Halfway between Mweka and Boenda near the Lienda River, deep in the jungles of Zaine, lay on of the most appetizing, aromatic and palatable visions one would ever encounter.” So wrote the Great Grandfather Kyle.
His last letter unfolded a story which until now leaned more towards fiction than fact. Great Grandfather had stumbled upon a restaurant run by an ex-chef, ex-explorer names Joseph J. L’Enzo. “Delicacies until then were untitillated by the local type who came from miles around to partake in the festivities. They came, the old and young by elephant, buffalo or by vine. Singles couples, complete families, all dropped in. Special events and parties often ran into the next day accompanied by food and drink cooked by natives and served by monkeys. It was a most fascinating experience only to be surpasses by the meals itself.”
So wrote Great Grandfather.
The letter fades somewhat here detailing some of the delicacies served. On the whole, this fanciful fictional piece of communication was read with a smile and carefully folded away.
However, I bring it up again because the other day while cleaning out Great Grandfather’s old chest my wife discovered an old tattered telegram which read :
I have made over thirty dollars since i got here.STOP.You had better come out as soon as you can. STOP. Opening new franchise.STOP.
Dated: November 21, 1886, Zaire,Africa”
The telegram had finally explained the sudden disappearance of Great Grandfather Fran. It was a shocking revelation. My wife and I suddenly looked ar one another each guessing at the precise moment what the other had been thinking. During that very day we had learned of a new restuarant opening soon. It promised to serve exquisite food and a wide assortment of drinks along with excellent service amidst a jungle motif. The establishment was to be named Monkey Joe’s.
Somehow, it makes me wonder. No, it couldn’t possible be.