They waded
out till the water was up to Sybil’s waist. Then the young man picked her
up and laid her down on her stomach on the float.
“Don’t you ever wear a bathing cap or anything?” he asked.
“Don’t let go,” Sybil ordered. “You hold me, now.”
“Miss Carpenter. Please. I know my business,” the young man said. ”You just keep your eyes open for any
bananafish. This is a perfect day for bananafish.”
“I don’t see any,” Sybil said.
“That’s understandable. Their habits are very peculiar.” He kept pushing the float. The water was not
quite up to his chest. “They lead a very tragic life,” he said. “You know what
they do, Sybil?”
She shook her head.
“Well, they swim into a hole where there’s a lot of bananas. They’re very ordinary-looking fish when they
swim in. But once they get in, they behave like pigs. Why, I’ve known some
bananafish to swim into a banana hole
and eat as many as seventy-eight bananas.” He edged the float and its passenger a foot closer to the
horizon. “Naturally, after that they’re
so fat they can’t get out of the hole again. Can’t fit through the door.”
“Not too far out,” Sybil said. “What happens to them?”
“What happens to who?”
“The bananafish.”
“Oh, you mean after they eat so many bananas they can’t get out of the banana hole?”
“Yes,” said Sybil.
“Well, I hate to tell you, Sybil. They die.”
—JDS, 1948
One day, a student of
Shunryu Suzuki-Roshi
confronted him at Sokoji,
in his office, and said,
“if you believe in freedom
why do you keep your bird
locked up in a cage?”
Suzuki Roshi went over
and opened the door of the cage
and the bird flew out of the cage
and out of the window.
It is said that then
Shunryu Suzuki turned
to the student
and said
“That bird is free
– you owe me a bird.”
Let’s get personal: 8t8@tilos.hu