The sun was shining all about, shining with all its might and I was whistling in the barn with a pitchfork in my right hand. I’d filled the wheelbarrow with straw and droppings from Ari’s stall and raked dry bedding
The sun was shining all about, shining with all its might and I was whistling in the barn with a pitchfork in my right hand. I’d filled the wheelbarrow with straw and droppings from Ari’s stall and raked dry bedding away from the middle so wet spots could dry. I wheeled the wheelbarrow to the compost heap and forked it inside. Ari and Boots, my grown up puppy, love to watch this task, I don’t know why.
When the rapping came from the red gates, I was annoyed. I looked a mess, probably reeked of a ladylike glow — some folk call it sweat — it’s healthy to break sweat but it’s not a good time to welcome company. When the rapping persisted, pitchfork in hand, I stomped, again in a ladylike fashion, to the gate.
“Nobody’s home,” I said.
More rapping.
I opened the gate a crack. The sight that greeted me took my breath away. A handsome golden Palomino with a gorgeous bare torso, shoulders arms and a handsome human head, smiled sweetly down. “You wanted to chat?”
“I did?”
“I’m a Breatharian,” his tenor charmed the birds.
“You look like a centaur.”
“I am. Call me Art.”
“Art. How appropriate. Please come in. I’m cleaning the barn.” He nodded. I opened the gates wide, then closed them. Boots and Ari went east as Art and I moved west. “Aristotle is my horse. He eats. Poops. I’ve a clean stall. Perhaps he won’t mind if we chat there.”
“He won’t.” He lay down in the fresh straw. We were suddenly staring eyeball to eyeball.
“Where on earth did you come from?”
“From Sirius. In the constellation Canis Major, the brightest star in the winter sky.”
“Why are you here?”
“You called me.”
“No. I mean on planet Earth?”
“I’m here to teach you how to clean up the mess you’ve made of this beautiful planet. “
“If you could teach Aristotle not to eat and poop that’d help. Tell me about yourself.”
“I live on light. Vibrations. Composite vibrational aspects can collectively be thought of as having one composite quality. “
“Of course.”
“You’d love my planet. The sea and the sky are pink. Vibrant froth that smells like Shalimar. We loved that scent. We took it home with us. Grass is blue and many trees are shimmering silver. We’ve kept our planet gloriously clean.”
“Are there lady centaurs?”
“Yes. But when they come to Earth, they come as human ladies. They’re avatars, ascended spirits. Life-loving maternal beings. They teach humans to let go stress and greed and hate and depression and heartache and addiction to violence.”
“That sounds good. Healthy. I’m not surprised they come as women. I think I’ve met some. Many women on Earth today seem so much wiser, kinder, stronger than men.”
“These women naturally, spontaneously manifest themselves emotionally and spiritually to a place that resonates peace and love …”
With that, he vanished.
I love fantasy. Kids should be taught to fantasize from the get-go. It’s a healthy human condition.
• Bettejo Dux is a Kalaheo resident and the author of “The Scam: A madcap romp through North Shore Kauai.”
