Sexless

Sexless

       By Douglas the Bull

A Eunuch sat by a fence underneath a bilibob tree eating what remained of his coocoo bird. He sang a song about the animal that had provided him with his day’s sustenance. He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief with which to wipe his lips. Then he rose and started toward the town that lay at some five trumpets’ distance. When he reached the first houses he knocked on one and asked for water. At the service station two blocks further along he made use of the telephone. A truck idled in the carwash bay with the driver inside the station buying something. The eunuch got in and drove away. This was better. Walking irritated him.

       A beggar at the side of the road took the ride he offered him. He halted at a roadside truck stop and they entered. Here he purchased that worthy two nips and two large plates of French fries. Both of these disappeared down the hungry man’s gullet. Then he ordered beers and they drank these outside in the hot sun but under the canopy provided by the management.

       “Where do you hale from?” asked the eunuch.

       “I was raised on the other side of the island in the desert,” the beggar replied. He chewed peanuts and swallowed beer. His nodding told the eunuch that he much appreciated all this fine food. He looked about him as if searching for more to eat, but then rose and borrowed a paper napkin from a neighboring table with which to wipe his mouth. He didn’t acknowledge the young woman sitting there. Now he sat back down and resumed work on the contents of his mug.

       “My father ranched there. He did not do well, though he drank a great deal. My mother left him and us when I was fourteen. My father did not know anything about caring for children.” He paused and a silence ensued.

       “Have you read Heart of Darkness?” the eunuch asked, speaking finally. After a lengthy silence, the beggar replied that he had not had that pleasure but would take it at the first opportunity. Pipes were produced. Tobacco was lit and inhaled. A few languid sips of beer followed. The day was exceedingly hot, even for the area around Brisbane, and both men perspired.

       “I am glad to be here under this canopy instead of under the sun,” said the beggar at last. “The worst is the heat. The next worst is the dust. I abhor dust from passing vehicles.” He did not expand. The eunuch nodded his agreement and looked about him to see what else might be nearby to excite his interest. His watch was an old one and no longer reliable. He seldom consulted it. It itched him now. Sweat did that. The girl at the table near theirs had her back to them and he saw her shoulders calmly moving now and then as if she were turning the pages of a novel. She read quickly, that he could tell.

       “Nice truck!” the beggar spoke. The eunuch agreed and asked if he would like to have it. The beggar looked at him for a few minutes in silence. Then he laughed and winked. But the eunuch reached the keys across to him and asked if he knew how to drive.

       “Of course I know how! I grew up on a farm! He laughed again as he fiddled with the keys. Then he rose and doglegged toward the vehicle. He stopped to look at the eunuch’s face and then climbed into the cab. The eunuch watched him drive away. The beggar had trouble with the gears but soon disappeared out of sight. The eunuch finished the beer before him. Walking, he thought. I detest it. He nodded at the girl as he passed her table. She smiled and her black hair shook.