A Cherokee Folk Tale of the Wampus Cat!~
A Cherokee Folk Tale of the Wampus Cat!~
This is one of my ultimate favorite of folk tales…Enjoy Blogging world!~
I dedicate this story to the children of the Earth. May you all have family members and friends who feed your good wolf.
A folk lore tale of the Ojibway in two parts!
A Native American story: The story of the giants
Slingshot will be sharing some folktales to the blogging world, hope you all enjoy!~ I love listening to age old stories don’t you?
J’hara, Prince of the Woods made a comment to his all mighty sister of earth creations, “Two down sister and now this man will be her third.” Brother and sister team sit in spirit form watching the half breed being romanced by a surfer on a beach in California. J’hara would never tell his sister he had searched high and low to connect the perfect third man in the spirit talker’s life to become her husband. He watches with hope for freedom to walk the earth once again as a tangible wolf racing beside the powerful Celeste while viewing the lover’s first kiss. At the age of twenty-nine, Celeste didn’t need potions or spells to have a man fall in love with her. She had kept to her self all the time to focus on getting an education, and staying out of trouble. Many young men at college approached Celeste to date, but she wouldn’t give them the time or day to encourage a relationship. She endured the loneliness in pleasure without needing friends to venture into the night life scene for fun, and stayed true to her word never to let California change her naive spirit as long as she lived by the healing ocean with a book in her hand.
Since she loved the peaceful aura of water, she was tickled pink to have found a small guest house to rent off the beaten path near the ocean cliff side. Staying outside the hustle bustle beach life in shadow kept her from going into a culture shock. If she wasn’t in school, she secretly engulfed her every waking moment to feed homeless people of the night. Every other night she fed their hungry bellies in an abundance of cooked fish she hunted for the day, an in spy movements the earth girl stayed a mystery to the homeless Vietnam Veterans. Celeste never wore her Indian attire after the day she arrived California; however, she did change her earth fashion to wear dark flowing material to look as if she came from India to hide her Native American appearance when visiting the forgotten men of war.
Her heart weeps for the soldiers knowing political government is the cause of war vets losing their heads, and becoming non-function bodies to society; so she decided to become a quiet vigilante for the wounded soldiers since their horrific memories to kill left them unable to take care of themselves. For many years she no longer was plagued by the spiritual secret voices inside her head. Her solitude life in beauty and peace is a dream come true for the spitfire until a surfer boy took a chance to bee line in secrecy to her private shore to surf the midnight big waves. The stormy black evening brought large waves crashing down upon the night shoreline as Celeste leans against a rock drinking a bottle of red wine. She giggles out to the dark skies with drunken delight to have her college degree as a Veterinarian. She is thinking about leaving California to live in New Mexico to return back to her old ways of hunting and living one with the earth, when a surfer runs for the waves with his long board catching her interest.
“Me thinks brother that you’ve had a hand in my sweet daughter’s outcome in love?” J’hara winced in hurt to hear his sister might know of his magical plans for Celeste. Her all seeing orbs glow emerald green boring deep in his invisible spirit searching for truth. “She will one day soon step into her ordain path brother, and when she does watch the firework show. For she will be more powerful as a Spirit Talker than I can express with her truth and justice attitude. I do say she has the right sacrasanct heart for my task.” The holy spirit softens her gems upon her earth daughter, “I wish I could tell her how very proud I am; instead I can only shower her with positive energy for her rewards to stay one with my creations. Tis amazing after the hardship she has endured as a child, she has stayed uncontaminated from foul energy. Her tender trusting soul is simple, humble, and bears unconditional love without restrictions. She has shown me many other strong traits I thought lost in mankind brother.” Mother Earth silence her self for a few moments, and wisps her last words to her corrupted brother that became power hungry and failed. “Hum…the education she has learnt in animals will grow and become a powerful asset for her future and earth. She is a huntress not a warrior brother, so it will be your duty to protect her in the future. I fear my corrupted children of this earth need her more now than ever; nevertheless, I will handle mankind’s intrusion for the time being to protect the folktales of my creation in this universe. I will give her this time to bring life in our world, and meet her true soul mate before she takes her rightful place beside us.” J’hara wolf’s out, “So we wait another twenty some odd years?” His sister nods yes as he ads, “Should I stamp her ass with another heart?” Mother Earth gives her brother and nasty glance, “Don’t you dare brother for this man will hurt her and doesn’t deserve the honor,” she spoke with authority and silently disappears leaving J’hara alone to watch the lovers kiss.
