After Officer Downs had finished his eggs and everybody else was on at least their second cup of coffee, Jackson Jackson went to the P.A. and said, “I think we are ready for Kenneth to tell his story.”
Kenneth stood in front of the microphone and people politely got quiet.
“That’s Miss Jasmine’s nephew,” said somebody in the crowd.
Kenneth started. “I’m going to tell you about a dog named Whale. Actually, two dogs named Whale.”
“A dog named Whale? Now how about that,” a few people murmured.
“That’s right,” said Kenneth. “A dog name Whale, two of them. One of them is Miss Jasmine’s dog, right over there,” he said, pointing to her table. “And the other one is a dog named Whale from a book. It’s a novel from Brazil published in 1938. Miss Jasmine translated that novel from Portuguese into English in 1950.”
“Imagine that,” said somebody. “Miss Jasmine knows Portuguese! How about that!”
Kenneth said, “Now I told y’all one of the dogs is from a book. But there’s a problem.”
“What’s that?” someone asked.
“Well, the problem is I can’t read. I got my friend Larry over there to read me the book several times, and I memorized it.”
“You memorized a whole translation from Portuguese, with a dog named Whale? And you can’t read?” somebody else said admiringly.
“That’s right. They say strong memories run in my family. Like Miss Jasmine, for example. ‘Cept for those thirteen years.
“So let me tell you about Whale in the book first, and then I’ll tell you about Miss Jasmine’s dog Whale.
“This novel is called Barren Lives in English. It’s about a farmhand named Fabiano and his family, and their dog Whale. They lived in the drought-stricken Northeast of Brazil in the 1930s. The book was published in Portuguese in 1938.
“The first chapter describes the family walking across the parched earth, trying to find a new farm to work on. They have depleted their food and most of their water. The two boys are weak and can barely walk. They can all see the vultures flying overhead.
“The father, Fabiano, thinks maybe they will all die and get eaten by vultures before they make it to the farm. In his desperation, Fabiano momentarily considers leaving his oldest son to die so they can live. But then he thinks about the vultures, picks up his boy, and carries him over his shoulder. That moment in the book is kind of intense for the reader, making you think about what you would do if you were Fabiano.
“But this moment also speaks to the harshness of the environment and the animal-like nature of the family. They barely talk to each other. They seem to have little language. They are close to the land and struggle with it.
“Somehow, they make it to the farmhouse to find it abandoned. It is not clear how long they traveled. There are some juazeiro trees, and they all collapse underneath the trees in the shade. The dog Whale pricks her ears up and starts sniffing. Then she runs to the horizon and out of sight. Fabiano knows he must get water and starts searching for the old livestock watering hole. He finds it dry and digs it out with his hands. Finally enough water comes up for him to drink and he also refills the gourd to take back to his family.
“Meanwhile, Whale has found a group of guinea pigs—in Brazil they are called prea. She has killed one and brought it back for the family to eat. Fabiano makes a fire, and they roast the guinea pig over the fire using a rosemary skewer the boys had been playing with. They all eat. They are going to survive.
“The first time Larry read this to me I was thinking they must be drinking some nasty, muddy water. I hope these people have strong guts. I also remember thinking what a good dog! She brings back a guinea pig, yum! And she didn’t eat it herself first. Maybe she already ate one, who knows? But in the novel, it’s clear she was loyal and wanted to save her family. She’s a damn good dog, not to mention a dog who is a character in a book.
“That’s half of Whale’s story. The rest of the book has chapters on each boy, Fabiano’s wife Victoria, and a couple of trips into society in the small town. The chapters all describe what it must be like to be a human with little language—like the dog Whale—and how the family interacts with their harsh surroundings.
“From the second chapter of the novel time has progressed past the drought, and the farm is starting to thrive. The owner occasionally comes to inspect and always criticizes Fabiano’s management. Fabiano has limited language to respond and just waits for the owner to go away.
“Many things are left unexplained in the novel, for example twice they seem to have enough money to go to town. On one trip Fabiano gets drunk and into a scuffle with a militiaman who wears a yellow uniform. They throw him in jail for a few days, and when he gets out, he staggers back to the farm and wonders how he will explain this to Victoria.
“If you are wondering if this book has political content, yes. The author was a member of the Communist Party and spent some time in jail for that. Authority figures in the book—the owner, the soldier, and the town counsel—are shown as oppressing the ‘animals’ who are the people who live on the land.
