Storymania - An Island Unto Himself, The Novel by Tony Mossor

An Island Unto Himself, The Novel (6)
Tony Mossor

"How ‘bout if I just call you Tawni for short?"

"Okay, Stu Stu!" Tawndalayia said, regaining her cheerful spirit.

Just then a parrot flew in through one of the big open windows. It was the same blue and yellow thief that had stolen the banana back at Stu’s camp. He almost crashed into Stu as he flapped and fluttered wildly! Stu ducked to avoid a collision!

"You again! Shoo!" Stu hollered.

The parrot hollered too, squawking and screeching!

Tawni intervened between the two as the parrot lighted on a perch with Stu close behind.

"No Stu Stu, this is my friend, Squawker! Squawker lives here with me," she said.

"You own this future feather duster?!" Stu asked.

"I do not own Squawker. We are friends," Tawni explained.

Squawker cackled his approval with a resounding "Awk," as if seconding her statement.

"You should make friends, too," Tawni continued. "I must prepare lunch. You two talk."

"Don’t tell me that bird brain here speaks English, too," Stu said sarcastically.

"Yes, Squawker is very good talker... If you are good listener."

Tawni exited to the kitchen to make lunch.

Stu paced back and forth in front of Squawker, looking him over. Squawker likewise paced on his perch, looking Stu over.

Finally, Stu broke the silence, "So big mouth, let’s hear your stuff... What’s a matter, cat got your tongue?... My what a big vocabulary you have... C’mon bird, say something!"

"Ban-a-a-a-a-na," Squawker cackled, mocking Stu.

"Smart ass!" Stu came back.

"Awk, dumb ass," Squawker replied.

Stu lunged for the parrot, but Squawker made his escape back out through the open shutters, feathers flying. Not all the blue and yellow down had yet reached the floor before Tawni sang out from the kitchen in a melodic voice that made Stu forget all about his antagonist.

"Stu Stu, lunch is ready," she called.

CHAPTER 15

Stu joined Tawni in her open air kitchen. The center piece of the kitchen was an adobe oven made from earthen clay. A terra cotta smoke stack vented the wood fired exhaust and excess heat up through the thatch roof and safely outside. Stu was impressed.

Tawni stuck a long piece of straw into the oven’s fire chamber to light it and motioned for Stu to join her on the other side of the oven.

"Come, let us eat, Stu Stu," she said.

She used the lit straw to fire up two short tiki torches that were mounted on the dining table.

Stu walked around the oven and over to the table per Tawni’s instruction. If he was impressed with her oven, he was really impressed with the spread she had laid out. It was a tropical smorgasbord. The big wooden table was crowded with colorful tropical fruits of all shapes and sizes; citrus, berries and pineapple. There were fresh vegetables; corn on the cob and shelled, black beans. There was roasted poultry, crabs, shrimp and clams. There were other dishes as well, some that Stu recognized but, more that he didn’t.

"Oh my," he said.

"I hope you are pleased," Tawni replied as she used a wooden paddle to pluck a golden brown loaf of bread from the oven.

"I was not sure what you would like. I do not get many visitors. Please, sit."

"I’m sure I can find something to my liking," Stu said in amazement as he obeyed his host and found a seat.

"What would you like to try first, Stu Stu?" Tawni asked eagerly.

"Everything looks and smells so good," Stu said surveying the feast. "How about one of these," he said selecting a peculiar yellow fruit.

"Very good, Stu Stu. Oh, and you must try some of my bread while it is still hot," she said as she tore the loaf with her dainty hands.

Tawni placed a sizable portion on Stu’s clay platter and a smaller portion on her own.

"Try this," she said, serving him a juicy slice of the plump poultry.

Meanwhile, Stu was helping himself to the unshucked corn and shrimp. After all, it had been a few days since he had enjoyed a real meal. By the time the eager duo had finished placing samples of each dish on his platter, it was piled high and overflowing. They had to laugh at themselves.

"I think this should do for starters," Stu comically observed.

"Well... okay, but let me know if you want more," Tawni chortled satirically.

Stu dug in while Tawni served herself with a more select and modest variety.

The first bite of tender, roasted poultry seemed to melt in Stu’s mouth.

"Mmm, this is delicious, Tawni. My compliments to the chef," Stu said.

"To chef?" asked Tawni.

"You know, chef, the person that cooked it."

"Chef did not cook it. I prepared everything myself," Tawni pouted.

"No, what I mean..."

Stu was interrupted by the return of Squawker. The big, blue and yellow bird flapped and fluttered into the room and perched on Stu’s shoulder, mussing his hair in the process.

