Charles and Elizabeth watched as the umbrella-toting child ran back into the sunlight and emptied two lumps of material at the base of the banana tree.
Then the little boy pulled out a small rag from his bosom and, standing on tiptoe, meticulously wiped each large leaf of the banana tree. He wasn't very skilled at wiping, but he did it with great earnestness.
As he wiped, he muttered to himself, and Charles's keen hearing allowed him to catch what the little boy was saying.
"You need to grow up quickly. Once you've grown up, I'll have lots of bananas, my very own bananas, and no one is allowed to take them away."
"I will bring manure to you every day; I'll save it just for you."
"Remember, I planted you, your bananas are mine, and your skin even has my name etched on it."
At that moment, Charles felt a warm presence by his ear, a magnetic and sensual voice reaching him.
"Adorable, isn't he? Children can be noisy at times but sometimes they're just endearing. Do you want one?"