“But today I just want to focus on Whale. Tragically, Fabiano decides he must euthanize Whale. She is flea-infested, her fur is falling off, exposing abscessed patches of skin, and Fabiano is afraid she has rabies. Readers empathize with Whale but also see that Fabiano has little choice. He couldn’t afford a vet if there were one, and Whale is suffering greatly. He worries what his boys will think of him if he kills the dog. He has a firearm; actually, just an old-fashioned flint musket that fires an iron ball.
“He manages to shoot Whale, but only in the leg so she runs off confused and bleeding. Whale does not necessarily connect the gunshot to Fabiano; the dog doesn’t know what a gun is. Fabiano feels guilt. The dog had saved the family’s life, and here he was shooting his boys’ pet. Fabiano is thinking about Whale being found by the vultures.”
Kenneth stopped. “This is sad, y’all!”
People in the restaurant murmured comments together. “Yes it is, but it’s a good story. It’s literature, like The Grapes of Wrath.”
Kenneth continued. “But today is a happy day, ya’ll. It’s Green Eggs and Spam day at JHOP!”
“Yes it is, uh-huh—you got that right!” murmured the crowd.
“So now I’m going to tell y’all the happy part about Miss Jasmine. Do you want the funny version or the straight version?” Kenneth asked the customers.
“Ain’t nothing funny about an eighty-one-year-old lady falling off her damn porch!” said Miss Jasmine.
The customers laughed.
Kenneth said, “Well, you can decide if this is funny or not, but to me it’s touching. It was twenty years ago today, and this ain’t no Beatles song, ya’ll. It was February 10, 2000, and cold. About thirty-five degrees. The version I’m telling is what Larry, me, and Miss Jasmine pieced together after the fact.
“February 2000, that’s the day I was born—February 10 to be exact,” smiled Jackson Jackson.
Miss Jasmine interrupted. “Can’t you at least get the date right, Kenneth? It was February 2001.”
“Sorry,” said Kenneth, “I changed the date so I could be John Lennon and say, ‘It was twenty years ago today…’
“I had been staying with Miss Jasmine for five weeks. Now, y’all, I had been homeless for nearly twenty years, and Miss Jasmine is my aunt but she never knew that until I was forty. She learned about me and gave me a place to stay. I didn’t have no job; she said that she had money but there was a condition. Treat people with respect, she said. That’s it.
“So, I moved in. One morning she says, ‘It’s too damn cold for me today, Kenneth. And we need some groceries. I’m going to send you to the store.’
“She handed me some money and a list. I told her, ‘Now, Aunt Jasmine, you know I can’t read. Can you please tell me what’s on the list?’
“She read it to me, and I memorized it. When I was leaving, she said, ‘I don’t want you buying no crack. You’d better come back with my damn groceries!’
A buzz went around the restaurant. “That Miss Jasmine runs a tight ship—don’t rock the boat!”
They got quiet.
“Truth is I never done no crack. Miss Jasmine just likes to be histrionic.” Kenneth beamed at Miss Jasmine’s table.
“Occasionally I like to show off a word.”
“Histrionic, what’s that?” one of the customers asked.
“Overly theatrical or melodramatic in character or style,” said Kenneth. “Maybe I can’t read, but I ain’t stupid. And Miss Jasmine taught me how to speak ‘properly’ if I need to. She calls it code switching.”
Kenneth continued: “So, I go out to the store for the groceries, and this is where we have to piece it together because Miss Jasmine fell off the porch and had a concussion. Didn’t break no bones, but a concussion and some bruises. That’s a four-foot drop from the porch.
“Here comes Larry walking down the sidewalk. He’s on his way to work as a librarian.”
“Larry ain’t no librarian,” said a man at a window table. “He cleaned toilets at the library! And then he got fired!”
Rosemary stood up, all six-foot-four of her. “Now you be careful what you say. Larry worked at a library, so he’s a librarian. Don’t make me come over there!”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the man. “He’s a librarian like you say. My bad!”
Rosemary sat down, looked at Larry, and whispered to him laughing, “You just cleaned the goddamn toilets is all you did, and you call yourself a librarian.”
“Shit,” said Larry laughing, and then Kenneth continued…