The Delicacy

Short Story Day 167 of 365

Robert and Robbie, father and son, sat next to each other while their hosts prepared a meal in their honor. It was the first time the host family ever had foreigners in their home, and the occasion called for a feast that only kings could boast about.

What that really meant was that the family would sacrifice a great deal on the guests’ behalf because their culture demanded it. The less wealthy might have to go into debt to do it.

With Rahmed, however, he didn’t have to sacrifice much because he was wealthy in the land of the poor. The two Mercedes in the driveway was one indication and the three servants running around taking care of Robert and Robbie was another.

One of the servants brought out a platter of meat adorned with spices, vegetables, and an array of fruits, and she set the platter down on the table. Robbie, 22-years-old, squinted at the offering, unsure of what he was seeing. His dad was all smiles as he was greatly honored by the food and hospitality.

“Robbie,” his father said in a hushed tone. “You see what I see?”

“Not yet, but you’re sure to tell me what I’m looking at soon enough.”

“When you see it, son, you won’t be able to unsee it. See the sliced up apple? Look directly to the right of that and tell me what you see.”

“I see the apples, but I don’t see what …”

“Mr. Robert and Mr. Robbie,” Rahmed said as he entered the room with his two small sons and a daughter.

The father and son stood.

Rahmed said, “Please be seated. In our culture, it is customary to sacrifice a goat in honor of our guests. And of course the head of the goat is considered a delicacy, something most in my country have never eaten because it’s so rare and expensive. You would do me a great honor in sharing this delicacy with me.”

Rahmed and his children sat around the table.

Robert put his hand over his heart and said, “Mr. Rahmed, thank you. You have honored us greatly and I’m at a loss for words. My son can attest that I am rarely at a loss for words. You’ll have to excuse us because we’ve never eaten this delicacy either. I do have one question, sir, how do you begin eating the head of a goat?”

Rahmed smiled and said, “In our culture we have a saying, ‘When you shoot an elephant, you must eat him one bite at a time.’”

Robbie looked at the platter in front of him. The head of a goat stared the foreigners in the face.

Robbie said, “And you would do me a great honor, Father, to take the first bite.”