Devil Fruit

When I was a kid, like most kids, I was superstitious. Step on a crack, break your mother's back. Don't walk under ladders. But eventually I outgrew all of that. I've owned black cats. I've broken mirrors and chain letters and have lived to talk about it. And my mother's back, after many stepped upon cracks, is strong and healthy.

Then we discovered Devil's Fruit at Uwajimaya the other night and all my childhood superstitions came flooding to the surface. Never in my life have I seen anything so strange and, well, frightening! I mean, they're black and look like tiny horned demons.

Barnaby, excited as a leprechaun who'd finally discovered that pot of gold, was tossing them into a bag, giggling, "I've never seen anything like! They're so cool!" I, on the other hand, was tossing handfuls of garlic into the basket.

"What's all that for?" he asked.
"I dunno. To...well...ward off something," I stammered.
"Like what? Vampires?"
"One can't be too certain!" I said, grabbing the basket and heading to the checkout counter.

I have to say though, these little guys could come in handy at Costco on a busy Saturday afternoon. If I super glued one to the front of my cart I bet that would keep the zombies at bay. You know the zombies. Those shoppers who forget they are in a crowded public place, park their carts right smack in the middle of the aisle and wander around like they're the living dead. One look at my black horned hood ornament and they'd scatter to the side. Hmmm, there's a thought...

Anyway, we took our little devil fruits home (also called Ling Gok) and cracked them open. At first I thought my eyes would fall out or I'd grow extra fingers, but instead I found them surprisingly good, not unlike coconut and similar to a water chestnut. I still think I should leave some sort of offering out just to appease the spirits. Maybe a mandarin and a bottle of sake will do.