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Dreams, Dreams, Dreams

Dreams, Dreams, Dreams

Billie FuruichiBillie Furuichi

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00:00-29:37

The legend of Mt Shavano in the Saguach Range in Colorado, continues as AEthergis-the-Cat tells the story in Spanish, and argues with Pop God about details in the legend. Angela and her BFF, Jennifer attend their 10-year high school reunion at Crestone Charter School, where Mrs. Dalloway speaks of how life if just a dream.

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Billy Ruth Hopkins' Guruichi on KCIW 100.7 FM tells a fictional story about the love between Shavano and Angelita. They were caught by Angelita's father and tried to escape, but Angelita fell into a cave and disappeared. Shavano jumped into the cave and transformed into a snow angel. The story is being told at a reunion, and there are some unresolved details about Angela and Jennifer's friendship. The narrator acknowledges that details can get confused over time. This is Billy Ruth Hopkins' Guruichi on KCIW 100.7 on your FM dial right here in beautiful downtown Brookings where almost every day is a beautiful day and we can always choose to say yes. Life is indeed very, very good. This is a work of pure, unadulterated, feigned fiction. Sit back, suspend all disbelief, and let's see what these wild characters are up to. By the way, the music in the background is all by my grand-nephew, Samuel Rex Spivey. Thanks, Samuel. I appreciate your creativity and your spectacular imagination. Breaker, breaker. Pop God here. Okay, listeners, just to recap a bit. The Ute Chief's son, Shavano, fell madly in love with Angelita, daughter of Zapotec apple farmers. And as the sun descended over the three tall, snow-capped mountains of the Sawatch Range, they made passionate love their eternal devotion to the ends of the very earth. Ay, Shavano, mi amor, te quiero, te amaré al fin del mundo. Ay, Shavano, my love, I will love you until the ends of the universe. Angelita, Angelita, mi vida, te amaré eternamente, eternamente, doblado. Angelita, my life, I will love you eternally, eternally doubled, forever doubled. Oh, my dear friends, listen well as we jump in for one evening, just as the sun was descending over the three huge mountains of the Sawatch Range, they were discovered by Angelita's father, as they made love right there under the huge old apple tree in the middle of their parents' orchard and where they had carved a heart and etched their initials inside. Surely heartbreak was to follow as you will soon discover, but you will also come to understand that the red threads of true love can never really break since arcaíto is love itself and gravity is also love. Angelita's father discovered the lovers under the big old apple tree and he blew into a rage. Angelita and Shavano quickly threw on their clothes and tried to escape. Running up to the mountains, Angelita kept tripping over her dress. But little could quite keep up with Shavano. Her papa, hot on the trail, reached out and grabbed her hot black braids. Malcriada, malcriada, niña. Ay no, papá, ay no, papá. Por favor, amo a Shavano. Por favor, no me dejes de la vida. Shavano was ragged, her carriage tossed around like a chicken coop. Slammed and shoved and locked in tight, where she cried for help. Shavano managed to escape, but by then there was nothing left to do. When Angelita scaled the mountain arriving at the edge of the crystalline cave, she looked down and saw nothing but blackness. The helpless spirit simply gave up and she threw herself into the caves, never to be seen again. Yeah, papá, that's not true, that's not true. And besides, that's just one side of the story. Don't you remember what happened to Shavano? When he looks back, Angelita was gone. Yes, his heart was broken and yes, he believed she had abandoned him. But there's more to this tale than sadness and heartbreak. Get a century, papá. Our listeners need to hear what really happened. They need the whole story. Well, of course, it's just what I'm telling it from Shavano's point of view. How could Shavano know the truth, really? He was heartbroken and he believed that Angelita was the one who betrayed him. So now he just just hush and listen to my story. So Shavano dragged himself into a deep crevasse in one of the tallest