The Furious Spinner

We're going to be incommunicado for a time, so here's a Solstice gift—it's an excerpt from my novel LeFaye, a work in progress. Morgan LeFaye lives in a small French village with a young woman, Kay, whose mother was killed by the inquisitor. (LeFaye goes by the name Ana.) This excerpt is about their celebration of Winter Solstice in the basement of a castle in ruins. It's from the Kay's viewpoint.

LeFaye: Winter Solstice

We made cookies. All of us. We shaped the dough into stars, moons, sun, rabbits, wolves, birds. We slapped them onto an old platter and put them in the oven. Some of them burned, some of them did not get quite done, but we dumped them all into a bowl, made more tea, then sat together around the fire.

The world became silent except for the crackling of the fire.

'When I was a little girl,' Genevieve said, 'my mother told me the world was made out of stories, and if we didn’t keep telling the stories, the world would disappear.'

'So what stories did she tell you?' Mrs. Droit asked.

Suddenly a gust of wind blew through the entrance. I wondered how the wind could get down here. We all looked over at the door.

A bundled figure stood on the threshold, shadows moving across the furry coat.

'Come,' Ana said. 'You are welcome on this longest night and any night.'

Wolf stood, giving his place to the newcomer.

'My thanks,' she said, dropping her hood to reveal bushy hair, visibly red even in the firelight. She sat. Jean handed her a cup of tea.

'You are a stranger,' Mrs. Droit said. 'Is it safe for you in these woods?'

Red glanced at Wolf, then looked over at Mrs. Droit.

'I am usually safe in these woods,' she said.

'We were putting the world back together with stories,' Jean said.

We all laughed. Except Red. She smiled and it seemed the smile went all the way to her ears. I blinked. Her ears which looked pointed. And hairy.

'Stories, yes,' she said. 'Like the one about the Fox who created the World.'

'Let’s hear that one,' I said.

'Long ago, Fox Woman lived alone in the world,' Red began. 'Oh, not completely alone. She had the Trees, of course. The Stone People. The Flowers and Herbs. But she wanted company which was a little more, how shall we say it, a little more gregarious. She could never get the Stone People to tell her a story. They knew so very much but storytelling is not their way. And Trees are just so busy being trees. So she got up one morning, walked to the East side of the Mountain, where the Earth is black, you know the place, by the stream. She dug in the black clay earth and shaped herself a bird. She blew on this bird and said, Crow, crow, this is your cue! Come to life and share a story or two.

'And lo and behold,' Red continued. 'Crow came to life. And she did have lots of stories to tell. In fact, she couldn’t get Crow to shut-up. She was always caw, caw, cawing away. It began to make her crazy. She longed for the solitude she had with the Stone People. But Crow was her creation, she couldn’t just get rid of her. She made other crows, so that they could be with each other and tell stories. That worked, for the most part. They walked around Fox Woman’s housing, telling tales on each other and digging for shiny things in the dirt.

'Fox Woman decided to try again,' Red told us. 'This time she went to the South side of the Mountain, where it is so craggy you can barely get a foot hold. She took pieces of stone which had fallen away from the mountain--with the mountain’s permission, of course—and created Cat. She lit a fire under her and said, Cat, come with me and what wonders you’ll see! Cat shook herself and stepped out of the flames and followed Fox Woman home. As you can imagine, Cat had nothing to say: until it was time for dinner. Then she, too, wouldn’t shut up.

'So Fox Woman once again felt lonely, even as she watched Cat chase Crow and Crows chase Cat. This time she went to the West side of the Mountain where the Upper Stream meets the Lower Stream. You know the place. Where the dirt is all shades of color. Fox Woman shaped Frog out of the colored sand and set him in the water and said, Frog, Frog, jump to life and leave this bog! Well, as you can imagine, Frog came to life and walked home willingly with Fox Woman. Crow and Cat thought he was quite beautiful, but Fox Woman was once again disappointed. You see, Frog talked all the time, but he only had one thing to say: Croak, Croak, Croak.'

We all laughed. I glanced around and saw more people had joined us. I did not know any of them, yet all seem faintly familiar. The room smelled of musk.

'So did she ever find someone?' Jean asked.

'Well, she did not give up,' Red said. 'This time she went to the North side of the mountain where all the Oaks grow. She asked if she could have some of their discarded twigs, and they agreed. She huddled under the trees and made Humans, a woman and a man. She pressed them against her bosom and said, Humans, humans, come with me and tell a story or three! Just as before, the tiny Humans came to life and Fox Woman brought them home. They were good company at first. They had lots to say. But after a time, she could not get in a word. The Man and Woman knew everything! And they did not know how to tell a story. The Man would start it and Woman would say, That’s not the way I heard it. Or the Woman would be in the middle of a thrilling tale and the Man would say, You couldn’t tell a tale to save your life.'

We laughed. Jean passed around the cookie tray.

'Finally, the others got together and suggested Fox Woman create one of her own kind. She had not thought of that! That very day she began pulling out her own hair and weaving it to create another Fox. Three days went by and finally she had her mate. She breathed on him and said, Fox, Fox, come to life and find yourself a willing wife!'

Red smiled and went on, 'Well, he came to life all right! He was beautiful and smart and helped Fox Woman with her chores and he had plenty of stories to tell. But--'

She paused and we all leaned forward to hear the rest.

