3
Gossamer Way
Barbacoa is the god of the ocean. In the sea, he is an octopus or squid. But outside of the water, he assumes the form of a spider or crab. When there was only water covering all of the earth, with nothing but the stars glittering in the firmament above, the god took his spider form and went about, traveling by web, generating islands and landmasses all over the surface of the sea, peppering the ocean with bits of rock, just as the stars dot the sky above. The spider god would achieve such a feat by planting a volcano in the sea, which, over time, would generate new land about itself, naturally. Barbacoa had nothing but time, so it was a pleasant wait. However, when the new land sprouted and blossomed upon the surface of the sea, it was just barren rock, and the god was left languid and unenthused by the result.
But Barbacoa persisted in his work, stubbornly planting volcanoes across the field of ocean, hopeful that one day the harvest would come in and make his efforts worthwhile. As he worked, others took notice of the traversing spider. The gods of the sky, the great birds, lived in the heavenly trees which sprouted from the firmament, nesting in the branches that cradled the sky, the beating of their wings creating the winds. Within this ætherial wood, they fed upon fruits and nuts that hung from the branches. However, a bug is a tasty morsel for a bird, and when they spotted this celestial spider making its way across the sea, performing its generative work, they supposed it to be the perfect meal for a celestial bird such as themselves. And so, they took flight in pursuit of this spider traversing its cosmic track of webbing.
Following the web, on the heels of the god of the sea, the celestial birds also, unknowingly, were accomplishing another task: that of seeding these volcanic islands. When a bird eats seeds, not all of them are fully crushed by the beak. And the seeds evolved to be able to pass through a bird’s digestive track, unscathed. And so, when a bird flies to a new land, and drops stool there, they are often reseeding this new land from the fruit of the old. Thus did these great birds, on their flight for the spider.
Gradually, the spider god took notice of the greening of these once-barren rocks which he had planted in the empty sea. Palm trees and flowering bushes were sprouting upon each of his islands. Mightily pleased by this surprise, he rested in his web to survey this miracle. It was not long, however, before he heard the cries of the birds in their pursuit of him. Noting their presence for the first time, the spider god understood, at once, the origin of this great boon.
Ha! laughed the spider, They think of me as a meal, but I will make fools of them!
And he quickly took off, giving the birds the slip, spinning his web with such a speed that its whirling dazzled the eyes with flashes across the sky. Higher and higher, the cosmic spider climbed, until he was spinning his web through the stars, knitting them one to the other in a vast network, cutting off the birds from their celestial trees. Then, satisfied with his work, he turned again into an octopus and dropped back into the ocean, from whence he came.
The great birds continued to follow the track of the cosmic spider, flying from isle to isle, in search of the wayward meal. But the spider was nowhere to be found. Nor could they return to their sky perch, they soon found. And so, they settled into new perches, in the trees that now grew on every island dotting the sea, nesting and rearing young. But never did they forget the celestial spider. And every season, they take flight in great flocks and again follow the threads of that cosmic webbing, migrating across vast distances, hopping from island to island, hoping against hope to happen upon that promised meal.
And Barbacoa only laughed from his sanctuary beneath the waves, the tentacles of his octopus form rippling with mirth, stretching to cradle each of the islands and connecting them all together in a tender embrace.
People eventually began to show up on these ancient volcanic islands, following the flyway paths of the birds and the web of constellations in the sky. Each landmass they encountered was canopied with palms, gifts of fruit waiting in the wings, their branches alive in a chorus of birdsong. And so, the people would build their homes within their shade and sang thanks to the trees for their bounty, sang thanks to the birds that nested in them, and sang thanks to the cosmic spider that they knew must have spun the web of stars they had followed in the sky. And Barbacoa shook with laughter under the sea as he listened to their songs.
