“… All right then, bananas. We haven't done them, have we?”
“You can't teach calculus to a chimpanzee. So just share your banana.”
Rachel, John. (2015). Blinders Keepers. Literary Vagabond Books.
__________
Jacob was abruptly seized by an agonizing sensation of constriction, as though some invisible force was compressing him from every side. He tried to cry out, but found he had no voice. He tried to move, but discovered he was now thoroughly paralyzed – he couldn't even breathe. And yet he no longer felt the need to breathe. Although he was terrified and confused about whatever was happening, he was also now cognizant of the fact that he had no physical need to inhale and exhale any longer. In fact, he seemed to be completely lacking most of his physical sensations now. He couldn't exactly see, hear, feel, taste, or smell anything. Likewise, he had no real sense of temperature, pressure, or even body awareness. It was as though he were suspended weightless in a dark, utterly sound proof chamber. And though Jacob still experienced fear, it was now a far more cerebral than visceral fear: a sensation purely of the mind rather than the heart or gut.
“Where am I and what's going on?” he thought, somehow 'aloud.'
Khuṇ dị̂ klāy pĕn kl̂wy.
«You have become a banana.»
A mysterious, soprano voice was wordlessly “singing” inside Jacob's head.
“What?!” shrieked Jacob with surprise. He did so without moving lips, pushing air through vocal chords, or producing the slightest vibration of sound waves.
“Kl̂wy tānī.” Khuṇ pĕn p̄hl mị̂ s̄æn xr̀xy k̄hxng t̂n kl̂wy khuṇ yāw læa không khuṇ pĕn s̄ī h̄elụ̄xng - k̄heīyw khuṇ pĕn dĕk p̄hū̂h̄ỵing thī̀ rwy māk khuṇ pĕn neụ̄̂x nùm p̄hl mị̂ s̄æn xr̀xy khuṇ pĕn kl̂wy s̄nuk kạb tạw xeng!
«“กล้วยตานี .” You are the delicious berry of the banana tree. You are long and curved. You are yellow-green. You are a rich girl-child. You are a soft, fleshy, delicious fruit. You are a banana. Enjoy yourself!»
The words were alien and incomprehensible … at least at first. But a split second after “hearing” the sweet, lyrical chirping in his mind, somehow the tightly, folded up words unpacked themselves into language with understandable meaning and context.
“How am I understanding this?” asked Jacob wordlessly. “You're not speaking English – it's all some gibberish, but I mostly understand it. I mean: I get the words, but … how am I a banana? How is that even possible? I'm a living, sentient piece of fruit? This is insanity!”
Khuṇ mị̀ dị̂ phūd p̣hās̄ʹā xạngkvs̄ʹ khuṇ kảlạng phūd p̣hās̄ʹā k̄hxng kl̂wy khuṇ mị̀ dị̂yin s̄eīyng k̄hxng c̄hạn khwām khid k̄hxng c̄hạn s̄atĥxn xxk mā nı cı k̄hxng khuṇ lūk k̄hxng p̀ā khuṇ pĕn lūks̄āw k̄hxng c̄hạn khuṇ pĕn kl̂wy c̄hạn khụ̄x nāng thạn nī c̄hạn pĕn p̄hī kl̂wy c̄hạn pĕn p̄hīs̄eụ̄̂x kl̂wy c̄hạn pĕn kl̂wy ledī̂ k̄ĥā pĕn p̄hū̂ phithạks̄ʹ̒ h̄æ̀ng p̀ā khuṇ pĕn lūks̄āw k̄hxng c̄hạn
«You are not speaking English. You are speaking the language of the banana. You do not hear my voice. My thoughts echo in your mind. Child of the Forest, you are now my daughter. You are a banana. I am Nang Tani. I am the Banana Ghost. I am the Banana Nymph. I am Lady Banana, the Guardian of the Forest. And you have now become my daughter.»
“This is impossible,” protested Jacob.
Xỳā wāngcı h̄æwn thxngdæng. Rawạng k̄hxng donạth.
«The Toroid of Transformation is untrustworthy; beware it!»
“That stupid metal doughnut of Kaitlyn's did this to me? Please, Banana Lady – change me back!”
C̄hạn pĕn s̄up̣hāphs̄trī thī̀ t̀ảt̂xy c̄hạn mị̀chı̀ thephṭhidā c̄hạn s̄āmārt̄h nảthāng khuṇ dị̂ c̄hạn s̄āmārt̄h ch̀wy dị̂. C̄hạn mị̀ s̄āmārt̄h pelī̀yn khuṇ dị̂.
«I am a humble forest lady. I am not a goddess. I can lead you, I can help, but I cannot transform you.»
“Please!” begged Jacob. “I never thought I'd ever have to utter these words, but: I don't want to be a banana! Please, please, please make me human again.”
Lūks̄āw s̄ī k̄heīyw thī̀ mị̀ s̄uk k̄hxng kl̂wy c̄hạn xwyphr khuṇ læa c̄hạn h̄ı̂ khả næanả kæ̀ c̄hạn khuṇ mị̀chı̀ mnus̄ʹy̒ tæ̀ c̄hạn s̄āmārt̄h pelī̀yn khuṇ pĕn nāngf̂ā kl̂wy c̄hạn ca pelī̀yn khuṇ h̄ı̂ pĕn dĕk s̄āw kl̂wy thī̀ mī k̄hnād lĕk h̄rụ̄x mị̀? Khuṇ ca pĕn lūks̄āw cêā h̄ỵing n̂xy k̄hxng c̄hạn? Phūd dị̂ pord.