peaks, gazed down to his crystalline caves and cried out in pain. You have abandoned me, Angelita. How could you leave me like this? He gazed into the sharp shards and crystals and they seemed to be calling him. Shavano, Shavano, come into our arms. We will hold you and keep you forever. We will never abandon you, Shavano. Fall into the safety of our crystalline arms. Well, well. ¿Cómo pudiera creer algo tan ridículo? How could anyone believe such a complete nonsense, Pop? Crystalline cave structures in a cave like that? They're the size of a thousand sharp knives. He never would have survived a fall like that. Well, this is a story, Asurges. Well, meh. The least you could do is... Hush, what did I tell you? Now, hush. And so Shavano did what the voices pleaded, throwing himself down, down, down into the blue and green and pink and aquamarine, crystalline arms, deeper into the shafts he crawled, further and further into the blackness as the crystal ceased to rise again. The following winter, Shavano was transformed into a snow angel, lifted up to the surface of the cave at the top of the mountain. He raised his arms triumphantly, declaring his forgiveness to the valley below. I shall bathe your womb, Angelita, Shavano cried. We shall meet again and forever be together, shedding our tears of eternal love onto the valley. Each springtime, our waters shall flow into the valley. My people and your people shall live in peace and prosperity. We shall have all abundant water for our crops, flowing from the three-faced fountain into the rivers. Our rivers shall be filled with plentiful fish. Deer and elk and fox and rabbit and wolf and eagle shall abide peacefully together, drinking from the same fountains and streams. Our people shall make eternal promises to live together in harmony, with no more hatred or fighting. There will always be more than enough fresh, clean water to drink, water for crops. We shall feast together each spring and honor our names, Shavano and Angelita. I am the angel of Shavano throughout history. And as Shavano lifted his snowy arm, the healing waters began to flow down, down, down, from the mountain top and into the fertile valley below. Angelita and the Zapotec people and the youth people, the promise of harmony, peace and regeneration was bonded throughout the valley. If Virgis was there too, weren't you, Virgis? Yes, poor Sebastian, of course. I have always been here, in one lifetime or another. Of course, Virgis, of course. And while I can't bring up every detail to mind, I do remember creating this story one starry night, where things would tell it over and over again around the campfire, in that big field just outside of the stone. Or in the great sand dunes national parks at Feast of Wonders. They would sing around the campfire and always make s'mores. Angela Pérez, their fourth brother, his mother Rosa, and Angela's mother, Westerna, Jennifer Gaylord, and her boyfriend, Chris, were there too. You would sometimes join in too. Clarissa, if I remember rightly, and of course, Grandma Gallo, on the left, was always there telling those crazy otherworldly recurring dreams and playing her guitar, singing Mexican folk songs with the high school Spanish teacher, Mr. Rowell. Wisteria and Zephyr both swooned over him. Ah, brilliant, I know, because I also swooned over him. Don't forget that Señor Rowell and I did that play together in Salida. But he was head over heels for Wisteria, much to my chagrin. Always the lover, never the beloved. Ethergis was always there too, weren't you, Ethergis? Yeah, por supuesto. I've been telling every layer of this story for centuries, as sparks from the campfire rose into the Colorado sky, merging with billions of stars. It's absolutely true, yeah. Something like that would be impossible to forget. We all sat around the campfire in that great field, to the efforts of Creston Colorado, making s'mores with my best friends Angela Perez and Jennifer Gaylord, and singing Mexican folk songs with the Spanish teacher, Mr. Cesar Rowell. Angela Wisteria's mother and Grandma Wanda were there too. I've been telling every layer of this story for centuries, as sparks from the campfire rose into the Colorado sky, merging with billions of stars. It's absolutely true. Something like that would be impossible to forget. It's absolutely true. Something like that would be