What has it been this time, Julius, three days?
Why, Blaise, you remember, but whos counting? I mean, really? Who can or remember back that far?
Doesnt seem long at all, Mel said. Seems like only yesterday.
Mel? Mel, is that you? Everybody, in case you missed it. Mel made a funny. Julius moved in the branches above Blaise. Yes, dear, Ive been away for three days, not far really, and having as much fun as one can while still so close to home. I dropped in on a covey of homing pigeons. Theyre a feisty flock, those girls, and keep a neat nest. Oh, sure, theyre not as loving as turtle doves, but you can have your way with them and they keep coming back.
That doesnt sound very parrot-like of you, Julius.
Whats a parrot to do? I mean, how many Ara ararauna species do you see in the bush?
Regardless, youre supposed to mate for life, arent you?
Yes, well, if you recall, my first love was an African Grey.
Yes, I recall she was of a different feather? Blaise said.
My favorite Ara ararauna, and I didnt care one iota what Mom and Dad thought.
As it should be, Blaise said.
What became of her? Beatrice said. I dont recall?
She was stolen, taken from me, and shipped to the dark continent of America. She was such a striking beauty, too, with warm grey feathers, and dark inviting eyes. She was a real clicker, that girl, and could she whistle, " Julius whistled.
Im sorry for your loss, Beatrice said.
Im sorry, too, but were animals, arent we, some pets, others livestock. It goes with the territory.
Blaise said, So, what brings you out this time of day, Julius?
Im a parrot, Blaise. Im not a barn owl. I have friends to see and places to go.
Yes, well, after being gone for three days, I imagined youd be in the rafters resting, or painting something. Not out in this heat.
As it happens, Im off today to see an African Grey from the neighborhood. Julius dropped to a lower branch, his blue feathers blending with the green leaves. So, todays visit will be something sentimental for me, and who knows, possibly the beginning of a long-term relationship. I dont want to get my hopes up, though, not just yet. She may have already mated with another, which would serve me right for my late-night carousing. Im just saying.
Your presence will be greatly missed, Mel said. His irony was not lost.
Why, thank you, Mel, but not to worry. I plan to be back in the old barn lot in time for the party, so save a dance for me.
Theres dancing? Ezekiel said to Dave.
Blaise, sometimes I think were an old married couple.
Because we think alike?
Because we dont flock.
Im a cow.
And hes a mule, Julius said, and the only true non-flocker among us. Its rather rude of us to even be talking about flocking in front of his Holiness, considering he cant.
Jew-bird.
There he goes again trying to confuse the issue. He cant argue the facts, so he attacks the messenger. In this case, and in most cases, I might add, its me. Dont blame me for your predicament. I didnt introduce your mother to your father, Donkey Kong. Oh, it was love at first sight when she got a load of that guy. She was a real Mollie, his mother.
What? Molly the Border Leicester looked up.
Not you, dear, Blaise assured Molly.
When you die, youll be a martyr to no one, Mel said.
When I die, I plan to be dead. Not leading the choir.
Atheist, Jew-bird.
Mel, Mel, Mel, a mule by any other name, say jackass, is still a mule. Mel turned and broke wind as he sauntered off toward the fence line along the Egyptian border.
You take after your mother too, especially from behind--both of you wear the same perfume! Just like a stubborn old mule, always has to have the last wind. What I wouldnt give for a five-cent cigar. Be gone, you horses ass, or half a horses ass. The other half, I dont know what youd call that butt but cute. Speaking of his old black rump, I have a black bill. I use mine to pass knowledge and not fear or natural gas. I use my lovely black beak to do good in the world like climbing, breaking nutshells, and his nuts, whereas his rump--
You certainly do, Beatrice said, not amused. He talks, just not as incessantly as you.
Yes, he does out his black rump, but he cant do both at the same time, walk and talk. Its where we went to school. Julius did a flip on a smaller branch, making it sway with his weight, his beak cutting into the bark. Its a good thing I didnt have that cigar, after all. Lit up against his backdraft, it would have set off a small explosion and the neighbors would have gotten all giddy, and then the chanting, the chanting.
Just then the call went out for afternoon prayers.
Oh, will it ever end? We dont stand a chance.
Mel wandered along the perimeter fence line that bordered the Sinai Desert.
Julius, you never seem to have much reverence for the elders, the leaders, our parents, Beatrice said.
Is it written somewhere that we should? I might be an animal, a parrot, but seriously, some of our elders would have us led over cliffs or to the slaughter through our holy reverence for them.
Is what you said about his parentage true?
What difference does it make? Julius said. His mother was a horse; his father a jackass, and together they had a darling little critter who grew up to take himself way too seriously, and now hes an old mule, but from behind a real horses ass. Come to think of it, for a non-flocking mule, he certainly tries to flock everyone he can.
Mel stopped at the back corner of the perimeter fence as a man in dusty brown robes stepped from a crevasse in the desert rocks. He looked hungry, weather-worn, and sinewy.
Oh look, everyone! Its Tony, the Hermit Monk of the Sinai Desert. Mel stood at the fence as the monk came up to him. Theyre a fine pair, kindred idiots. The monk reached over the fence and gave Mel a carrot and rubbed his nose. Ah, isnt that sweet, Julius said, just like two peas in a pod. Julius rustled the olive branches, inspired. His face flushed pink from excitement. Blaise, those two remind me of a couple of mallards.
Why is that, Julius, because theyre loons?
* * *
Mels story as per Julius
Before this moshav, it was pretty barren with no irrigation. One day a Bedouin Arab rode across the desert on a camel, leading a small caravan with a horse, donkey, and jackass as pack animals, Mel, his mother, and father. Even though Mel was quite young and small, he carried a substantial amount of goods. The Arab sold the goods to the Egyptians, and when depleted of merchandise and no longer needed pack animals, he sold Mels mother and father to his fellow Arabs. Oddly, no one wanted the young strong mule. He was strong, too strong, as it turned out. Thus, a djinn come out of the desert. Since he was an evil little djinn spirit, a demon-possessed mule-child, no one was willing to pay the price the Bedouin wanted for the muscular black mule. The Bedouin saw no choice. He removed the pack, and as he was about to shoot, out of the desert stepped Saint Anthony, Alt!
When the monk offered to take the demonic little evil mule for an exorcism, the Bedouin lowered the gun. I think Saint Anthony, the Hermit Monk of the Sinai Desert, wanted someone to talk to. The Bedouin donated the mule, mounted the camel, and rode off into the desert, never to be seen since that time. The hermit monk took the little tike under his dusty robe and led him into the desert where henceforth from that day forth neither of them was ever seen or heard from again. Okay, so I made that part up. He took Mel to raise and to protect and to teach whew, and did he ever! When the Jews settled and started moshavim in the area, this moshav was started. One day, fence and fence posts appeared from one end of the farm to the other end, and from the border to the road. The next day, when the fence went up from post to post, encompassing these pastures, Mel stood in the middle of everything, where hes been ever since, in the middle of everything.