Straight From The Donkey’s Mouth
This is a true story, I was there!
Eddy is eccentric. I had stopped by his stall to buy fruit. I’m always one to start a conversation, and Eddy told me that he had abandoned his house in Kona when the utility company asked him to upgrade the wiring in his old house.
He couldn’t afford to do that and moved into a structure he had built close to the ocean on a piece of lava-coated land he owned.
The structure: half rickety wood structure and half tent with his van, parked fifty yards away, providing additional living space.
Eddy was once a substitute teacher; now, he is a free spirit selling fruits from his organic farm.
“Is that donkey yours?” I asked
“Not really, we are partners,” replied Eddy, scratching his bare chest.
“It looks as though you are also an organic farmer?”
“I am.”
“Is the donkey the source of nutrients for plants? And that’s why it’s a partnership?”
“Along with other sources you don’t want to hear about.”
“No, I suspect not,” I said, having already purchased the fruit. “Well, nice meeting you. Do you mind if I pet your donkey on my way,” I asked.
“Absolutely,” Eddy said, looking down at large heads of lettuce. “If you want to feed him a head of lettuce, I’ll sell you two for one?”
“Deal,” I said.
In a friendly gesture, the donkey licked my hand after waiting patiently on the lava beach.
“You know, when I saw you from a distance, you reminded me of Roy Fredericks, an opening batsman from Guyana, who played for the West Indies team in 1970. He was strong and stable, patiently wearing down the fast bowlers,” the donkey told me.
This is Hawaii. Magical place.
“Hi, my name is Harry. Can I call you Roy?” I asked, rubbing the donkey’s neck.
“Sure you can. I don’t know much about cricket. I hear more about baseball played mostly on the mainland,” Roy said.
Donkeys in their own right are strong and dependable animals, a great animal to be a pet, I mused, rubbing Roy’s ears.
“Thank you, Harry. It is kind to give me a name to celebrate a cricketer and talk to me; most people want to pet a dog, cat or pony, hardly any visitor to Eddy’s stall walks up to me,” Roy raised his head as a friendship gesture.
“Well, for me, a donkey is as good or even better than a horse, dog, or cat to be a pet; you are friendly, stable, strong, and, more importantly, very patient,” I told him. “How did donkeys end up on the Big Island of Hawaii?”
“Well, Harry, from what I understand, we were brought here to carry coffee beans from plantations to the factory mostly at night; thus, we were called ‘Nightingales’. But when trucks started hauling the beans, we were let go into the wild; since then, we’ve been on our own, roaming in packs.
Roy polished off two heads of lettuce.
“I see a whole lot of sugarcane growing wild on abandoned plantations. That must be good eating for you, Roy.”
“Sure it is, Harry. Eddy lets me roam freely. I come here during his opening hours; he sells more lettuce.
“Well, Roy, it was nice meeting you. I will drop by again to chat and buy lettuce,” I said.
I rubbed Roy’s neck in appreciation.
“Harry, everybody wants to hear it from horse’s mouth. You are the only one who wanted to hear it from a donkey’s mouth,” Roy said as I raised a hand to say goodbye.
“Well, I guess I am different, Roy,” I said smiling, struggling away, with the edges of lava rock like razor blades on the soles of my bare feet.
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