'He was always hungry! He ate everything in sight. Fox Woman cooked and cooked and Fox Man cooked and cooked and still he was hungry. One day, Fox Woman saw him eying a crow. No, no, she said. You cannot eat my creations! I cannot help myself, he said, and began running around the Fox Woman’s cottage chasing crows. Luckily the crows could run fast enough, but Fox Woman didn’t know how long that would last. One day she found Fox Man eating a Crow egg. She was horrified. So she returned to the place where the black clay was and brought some home. Once there she fashioned wings for the crows so they could fly away and therefore avoid the Fox Man’s grasp. They cawed their good-bye to Fox Woman as they flew away.

'But Fox Man was still hungry,' Red continued. 'He went after Cat next who was too lazy to run from him. Fox Woman snatched Cat from the Fox and took her back to the South side of the mountain. She fitted her with sharp stone teeth and put her in the fire until she had grown big and strong. Cat licked Fox Woman’s face, then roared a good-bye and leapt up onto the rocks. When Fox Woman got home, Fox Man was running after Frog. She took Frog back to the Water. She made him longer legs so he could hop, then set him back in the water. He croaked his good-bye and hopped away. By the time she got home, Fox Man had the Woman in one hand and the Man in the other and was trying to decide who to stuff in his mouth first. She slapped Fox Man’s hands until he dropped the Humans. Fox Woman took them back to the Oak trees. She asked the Oaks for bigger branches and they gave her their permission. Soon the Humans were big and strong and Fox Man could no longer eat them. Man and Woman held Fox Woman close. She left them and returned home. Once there, she shook her finger at her mate. You are not a good husband! she said. You are always hungry and always trying to eat my creations! I am no longer a wife to you. She began pulling away some of Fox Man’s hairs. And worse, your stories are boring! she cried. She pulled the hairs away until Fox Man was very small. She made his nose long and pointed and took away his language so he could not make excuses for his behavior. In the end, she felt sorry for him, so she gave him a handsome bushy tail. She sent him out into the forest and said, You will never be a great hunter! And so he never has been. And that is why Crows fly, Cats roar, Frogs hop, and Humans are taller than foxes. And why foxes have bushy tails!'

'That was a good story,' Genevieve said.

I could almost feel the world coming together. I looked around the room again and wondered who all these people were. Someone all in black, with a pointed black nose. A woman in white with a high forehead and hair that almost looked like horns when she turned a certain way.

'This night is long,' Ana said. 'And the world complex. Another tale to tell?'

And so someone began a story.

'Gather round,' he said. 'Long ago. . .'

And we listened. I barely noticed when people came and went. How food came and disappeared, appeared and was eaten. We never ran out of anything. Once or twice Jean came and sat next to me. Once I fell to sleep on Wolf’s shoulder.

I heard about the sisters who let an old bear sit by their fire on cold winter nights. He did this year after year, until one night he caught his fur on the door latch, and they saw gold underneath. He had been cursed and forced to live as a bear until the girls broke the enchantment. At the end of that tale, a big burly man said, 'I have heard that tale before, only he was a prince who one night caught his skin on the door latch and the sisters saw fur beneath. He had been cursed to live as a man instead of a bear.'

Heads nodded all around. I laughed and stretched out beneath the bench near the fire. I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I thought I saw the bushy tale of a fox. Or wolf? I smiled and closed my eyes again.

It seemed everyone told a story. Even Mrs. Droit. She stood in front of the fire, her voice strong, and told a story about skeleton woman who could not rest until she found her cheating husband and put him in the grave next to her. She laughed as she told the story of the restless bones, and we laughed, too.

'Once she had those old bones in the grave next to her,' Mrs. Droit said, 'she was quite content, until she realized that—as usual—her husband took up too much room. He snored. He talked too much, especially for a dead man, and he still didn’t know how to dance. So finally she picked up her old bones and moved out. And she’s been happily dead ever since.'

We all clapped. Then Ana stirred the fire until it flared up.

'It is time,' she said.

We followed her up the stairs. Ana, then Genevieve Boulet, Mrs. Droit, Jean, me, Wolf, and our guests. Around the steps in the dark. An owl hooted. I heard growls, yawns, meows. I did not look back. I could not see anything in the dark anyway. Once upon the terrace, we stood apart, but together, as night began turning into day. As gray washed away the black.

I glanced around. One by one, it seemed, our guests were stepping back into the forest.

Then a sliver of red crested the hill. Mrs. Droit clapped.

'Come light!' Ana called. 'Bless us with your warmth! Don’t be afraid! It is time to be born!'

And the sliver of red got bigger, until we had to turn away, and red gold light spilled across the hills and mountain, across the terrace and our faces. Everything seemed possible in that moment. Mrs. Droit looked like her old self, only different. Mrs. Boulet laughed. Jean and Wolf did a little dance together.

In the woods, animals howled and snarled and roared and sang.

I swear Fox Woman winked at me, then melted away. A red fox ran into the woods.

Ana looked around and seemed to take it all in, and she smiled, one of her all encompassing, beautiful smiles.

The sun came up.

We made tidy the castle kitchen. Then we went our separate ways home, wishing each other a Merry Solstice and a Happy New Year!
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