What if John Stein­beck made a left instead of a right at Mon­terey and wound up study­ing Kab­bal­ah instead of marine biol­o­gy with Doc Rick­etts? Or Woody Guthrie wound up in a sweat lodge instead of a hobo camp when he was rid­ing rails out West? What if Lon Chaney in Hollywood’s silent film era wan­dered onto the Cow­boy-and-Indi­ans set next door and saw a wolf­man who was real­ly both wolf… and man? Or at least coy­ote? Any of these wrong turns might have result­ed in the tale you hold in your hands right now. It’s the sto­ry of two leg­endary shape-shifters and bound­ary-busters — Eli­jah of Jew­ish folk tale and Passover wine fame and Coy­ote of Native Amer­i­can and tail-on-fire renown — cross­ing paths in Depres­sion-era Cal­i­for­nia. There are strikes brew­ing base­ball teams form­ing out­laws still unrec­ti­fied and scofflaws new­ly mint­ed, and moons to be howled at and danced under.