Mule and Jan: First Night on the Road!

“Morning Mule.”

“Good morning Jan.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes thank you, I got all the sleep I needed.”

“Good, good, nice one. What’s for breakfast?”

“Left over sandwiches and fruit.”

“Oh…and here’s me expecting a full English!” 

Mule looked at me and shook his head. My promise to be respectful and help out more had obviously floated off on a southerly breeze. Sometimes people say things because they feel they’ve been backed into a corner and it’s the easiest way out. Then again there are times when they make promises they don’t or can’t or never intended to keep; unfortunately if they do that on a regular basis they are deemed untrustworthy. I can see how that works and it’s hardly unusual, most people indulge in that chocolate truffle when it suits them. I am a disappointment to Mule but he doesn’t play fair; it isn’t normal to be as good as he is and always do what’s right and proper.  

“I think that you should sort yourself out quickly. We need to keep going and use the cool of the day to make headway. It’s important not to fall behind and I want to call in at the Serpentine Circus.” 

“The Serpentine Circus! Gosh! They’re busy little things aren’t they. D’you think I could get a full English there?” 

“I think you should hurry up and prepare yourself for a few hours of walking – as opposed to making flippant remarks about people and places you’ve never seen.” 

On my last trip with Mule he’d been a serious character, courteous, helpful, quick-witted but essentially serious. I don’t recall him being so grumpy as to seem distant and put out; I was picking up a sense of actual dislike and resentment, as though my presence irked him.

“I’ll tell you what Mule, you go about your business and I’ll be ready before you can say jiffy. It’s obvious that you would prefer to be anywhere but here and I can’t handle ‘sanctimonious’ this early in the day. It’s not my fault you were allocated to me but if you have such an aversion to the task perhaps you should contact Chan…L’Enchanteur and ask if it’s possible for someone else to accompany me down the turpentine road. Oh, cheers, feel free to yawn your head off when we’re in the middle of a row, very polite, very professional…what’s that on your tail?” 

There was something on Mule’s tail I hadn’t noticed before; something that looked for all the world like a ribbon or fancy coloured string. I hadn’t seen it before we’d settled down for the night and the idea that he’d deliberately choose to decorate his nether regions was inconceivable. He looked startled and yawned again in front of me, in my face if you will, a giant yawn. 

“I thought you slept well Mule, how is it you’re so tired if you got a good night’s sleep? Were you fibbing? You don’t look like you’ve had any sleep! There’s something fishy going on here, I smell a rat!” 

He was trying not to laugh out loud and believe me, when you bray like a donkey it’s difficult to hide the sniggering. The thing on his tail jiggled about like a kite that couldn’t wait any longer and wanted to flap its way skyward. I walked to the back of his shaking with blaughter (mule speak) body and took a proper look at his festive, rear end decoration.

 

“Ohhh! Oh and I say again oh! That is a party popper! A party popper! You’d better spill the beans buddy or you and I could have words! How did you get a …a… party popper on your tail in the middle of the night? How? How?” 

 

He was still falling about with amusement; it can be remarkably difficult to keep a straight face when a mule can’t stop blaughing but I was positively fuming. Ten minutes later when he no longer appeared to be demonstrating a four-legged hip-hop (hysterical, I’ll describe it to you some time) and he’d got his breath back he deigned to explain.

“I…hmm…that is…hmm…I haven’t spent the entire night sleeping… here… in this copse.” 

“You haven’t? What have you been doing if you haven’t been sleeping?” 

For future reference be very careful before you utter that specific phrase to a mule – or indeed any other living creature that possesses the power of speech. 

“I took off for a while and… hmm… I went …hmm … to an event.” 

“An event? An event! What kind of event does a mule attend in the middle of the night?” 

“Oh, a … a… party, sort of… event.”

“A party! A party? In the middle of the night when you were supposed to be sleeping, resting up for the arduous journey ahead. Whose party?”

“The serpents… that is… hmm… the serpents… were having a boogie.” 

“The serpents were having a boogie! A boogie! The serpents? It’s incredible! It’s… it’s … beyond words! The mind boggles!” 

“Booogles actually.”

“What? Boggles, booogles… what a cheek, what a nerve, I’m …   

“Speechless?” 

I would like to take this opportunity to add a cautionary note for anyone reading this and considering a trek through Lemuria – don’t. If for any reason it is impossible and you have to venture forth try to make sure that you interview your guide. Even when the guide is allocated, there is nothing quite so humiliating as waking up in the morning to find out that your mule has been bopping whilst you have been blissfully unaware in the land of nod. 

“How did you know the serpents were having a boogie? How do serpents boogie anyway? No! Don’t tell me, I’m not sure I can handle the answer.”  

Mule had completely calmed down by now and gone so far as to adopt both his serious face and tone. His explanation was, I have to admit, intriguing.

 

“It was a birthday bash for one of the young serpents, he was celebrating his eighty eight which went marvellously even though someone sneaked in illegal grog. As for how do serpents boogie they are brilliant if you must know for they are both lithe and daring. When it comes to my knowing, I found out months ago on a weekend break in Duwamish, a visit you have never bothered to make even though you have lived in Lemuria for at least a year.”

 

“Well excuse me my ignorance Mule, I hadn’t realised Duwamish was such a mine of information on the metropolis which passes for Lemurian nightlife. So what happened? Did a serpent slime by with a flyer, call in at the stables and give you the goss on what to put in your diary for the movers and shakers of snake village? Whoo hoo.”

 

“No, nothing of the sort, you couldn’t be further from the truth. I was given an invitation in a gold leaf envelope made from the skin of a highly prestigious serpent elder and I was most certainly not in a stable.”

 

“So where were you? Having a look round town? Casting your eyes round the old curiosity shop to see if you could pick up a bargain?”

“I was doing what most mules do when they’re taking a weekend break in Duwamish.”

“Come on then, reveal all.”

 

“I was sitting on the dock of the bay Jan; perhaps you should try it some time.”

 

Jan

 

(The picture is of a serpent boogie when it’s been infiltrated with illegal grog!)