Experience Expanded: Green aka shards of emerald

“Once upon a time a man showed up in a village. He was handsome, tall and dressed in silk. He told the villagers he was looking to buy monkeys for a handful of copper. The villagers obliged and ran about in the forest, finding as many monkeys as they could to exchange for the copper pieces. Soon, it became hard to catch the few monkeys that were left and the villagers gave up. The man, undaunted, offered a small pouch of gold dust for every monkey they could bring him. And so the villagers did, until there were very few monkeys left. The man's eyes twinkled as he offered them, this time, a small emerald in exchange for every monkey found. Enthused, the villagers went back into the forest and caught every monkey they could until there were no monkeys left to be seen or heard, let alone caught. This time, the man promised four emeralds for every monkey brought to him. Unfortunately, he did not have the emeralds on-hand, and so said he was going to return to his town to fetch more, leaving his donkey in charge. As soon as the man left, the donkey said to the villagers, 'My master is easily fooled. Instead of tramping through the forest, buy each of these monkeys that we already have in cages from me for eight handfuls of copper, four bags of gold or two emeralds. Then, sell them back to him.” The villagers, blinded, took what they had earned and then scraped together some more, and handed it all to the donkey, thus buying back all the monkeys. The donkey then wandered off back to his town, and the villagers waited. And waited. They never saw neither the man nor his donkey again. All they had was a village full of monkeys.”1

“I see,” I say, unsure of why someone would launch into such a story uninvited.2

“Yes,” she replies.3

We sit still on the beach, watching the waves sneak up as best they can considering that we are looking directly at them.4

I notice that she is scrunching the white sand between her fingers. I can feel the grains beneath the fingernails, and this makes me shudder.5

“Full moon night,” I say, trying not to think about the rough sand. It has made its way onto my spine.6

“It's always a full moon night, have you noticed?” She looks at the dirty round thing that has become larger since the promenade had ended.7

“Always.”8

Blue and grey skies made the moon look like a prize goose egg sitting in a shallow pond.9

“Always. When we're out and about.”10

“Are we drawn outside by it?”11

“No. It's a trick.”12

“Whose trick?”13

“Deities trying to become more than they are.”14

“I see.”15

“They get very jealous when they're not catered to.”16

“Is that what the man was after?”17

“Which man?”18

“The man in the silk shirt.”19

“Oh. Maybe. Maybe. But have you ever noticed that there's never just one reason to do something, or not do it?”20

“Ah, yeah. So he wanted to get super-rich as well.”21

“I don't know.” She shrugs. “I'm thirsty. And we're sitting in front of the sea.”22

“Where's the water bottle?”23

“It was there.” She points to where the flame-like design of the bottle has left indentations in the sand. It had moved.24

I hear chants.25

Little red ants carry the bottle to the lip of the water, and set it down. They all jump aboard.26

“Fancy, aren't they?” a man in a large grey overcoat asks me. He is tall and smells like dry saliva.27

“I know better than to talk to used dragon boat salesmen,” I say, watching the men as they pull on the oars of the boat, decked out in red to match the flames painted on the boat.28

“I'm not a used dragon boat salesman,” the man says as he draws back, his slender fingers poised on his chest as if he has never been insulted in such a way. In a micro-second, he is back on track. “I'm a used dragon egg salesman.” He leans forward with an eye opened too widely so that I see the capillaries on his eyeballs.29

“No such thing.”30

“Look.” He shows me a handful of little quail-egg type things that my cousins used to steal from trees. These were brittle, though.31

“Dragon-egg nuts,” I correct him. “They're dragon egg nuts.”32

“Potatoes to the starving,” the man said. “Care to try one?”33

I take one of the things he holds in his hands – a little yellow one with green speckled all over it – and pop it in my mouth. I taste wasabi, and bite into it.34

“Euchhh!” I spit it out. Something cold and thick had washed over my tongue. I croak to make sure it doesn't go down my throat.35

“What?” he asks. He must be very good at looking innocent, even with his Assyrian bushy brown beard and striped yellow-black cap.36

“That was disgusting. It was cold and liquid.”37

“Well, I'm a used dragon egg nut salesman,” he retorted, matter-of-factly.38

I retch and wish I had taken the mechanic up on his offer to coat the inside of my mouth in copper.39

“Just put the coal back on the thing; we don't need a show,” Abdul said.40

“Well stick it in your mouth and see how well you hold up,” I tell him.41

“Listen: you have the tongs. Put the coal back on there before you ruin everyone's night.”42

“All right. Relax.”43

I pick up the coal from the sand and watch it redden as it moves through the air. Once it sits on the aluminium foil, it looks serene.44

“Horrible choice of weather,” says Abdul.45

“Just a full moon,” I say.46

“And rain,” he notices.47

I am already drenched. No one has any protection except the coal, which glowers under a cocktail umbrella.48

“I would apologise to your friends, but I can't see them,” I say.49

“They're not from around here.”50

“One of them seems to have a tail.”51

“It's genetic.”52

“Ah.”53

“Or,” he pauses to put a hand on his tiny chin, “an act of...the gods.”54

“Either way, he will have problems.”55

“She.”56

“Oh.”57

“Yes.”58

I look around but cannot see the sea from where I am.59

“I know a person with that tail thingy.”60

“Really?” Abdul is so interested that he puts down the pineapple he is eating and looks at me through bushy eyebrows. “I'd like to meet more people with...this.”61

“I see.”62

“Yes.”63

“Won't we run out of chairs here though?”64

“You let me worry about that. Where are they?”65

“Who?”66

“People with tails.”67

“About.”68

“You know,” Abdul says as he leans back in his lawn chair, “I could give you something in exchange for these introductions.”69

“What?” I am, truthfully, interested.70

“An emerald.”71

I look at the coal on top of the pipe and it is indeed green.72

“I've been here before.”73

“Deal?”74

But something is moving me away from Abdul. Slowly, he and his companions are more than a leg's length away from me. Soon, I cannot hear him. He does not seem to care.75

I hear chanting.