His father, a man worthy of great admiration, anointed him Mowgli. The fabled handle wasn't far off. To date i've never seen him speak the name without a proud smile. Mowgli spent his days running through palms, splashing in gentle surf, playing with an unaccountable amount of friends and animals, all shaded under the veil of the two towering volcanoes that formed the small landmass. The boy had only left the mysterious island a handful of times, and even then, never far within the mainland.
The lad's life reminded me of a young Gerald Durrell (famed British Naturalist, Conservationist and Zoologist) growing up on Corfu.1 Mowgli's home was a paradise. From one end to the other stretched an ecological palace host to howler monkeys, spider monkeys, tarantulas, scorpions, snakes, bull sharks, bullet ants, caimans, crocs, enormous toads, salamanders, sloths, toucans, mot-mots, hawks, and mystic white tailed deer. A short ferry ride away i'd once heard jaguars, woken by their ferocious roars while camping, though as far as i know, they've not yet made it to the secluded fairyland.
On this particular day i was sitting behind the bar closing up my friend and employer's accounts when i saw him. Sandy haired, blue eyed, he walked past with an enormous knife, coil of rope, and a thick stick. "What do you have there Mowgli?" my words ensnared the young one as he dared to dart by.
The mixed boy had his father’s eyes, a curiosity and spectacle to the islanders. Those deep ponds searched me, measuring the depth of trust between us. "It's my missile."
"Ah, your missile," i nodded as if it should have been obvious to me. "And just where might you be going with that?
Despite our often great rapport, he remained cautious, unsure how much to devolve. With care Mowgli probed whether or not i'd seen that giant black hornet's nest sitting at the edge of the drive. Mere metres from my home in staff housing the monstrosity had been hard to miss. He further quizzed my knowledge of the local fauna, wondering if i knew how painful their stings were. That they were different, aggressive attackers compared to the other common wasps and bees.
Rather than share my limited knowledge i deferred to his expertise. Mowgli's love of wildlife blossomed over his initial reluctance to share and he climbed atop the bar to educate me further. Wide eyed he named the local pests, illustrated their tendencies and nuances before concluding how dangerous this nest could be for our guests.
When i inquired what his plan was to solve our problem, he pointed to his missile. Mowgli dropped from the counter and retrieved his tools. My eyebrows took flight as he explained how he intended to launch the stick and knock the burden to the ground. While he escaped he'd use the rope to retrieve the harpoon in case he needed a few more attempts.
i kept my lips tight and continued nodding. No part of me wanted to scold the boy, tell him how unlikely success was, and what a bad decision he was making. It was unnecessary to explain that even if he hit his target the drag from the rope would hinder his already too small stick to the point where at best he'd crack the nest, and in all likelihood only give it a mere knock. Instead, i came around the bar and dropped to my haunches so i could look him dead in the eye.
"Now, Mowgli, i want to teach you a little life lesson here." i held up his missile and admired it. After a few mental calculations i continued. "This is a kind idea, but also, kinda dangerous. The risk of you getting hurt outweighs the possibility of others getting harmed. The lesson is, if you've got a stupid idea, and you're going to do it anyway, make sure you bring a friend."
He stared at me as the words settled, processing what i said. With a shrug, i continued, "so here's the new plan- i'm coming with you."
The boy delivered his surprise wrapped in a beaming smile. Together we went to investigate our futile, and to some degree moronic mission. The afternoon Sun baked the grainy driveway, and the sand scorched our feet. We could hear the diabolical buzzing before we rounded the corner. From a safe distance we scouted as we sizzled.
Make no mistake the tree was far enough in the property that it was unrealistic to cause any issue aside from annoying me at home. But he was a boy. Bored, trying to be noble, and looking to make his father proud. So i hammed up my reactions, ducked down and peeked from behind a small stone fence. My voice dropped to a whisper as if the villainous insects might overhear our plotting. With my forefinger i drew a quick map and asked what our best course of action was.
Like a general, Mowgli sketched out his plan. How he would sneak forth, zag his steps, launch the missile, run if necessary, and drag the stick back. It wasn't a great plan, verging on terrible. i asked i could help by carrying the rope, and that no matter the outcome we sprint to the bar for shelter after his throws. It was obvious whether or not i tagged long, or even managed to convince him how foolish this was, Mowgli would find a way to try. Better to be beside him. At least together i could shield his little body with mine should we find ourselves chased down by furious hornets. By holding the rope i could ensure it wouldn't get snagged on a stone, and delay his escape. Keeping pace behind him during our get away would be easy, and if things got close i'd scoop him to my arms and run us to safety in the water.
Was it irresponsible?
Absolutely.
Is this how boys learn?
Sadly, yes.
Before we set to action, i had to stop him again. With a sigh i told him that we may have already broken the rule we were trying to learn. His brow furrowed and i explained. "Well, as i said, when you're doing something stupid, always bring your friends. And i think our friend Gerald would be extremely disappointed if he wasn't included in this."
"You think?"
"Mowgli we're about to throw a big stick at a giant angry hornet's nest. Australians live for this stuff."
Having grown up in the hotel, and knowing almost as much about various cultures as he did local fauna, Mowgli nodded, dusted the sand off his hands, and sought after Gerald. We knocked at the door of the tall, lanky, Aussie, waking him despite the late hour. Fearless when it came to snakes, scorpions, and yet irrationally terrified of the spiders, Mowgli hadn't even finished explaining his plan before Gerald threw on a shirt and raced out the door.
He held the handcrafted "missile," as we walked, looked at the boy then back to me with concern, and i explained the situation a little further. How we needed him there because i was trying to teach Mowgli that when you're going to do something stupid, always bring your buddies. "Oh absolutely, i couldn't agree more!" Gerald's enthusiasm was loud, and reemphasized the lesson back to the lad.
We stopped at the bar for some reserves, a nice cold beer for the Aussie, then faced the scalding sands back to the tree. As we walked i divulged my own plot with to Gerald regarding taking care of the rope and shielding the boy. Between the two of us, there should be no harm and only laughs.
Like special op soldiers, or at least fools impersonating them, we slunk up under the nest. Mowgli flashed us a thumbs up, raised his little arm, and hurled his stick skywards.
We heard a slight knock as the stick met the branch. He'd missed, but we ran all the same. Jeering, and howling as we made it to the sanctuary of the bar, ducking behind the chairs and tables unscathed. i handed the missile back to the boy and with our hearts still pounding, we returned.
Back at the tree the buggers weren't mad, nor bothered. They guarded about, oblivious and unaffected. So we tried again. And repeated the game over and over, at most only ever tapping the hornet's hotbed.
Our mission came to its inevitable resolve when Mowgli decided that, perhaps, our missile wasn't strong enough to destroy the nest. Gerald and i took the opportunity to assure him that given the effort we made to get rid of the bugs, and how safe we remained, that it was probable our guests would also be ok should they get too close, and somehow not hear the aggressive buzzing. With that in mind, i concluded the whole endeavour was a success.
Gerald toasted the sentiment, and Mowgli accepted it. Not all of the lessons learned were worthy of applause. Curiosity is rarely stamped out by rules and scolding. The boy's honesty was rewarded with camaraderie, and community. Better to learn there's more friends and watchful eyes in your life than you might think. Better to move through danger, informed, and fearless.
Thanks for reading!
-Mr. Write
His charming book My Family and other Animals is well worth a read.