Aranansi #9: Andre Bursts In

February 14, 2010, 20:58

There came a lively rapping at the door of my little workshop home. Morris the Minah who had been dozing making sleepy little gurgling squawks as he perched on the elephant’s head lamp in the corner, woke with loud raspy whistle.

“It’s just the door,” I said as I got up from my work and crossed the room.

I opened the door and blinked at the light. I had been doing some small detail work, and my eyes were not yet ready for the big sun filled day outside. When my eyes came into focus, there stood Andre, an interesting awkward man, sharp and bright yet dark and brooding at the same time. I never know how to approach him, but he is always full of life and ideas. I was glad to see him.

“You have to come with me!” He burst past me into my room working hard to contain his excitement gesturing largely with his arms and hands. “I have found the most fascinating shop, and it is right around the corner from here.”

“Well I’m almost finished with the work I am doing,” I said rearranging my mental day as I spoke. “You could have a cup of tea and talk with Morris for a few minutes while I finish this up. Then I could go with you.”
He looked around, a little embarrassed at not noticing my other guest. “Oh, Hello you old squawker,” he shouted cheerily when he finally located Morris on the lamp. “How’s your Rimbaud these days?”
“Passable, but I am starting to forget some of the more obscure parts. Getting a bit long in the beak, you know.”
“It’s been a long time. Where have you been hiding?”
“I’ve been here and there and just about everywhere since I saw you last.”
” Well I suspect that is the case. I have been right here in this city trying to figure out how to make a living and keep the demons at bay.”
They talked and I worked as Andre made tea. There conversation was like a story about two friends who spend years trying to find each other and then realize they have very little in common.
“I’m finally done with that,” I said as I finished the last touches on the small piece I was engraving. “And not a bad job either. If I do say so myself, which I do.”
Andre put down his tea and came to look over my shoulder. “Very nice indeed,” he agreed a little too loudly. Andre is always very generous and enthusiastic when he wants to show me one of his discoveries.

This entry was posted in Aranansi, conversations, Dreamtime, Fiction, Telling Stories and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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