"Good, you two have made friends, Tawndalayia is happy," Tawni said.

A small yellow feather fluttered down and landed on Stu’s food laden plate, right on the succulent poultry. Stu hadn’t thought it possible for a bird to grin but, he could have sworn that’s what Squawker was doing when he glared at the parrot out of the corner of his eye. Stu discreetly blew the feather off his plate with a quick puff of air from the side of his mouth and resumed eating, purposefully avoiding the poultry.

"As I was saying, before my new friend here interrupted me, this is fantastic," Stu said. "Everything is so good and I was so hungry. I’m afraid I’ve got a lot to learn about hunting / gathering."

"Awk, not to mention hut building," Squawker interjected.

"Squawker! Where are your manners?" Tawni said. "I love your house Stu Stu."

"It’s Stu," he politely corrected her, "...you like my house? You’re kidding."

"I especially like the orange part, Stu Stu," Tawni said.

"It’s Stu...Orange part? Oh, the bus."

"Bus?"

"Yeah, it’s kind of a mobile home."

"Bus have see through walls, Stu Stu."

"It’s Stu... Oh never mind. Those see through walls are called windows. Hey, you wanna go for a ride..."

Squawker interrupted again, "Awk! Grape".

"Squawker loves grapes," Tawni explained as she handed a bunch of round, red grapes to Stu.

Stu was dubious about hand feeding his feathered foe but, Tawni wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She didn’t say anything. She just smiled at Stu and waited... and there was that cocky grin on Squawker’s bird face again.

Stu swallowed his pride and plucked a grape from the bunch. He held it up and Squawker took it from his hand and squished it in his strong beak. Juicy pulp dripped onto Stu’s shirt as Squawker tilted and jiggled his head in order to advance the grape down his throat.

"Happy?" asked Stu, sarcastically.

"Awk, scratch me," Squawker said.

Stu looked to Tawni for assistance. "Squawker likes to have his breast scratched", she explained.

Reluctantly, the hapless Stu scratched the bird’s chest.

"Ahhhh," Squawker sighed with pleasure.

After a little while the big bird uttered his next command, "Awk, this is the life. Lower."

Stu obeyed. When Squawker decided he had been thoroughly curried, he decided to see just how far he could stretch his luck.

"Awk, fan me," he said.

"Now look here..." Stu began. But, Tawni interjected.

"That’s enough Squawker, we must let our guest eat," she said diplomatically.

"Thank you," Stu said to Tawni as he gave the parrot one last look of contempt and resumed eating. Everything tasted so good. There was one unfamiliar dish that Stu especially liked.

"This is delicious. What is it?" he asked his host as he shoved another big spoonful into his mouth.

"It is brain food," she answered.

"Some kind of fish or something?"

"No... just brain."

Stu choked back the gagging reflex that had suddenly come over him.

"Brain... what kind?" he asked.

"Awk, does it matter?!" Squawker taunted, provoking Stu to finally take a swat at him.

Squawker went aloft to avoid the swing and cackled a jeering laugh at his adversary. He flew to Tawni and roosted on the back of her chair, out of harm’s way.

"You do not look good, Stu Stu," Tawni said, referring to his pale expression.

"Stu Stu doesn’t feel so good either," he admitted.

"I am not surprised," said Tawni. "It comes from eating green bananas. It is good that I found you. Who takes care of you where you live?"

"What makes you so sure anyone takes care of me?" Stu said.

"From what I have seen, you would not last one day on your own."

"Very funny."

Squawker put his two cents worth in, "Awk, not one day, awk".

Stu took out his wallet and opened it to his pictures. The first photo was a picture of Mary. He handed the open wallet to Tawni.

"That’s my wife, Mary," he told her.

Tawni looked puzzled.

"What’s wrong?" asked Stu.

"How did you make her so small?" Tawni asked in wonder.

"It’s a picture... It’s not really Mary. It’s just a picture. Mary is at home."

"Mary cooks for you?" asked Tawni.

"Yes, Mary cooks for me," replied Stu.

"Good," said Tawni matter of factly. Satisfied that Stu was being cared for at home, she curiously looked through the rest of the photos. Stu put names to the faces for her.

"Those are my kids, Tiffy and Brad. That’s our family pet, Manny," he said.

"Awk! Ugly," squawked Squawker, referring to Manny.

"A lot you know," Stu fired back, "that’s a pure blooded, AKC registered Cocker Spaniel. He cost me three hundred bucks and he is not ugly!"

"U-u-ugly," Squawker insisted.

"Jealous!" Stu came back.

"Butt ugly," Squawker replied, determined to get the last word.

