Storytelling Theme Analysis

So.

In the beginning, there was nothing. Just the water.

Coyote was there, but Coyote was asleep. That Coyote was asleep and that Coyote was dreaming. When that Coyote dreams, anything can happen.

I can tell you that.

“In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep—”

“Wait a minute,” said Robinson Crusoe.

“Yes?”

“That’s the wrong story,” said Ishmael. “That story comes later.”

“But it’s my turn,” said the Lone Ranger.

“But you have to get it right,” said Hawkeye.

“And,” said Robinson Crusoe, “you can’t tell it all by yourself.”

Lionel had made only three mistakes in his entire life, the kinds of mistakes that seem small enough at the time, but somehow get out of hand. The kinds that stay with you for a long time. And he could name each one.

“You used to sell televisions and stereos at Bursum’s, too.”

“Yeah, and there’s the difference. I used to sell that crap. But I don’t anymore. I got out and made something of myself. Lionel’s never going to get out. Hell, another couple of years and he’ll be back on the reserve running for council. Besides, you know how I feel about you.”

“It’s one of the reasons I’m going to Blossom.”

Sergeant Cereno leaned back in the chair and slowly swung it from side to side. “All right, Ms. Jones. These four Indians . . . what did they look like?”

“Like I said. They were Indians. Old ones.”

“How old would you say?”

“I don’t know . . . four, five hundred years . . .”

What a stingy person, says First Woman, and that one packs her bags. Lots of nice places to live, she says to Ahdamn. No point in having a grouchy GOD for a neighbor.

And First Woman and Ahdamn leave the garden.

All the animals leave the garden.

Maybe I’ll leave a little later, says Old Coyote.

You can’t leave my garden, that GOD says to First Woman. You can’t leave because I’m kicking you out.”

In the morning, before the sun was up, Alberta went outside. The blanket was folded and waiting on the wood table. The pickup was sitting in a small lake where the outhouse used to be, the water above the wheels and the doors. The air was clear, and Alberta could see all the way to the mountains and across the prairies until the land outran itself.

The sky! shouts the little man. Hallelujah! A gift from heaven. My name’s Noah, and you must be my new wife.

I doubt that, says Changing Woman.

“Nice jacket,” Billy had told him.

“Damn right it is,” said George.

“Thought you just liked new things,” said Latisha, wiping down a table.

“It’s history,” said George, rolling his shoulders in the jacket. “Most old things are worthless. This is history.” […]

That night when Latisha got home, George was sitting in front of the television with Christian curled up on his lap. He still had on the jacket. Latisha hadn’t even seen it coming. George turned the television off, got out of the chair as if he was getting up to get a cup of coffee, grabbed Latisha by her dress, and slammed her against the wall. And before she realized what was happening, he was hitting her as hard as he could, beating her until she fell.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” he kept shouting, timing the words to the blows.

So that Thought Woman takes off her nice clothes, and that one gets into the River.

Whoa! says Thought Woman. That is one cold River. This must be a tricky River.

Swim to the middle, says that tricky River. It is much warmer there.

So Thought Woman swims to the middle of that River and it is warmer there.

This is better, says Thought Woman, and she lies back on the River and floats with the current. Thought Woman floats on that River, and that one goes to sleep.

I am very sleepy, says Thought Woman, and then she goes to sleep.

Hee-hee, says that River. Hee-hee.

By the time Lionel turned to walk down Fourth Street, he had divided the remainder of his life into a series of manageable goals. First, he would resign his position at Bursum’s. Bursum had been good to him and he hated to leave the man in the lurch, but after he explained to Bill how he wanted to get on with his life, he was sure that Bill would understand. And there would be no need to mention that he had never received a raise in all the years he had worked there.

And then Portland and the rest of the Indians began to shoot back, and soldiers began falling over. Sometimes two or three soldiers would drop at once, clutching their chests or their heads or their stomachs.

John Wayne looked down and stared stupidly at the arrow in his thigh, shaking his head in amazement and disbelief as two bullets ripped through his chest and out the back of his jacket. Richard Widmark collapsed facedown in the sand, his hands clutching at an arrow buried in his throat.

“Jesus!” said Bursum, and he stabbed the remote even harder.

Charlie had his hands out of his pockets, his fists clenched, keeping time to the singing. His lips were pulled back from his teeth, and his eyes flashed as he watched his father flow through the soldiers like a flood.

“Get ’em, Dad,” he hissed.

Well. Old Woman watches Young Man Walking On Water. She watches him stomp his feet. She watches him yell at those Waves. She watches him shout at that Boat. So, she feels sorry for him. Pardon me, she says. Would you like some help?

There you go again, says Young Man Walking On Water. Trying to tell me what to do.

Well, says Old Woman, someone has to. You are acting as though you have no relations. You shouldn’t yell at those happy Waves. You shouldn’t shout at that jolly Boat. You got to sing a song.

Lionel waited until Charlie’s car disappeared down the road. “So,” he said to Alberta, “you in town for the weekend?”

“That’s right,” said Alberta. “Figured I’d give Norma a hand.”

“With what?”

“With the cabin,” said Norma. “You can help, too.”

Lionel stopped what he was doing and looked at Norma and then he looked at the dam. “You’re not serious?”

“Sure she is, brother,” said Latisha.

“Won’t take much,” said Norma. “We’ll get Harley’s truck and drag as many logs as we can back up here, and what we’re short, we can cut and bring in.”

“That’s a lot of work,” said Lionel.

“My mother did it,” said Norma. “Did it all by herself.”

Alberta set her feet in the mud and put her hands on her hips. “You can help or you can sell televisions.”

“Okay, okay, here goes,” says Coyote. “In the beginning, there was nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“That’s right,” says Coyote. “Nothing.”

“No,” I says. “In the beginning, there was just the water.”

“Water?” says Coyote.

“Yes,” I says. “Water.”

“Hmmmm,” says Coyote. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I says, “I’m sure.”

“Okay,” says Coyote, “if you say so. But where did all the water come from?”

“Sit down,” I says to Coyote.

“But there is water everywhere,” says Coyote.

“That’s true,” I says. “And here’s how it happened.”