Oliver Benjamin
with a blue sky and black people with blue gums and white beaches
with red fruits and yellow eyes watching them in horror.
Deq rarely received any visitors, and few if any foreigners ever
bothered to embark there; it came as no surprise, then, that when
big, obnoxious Crash Winfield came paddling up in a papyrus boat
several of the island’s children came running out to gape at him,
pointing and laughing and screeching. He tried to ask them amiably
where the sacrificial altars were, but they didn’t understand a word.
Frustrated at their unabashed ignorance of the English language, he
tried to make himself understood by speaking loudly and slowly,
gesticulating wildly in movements that he felt would surely suggest to
their minds “Jewish sacrificial altars.” Finally, alerted by the ruckus,
a purple-clad monk emerged from nearby and shooed the children
away.
“What is it you want?” he snapped at the sweating, enervated
Winfield.
“Altars. Stone. Blood. Bones,” Winfield implored slowly,
deliberately.
“Do. You. Speak. English.” the monk said.
“Can you show us the Jewish stone altars? The ones where they
used to sacrifice animals.”
“Ah yes. No. I am quite busy.”
“With what?” Crash complained, “You’re a monk on a deserted
island.”
“Ah. Really I am very busy. Perhaps you could come back
Thursday.”
Crash saw where this was going. “I hate to interrupt your busy
routine. How about if I make a donation to your church?”
The monk took the money, breathing in to make the startling
Ethiopian gesture of affirmation, one which sounded as if he had
been punched in the stomach. He led them across the small island,
through narrow dusty trails shaded by canopies of vegetation. Roy
was on the lookout for anything resembling a coffee bush.
“Don’t you grow any coffee on this island?”
“Awoh,” the monk again breathed in sharply, “Yes. Somewhere.”
“Is it good?” Roy inquired hopefully.
“I think so. I don’t know. I don’t drink coffee.”
To Roy, this wasn’t looking very encouraging. “Could you show
me where the coffee is grown?” he prodded. The monk seemed
annoyed, and stared at his watch. Roy could see that it was broken.
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