If the goal had been to make Opossum stop boasting, the trick had been a success. In fact, Opossum had never been quieter…or more reclusive. How could he let himself be seen by anybody after what had happened to his tail? Just thinking about it and of everyone laughing at him makes him feel faint. So, he only leaves his house at night, when as few other animals can see his tail as possible.
He is in a tree eating persimmons when he hears a voice call his name. He looks around but cannot locate the source of the voice. He hears it once more and realizes that the voice is coming from high above his head. He looks up and sees one of the Ani’tsutsa stars looking at him. He very nearly faints.
“There is a dance going on tonight, Utsetsasdi,” the star says to him. “Are you not going to attend?”
Opossum shakes his head.
“Why not?” the star asks. “Are you still upset about what they did to your tail?”
“Of course I am!” Opossum growls. “Wait…how do you know about that?”
“I am a star. I watched,” the star says simply. “It was cruel of them, but you still have your tail, and it is still of use to you.”
Opossum looks down at his tail, which was wrapped around the tree branch he was on. The star makes a good point. In fact, his tail was better at grasping branches now that there was no fur to get in the way. “You have a point, Atsutsa,” Opossum says, “but I miss my beautiful tail. I would trade all of its mobility to have my furry tail back.”
“That might be true, but you can’t. The only thing you can do is accept this change and move on from it.”
“What do you know of change, Atsutsa?” Opossum asks. “You live in the sky as an eternal picture, unmoved by time.”
“Do you know how the Ani’tsutsa came to be, Utsetsasdi?” the star asks.
“I know you were human once,” Opossum says. “That is why you are called Atsutsa.”
“That’s right. There were seven of us, and we played chunkey together. One day, our mothers decided to punish us for playing chunkey instead of doing our chores, so we decided to leave forever and become stars.”
“But that was your choice,” Opossum says.
“That we made while young and foolish,” the star counters. “By the time we had grown homesick, it was too late to go back. We miss our families, but we cannot change what has been done.”
“You said there were seven of you, but there are only six in the sky. What happened to the seventh?” Opossum asks.
“His mother managed to grab him before he could fully ascend to the sky,” the star says. “She pulled him down with such force that he was buried in the ground. Now, he is the pine tree, and he grows tall so that he can still be with us.”
“How unfortunate,” says Opossum.
“It was a long time ago; we’ve grown to appreciate our new lots in life. There are enough stars here that we do not get lonely, and the pine tree has had many saplings over the years. Sure, we may occasionally wonder what could have been, but that does not stop us from finding happiness in what we have.”
“I see,” says Opossum, musing over the star’s words.
“You will get through this change just as you have before, Siqua.”
Opossum startles. He has not heard himself called that in a long time. He smiles up at the Ani’tsutsa. “You’re right,” he says. “My tail just distracted from my teeth anyway.”
Epilogue
Soon enough, Opossum was back to his old, proud ways. He stopped avoiding other animals, and even befriended Terrapin. They would go to the persimmon tree together and eat persimmons. Opossum would eat one, then yell “Sali!” before throwing one down for Terrapin. When Terrapin heard Opossum yell, he would open his mouth so wide to catch the persimmon that his eyes would close. One day, a wolf saw this, and decided to steal the persimmons that Opossum threw down for Terrapin. Terrapin grew angry at Opossum, thinking he was tricking him by yelling “Sali” and not throwing a persimmon.
When Opossum realized what was happening, he searched for the largest, ripest persimmon he could find. “Sali!” He yelled, throwing it with all his might. The wolf leaped up and snatched it, but the overripe persimmon was sticky, and caught in his throat. Opossum threw a smaller persimmon to Terrapin as the wolf suffocated. When Terrapin finally opened his eyes and saw the dead wolf, he convinced himself that he must have killed it. Opossum started to correct him but stopped himself. Terrapin had been at the party where his tail was shaved; Terrapin had laughed at him. Wolves travel in packs, so more wolves will come after whoever killed this one.
“How brave of you to have killed that wolf, Dagasi!” Opossum exclaimed, a sly grin creeping onto his face. “You should make hominy spoons out of his ears as a trophy!”
Author’s Note
This was the hardest story to write. Both because it is the finale to my Storybook, and because it does not follow the storytelling style of the previous two stories. This is meant to be a different sort of myth – a myth meant to teach, rather than explain. It has elements from the other myths, referencing two other myths, but the focus is on Opossum, and his development from the events of the previous stories. I wanted to make the Ani’tsutsa a sort of stand-in for the reader. Just like the stars, you see Opossum go through his stories, but only as an observer. The myth they refer to is a myth explaining how the Pleiades constellation came to be, and why pine trees grow so tall. I always felt that the Ani’tsutsa would regret their decision after their anger cooled down, so I wrote the star as being able to relate to Opossum’s struggle.
Ani'tsutsa is the Cherokee name for the Pleiades constellation. Its most literal translation is "boys" (or "the boys") which is why Opossum calls the single star from that constellation Atsutsa, or "boy." "Ani" denotes a group of something. For example, the Cherokee people call ourselves Aniyvwiya, which means "principal people." Clan names also use "ani." The name for wolf clan is Aniwaya which would also be used to refer to a wolf pack.
The epilogue contains the word “Dagasi” (pronounced “Dox-see”) which means Terrapin. The word for turtle is different, but people mostly just use Dagasi to mean turtle anyway. It mostly just bugs me because in competitions you had to use the exact translation to get points. The epilogue is based on the myth “Why the Terrapin’s Back is Cracked.” In that myth, Opossum is there in the beginning and does kill the wolf, but in the Mooney text he does not suggest that Terrapin take credit. In the Mooney version that was all Terrapin’s idea, but I decided to make it more of Opossum’s doing, and to give him a motive to do so. I did this because I noticed that Opossum does not correct Terrapin when he thinks that he killed the wolf. You would think someone as proud as Opossum would not want someone else to steal credit for his accomplishment. That led me to think that Opossum must have known the wolves would want to avenge their packmate, and that is why he stayed quiet.
Bibliography
"Origin of the Pleiades and the Pine" from Myths of the Cherokee by James Mooney. Story Source.
"The Terrapin's Escape from the Wolves" from Myths of the Cherokee by James Mooney. Story Source.
Image Information
The Pleiades "Seven Sisters" Constellation from Wikimedia Commons.