she came floating on an island of bananas in a halo of light,as lovely as the virgin mary. the rising sun was behind her.
her flaming hair looked stunning.
i cried, "oh blessed great mother, pondicherry fertilitygoddess, provider of milk and love, wondrous arm spread ofcomfort, terror of ticks, picker-up of crying ones, are you towitness this tragedy too? it's not right that gentleness meethorror. better that you had died right away. how bitterly gladi am to see you. you bring joy and pain in equal measure.
joy because you are with me, but pain because it won't be forlong. what do you know about the sea? nothing. what do iknow about the sea? nothing. without a driver this bus is lost.
our lives are over. come aboard if your destination is oblivion– it should be our next stop. we can sit together. you canhave the window seat, if you want. but it's a sad view. oh,enough of this dissembling. let me say it plainly: i love you, ilove you, i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you. notthe spiders, please."it was orange juice – so called because she tended to drool– our prize borneo orang-utan matriarch, zoo star and motherof two fine boys, surrounded by a mass of black spiders thatcrawled around her like malevolent worshippers. the bananason which she floated were held together by the nylon net withwhich they had been lowered into the ship. when she steppedoff the bananas into the boat, they bobbed up and rolled over.
the net became loose. without thinking about it, only becauseit was at hand's reach and about to sink, i took hold of thenet and pulled it aboard, a casual gesture that would turn outto be a lifesaver in many ways; this net would become one ofmy most precious possessions.
the bananas came apart. the black spiders crawled as fastas they could, but their situation was hopeless. the islandcrumbled beneath them. they all drowned. the lifeboat brieflyfloated in a sea of fruit.
i had picked up what i thought was a useless net, but did ithink of reaping from this banana manna? no. not a singleone. it was banana split in the wrong sense of the term: thesea dispersed them. this colossal waste would later weigh onme heavily. i would nearly go into convulsions of dismay at mystupidity.
orange juice was in a fog. her gestures were slow andtentative and her eyes reflected deep mental confusion. she wasin a state of profound shock. she lay flat on the tarpaulin forseveral minutes, quiet and still, before reaching over and fallinginto the lifeboat proper. i heard a hyena's scream.
