Tree Secrets

Chapter 17

SPIRITO – Lineal Pastures

1986

For a long moment, we just shared stares with the blue eyed man, then without a word, he went to the back of the wagon and began moving some things around, it sounded like dishes clanking together. I had the distinct feeling that, even if he wanted to, he couldn't speak to us. I racked my brain trying to remember where I saw that kind of wagon before, then it came to me. It was in one of my books from my Italian class. The book was about dialects and the island of Sicily. I tried to muster all the Italian I could remember from the book and from class. The Italian word for eat came back quickly, I think because I was so hungry. I said the word, "mangia" and though my attempts at Italian were feeble, he seemed to understand when I mimed eating.

Within a few minutes we were all sitting around a campfire enjoying some sausages and eggs. None of us spoke but there was something very familiar about this young man.

The man seemed to understand that we were all very sleepy and silently set out some blankets around the fire for us. With our stomachs full, it wasn't long before we were all in a deep, sound sleep. The next morning, as we were rubbing the sleep out of our eyes and trying to get our bearings, we discovered the man was gone.

"Do you think he went out into the forest for more wood?" Michael asked.

"I don't think so," I said, "there's plenty of wood right here. Besides, how could he reach the trees when we can't?"

We all cupped our hands and began to yell out into the air, "Hellloooo, Are you there? Hellloooo!" The air was almost still with just a slight breeze, no response.

I walked over to the wagon and looked inside, fresh fruit, eggs, and all sorts of cured Italian sausages, hams and cheeses along with a sharp knife were neatly stacked in wood crates.

"Look," Abby said, carrying a small white piece of paper over to me, "it has writing on it."

"Where did you get it?" Lexi asked.

"It was pinned to the donkey's hair," Abby explained.

I took the note and tried to determine what it said. I knew it was in Italian, but, nothing looked familiar. I read aloud the best I could.

"Ti prego, manteni lo salutii di lo sceccu."

"What the heck does that mean?" Abby said.

"Why didn't I pay more attention in that class?" I scolded myself.

"Look, Ashley, just take it one word at a time and maybe something will click," Michael suggested.

We walked over to the front of the donkey where the sun gave better light. "Just looks like a bunch of squiggly lines to me," Lexi said.

"Right now, that's all it looks like to me too! But, I know I read about this kind of donkey." I said as I drew the paper closer to me as if it would help. "I remember, it said this particular type of donkey is the rarest of all breeds and is called a "Sicilian Donkey" though it really originated in Arabia and Africa. Legend says that Jesus road one of these donkeys into Jerusalem during the last Passover. That's why it has a cross on its back. Now that I remembered that, let's see if I can remember some of my Italian. Ok, , uh..ti, ti," I was wracking my brain, "ti usually means I and prego could mean beg or ask, damn! I don't know!" I said trying my best to recall what my Italian teacher, Mrs. Scarfo, said about pronouns and dialects.

"I don't think this is straight Italian, I think it's a dialect and that's why nothing is really clicking. Sometimes a dialect is just a slang that comes from the pure language." Some of what Mrs. Scarfo had said was coming back to me now. She said that depending on where in Italy you came from, different words mean different things

"Do you think this is Sicilian and not pure Italian?" Lexi shifted from one foot to the other unable to keep still.

"It might be, but whatever it is, it must be important because the man wouldn't have left it pinned to the donkey," I said.

"Maybe he wanted us to take the supplies and the cart and that's what the note says." Michael said hopefully.

"I'm not so sure," I said, "I think it says something else, I just don't know what. ti," I started again, ti prego, manteni... mantenti, what could that mean?"

"Oh for crying out loud, it says, Ti prego, manteni lo saluti di lo sceccu. It means, I beg you, keep the health of the donkey!" A voice from somewhere at the front of the cart said in a thick Italian accent.

We looked around to see who was talking. There was no one around.

"Well, somebody say something!" The donkey's accent was very noticeable so everyone knew it wasn't anyone in the group. Michael's jaw dropped open. I followed his gaze to see what he was looking at, Abby and Lexi did the same. I couldn't believe what I saw.

"Did you just say something?" Abby asked the donkey.

Again in a broken English/Italian accent, "Yesah, I did. And now I'm gonna say someting else. How about some of that salami?" The donkey turned his head toward us and smiled.

Lexi's eyes flew wide open. "You can talk! That's so cool," she ran up to the donkey and put her hand on its mane.

"Yeah, I can talk. Look, no oats, OK?" Filippo, he's a nice guy but all he ever give me was oats. Yeachhh!" The donkey nuzzled Abby, raised his eyebrows and tossed his head backward indicating the back of the wagon was where the salami was.

"This is nuts!" Michael said as he backed away from the donkey. "It's impossible, animals just don't speak."

The donkey looked at Michael, "Did you ever think that maybe you just no listening?"

"Michael, let's face it, nothing normal has happened today or yesterday for that matter!" I said. "There are four of us here and we all heard the donkey talk, one of us could be nuts but not all four at the same time!"

I walked around to the back of the wagon and cut a few pieces of hard salami, "Here," I said, feeding the donkey.

"MMMMM...Now that's what I call lunch!" the donkey smacked his lips and chewed as he spoke.

I patted the donkey while he ate and wondered who ever would have thought that feeding a talking donkey would be the least of my worries? I sighed, facing the rolling hills in front of us and the forest beyond. "I don't understand why we can't get any closer to that forest. I just know there's something there we need to see." The donkey looked at me, then looked away nodding his head.

Michael started loading the blankets onto the cart. "We can't just sit here, if you're bent on going to that forest, let's just do it!" He climbed into the front of the unsteady cart and took the reins. "C'mon, Ashley, you're the one who wants to do this," he said sliding over to make room for me.

"Get in the back, girls," I said as I took the seat next to Michael. "By the way," addressing the donkey, "do you have a name?"

"Yeah," the donkey said.

"Well, what is it?" I asked.

"It's Spirito."

"Well, Spirito, let's go!" I said and the donkey started clomping down the valley and up onto the next hill.

a trim blacw"