Coyote Azazello

Chapter One: The New Boy

Coyote and Caesar woke early before the sun was fully up. Coyote was a girl, and Caesar was her dog. Coyote was 12 years old, dirty, tan and half wild. Caesar was a German Shepard, 8 years old, strong, loyal and well-behaved. The girl, who mainly went by Coy, didn't think about the time before she had her dog, who she loved more than anyone else. She had a father who she loved, but she also knew life was easier when she stayed out of his way. Her father used to be a policeman, clean and tall and happy, but then her mother died, and her father left his job, grew a beard and started drinking. He slept a lot and didn't seem to care how Coy spent her days. As long as the school teacher didn't come calling or her father didn't catch her in the cemetery then things were almost alright.

The cemetery was Coy's favorite place, it was a big rambly lot of stones and trees, with statues and stained glass. She could hide there all day long. She knew the cemetery better than any other place. She knew the names on the gravestones, the people who regularly visited lost loved ones, and the old fox who lived under the tall oak tree in the Northwest corner. The days she didn't go to school she spent in the cemetery.

Years ago Coy had found an old stone mausoleum with the name Van Olsen deeply carved into the stone. The words were hidden beneath the remains of an old bird's nest and a wall of decaying ivy. The door was of heavy wood with large metal hinges and across the door was a latticed metal gate created to match the growing vines. One day while coming from her mother's grave she noticed how loose the chain across the gate was hung. She was able to reach through and push against the wooden door, opening it just enough to squeeze through. She looked around making sure no one was watching and wondered if she would be caught and punished, wondering if she would get stuck inside, wondering what she would see inside the big room. In the end, her excitement and curiosity pushed through, and Coy found her courage.

It was a tight space, but she was able to crawl and pull herself through, Caesar was right at her heels. On the inside, the room was dark but dry. The ground was stone, devoid of leaves and grass except for those she had dragged in. Apart from the doorway, the three other walls had stained glass windows, even the ceilings had windows. The stained glass was dark-colored but let in enough light to make the room easily visible. There was a long stone shelf that Coy knew contained the body. She was a little disappointed that there wasn't a skeleton on display for her to admire. Across the stone was the name Soren Magnus, and the dates 1783-1831. It was so old she thought, making her smile. Could she have been the only one who had been inside this stone room since 1831? That day became the first of hundreds upon hundreds of times that Coyote sat on the cool stone and looked at the clear lettering.

This morning Coy thought long and hard about crossing the fence and spending the day with her mother and Soren Magnus Van Olsen, but a look at the sky showed that rain was coming. She knew that even in the safety of the tomb she would still get very wet and very muddy. This was a dangerous game to play with her father. She saw her father's wallet on the counter and with a glance around the room she pulled free money for her lunch. She poured breakfast into the bowl for Caesar, grabbed her seldom used school bag and ran out the door. Caesar came out into the backyard, but she closed the fence in front of him. It hurt them both, but he couldn't come to school with her.

"Be good Caesar, take care of dad and don't get the kitchen muddy," she said with all sincerity and a smile; then she ran down the fence with Caesar racing alongside. She kept running even when he met his wall. It wasn't fair to rub her freedom in his face by walking slowly away.

Coy got to the school early before any of the other students and before most of the teachers as well. She didn't want to go to the classroom yet, Mr. Fischer always lectured her about her attendance. She went to the bathroom and remembered to wash her face and hands. She ran her hands through the tangles of her hair before tying it back. Coy was glad to see her shirt was relatively clean. Her jeans could have stood up on their own, but she thought they were best that way. Her shoes were nothing but holes but she had lost her new ones somewhere and would have to make due with these for now. Once she was ready for school, she went back outside to listen to the thunder approach and watch the happy, clean faces of her classmates arrive. She did this from the big walnut tree across the play yard. During lunch, the teachers would yell at you if you tried to climb it, but this was still her own time and teachers were still busy getting their lessons ready and drinking deep from their coffee mugs.