impossible to forget. Well, now, let's see. Was there another layer of our story that we wanted to explore? Oh, yes. It's coming into focus now. Oh, here it is on my orb. It's coming into focus. Here we are. Oh, we're at the 10-year high school reunion of Angela Perez and her friend Jennifer Gaylord. Brilliant. Brilliant, Pop. It's about time I asked you to flash back to that 10-year reunion in our last episode, and then you got all distracted with the legend of Angelita and Shavano. Well, Clarissa, my dear, you know it's impossible to leave it out. The legend is foundational to Angelita's adventures in outer space. Our listeners need to understand the historical context, don't you agree? In fact, the story of Angelita and Shavano is at the center of every other story. But you are right, Clarissa, dear. Now, it's time for Angela and Jennifer's 10-year reunion. Jennifer, that's your cue. Your orb. Whoa, gee. I hope Angela comes tonight. Angela was my BFF, even though she was always telling wild stories about aliens, talking cats, recurring dreams, flying around in outer space. I remember she was always trying to prove it was all true. She and her cat would disappear for days at a time while we were all in Salida for rehearsals. Everyone was all freaked out, especially her mother, Wisteria, who would run and cry into the arms of Señor Rowell. Well, anyway, that's just what I heard. I don't really know. That's for sure somebody told me that. I just don't know if it's true. Wisteria's always blaming her mom, Wacky Wanda. They were all living in Santa Cruz. By all, I mean Wisteria and Sal. That's the husband, the Mexican one who killed himself. And Zirko's mom, Zifra, the Afghan whatever. Jennifer, I think you should stop perpetuating that myth. Sal did not kill himself. And I always heard that they never even made it to Santa Cruz because Sal never made it out of Afghanistan, at least that's the way I heard the story. But details do get confused after centuries of storybook layers, especially since Wisteria is no longer with us to straighten things out. Who knows what's true? Who knows what's illusion? What's reality? Who knows? Clarissa, dear, whatever. He died because of some war. And Senior Rowell and Wisteria, they both died because of some stupid kid. And my Chris died because of that same stupid kid who did not die. And the wrong people are always dying. What do I know? Just let me tell the story my way, Mrs. Talloway. I was saying, okay, Zirko, Angela's brother, well, not brother, but almost brother since they were born on the same night at all. Zirko was kind of weird. He's got this limp from some kind of birth defect when Zifra, his mom, was pregnant with him over there in whatever Afghan something someplace. I have no idea. Anyway, gimpo-wimpo, that's what the kids called him. Not me. I didn't call him that. I would never do that. Just everyone else. Anyway, she always stuck up for him when the principal, Mr. Cartwright, pretended to look away and never even gave detention to the jocks who would push Zirko into the lockers or accidentally on purpose bump into him with their shoulders. You know, jocks rule in high school. Anyway, you remember Angela's grandmother, Grandma Gaga, Wanda Lafayette. Yeah, it's kind of hard to keep straight. That was her name until she married Joe Hopkins. She's not Wanda Lafayette anymore. She's Wanda Hopkins. Well, oh, gosh, talk about half-breeds breeding half-breeds. Joe was black. Well, Negro in those days. Football player from Wanda's rival high school over there in Pueblo. Now, there's the story of forbidden love. White girls just didn't marry black guys in the 50s, especially in Pueblo, Colorado. What am I saying? Well, Wanda wasn't a white chick at all. She was full-blood Native American youth chick, so I guess it was okay for her to marry a black dude. What do I know? It did stir up the community, though. Not that I really know the whole story. I'm just repeating what everybody else said. Angela never told me that herself. All she told me was that her grandmother's husband, Joe, got shipped off to Vietnam, and when Wanda found out she was pregnant with Wisteria, she tried to move back to the reservation, but the whole reservation refused to take her back, so it was just easier to just move to Crestone where no one would know her. Well, that's not brilliant at