After watching the sea shell return to it’s homeland she thought about the life she must create for herself. “No more being a woods girl, I need to grow up and leave my weapons behind or I might find myself in a heap of trouble.” The cowgirl hears laughter once again from the “Little People.” She gazes out into the fading sunset of light, and bellows out to no one but her ancestors, “Thank you Great Spirit, Mother Earth, and Lord my God, and to my spiritual Little People! I am bless to be here, give me the strength and courage in my passing days to become the person I am to become.” Celeste closes her eyes and felt the familiar breeze she knew so well in the woods of Ohio and Alabama, comforting her spirit while softly hearing whispering wind words of goodbyes. “I love every one of ya, I can’t never repay y’all for what ya have given me in my life at the end of my line. I promise thou to make ya proud of me! I only ask this one favor to please let me live in peace until it’s my time to be with Mother Earth,” Celeste’s tears of gratitude streams down her face as she spreads out her arms reaching up to the skies giving thanks to the heavens. The warm wind gently caress her face, making her hair fly out in the direction the wind blew, when she heard a faint whisper of a word….”Love!” Knowing why it was said she replies, “I will love one day, but not today,” Spoken with wisdom she smiles with mischief while putting her slingshot back in place. She takes a scan of water and earth before climbing down the cliff wall. The last bit of light is fading into the horizon when she touches the soft sand with her feet, and hears the sound of a lonely wolf howl inside her mind.
Celeste didn’t notice the lifeguard watching in the distance with his binoculars. What he saw was an Indian girl who climbed a cliff wall with Indian attire and war paint adoring her skin. Her long hair is flying with the wind when she steals the show of the setting sun. Feeling powerless, he couldn’t stop her from climbing the dangerous cliff. He watched the whole scene unfold into an enchanting, unforgettable movie. The sight was too magical on a beach in Santa Barbara not to share when he could have sworn he saw a ghost of a white horse and wolf stand next to the Native American on the cliff. The life guard immediately picks up his telephone to speak with his friend who is a movie producer in Hollywood about a movie idea with a Indian maiden. When she returns to her truck, she takes one more compelling deep breath of the salty air relishing in deep thought she completed her task. She gets into her truck and turns the engine on when she is approached by a charming good looking life guard. “Are you an Actress?” the man stated with a smile and is in awe with her mysterious beauty. She nods no with her head, “No I am Celeste Two Trees nothing more and nothing less.” He grimaces to try and figure out her strange husky dialect, and then hands her a business card. “My number is on the back if you would like to get a hold of me sometime.” She giggles and thanks the blonde hair blue eyed boy kindly as he steps away from her truck. The man’s eyes open wide to see the beauty’s different color of eyes. She gives him a wink with her yellow orb and puts the gear into reverse. “Kiss Kiss,” she said to the life guard and heads back to the freeway to begin her new life in LaLa land. Chuckling to herself she ponders on the thought of becoming a movie star while searching out to stay in a hotel for a couple of days until she looked for a job. She throws away the business card of Burbank movie studios and yelps out, “No one will write my story!” She realizes with a smile on her lips California may give her opportunities in life; but will the state recognize before its too late that it was being invaded by a spiritual spitfire from the wooded lands of Ohio.
