The Jaded Lizard

No one dies of nausea, but it can seriously sap the will to live.

-Yann Martel, Life of Pi

By Jorge Agurcia Fasquelle
After weeks of fun in the sun, on the way to the pier that day I ran into Danny Jones, local raconteur and steadfast member of the island spirit committee. Like any respectable pirate descendant, he was cooking meat on a spit over hot coals. When he saw me eyeing his lunch-to-be he figured he had to explain. But I guess he also wanted to include some advice for the traveler that looked somewhat fed up with paradise.

As he pointed at the makeshift BBQ, it actually looked like one of Danny’s own dreadlocks being roasted on a stick, this is more or less the way it went:

“Ya George, you see dat dere lizard? She be no Monkey-La-La lizard, no, she be a garr-oboe lizard, mon. Like dey have on da meenland. Bot dis one dere, she be an island garr-oboe. An iguana.

“Well, dis iguana dere one day done tole oll hore lizard friends dat she be jeeded from oll da sun an’ da sand an’ whatnot, an dat she be goin’ on a little trip. She tell dem she be goin’ to da meenland. She say she never been to Ceeba, an’ dat she got some family dere, an’ so she gonna pack hore bags an’ joss go.

“Truth mon! She be one jeeded lizard. Nobody go to Ceeba from dee island onless dey be jeeded, mon.

“She tell dem, hore oddar lizard friends, dat she gonna book passage on a took-took from Joneswill because she donna have no money to pee for da ticket on Islena, an’ dat she’s afreed of flying in a pleen anyhow, cos dem knows how dem pleens likes to stop in da middle of da ocean sometimes. So she joss gonna take a dory, an’ dats joss fine wid hore anyhow.

“So hore acquaintance, da gecko -- who’s alwees getting’ high on ganja cos he live up on da rafter berm in da’ Spliff Momma’s house, y’know -- he says to hore, ‘How’s you gonna get on a took-took when’s you know you’s getting sea sick an oll, joss by lookin’ at da water from here? When last you get on a bo-att you damn fool iguana? Doan you know dat dere be only one cure fo’ sea sickness, an’ dats to go sit onder a tree?’

“Bot dis iguana, she be so jeeded dat she no care too much about dat, an she in no mood to listen to no patronizing reptile wid a head, so she done give da gecko a swift ass’n wid hore teel an’ dat gecko, mon, he fly in between da trees an learns hisself not to mess wid no jeeded lizard ever again.”

“Ya George, after seein’ dat gecko fly tru da trees, da rest of dem joss torned around an’ went back to dere holes dere, cos dey doan feel like getting’ assed by no jeeded lizard thinkin’ horeself better’n dem. So da iguana, she grob hore bag an’ she teek off downhill to da ocean, an’ dere she climb onto da dock an’ begin to weet for a proper dory to teek hore across to da meenland.

“She know -- dat lizard be jeeded, but she be no fool -- dat if a Sponniard see hore she no gonna live long -- cos dem Sponniards bod, mon, dem kills anyting dat move -- so she hide good; she tuck horeself underneath da berms on dat pier, an dere she weet. Until finally a bo-att come by, an’ so she jump onboard an’ scramble underneat dem thwarts an’ into da aft motor box. Dere she done curl up on top an’ ole calabash dat be floatin’ oround on da bilge water, an she be happy for a while.

“Bot guess what, mon. Dat craft no goin’ to Ceeba at oll! No sir. Dat cop’n joss goin’ ot to da channel to cotch some conch for supper, dass oll!

“So after a while, dey be ot on da swells an’ dat dere iguana start to feel hore breakfast risin’ op. Ya mon, dat da truth! She begin to feel sick an’ she no like dat movement, no sir, she no like dat rollin’ an’ swee’ing at oll. An dem vapors comin’ ot of da motor, oooh mon, dey be stee’in inside da motor box, an’ dat joss meek hore sicker still. Ontil dat lizard, she no longer be jeeded, mon, no’ she joss wanna die!

“And then, when she canno’ longer stand it, tinking to horeself dat Obeah done got hore for ass’n da gecko, she finally come ot… an’ she joss pass ot on da deck! Yesss mon! Dere she be, lyin’ on dem flour sacks which be my seel, joss pass’d ot, an’ hore tongue be stickin’ ot, an’ she be all green ‘round da gills an’ oll dat, da poor ting.

“Yes sir, I be dat cop’n, mon, an’ like a God fearin’ Christian I done put hore out of hore misery right den an’ dere wid my paddle. Oll dat happin dis mornin’, right here, on dis hoppy an’ beautiful island dat da Good Lord done give us… an’ by da wee, am very hoppy to see you no longer lookin’ so jeeded dere, mister George!

“Have yo’sell a nice dee.” (1/5/12) (photo courtesy Internet)

Note: The author is a free-lance writer. He was a permanent contributor to Honduras This Week, under the by-line "The Leeward Course." Editor of the INCAE student magazine, "Vínculo," retired banker, taught business ethics at university, Knight of the Order of Malta, and was awarded the Commander's Cross of the Order Pro Merito Melitense in 2001 for his volunteer work; he lives in Tegucigalpa, Honduras.