all, my dear. You shouldn't be repeating rumors, Jennifer. Rumors have always become wars one way or another. Man's inhumanity to man. Man is one of the great literary themes throughout history. That's why world literature is an essential study, my dear. Angela's mother knew that very well. You can learn a lot from a good book or a good story, secrecy, deception, lover, the beloved, conflict, violence, prejudice, hatred. The stuff of every good story. Watch what you sow, though, my dear Jennifer. You don't want to be spreading rumors. They're seeds that could grow up and eventually blow up into wars. When will we ever learn? I remember Angela telling me of her dreams of soldiers crawling across the frozen lake, their weapons over their shoulders. When they get to the other side of the frozen lake, their weapons turned into their wings and they would fly away in a V formation. Oh, it was a beautiful dream. Oh, yeah. Mrs. Dalloway, I remember that dream. I remember Angela telling me that very crazy dream, too. What the heck does it all mean? She says, Grandma, God, I had the same dreams, too, if you can believe that. Oh, what do you suppose it all means? Maybe I'll ask her tonight at the reunion. God, ten years. Oh, that's hard to believe. I've been out across town for ten whole years. Oh, wow, look at the time. I better go get ready, Mrs. Dalloway. I have to fix my hair. I have to put on makeup. And I'll probably keep thinking Chris is going to show up, too. I still miss him. Why, God, why? Why do you have to take people away from us? I'll never forgive you! Jennifer, dear, Jennifer, I do understand what you are going through. It's just that I didn't take Chris from you. Car accidents are not something I can control, even if I wanted to. Try and just think about the party tonight. Go on, dear. Get dressed up and go enjoy the evening with your friends. Time you had some fun. You came all this way. Now go ahead, get ready. What did I hear? Who's talking? What did I just hear? I must be imagining things again. All right, let's see. That other one. Maybe this one with the boxes. Yeah, I like this one. Maybe just a little dark purple. Eyeshadow here. No eyeliner. Hmm. Hair down. Hair up. All the way down. Over my shoulders like this. Thank God for Clairol. Okay, here you go, girl. Still a looker at 28. Hmm. I wonder what Angela looks like now. Oh, Jennifer. Wow. You made it after all. Oh, man, I love that blonde. Looks good on you, girl. You're still a looker at 28. I don't know about me, but you are. Thanks, Angela. I saw Mrs. Talloway a while ago, too. She's coming. Will you be okay? Will the two of you be okay, do you think? Oh, of course, Jennifer. Don't worry. Nothing was her fault. It wasn't her fault. It's okay, Jennifer. Well, it's just that Mrs. Talloway and Senor Well usually drove to the rehearsals of Angelita and Shavano, except for that night after the strike party. I guess your mom asked him to help look for you, and she was so worried. She really needed his help. Oh, Jennifer. Gosh, let's just not go over it again, okay? I mean, if anyone could change the past, I would have done it ten years ago. Sometimes Grandma Gaga still thinks I'm my mom. Even after all this time, calls me a wisteria. I have to say, Grandma, I'm Angela, and then she'll get this far-off look just saying nothing. No, it's not easy. Maybe the best thing we can all do is forgive each other. Maybe that's why I still keep going back to, I don't get it, Angela. How do I forgive the kid driving that truck that night? Chris died and all. I mean, he died. Your mom and Senor Well died that night. Nothing you can do will alter reality. Oh, girls, maybe not. I don't know. But Angela's on the right track, Jennifer. I think way back then, if I had been with him, I might have been killed, too. We just can't change the past, Jennifer, but we can reframe it. And if Senor Well had just gone to that strike party instead of being out with your mom, Angela... Well, they were looking for me, I guess. Pretending to look for you is more like it, Angela. What... Jennifer, what on earth are you talking about, Jennifer? But it's all in the past, Jennifer. We don't need to bring up old heartbreaks. What on earth are the two of you talking about, Jennifer and Mrs. Dalloway? Well, you're telling me you didn't know, Angela? You really didn't know? Know