Picture By: keeperofstories.blogspot.com
This story was created on WordPress and will soon be in my editors fingers for publication. Even though the title is Poco Celeste, the story will be part of my series to Slingshot and will hold the title of: “Slingshot Baby” Kiss Kiss to all my readers who have been following this story from beginning to end~ It would make my heart soar to the heavens to hear your comments about reading Poco Celeste!~
The spiritual Indian girl crawls to the top of the cliff and when she stands up she is mesmerized by the clear view of the ocean blue. The wind seems to have picked up when she pulls out her slingshot in the fading sunlight. The minute she places her hand around the handle of her choice of weapon, years of memories flood her mind putting her into a mystical trance of her past experiences. The cowgirl’s subconscious begins to fill her mind of her long lost mother, father, an all the childhood memories living with the earth. Even the story of her history in Alabama with her hickey friend Ernie and Ringo the raccoon presented themselves. She takes deep breaths of the coastal wind and feels strange as Ghost her magical white horse spirit races across her memory. The recollection of the gelding she found in the woods one day running wild and free brought smiles of unconditional love in her heart. The half breed whispers her soft words out of love and respect to her faithful friend, she grins with joy to have cherish-able memories consume her. Instantly the pictures stop to give Celeste a few moments to deal with all the flashbacks. Her head is on overload when a pain knocks on her temples. Picture after picture clicks in and out of Henry’s face with speed. She whispers out “Papa,” with tears in her eyes as she holds her temple to ease the reality of what is happening to her. Instant retrospection of her savior’s face comes out to play as vivid and treasure moments showers themselves upon her spirit until his death. The Indian is reliving all her moments of life alone with Chief her draft horse and the last deed of her giving the equine up to the old witchy woman in the woods. Celeste recognizes the signs of maxing out on pictures of her past, she bellows out in agony too the ocean wind. Her hand is clutched tightly on the handle of her slingshot, while her left hand squeezes her grandmother’s sea shell.
Celeste feels like she is freaking out and tries to gather control with all her might. The cowgirl drops to her knees and shakes out her long golden color of hair in the wind, and tries to get a grip on her emotions as the fragmentary pictures speed clicks to one memory to the next. With loving devotion she remembers her grandfather’s parenthood lessons, and his skills of survival he passed on to her with unconditional patience and love. Mr. Spencer replaces Henry’s face as her childhood private Tudor who took on the task to educate with open opinions and respect for her belief’s in her Indian heritage. Parts of her believe without the scholar she would have fallen prey to bullying in school. She grins with glee the memory of racing in his corvette on her first night out as a lady, and all the marvelous stimulating conversations they had under a bomb fire. Peter’s precious smile takes the place next in line. She reminiscences about the child of light’s tender moment of playing the piano before his death, and then the horrible moment in the woods afterwards. The strange occurrence of hearing spiritual voices inside her head made her want to rip Westin apart after Peter’s death. She blinks her eyes and begins to relive the tender moments of Westin her first lover who brought her into womanhood. His handsome face makes her heart melt to touch him once again. She whispers out a blessing to Westin for a beautiful life with his new family, as she wipes away her sad tears of recall. His face slips away into Damn dog and their happy times together. The final memory of her friend dying in the old lady’s house made her blink her wet eyes back to reality and takes note the beautiful color of sunset. Last but not least Gary’s soulful heart envelops her with beauty beyond her imagination. She knows not why she is being overwhelmed with recognition; but goes with the flow until her anamnesis fades to give freedom in her mind for a new day in the sun. Celeste stands up and begins the process of completing her Scottish grandmother’s request.
The minute she places the sea shell into her slingshot, and draws back the rubber band as far as it can go; she hears her spiritual guides begin to chat in Cherokee. “I am honored grandmother to be the one to send back the shell you found on this beach long ago. May your spirit be one with this shell to be free at heart.” She hears the child like laughter of the “Little People” folklore tale who caused mischief upon her early days of childhood, and smiles. She sends the sea shell soaring through the wind and watches the tiny object disappear into the sea of waves forever more.
