who asked why Pale-eyes hates the People?" wondered bewildered Mole, "Who?  Who?"  And four or five of her annoyed neighbors spoke harshly, saying "Coyote asked it.  Now be quiet!"
 
     Speaking through Old, She-Who-Creates-by-Speaking-Its-Name answered Coyote's question.  "Pale-eyes hates the People because he has in his belly a terrible hunger to own their land."
 
     "Own land?" gobbled Dog.  "But how can one own land?"
 
     "Absurd!" scoffed Tree in an outraged bark.  "Whoever heard of owning land?"
 
     "One cannot own land," growled Snake.  "You might as well say that one can own the air, or the waters, or the clouds!  Such things cannot be owned.  They can be enjoyed, or used, or sung about, but they cannot be owned."
 
     Bobcat croaked in agreement, but deep in her greedy heart she could understand the sinful pleasure Pale-eyes must feel at having something for himself alone and not having to share it with anybody.
 
     Each tried to out-scoff the other at the silly idea of owning land or air or clouds or water, and it wasn't long before everyone was purring and barking and hissing and meowing and croaking and gobbling and snarling until none could hear Old's soft voice; so he rose up and stared at them with terrible eyes, and ordered them to be still!  Be still!
 
     And there was a sudden silence in the meeting lodge.  Old glared about him with a terrible wrath.  "You petty things!" he roared.  "You small-hearted things!  You have no command over your passions!  We shall never learn how to stand against Pale-eyes with all your babbling and spitting.  Therefore, I command you to take the voices out of your mouths and put them into yonder woven basket until the meeting is over.  Do as I say, and do it now!"
 
     And meekly did all the animals, even ill-tempered Bear and haughty Frog, pluck the voices from their mouths and drop them into the woven basket.  Crow dropped in her hiss, and greedy Bobcat her croak; Dog put in her gobble, and haughty Frog her yap; Coyote gave up her caw, and placid Tree her bark; Bear surrendered her thin, high squeak, and Turkey her purr, and Owl her snarl.
 
     They they all sat humbled before Old, who quelled his rage with long slow breaths before saying to She-Who-Creates-by-Speaking-Its-Name, "It is clear that the People must fight Pale-eyes and drive him away."
 
     Speaking within his heart, She-Who-Creates-by-Speaking-Its-Name said, "You will fight Pale-eyes, but you will not have victory.  The People are brave and resourceful, but they are few, for all the Five Nations are but two thousand warriors, while Pale-eyes is ten thousand, and again ten thousand, and ten thousand more and more and more, all flowing across the Great Water without end."
 
     Old sighed deeply.  "Then we have no choice but to learn to live beside him," said Old.
 
     "You cannot live beside him," responded She-Who-Creates-by-Speaking-Its-Name, "for he will destroy the land.  The People are few and they tread the land lightly, staying at one place only until Earth is weary, then moving on so that she can rest and recover.  But Pale-eyes is many and he will tread the land heavily, forcing Earth to bear until she is so worn and fatigued that she crumbles into the streams and is swept away forever."
 
     "Is there nothing we can do?" cried Old.
 
     "There is a way to save yourselves," answered She-Who-Creates-by-Speaking-Its-Name.  "You can---"
 
     But if there was an answer it was never heard, for at this moment Turtle stumbled into the meeting lodge, out of breath and panting from her centuries-long dash to bring the terrible news.  "Pale-eyes is coming!" she cried.  "Pale-eyes is coming!  He is right behind me!"
 
     All the animals jumped up in alarm and opened their mouths to cry out in terror...but no sound came.  They rushed to the woven basket, pushing and shoving to get at their voices, and in their frenzied haste they snatched out whatever voice came to hand, clapped it into their mouth, and ran off into the forest crying "Pale-eyes is coming!  Pale-eyes is coming!"  Crow took the caw of Coyote; Dog grabbed the bark of Tree; Frog snapped up Bobcat's croak; Bear hooked out Snake's growl; Owl seized the "Who?  Who?" of bewildered Mole, who took Bear's thin, high squeak, while Coyote snatched out Frog's yap and Turkey popped Dog's gobble into its mouth.  Snake was beginning to swallow Crow's hiss when greedy Bobcat snatched most of it away, leaving Snake with only a little hiss, while Bobcat has a lot.  Not content with most of Crow's hiss, greedy Bobcat also took Owl's snarl and Turkey's purr and ran out with all three in her mouth.  Tree was last to get to the woven basket, for, then as now, trees moved more slowly than other animals, and when she felt around the bottom of the basket there was no voice left for her, because greedy Bobcat had taken so many.  So vexed was Tree that she swore to have nothing further to do with the animals and she became a member of the plant family, where she remains to this day.
 
     Old went forth to face Pale-eyes and fell before his firestick.
 
     As a reward for her heroic two-hundred-year-long dash to warn of the coming of Pale-eyes, Turtle was adopted into the animal family, an honor that she accepted for fear of offending them, but deep down she regretted forsaking her honored position as swiftest of the rocks to become slowest of the animals.  But as she became an animal after all the animal voices were used up, Turtle still speaks the silent language of the stones.  Listen very carefully to her someday, and you will hear it.
 
 

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Please read Part One, which I posted earlier, if you haven't already. Sorry about the abridging, but the story wouldn't fit otherwise.
I am dedicating this story post to my uncle Bobby, a wonderful storyteller himself, who died yesterday, age 81. Rest in peace, Uncle Bobby, I miss you.