what? I thought my mom read books all night after work. What do you mean? Mrs. Dalloway and Senor Well were... Meeting in Salida after rehearsals, yes. And then, when you and a third just went missing, I guess they would go out together looking for you. And, well, one thing naturally led to another. Whoa, Jennifer, I guess my mom wasn't sad and lonely after all. I thought Mrs. Dalloway and Senor Well were an item. I thought Senor Well was in love with Mrs. Dalloway, like you were in love with Chris, and like Angelita was in love with Shavano. We were pretty typecast, weren't we, Angelita and Shavano? For sure, for sure soulmates. And we're still soulmates until eternity twice. That's what Shavano used to say. Well, that's what Chris always said, too. He said you were like soulmates, Jennifer, and I think it's true in this life and in the next. Whoa, in the next? I hope there will be a next. You can count on that, Jennifer. You can count on that. What? Hey, did you guys hear something? Did you hear that? Hear what, Jennifer? I didn't say anything, but I was just thinking about how sad life is sometimes. I wish we could just do it all again. Yeah, me too, Mrs. Dalloway. Sometimes I wish we could have more than one chance at it, you know? Like, well, what if Angelita had been able to run away with Shavano instead of being locked up in that chicken coop for weeks, and then by the time she got up there, Shavano was gone. He thought she had betrayed him. Poor Angelita. Ah, brilliant, brilliant story. Yes, perhaps your grandma's stories and dreams are telling you something important, Angela. Stories can't just be stories for no reason. Otherwise, what's the point? Hey, how about we find out the deeper truth and start maybe forgiving each other? Maybe our dreams can even help us survive. Maybe they might even help end hate and prejudice and conflict. Maybe even they'll end wars. Well, Angela, now you're taking it a little far. You've changed in ten years. You're a cool, apathetic, cynical little teenager. Huh, now listen to you. Dreams, huh? Ending wars, huh? We'll never know the truth about anything, Angela. Dreams will never stop hateful wars and conflicts. Nothing really matters anyway. Jennifer, now who's being cynical? Truth matters, even if it's just a story. Her story, history. Her story, herstory. Hmm, I like that. Their story's our story, and I really hope it's not too late. Oh, girls, girls, girls, it's never too late to seek the truth. But then again, what is true? What's a dream? What is reality after all? Don't you know we're all just in a dream? Mrs. Dalloway, you always did confuse me. Well, let's go dance. Maybe we'll just all have to have a dream about what really happened to Angelita and Shavano. Grandma Gaga always says, if you write your dreams down the moment you wake up, then read it the next day again, or dare so later, you'll understand what it's trying to tell you. Maybe that doesn't sound so wacky after all, Angela. Tell us about your dreams, Angela. You know, the ones I mean, the ones you share with your Grandma Gaga. Well, Jennifer, if you have a few hours, I'll tell you what really happened with Angelita and Shavano. Of course, Aethergis and I have had a few experiences, or, uh, that is, dreams. So, hey, let's have a campfire party tomorrow night, and I'll fill you in on a few secrets. Brilliant, Angela. Can I come too? We can sing? Oh, if only Chris and Senor Roel and your mother could be there too. Well, you know, Mrs. Dalloway, I kind of think they are, in one form or another. Mom's never really very far away. Oh, you're sounding downright existential, Angela, after ten years. Deeply thoughtful, philosophical, metaphysical even. Maybe you can help us all finally learn the truth about what really happened to Angelita and Shavano. Did they get swept through a wormhole to the planet of Aethergis? And are they dancing together right now in the mysterious red threads of gravity, and the Akaitos? Mrs. Dalloway, how did you... Stay tuned for the next episode of Angelita's Adventures in Outer Space. This is Billy Ruth Hopkins. Unalichi! With KCIW 100.7 on your FM dial, right here in beautiful downtown Brookings. Remember to catch us on podcast at www.kciw.org www.kciw.org forward slash A-N-G-E-L-I-T-A-S dash wings Until next time.

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