Dirty Aristocrat

‘Want to share?’ he asked, tapping the thorny fruit with his knife. He knew I couldn’t bear the smell and he took great pleasure in tormenting me with it.

‘Nooooo,’ I said, crinkling my nose and pulling a face.

‘Hello,’ Ivan called out from the steps.

I grinned at Rosli. ‘You know what, open the fruit. Let Ivan smell it.’

‘You sure?’

‘Absolutely.’

Immediately Rosli squatted down and started hacking away at the fruit. Slipping his fingers into the cut at the top of the fruit. he pulled it apart until it separated into two pieces.

Instantly the disgusting reek hit me. He picked up a golden bit of flesh and started eating it.

When Ivan came to us he gave me a strange look. He then looked at Rosli.

‘Want some fruit, Ivan?’ I asked innocently.

‘Jesus, what the fuck is that smell? It smells like something’s crawled up in here and died.’

I laughed. ‘It’s that fruit there.’

‘It’s a durian, isn’t it?’ he said, making a disgusted face.

‘You like fruit, don’t you? Try it,’ I urged with a cheeky grin.

‘No thanks.’

‘Chicken shit,’ I taunted.

He crossed his arms. ‘Have you tried it?’

‘No she hasn’t,’ Rosli piped up. He was sucking the flesh off the fruit and grinning from ear to ear at the same time.

I shot Rosli an ugly glance.

‘Right,’ Ivan said in a voice slower than a bread wagon with biscuit wheels.

I squirmed uncomfortably.

‘I’ll have it if you have it too,’ he challenged with a devilish look.

I took a deep breath. Oh shit. I pretended to be unconcerned. ‘Sure.’

He bent down to pick up one of the fruit halves and held it up to me. Immediately, the pungent smell of something in the late stages of rotting mixed with smelly socks filled my nostrils

making me want to gag. I tried hard not to jerk back. ‘Well, we have to do it together,’ I said.

‘All right, but you have to swallow.’

‘Ha, ha,’ I said.

He took one piece and I took another. I held my nose with the fingers of my left hand and prepared to put it into my mouth.

‘At the count of three,’ he said.

‘I’m ready.’

Rosli was happily chewing and watching us curiously.

‘One, two, three …’

I stuffed it into my mouth and my eyes bulged. It was like eating rotten mushroom. Slimy and disintegrating on my tongue. Horrible. Just horrible. Both of us looked at each and then both

of us spat it out at the exact same time.

Rosli was rolling on the sand with laughter as we raced to the water’s edge and rinsed out our mouths with saltwater.

‘Oh my God! That was vile,’ I cried as we both erupted into laughter. While he laughed I looked at him. The sun had already browned him. His eyes were full of warmth and he looked so

relaxed and happy. If only he could always be like that.

That evening we went to watch a nest of turtle eggs hatching. If at all possible I never missed one of those. I had seen twenty-five so far, and every single time I saw those tiny little

turtles scramble out of their nest and start running out to sea, I felt as if I had received a blessing. The other volunteers had also turned up. It was the culmination of all their

work, seeing those babies hatch, and watching their mad dash to the sea.

Rosli gently caught a baby turtle and put it into Ivan’s cupped palms. I saw him look in wonder at the little thing squirming in his hands for all it was worth.

I knew exactly how he felt. The first time I held one in my palm I almost cried because I knew it would probably not make it to adulthood, but I prayed it would anyway. That it would

come back to Penyu Island and carry on the cycle of its evolution. I felt such a great love and sense of responsibility for it. Its little legs were hard and covered in sand and they

thrashed on my palm. It kept craning its little neck towards the sea as if it could hear it or smell it.

Ivan looked up at me, his face and eyes shining.

‘He’s gorgeous,’ isn’t he?’ I said.

‘Gorgeous,’ he repeated.

Very gently, Ivan held his palm close to the sand and the little creature raced out.

‘Good luck little fellow,’ I called out watching them race towards the sea. To my surprise Ivan took my hand.

‘So you liked him,’ he said softly.

‘I’m more fond of him than I am of you,’ I replied.

His eyes sparkled with laughter. ‘You’re in so much trouble,’ he warned.

‘You best know that we’re going to have matching caskets,’ I promised.

He bent his head to my ear and whispered, ‘I’d love to put you into one of those pregnancy stirrups, your cunt open, wet and ready for me. I’d shove my tongue into you and lick you for

hours.’