A Tale Told In Arizona

 

            “I don’t care what he told the child, no matter what he says, it came out of the earth in a cave, Thish,” that which is Elod reminded the other, though neither one of them had forgotten the Golden Frog for one second. “Cave or mine, it makes no difference!”
            “I don’t need to mention, Thish, that by rights, earned and given, all below the earth and in the earth is ours,” Elod moaned. “That human welpling uses it for a plaything! To make it worse, this infant is a female,” he spat!
            “There may be a remedy, Elod dear,” snickered that which is Thish.
 
            These two, for better or probably worse, were a version of the little ones, but who live in desert lands. They don’t wear pointy hats or any of that. They blend into the scenery in Arizona quite fine.  Some people, seeing one, thought they saw a gopher, or maybe a small monkey even. Everybody knows them but won’t say it. Talking always gets mankind into trouble with these twisters. They’re always on the lookout to initiate a contract or fulfill one with all the profits going to themselves, naturally.
            For lack of other accommodation, they were huddled in an abandoned badger den, near old John Chee’s little goldmine.  They liked to be near the mine, being a great big opening into the underworld as it was.
            Also, they liked to stay close to Julia’s little stream, called by some “Windy Way.” These two were able hand-fishers. They had been living on minnows, small trout, and some water insects, it must be admitted. Of course, there was plenty of drinking water.  You’d almost think that these two should be contented. Their needs appeared to be small and well met.
 
            “We could play some version of the name game with whichever one has authority,” croaked Thish. “Though simple, it often does the trick!”
            “Yes true,” admitted Elod, “but the thing that irks me and keeps me awake is that one of us surely made the Golden Frog and put him in the wall of the mine for safe keeping. Then this Jessie, this great hero of mankind, has a kind of rodeo with an ensorcelled “bull”, and out pops the Golden Frog and he snaffles it up right under our noses!”
            They did spend a lot of time complaining. Their speech probably sounded like some sort of insect trilling or rasping noise to man, or woman. And just like Coyote they said whatever was most convenient to themselves without troubling the truth much at all.
            “Those birds down there in the cage know who is the authority in the house, and are too stupid to evade our questions,” Elod said. “I say we quiz them tonight!”
            “Yes,” hissed Thish. He did enjoy hissing.
            So, when the sky darkened and the people all settled into bed, two small brown naked whatevers hopped and wriggled their way down to Jessie and Beth’s hen’s little enclosure. They commenced whistling and growling to unsettle the hens.
            “Come out, chickies, come out and speak.  We don’t want your blood tonight. Just a bit of information, from one small creature to another, so to speak,” crooned Elod.
            “We’re not coming out. What do you want to know,” asked the boldest hen, the black one. Her name was Martha maybe. Or Minerva.
            “Who is Master or Mistress here, chickie, who shall we speak to if we need the one with the power to grant or withhold?”
            “Well.  Surely. There is one here, old and powerful, with the strength to grant or withhold. The old woman is small but full of wisdom.  Be careful.  She is not often tripped up.” The black hen seemed a little too amused, but these two plotters were not paying much attention, having gotten the information they craved.
            “She sleeps in the old Hogan out there, even now,” added the black hen. (I’m not sure if a hen could be accused of contrivance, but possibly?)
 
            “No time like the present, Thish,” said Elod already on his way to meet the Mistress there. “Indeed,” hissed Thish catching up. “Let us wake her!”
 
            It didn’t take long for these two to squeeze under the door of the Hogan out in the back of the yard. It was a loosely hung door.  Old style.
            Inside, it was dark. Two were breathing there. Perhaps the hen forgot to mention Billy. Possibly Billy had slipped her mind.
            “Speak your business here, earthborn, hole-get.  Why do you trouble my Mistress?  Why should I not kill you?” asked a voice like wind in dry grass, so unaccustomed to speaking aloud it was.
            Billy seized Thish by the back of his neck, lion fashion. “Now speak, or die,” said Billy. How he managed to speak with a mouthful of that is anyone’s guess.
            Elod speaking, “we wish to wake your Mistress and play a game with her for possession of the Golden Frog. We have a claim to it, but she has possession of it. If she should win the game, we will trouble her no further, but if she fails she must hand it over!”
            Billy tightened his grip. “You overstep dirtling!” Elod quaked beside them.
            Someone began singing a little song.  Someone who was on the bed began the song. The air in the room became transformative, lively, electric. Someone laughed. Someone growled. She purred. The song changed and grew. It echoed in the Hogan.
            Then the Great Cat spoke.
            “I take from you two earthborn the calling of the gold. You will be blind to it and deaf to it. I take from you greed, avarice and unwarranted desire. You will live. But you will live for the pleasure of life only. I take untruth from your lips. You would do well to learn thanksgiving!           
            “So be it!” She opened her mouth and hissed a great long terrible breath. Something flew by and through the wall.  Something horrible and intangible left, leaving a kind of emptiness in its wake. Air sucked out of the room, and then snapped back!
            “Spit it out Billy. Let it run away,” said his Mistress with a soft little laugh.
            Thish and Elod ducked their heads.  They bowed, they groveled. They thanked the Great Cat for sparing their lives.  Then they remembered their feet and sprang back under the door and ran out into the darkness.
            “Well, Billy, I believe I've tied those two up tightly enough to keep em! Let’s hope so!” she laughed. “Now, maybe we can get back to sleep, if we try to.”

            Aunt Julia yawned, patted the bed beside herself, and was soon asleep.

All the rest of this big ball of yarn.