"Why do you carry pictures of your family in your pocket, Stu Stu?" Tawni asked, changing the subject.

Stu explained, "In my world, we carry pictures of the people we love."

Tawni withdrew a number of one dollar bills from the wallet and examined them.

"Who is this?" she said.

"That’s ole George," said Stu.

"You love ole George?"

"No I don’t love ole George!"

"Then, why do you carry so many pictures of him?"

"You wouldn’t understand."

"...You do love him!" Tawni teased.

Stu objected, "I don’t love George..."

But, Tawni headed him off, "Your Mary is very pretty, Stu Stu".

Stu was slow to respond.

"... Well, you know, makeup," he finally answered.

"Makeup?"

"It makes women pretty," Stu explained. "It’s like magic. I’ve got a bunch of it back at my bus... I mean hut."

Suddenly, Tawni became very excited!

"You can make Tawni pretty, Stu Stu?!" she exclaimed.

"Oh Tawni, you don’t need makeup," Stu said.

Truer words were never spoken.

"Please, Stu Stu," Tawni pleaded.

"But..."

"Pl-e-a-s-e, Stu Stu."

CHAPTER 16

Stu proved no match for Tawni’s pleading. In fact he didn’t stand a chance against her pouting, poked out, bottom lip. They were on their way back to the bus in short order.

Before they left, Tawni fetched them each a cool drink to take along for the walk. They were some sort of berry juice, blackberry maybe, stored in clay jars and sealed with wax

tops about an inch thick.

Tawni dug them up from the cool, moist sand just behind her house. They were buried about a foot deep and from what Stu could tell, there were many more where they came from.

Tawni rinsed off the small, sandy pots with water from a wooden bucket and they were on her way. She showed Stu how to make holes in the wax covering that plugged the wide mouthed jars. She used a stick to punch two holes in the wax seals, one to drink from and the other to let in air so as to help the juice flow easier.

Stu was curious about the tasty liquid treats and Tawni explained how they were concocted. The berries grew wild near the big creek. The small, clay pots were cooled in the stream while the berries were picked and then mashed to make the juice. Thousands and thousands of ripe berries were collected. Meanwhile, bees wax was melted in a kettle, over an open fire. When the juice was ready, the pots were retrieved from the stream and filled with juice to within about an inch of the wide brim. The molten bees wax was then poured in directly on top of the cool juice. The wax floated on top and hardened quickly against the cool sides of the pottery.

The process took all day. In fact, sometimes Tawni camped at the creek and spent two days jarring the sweet nectar. It just depended on how abundant the berry crop was from year to year. Storing the drinks underground kept them cool, not cold but, refreshingly cool.

Stu and Tawni sipped their drinks as they walked along.

Although Stu was rationing his only pack of cigarettes, it was his custom to have an after dinner cigarette. This day was no different. As they walked back to the VW bus, he pulled the pack from his shirt pocket and stopped to light up. Tawni turned to see what the holdup was.

"Why you are stopping, Stu Stu?"

"I’ll just be a second," he said pulling out his Zippo lighter.

"What is that?" Tawni asked.

"This is my trusty Zippo," Stu answered. "It never fails."

"Never fails to what?"

Stu clinked the lighter open with a flick of his wrist.

"Never fails to strike a light," he said, striking the lighter against the fabric of his trousers.

Tawni gasped in awe when the chrome lighter ignited.

"Your Trusty Zippo is much faster than rubbing sticks together, Stu Stu," she said.

She gasped again when Stu placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it.

"What are you doing?!" she asked.

"I’m smoking a cigarette," Stu answered.

He inhaled deeply.

"Mmm, that’s good," he said to himself.

When he pulled the cigarette from his mouth he slowly exhaled the smoke through his nose, savoring every precious wisp.

Tawni was horrified! Thinking he had unwittingly caught himself on fire from the inside out, Tawni flew into action. She struck the top of her clay jar against a nearby tree, breaking open the wax seal.

"What’s wrong with you?" Stu asked placing the cigarette back in his mouth.

Tawni didn’t answer. Instead she slung the contents of the jar in his face, thoroughly dousing the cigarette and covering him with purple liquid.

"What’d you do that for?!" Stu shouted.

"You were on fire!" Tawni screamed back.

"I wasn’t on fire, you numskull! I told you I was smoking a cigarette!"

"Stop yelling at me!" Tawni shouted.

"I’m not yelling!" Stu shouted back.

"Stu Stu is mad with Tawni," she said stifling tears.

Realizing how upset Tawni was, Stu calmed down.

"No Stu Stu isn’t mad with Tawni. Look," he said, "it’s just that cigarettes are very expensive".

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