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July 20, 2005
Remembering A Time
Even at fourteen years-old my buddy Tylor knows that cancer is going to rob him of his future. He and I spoke this last weekend about special moments in our lives. Moments in time that we both treasure. The following journal entry reflects one of those times for me (I’m going to ask Tylor which special moments he’d like to share and I will post his answer upon receipt.):
I confess. It was me who set Chico free, although Bruce J. was there at the time. (Chico was a baboon. Our army unit’s mascot. He was captured on the South African border with Zimbabwe and brought back to our base camp.)
Chico was tied to a tree with a long chain which allowed him to climb the trunk and sleep in the branches. Chico was a wonderful animal. I really liked him because he was affectionate and had a sense of humor similar to mine. Well, maybe not his sense of humor per say, more like his laugh. (I was often told I laughed like a baboon by the school bully.)
A number of us were opposed to Chico’s capture and tried hard to make him happy. We often hung out with him and enjoyed his hugs. He always tried to groom us and he loved to look through our pockets for change, which he’d grab and run off with.
We gave Chico a teddy bear to keep him company while we were away (sometimes for days) on maneuvers. Chico loved that bear and could often be seen nurturing and caressing it.
My decision to free Chico came after I brought him some left over fruit from my dinner in the mess hall one day. As I approached his tree I saw a group of new recruits taunting him. They were trying to get Chico to smoke a cigarette. Because I out-ranked the men, I told them to move along and not to let me catch them messing with the baboon again.
I stood guard later that night and my shift ended at 2am. My friend Bruce and I walked past Chico’s tree on our way back to our tent. It was pretty dark and we couldn’t see Chico very clearly. I walked a little closer and suddenly realized that he was not alone. Chico and another baboon were huddled together at the base of the tree. It was so touching and heartbreaking to see the two of them holding each other like scared little children.
When the other baboon saw us it scampered off into the bush and I saw Chico look longingly after it. He then turned and looked at us. The sadness in his eyes and the slight tilt of his head was all it took. My heart broke. I decided there and then to release him. (It was a tough decision though because the consequence of letting him loose were dire. Staff-Sergeant Reyeneke (who considered Chico HIS pet) promised he would make the life of anyone who released Chico a living hell for the remainder of his two year service. Reyeneke was a tyrant and nobody wanted to be on his bad side.)
Bruce acted as a lookout while I approached Chico. The baboon backed away from me, probably thinking I was going to taunt him like the new recruits had done earlier that day. I stepped back and approached him again, this time crouching and softly whispering to him. (I must admit I was afraid of being bitten because baboons can be rather nasty when provoked.)
I got to Chico and reached out my hand. He took my hand and climbed onto my hip (Like he often did when we brought him fruit.) He clung to me like a child.
I unhooked the chain from around his neck and walked away from the tree with him. Chico hung onto me for dear life. He whimpered a little as I moved toward the edge of the clearing. It seemed like he did not want to go.
I put him down and without hesitation he scampered away from me toward the bush. Then he stopped, turned and ran back over to the tree where he was previously chained.
“No. Chico,” I whispered. “Go. Get out of here.”
“Shoo.” Whispered Bruce loudly. “Go on, get.”
Chico got to the tree and jumped up into the fork. He dug around for a few seconds and then dropped down to the ground and scuttled toward the undergrowth.
“Get out of here,” I urged.
As he neared the bush, he stopped and turned toward us. That’s when I noticed Chico was carrying his teddy bear. I smiled to myself now realizing why he had gone back to the tree.
Way off in the distance I heard an echo of the other baboon howling in the bush. Chico heard it too.
He tucked the teddy bear under his arm, gave us one last chatter of ‘monkey words’ and disappeared into the undergrowth.
Posted by trevor at July 20, 2005 06:17 PM
Comments
Trev - do you think Reyeneke is still looking for us? I remember Chico well. Especially the time he used my earlobe as a pacifier.
Posted by: Bruce at July 21, 2005 09:50 AM
Freeing a fellow being is definitely worth risking hell in my book.
Posted by: Nicole Stern at July 21, 2005 03:02 PM
"..Baboons can be rather nasty when provoked." I have a guess at a rough translation of Chico's parting "monkey words". It goes along the lines of: "You might want to get those guys with the nasty smoking thing put on kitchen duty for a while. Once I make it back to my baboon buddies, they are better off staying out of the forest." Great story, Mr. Romain. Thank you.
Posted by: E.K. at July 21, 2005 05:45 PM
"Love the earth and the sun and animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and the crazy, devote your income and labors to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence towards the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown, or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and mothers of families, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency, not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body."
~ Walt Whitman, "Leaves of Grass"
Mr. Romain, you are my hero! You are a master storyteller. You are a humanitarian. You are the personification of Walt Whitman’s words in the above quotation.
As I ruminate on the content of each of the tender, touching, and inspiring entries of yours that I have had the distinct pleasure of reading as of late; it is this entry that has deeply cut me to the quick.
I am so relieved that your compassion for Chico’s deplorable living conditions actuated you and Bruce to defy orders and free him and his beloved teddy bear from captivity.
The meritorious conduct of both you and Bruce should be duly commended. I deeply thank you for your benevolent act towards Chico.
“and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency . . .”
I am sincerely honored to read of this noble and exquisite deed that shall contribute the loveliest of stanzas to the grand poem of your life.
Posted by: Kilowatt at July 22, 2005 05:27 AM
That is the most touching story I've read in ages! Thank you for sharing :)
Posted by: Lesley at July 23, 2005 07:02 AM
A very sweet and heartwarming story. =)
Posted by: Shannon at July 23, 2005 06:40 PM
Heart Art always makes me smile. Eternal Beauty.
Once someone see's just one Flower, they never forget it's Beauty, do they? It is a lil' piece of Heaven here on Earth. I am blessed by these Flowers, these Ones.
We can each leave behind many Flowers. Personally, I hope to leave behind many flowers in the hearts of my family, friends and those strangers I come across. Perhaps it will inspire their own Gardens.
This is a very sweet and thoughtful gesture created for all of us. The above flower will last forever.
And so just one person touches many ... Just One.
Thank you for sharing your Flowers. =)
~Shannon
Ps.
>From the very little I have read here, I see Tylor doing just that. His Heart, as shared by you - his contagious and infectious behavior have affected many, including you. Just One Person has touched so many and the Ones' he has touched ... continue to reach out and touch even more. One plus one, plus one plus one - spreading ever outward. Forever.
What a tremendous difference we can make, not only in our own lives, yet others' too, when we have the courage to share and receive often in all areas of our lives. Hopefully we are leaving behind a legacy of kindness and optimism, in spite of. For me that is what living on Eternally means -- in that, I hope my thoughts and ideas - my 'heart art', the way I live my life - will live on in the hearts and minds of others forever.
Posted by: Shannon at July 25, 2005 09:26 AM
A perfect story for a trying morning.
Posted by: cas at August 3, 2005 11:23 AM