Elephant Scabs

If you’re fortunate enough to visit Suerk during mealtime, you’ll find that you will be the one he chooses to have feed him. I was taken aback. I have been through a lot and I have seen a lot, but somehow the act of feeding my teacher gave me a strange chill. That chill vanished quickly, though, and the rhythm of the feeding became comforting in a way. “Meat, please. Juice, please. Peas, please. Juice, please.” Eventually, you learn the order of things and can anticipate him before he needs to make the request. And the rhythm is punctuated with humor and laughs. I never did share the food with him, and no one would want to given the contorted facial expressions he displays upon tasting most of what he eats. One afternoon when I lifted the cover off the platter, Suerk took a look at the veal and conjured the voice of Doc Prevost. “Oh, Jesus! Elephant scabs again!” But he ate the scabs and most everything else served him. And that’s how that went.