In the year of nineteen seventy-five, the nineteen year old pulls into a parking lot off the coast of Santa Barbara. Celeste turns off her engine, and sits for a few moments staring at the crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean. Her grin is beaming with satisfaction to complete her long road of travels, “Well I made it.” She said as she opens her glove compartment box to pull out the sea shell. Instantly out tumbles a little pretty green box with a yellow ribbon wrapped around it. “What the heck,” she comments in puzzlement and catches the box before it hits the floor. She scrunches up her brow trying to remember if she put the box in there herself. Quiet minutes ticked by while the cowgirl scans the small box and decides to open the present. A little note hid the treasure when opening, and when she pulls out the paper slowly her mouth hits the floor in surprise. She reads the tiny letter, “In memory for my Goddess with Two colored Eyes.” She caress the outer rim of the box with a smile on her lips. Inside the tiny box lays a pair of post earrings weighing over a half a carat a piece. The cowgirl is overwhelmed by the sight of the deep, rich color emerald bursting forth it’s mystery inside the princess facet cut gem, and sheds a tear when her eyes captures the brilliant color of Imperial Topaz. It’s seventy six facets of golden orange sparkles out to be recognized and honored her different eye colors. “Gary Sun, you fabie man for blessing me with earth’s stones in a sneaky way. I will treasure you’re gift always, I humbly thank you.” Reluctantly, she places her gift back into the glove box from her Texas lover, and pulls out her Scottish grandmother’s sea shell. She lovingly strokes the object and blesses the seashell that started her course of travels with money in her pocket.
For several hours the half breed sits on the beach staring into nothingness caressing her shell. She knows her time is near to climb the cliffs to send back her promised task back to the ocean it came from. Her soul feels lifeless listening to the music of crashing waves and the scent of saltwater. “I can’t think sister ocean about serious stuff since your hypnotic energy allows me to think of nothing.” She giggles too herself an ads, “I will make sure to spend plenty of time too soak in you’re beauty; however, I will wait for the last human to leave before venturing upwards that there cliff to watch the sunset.” She is sitting on the soft sand in her Indian light weight buckskin clothing with fringe, and moccasins cross legged watching the people leave the beach after spending a marvelous day with love ones. Her red and yellow beaded headband makes the Californian’s take a double glance at the golden hair Indian girl sitting alone in her comfortable position as they walk pass the Indian girl. Two honorable eagle feathers are dancing in partnership with her long hair as the warm coastal wind blows upon her peaceful soul. Celeste sits silently observing surfer’s on the Pacific Ocean until the last of humans vacated the sandy beach. Just observing the young men maneuver their banana shape boards on the ocean made her think to give the sport a try; Nevertheless, she did have reservations since watching the water swallow mankind off they’re boards might be something to second guess the power of water. And at one point Celeste caught herself screaming out for their safety when the surfers disappeared in the waters.
After a while, the gentle warm winds of the evening blew it’s breeze upon the Indian’s soul as she eagle eyes the many palm trees. She feels a sudden urge that time has come to complete her Scottish grandmother’s promised deed. She stands and brushes the sand away with her hand from her clothing, and bends down to pick up her trusty slingshot. It takes her a few moment to reach the rock wall an inserts her fingers into rock crevice to climb the massive cliff. She says a silent prayer to bless her sure footed actions while reaching the top before the setting sun. She takes a deep breath and without fear she begins to climb the tall rock wall upwards with skill.
A community of readers
A frustrated writer, who is her own worst enemy
We are not far from one another: there is a deep connection between spirit, animal, nature, humanity, clouds ....
BEN GONZALES' BLOG
Just another WordPress.com site
From hill to sea
Daily Nourishment For Goal Achievement, Success, and Life
"I never know what I think about something until I read what I've written on it." -- William Faulkner
... and happy thoughts
Poetry and Questions For Life
“Be Wild. That is how you clear the River.” ― Clarissa Pinkola Estés,
Vínculos entre el español y el inglés
Minding other people’s language. A lot.
where any Jane or Joe can find common ground
Award Winning Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy with a killing edge.
My life and everything that touches it....
Journey from picture taker to photographer