Letter From America: Pelican Pie
Ronnie Bray was taken aback when a chap said that his favourite desert was Pelican Pie...
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I was taken aback by a chap informing me that his favourite desert was Pelican Pie. There was a quaint old-time air about him and his apparel. I was intrigued and decided to interrogate.
"Are there many pelicans around here?"
"Sure are," he drawled laconically. "Lots of ‘em."
"I didn’t know that."
"You must be new in these parts, huh?"
"A couple of years." I tried laconically just for fun.
"Ah. Well, I’m surprised you haven’t seen ‘em yet. They’re everywhere."
"Where’s the best place to find them?"
"In the trees!"
"In the trees?"
"Yup. In the trees."
"Any special trees, or are they in all trees?"
His visage went blank, then pale, then slightly red, and his countenance went wide-eyed as his jaw dropped so fat that it clanked onto his waistcoat button.
"You’ll only find ‘em in pelican trees!'' he admonished with surprising emphaticism.
"Pelican trees?" I asked perplexedly.
"What else? He demanded. It was apparent that he was enjoying the exchange far more than I was, for his face broadened into a lugubrious glow, evidence of his pleasure at my discomfort. "What else, indeed?" I asked inwardly, wondering if I could get away without him thinking me rude. He started up again, interrupting my escape planning.
"You ever read the Good book?"
I admitted I had.
"Well," he continued, "What does it say about gathering figs and thistles?"
"You can’t get figs from thistles?" I said defensively, afraid where this could be leading and shifting myself uneasily inside my coat to see how much freedom my present clothing allowed me before I changed it for a more restricting straight jacket.
"Right! You can’t get figs from thistles," he repeated as if he had said something important.
"But you can get pelicans from trees?"
"That’s what I’m trying to tell you, but only from pelican trees!" I pictured trees laden with pelicans, being plucked at harvest time. It didn’t work for me.
"And you can get these pelicans from the trees and cook them into pies?"
"Delicious!" he said, "But you don’t have to cook them."
"What! You eat them raw?" My voice had risen to C above the C above middle C, and was in danger of disappearing somewhere up inside the top of my head, never to be heard again.
"You never eaten raw pelican?"
"Never!"
"Would you like some? I only have bits left, but you’re welcome to them" He reached in his pocket and brought out a small plastic food bag. "Here, try one of these." He thrust the bag in my face.
"Er, I’m a vegetarian!" I burbled, thinking I had the perfect answer.
My friend laughed. "Vegetarians eat these all the time. They don’t count as meat!"
"But … pelicans are BIRDS!"
"Birds?"
"Yes, pelicans are birds. They have feathers. They lay eggs, they …
He laughed. He roared!
"Oh no they’re not birds, young fella, they’re nuts! Look!" I looked in his plastic bag and saw that he was offering pecan nuts.
"They are pecans," I said.
"That’s right, pelicans, and you can eat them raw or bake them in a pie. My favourite is pelican pie, like I told you."
"You said pelican, but you meant pecan?"
"That’s what I said." He said. "Nuts. Pelican nuts and pelican pie.
"Right I said. Pecans."
"That’s what I said. Pelicans!"
"Right," I said, but by then I was too far away for him to have heard me.
Copyright © 2006 – Ronnie Bray
http://www.2theheart.com/author_ronnie_bray
http://www.meridianmagazine.com/voices/011024summer.html
