The wind shifted, and Talking Coyote could smell death in the air. The trees, moments ago full of leaves and life, were stripped of their bark by hungry animals. No leaves remained on the trees. Turning circles, he could see hundreds of dead animals. All were emaciated and predators had marred none; they all died of starvation. It was still the same path he was on a moment ago, walking to his favorite trout stream, but it was also different.
Returning to the path toward the stream the smell of death almost made him gag. I need to get to the stream and wash my face. This has to be a dream.
From behind him came a voice: “It is not a dream, N’gsisak.”
Talking Coyote turned and Red Hair shape-shifted from a spruce tree to a man. He spoke again, “This is very real. They are all dying. You must help them.” Red Hair was dressed in only a breechclout, and his white skin, although tanned, was still a white man.
“I am not afraid of you, white man who speaks Lenape. You are not a danger to me.” If only Talking Coyote could convince his mind of that bravado. On the verge of cracking and running for his life, he decided to speak for some reason. “Why do you bother my dreams?”
“You are incorrect on three things. I speak Lenape because I am Lenape, not a white man. I am no danger to you, and I do not bother your dreams.” Red Hair smiled and sat in front of Talking Coyote. “Smoke with me, my son,” he said, as he removed a pipe from a plain leather bag. The pipe was anything but ordinary. It shined like the silver of a full moon on a still lake. It was not metal but actually made from water.
As Red Hair filled the pipe, Talking Coyote could see the tobacco being put into the pipe through its watery sides.
“Sit and Smoke with me, my son,” Red Hair repeated.
“If you do not bother my dreams, then why are you here now?” Talking Coyote said a bit too loud.
Red Hair smiled again as he lit the pipe with a flame that came from the end of his index finger. “Are you dreaming or are you walking to your favorite trout stream to fish for trout you do not need.” Smoke from the pipe drifted toward Talking Coyote as Red Hair exhaled in his direction. “Do you not dream only when you are asleep? If so, then you are not dreaming and I am not bothering your dreams,” he laughed. “You are awake. Smoke with me.”
