Iago the squirrel was evil. My name for him is fitting, for as the villain character Iago from Shakespeare’s play “Othello” out-maneuvered everyone using sinister methods, so did Iago the squirrel display skills as a cunning, master manipulator.
I loathe Iago and this is why.
Cantaloupe is mother’s milk to me. Not the mass-produced ones sold to under-educated shoppers who think a few thumps of the puke-green skin will assure a perfect melon. I mean cantaloupe — planted from heirloom quality seeds handed, as if loose diamonds, nurtured and grown like little golden giants of the earth soaking up the steamy rays of summer.
That is what I planted last summer. Dirt and sweat melted together until they flowed as one fluid from my body into the soil. I toiled for weeks caressing and watering so each cantaloupe was free to reach its potential, its own Declaration of Luscious Independence. Slowly they grew from petite, green buds into large, vibrant melons.
Then — Iago came. I saw him for the first time when he scurried across the power line, stopping to sniff the air, before fleeing into a tree. But I paid no attention to him. Fool.
At first, small nicks showed on the melons revealing its golden flesh. The
…show more content…
Not one hair of his shaggy tail fell upon the taunt springs holding the metal bars in place ready to strike. Each day, another melon lay ravished with small gaping wounds exposing its ripped flesh bleeding nectar. I felt like a helpless commander on a battlefield watching a superior enemy slaughter my troops. The only way to end the battle was to retreat by harvesting the remaining melons, depriving them of ripening on the vine, never reaching their potential for sweetness. Although, it would deprive Iago of his last taste of victory, I refused to give him the satisfaction of chasing me from my own backyard garden in