Eno Fruit Salt
“Say your name again?” asked Juggernaut.
“Eno,” came the reply with an accent. The man appears to be in late sixties; he made a short pony tail in the back and left the grey beard hanging loose. His accent was neither American nor British, some kind of unknown European but clearly he can communicate in English, only one has to have patience to listen him carefully to fully understand.
“I can relate to your name Eno.”
“I grew up drinking Eno Fruit Salt drink, a kind of a mild medicated salt drink to sooth the stomach after a heavy meal or a wedding feast,” said Juggernaut rubbing his stomach with his palm.
“I am glad you can remember my name somehow,” Eno laughed exposing his teeth, some missing and few gold capped. “I can relate to Indians, while growing up in London, my parents boarded students from India, remember names like Choudary, Singh and Swamy.”
“How come you don’t have English accent growing up in England?” Juggernaut was curious.
“Well, I born in Hungary but my parents left Hungary when I was ten to England to escape communist rule, so my accent was set already and also grew up among Hungarian community in London where everybody spoke Hungarian,” Eno spoke slowly dragging each word to completion before uttering the next word.
“How you ended up on the Big Island?”
“I am an American citizen since early seventies through my marriage to an American woman in London, you see American women get bored pretty quick with men, so we departed, she went back to the United States.”
“How about Hungarian women?”
“Hungarian women are faithful but at the age of forty they look sixty and at fifty they look seventy; American women look young even at an old age.” “I remained in London until mid seventies then came to the United States working on a cruise ship. My father taught me a lot about photography and restoring old paintings so I did lot of work restoring old paintings at rich people mansions in West Palm Beach and other effluent communities and later moved to New Orleans, learned to play trumpet and made living as a musician, married to a woman 30 years younger than me, she left after few years, then I went back working on cruise ships that’s how I reached the Big Island, I abandoned the job on the ship to remain here ever since 2009,” Eno completed the last sentence as if he was relieved a burden of expressing himself.
“Do you still work on art restoration?”
“No, not here, people here were poor here. I am hoping to mind cows for a man, an ex-Silicon Valley entrepreneur and a visionary.”
“Have you milked a cow before?” Juggernaut was doubtful.
“Well, I milked goats in the past growing up in Hungary,” Eno started hand movements as if milking an animal.
“There is a big difference between milking goats and cows you know.”
“To milk the goats I squeeze the end of the teats but for cows, I understand that both hands are used to squeeze the four teats alternating one or two at a time, I have to draw down the milk by squeezing at the base of the teats and quickly moving towards the tips,” Eno try to explain with his palms squeezing imaginary cow teats.
“That’s all sounds good in theory, in practice keeping the cow steady and milking is an art by itself like restoring old paintings,” Juggernaut looked at Eno’s body. “What’s the story behind all those tattoos on your body?”
“Well, most people have paper work to show their life events like date of birth, wedding, divorce, birth of a child, relocation etc., I got tattooed depicting my life events; you see this one, the face of my first wife, this was the ship I sailed from London to New York in early seventies, like that most of the tattoos on my body depicts most memorable life events,” Eno pointed out each one of the tattoos explaining its significance.
“So, you chronicled your life events permanently on your body, I am sure you left some space on your body for future events to come.”
“I am sure I will find space perhaps depicting a cow if I were to mind cows in future,” Eno was looking for blank spaces on his body.
“I am sure Eno, you will find space somewhere if not you may consider removing few very old ones to make room for new ones, kind of restoring old paintings.”
“I cannot afford to remove old tattoos, it cost lots of money, like an old scar, I just have to live with it.”
“Well, it was good meeting you, let me know when you start minding cows, I love to see you milking cows, certainly I could never forget your name Eno,“ Juggernaut licked his lips reminiscing the tingling sensation he had from the effervescence whenever a pinch of Eno Fruit Salt wad mixed with water to drink.
© Copyright 2016 Juggernaut. All rights reserved.
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