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Oliver Benjamin                            
“Everybody’s got something to hide (Except for me and my
monkey).” When he was finished, the monkey shuffled over to him
and put his arms around Tree’s legs. Tree responded by picking at the
monkey’s white fur.
“See,” said Tree smiling, “They’re just like us—suckers for a love
song. Actually, I remind him of his mother. Here, Jake, give him a
coconut.”
I walked cautiously over with a fresh one and said, “Yeah, I
guess he needs something to wash all your muffins down with.”
“Oh, he didn’t know any better, he probably thought I left them
there for him, and that you were trying to steal them. Shame on you—
taking muffins from a baby.”
“He doesn’t look like a baby,” I said, handing the monkey the big
nut, which he easily cracked in two and drank from.
“He’s four. I was here when he was born—I even knew his
mother. She was shot by some drunk Thais about a year after she
gave birth to him. I helped to take care of him, making sure he was
getting enough food. Next to Dee, he’s my best friend on the island.”
Tree took the monkey’s hand and extended it to me. I shook it
politely.
Tree facilitated the introduction, “Sid, this is Jacob. Jacob,
Siddhartha.”
“Siddhartha?”
“That was the first name of the Buddha before he became
enlightened. It’s kind of ironic, really, because I think Sid’s probably
more enlightened than anybody. He knows what’s really important.”
He bent down to kiss the ape on the top of his head and gave it
a pat. Siddhartha started to beat his chest and make animated
monkey sounds as if he was in dire need of something, and Tree
laughed before walking over to the bag that used to contain muffins
and pulled out a harmonica.
“I thought I might need this,” he said, brushing off the crumbs,
and led Siddhartha and I back down to the beach like a rhythm and
blues pied-piper.
“It’s so simple even a monkey can play it. Look at this…”
After Tree handed the instrument to Sid, he proceeded to blow
into it with such a racket that we both made a move to tear it out of
his hand.
Tree rinsed the spit off in the sea before putting the harmonica
in his own mouth. After a single note, he stopped.
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