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Oliver Benjamin                            
actually comes for speed and power, no one can match you.” He
smiled and patted his washboard stomach. “Say, are you hungry?
How about we have some breakfast, ‘cause I’m famished, and the fish
are just waking up.”
“Fish for breakfast?” I asked skeptically.
“Sure! Look how strong it makes bears. Low in fat, high in
protein, easily digestible—it’s the perfect nourishment after beating
up the invisible man. Come on!”
Tree grabbed a small bag of things and some makeshift fishing
poles—just a couple of branches with some nylon wire—from his hut
and we tromped down the mysterious other sideof the island. The
foliage was dense, but Tree knew the way, and as we passed exotic
plants and scurrying animals that could only be heard and not seen.
We crossed some rocks to a calm area created by some rock
jetties. There, he said, fishing was “as easy as giving candy to a baby.”
Within mere minutes, we had a couple of decent fish each, and
climbed back over the rocks to the private little beach that now
contained only two sets of footprints. Tree gathered some wood and
made a small fire. With an assortment of small bamboo sticks, he
fashioned a barbeque, and after cleaning the fish, put them on the
fire. It smelled fine. He asked me to watch the fish while he ran to get
some fruit. Within minutes he was back with a huge papaya, a
pineapple and a strange-looking spiny fruit that I had never seen
before.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the odd fruit.
“Never seen one of these? Here, smell it.”
I took the large green ball up to my nose and nearly choked.
“This smells like shit! You don’t eat this.”
He burst out laughing. “It’s called a durian, and they stink so
bad that in Singapore you can be fined five hundred dollars just for
bringing one on a subway.”
“What do you use them for? Weapons?”
“No, no. If you can learn to develop a taste for them, they’re
actually quite delicious. I love them myself. Here, try some.” He took
out a pocket knife and scooped out a piece for me which I
immediately spit out.
“Yuck. No thanks, I’d rather eat sand.”
“You won’t have to,” he said, “The fish is done.”
It was a tasty breakfast, and with the sun coming up over the
water from behind the clouds, I decided one of the most satisfying I
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