Ellen Datlow - The Beastly Bride

“The White Doe” is a French fairy tale that I always thought had a terrible ending for the poor princess — first a random prince falls in love with her picture, then he curses her by opening the door to her tower (though everyone warns him not to) and exposing her to sunlight for the first time, which leads to her transformation to deer form, then he shoots her with an arrow while she is in magical white doe form. and she still marries him! I thought I might let the princess voice some ambivalence toward her princely suitor and toward her “curses,” first being locked in a tower away from the sun, then being in animal form. It’s always fun to rewrite fairy tales with an eye toward giving those poor princesses a bit more freedom and authority.

Many years ago among the burnt hills and dry winds of the Southwest, there lived a girl named Valorosa and, though she didn’t know it yet, the trickster god of the native tribes. His name was Coyote, because he was one. Not just any coyote, mijita , my little one, but the biggest, cleverest, most beautiful coyote on the mesas. Coyote could trick anyone, even himself! Valorosa, on the other hand, had just turned fifteen, and she knew that she must be a woman because the priest at her quinceañera had said so. Her mother had named her “Valorosa” so that her daughter would know that she had valor , courage, and also valor , great value. Her father, who was a mostly good man with a big nose and a cruel voice, called Valorosa “Rosa,” his rosita , a lovely little Spanish rose with round red cheeks and shining dark hair. Her mother thought that Valorosa’s father had missed the point. But what can you do, when you marry a man because your papa makes you? You can give your daughter a good name and hope that un día she will live up to it. Las madres siempre esperan así, mijita —mamas always want such things for their daughters.

Valorosa was a proud girl, and fearless; she knew that she was meant for great things, or at least a great husband. After all, her father was the comandante of a great territory, and Valorosa knew that he was considered very important. Her mother told Valorosa that she would still be an important girl even if her father were a simple man with nothing more than a burro to his name, but Valorosa thought this was a bit silly. Jose Bañaco, down in the village, was a simple man with only a burro to his name, and no one thought very much of him .

Ahora. Ya al cuento . To the story. One day, Valorosa’s father heard news of trouble brewing among the tribes in a far-off corner of the territory. Since he was charged with keeping proper order in the name of His Majesty, the king of Spain, he immediately made preparations for travel to this troublesome native village. Before he left, he asked Valorosa: “ Mi rosita lindíssima, ¿no quieres nada de tu padre? ¿No quieres un regalo de los salvajes? ” “My pretty little Rose, don’t you want something from your father? Don’t you want a gift from the savages?” He told her that he would bring her some beautiful jewelry, perhaps a necklace made all of bright turquoise and shining silver. But Valorosa shook her head and asked if he could pick her some sand verbena flowers instead. She loved those hardy little pink blossoms that bloom in hot, sandy, barren places. Her father was taken back. “But you already have roses, mija !” he cried. “Beautiful roses, the only ones to be found in the whole territory, right here in our courtyard! Why, they were planted just for you.” But Valorosa asked again for the sand verbena blossoms, and finally her father promised to bring them for her.

When Valorosa’s father arrived in the Indian village that had been causing trouble, he and his men were very tired. The Indians seemed meek and sorry, and asked if he would only accompany their two head men, the chief and the medicine man, out into the hills. They wanted to speak with him, and then they wouldn’t cause any more mischief. The comandante agreed, and he followed the chief and the medicine man into the dry desert hills outside the village. Of course, these native men were not so stupid as the comandante thought. They had made a deal with Coyote, the trickster: they would bring the Spanish general out into the desert, and Coyote would give him a good scare, to teach him some respect.

Soon Valorosa’s father and the two Indians arrived on top of a big hill out in the desert. The two Indians lit a fire from dry brush and bade the comandante sit while they went hunting for a rabbit for their supper. The comandante sat down, nearly crushing a little sand verbena plant growing near his foot. “ Qué grosera , what a disgusting little flower,” he muttered to himself when he spotted it, wrinkling his nose at its sharp, tangy smell. But he was a dutiful father, so he leaned over to pluck one of the pretty little flower stems. Suddenly, he stopped and rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Only a few feet away, near the edge of the fire-light, was a beautiful vine of wild roses, draped over a thorny old mesquite bush. These were not just any roses, mijita ! They were in glorious full bloom, and they smelled like something from el Cielo —from heaven. Unable to believe his luck at finding this much more suitable flower, the comandante reached out and picked one of the roses. Immediately, a crackling, roaring voice cried: “THOSE ARE MINE!” It was Coyote. He had been making the roses grow as a way to pass the time while he waited for the Spanish comandante , and he had so amused himself that he hadn’t realized that the comandante had arrived.

The comandante began to quiver and shake. Like many men with military jackets and impressive mustachios, the comandante was really a bit of a coward at heart. “ Por favor, señor ,” he cried, trembling like a leaf in a dust storm. “ Por favor, ¡no me mate! ” “Please, sir, do not kill me!” “ Es sólo para mi hija, mi Rosa, la rosita de mi vida! ” “It’s only for my daughter, my rose, the little rose of my life!” Coyote, who realized now who this silly man must be, chuckled to himself so that the comandante couldn’t hear. “Well, ladrón , my petty thief,” he said (in a very cross, dangerous voice), “daughter or no, I will tell you this: those roses were my pride and joy! I cannot let you steal one from me without punishment, so here is what I will do. First, I will let you return to your home to kiss your woman and get your things in order. When seven suns have set, you must return to me and be my servant for ten years. After that, I will give you back to the desert.” With that, he let out a frightening, unearthly howl, and the comandante , that silly bobo , that fool, ran as fast as his legs could carry him away from the hill and the demon that lived on it. He didn’t stop running until he got back to the village, where he leapt onto his horse and rode back to his mansion, just as quick as a scared jackrabbit.

Coyote laughed to see the Spanish fool flee and was sure he had done a good job and taught the man some respect. He didn’t intend to make the comandante his servant — in fact, he didn’t care if the comandante returned at all! Satisfied, he went back to his lair to chew on quail bones and laugh a coyote laugh.