«Unripe, green daughter of the banana, I bless you and I offer you my guidance. You are not human. However, I can change you into a banana nymph such as myself. May I transform you into a small, beautiful banana girl child? Just give your permission. Will you become my tiny, princess-daughter?»
“I … I … I don't understand any of this,” sobbed Jacob in disbelief at the bizarre surreal nature of his situation.
Cạb mụ̄x c̄hạn h̄ỵing s̄āw kl̂ā h̄āỵ wị̂! Reā ca bin p̄h̀ān xākāṣ̄ c̄hạn ca h̄ı̂ khuṇ xyū̀ p̣hāynxk r̀āngkāy khuṇ phr̂xm h̄ịm? Lūks̄āw k̄hxng kl̂wy mị̀ t̂xng klạw c̄hạn pĕn kl̂wy ledī̂ læa c̄hạn k̆ pkp̂xng lūks̄āw k̄hxng c̄hạn khuṇ ca plxdp̣hạy nymph k̄hxng c̄hạn c̄hạn pĕn p̄hū̂ phithạks̄ʹ̒ k̄hxng cêā h̄ỵing txn nī̂ khuṇ pĕn cêā h̄ỵing kl̂wy læ̂w.
«Hold my hand, maiden. Be brave! We will fly through the air. I will you outside your body. Are you ready? Daughter of the banana, do not be afraid. I am Banana Lady, and I protect my girls. You will be safe, my nymph. I am the guardian of princesses. And you are now a banana-princess.»
Unsure what other choice he had, Jacob imagined he was somehow extended out a hand.
Miraculously, something touched that hand.
It was real, firm, warm, soft, and so incredibly tangible in the otherwise sensory-deprived world of darkened silence.
It was a slender, golden brown hand … and it held tightly to the imaginary hand in Jacob's mind … and it pulled him out of his body.
“What th–?!” sputtered Jacob.
He was now a ghostly cloud of amorphous, pale green energy – but he had a voice.
Jacob could also “perceive” the world around him again, finally. And he found he was still outside, floating above a small, firm, yellow-green banana sitting motionless in the grass right on the spot where Jacob had earlier been standing.
Emily was nowhere in sight (and neither was the Toroid of Transformation).
Floating in the air next to Jacob's glowing, green cloud body was was a beautiful woman with a long black hair, sparkling gold eyes, and a warm, inviting smile. Her skin was deeply tanned, and she wore nothing but bits of vivid, emerald green cloth wrapped loosely about her chest and waist. As Jacob peered closer, he saw the woman's “clothes” were actually the giant leaves of some plant, deftly woven together to create a sort of makeshift skirt and bikini top.
“I am Nang Tani, ghost-lady of the bananas,” she said solemnly. “Is this easier for you to comprehend, daughter?”
“You're speaking English now!” Jacob exclaimed. Impossibly, he also noticed with relief he no longer 'heard' the woman's voice twice: once in beautifully lyrical gibberish, and then once more sliced-and-diced by the Procrustean bed of translating guillemets he shouldn't really be able to even perceive the existence of.
“No, my nymph,” grinned Nang Tani. “I do not speak the tongue of the Angles. You and I still 'speak' to one another mentally: mind-to-mind. It is … 'telepathy' I believe you call it? But you are no longer an inanimate object. You are a spirit/soul, and this makes translation easier, o young girl.”
“Why do you keep calling me things like 'nymph' and 'daughter'?” asked Jacob. “I'm grateful you pulled me out of that banana, but I'm actually a dude. Uh … I'm a guy, that is. A boy.”
“You were a boy,” answered the guardian spirit. “But you trusted your fate to that unreliable metal ring from another world. It has made you anew into something else. Be thankful it transformed you into one of my children, o princess! I guard and guide all my daughters. I have no power to make you human again. But as the guardian spirit-lady of the banana forest, I will zealously protect and shepherd you, now that you are mine. Do you wish to remain a fruit, or do you wish to become a guardian nymph such as myself? You are not experienced enough to be a mother or queen yet. But I can make you a daughter-princess of the jungle. What is your wish?”
“My wish is to be human,” insisted Jacob. “Listen, I really appreciate what you've done for me. But I don't want to be some spooky cloud of ghostly, green smoke.”
“Patience, patience, dear daughter!” smiled Nang Tani. “Your 'cloud' form is your soul. And it must inhabit something. You may go back into the banana fruit on the ground there. Perhaps someone will eat you? If so, you become a part of them: absorbed, integrated, and assimilated into their consciousness and being. It is a pleasing fate most of my daughters eagerly look forward to. I'm sorry to say you are a parthenocarpic Musa acuminata fruit and sadly cannot produce seedlings of your own, even were I to plant you in the richest of warm, fertile, tropical soils. So that fate, unfortunately, cannot be yours. But I can elevate you into one of my own kind. I can take you under my wing and make you a forest nymph: a banana-girl spirit and member of the sorority of nang mai. You would be a young, immature princess – but a royal Nang Tani nonetheless, a sort of hyleoroi or ghost girl protecting the plant realm. It seems to me your only other option would be wait about, hoping some random happenstance occurs, offering you the good fortune of a some other opportunities – something that seems quite unlikely.”
“But I don't want to be either a banana or a banana-fairy ghost girl!” sobbed Jacob.