As the cool morning mist lifted, Na'am kicked the empty soda can a tad bit hard and it flew into the air landing in cheek-high grass by the roadside. He ambled towards the grass to look for the soda can. As he was searching for his can among the grass, he noticed beyond it was a plantation of trees and people quietly yet joyfully picking its fruit. He stared blankly at them at first, yet slowly a boyish smile of amusement crept on his lips. Suddenly, an elder man called out from among the fruit pickers. His boyish smile turned into gaping mouth as it dawned on him that the elder man was calling out to him, staring at him intensely. The elder gentleman waved his hand and signaled to Na'am that he come over. He walked directly across the tall grass forgetting about the empty soda can.
As he emerged from the grass, Na'am noticed that the workers were glancing at him with a gentle smile on their faces. He felt at ease with this. He continued to walk toward the elder man, and stopped one pace away from the him. The elder looked at him with the same boyish smile he had a while ago, and Na'am smiled back. The elder motioned to Na'am if he wanted to do what the others were doing, that is, fruit picking. Without a word but with a smile of joy, Na'am walked away from the elder and followed the other workers around, doing what they were doing.
After a while, he wondered the name of the fruit he was picking. It was about the size of his fist, it was round, deep dark purple with dashes of brown in color, a green inverted flower-like stem on one end, and a brown little star on the other end. Some had five-pointed stars while others had six. He pondered on this. A young lady came near Na'am, amused at his face written with curiosity. She surmised that he had yet to know or eat of this kind of fruit and was wondering about the little stars. She whispered the name of the fruit: "Mangosteen", at that, Na'am snapped out of his fixation. He wondered how long the lady had been there. But without a word, the young woman calmly took the fruit that he was holding and pointed to the five-pointed little star, tore the green stem from the other end of the fruit, and squeezed the fruit open with both hands. The fruit revealed five shiny white half-moon shaped meat. Na'am was smiling at this surprise. She gave the fruit back to him and gestured that he taste it. He picked the five half-moons one by one, and with each bite his eyes widened with delight. The young lady then handed him another one but this time with six-pointed star. He took off the stem, gave the fruit a good squeeze, its body tore open to reveal six shiny half-moons. His smile now was from ear to ear. He ate the six half-moon meat and was thoroughly satisfied. As he was savoring the taste, the young lady tapped him on the shoulder and gave a sign that they should get back to work picking the fruits. With a smile and a memory of flavor on his tongue, Na'am got back to fruit picking accompanying the others.
The sun had almost risen to its height when they finished picking. The others were gathering full baskets, carrying them, placing them near the elder who was standing near a mangosteen tree. Na'am was the last to place his full basket of fruit at the gathering. Wiping sweat off his face, he saw the young woman who had spoken to him approaching the elder whispering something, and they both looked at him; the elder nodded. The elder gestured to Na'am to come near, which he did without reservation. The elder, with a smile, handed him an envelope containing papers of color. The young woman beside him then gave Na'am a brown paper bag filled with mangosteen; the bag was just large enough to carry with one arm. He gave a low bow to the elder, not really knowing why he bowed, and walked back to the dirt road across the tall grass.
Standing on the dirt road, Na'am looked into the envelope with small colored sheets of paper. Not knowing what to do with them, he stuffs it inside his right pocket. With his now free right hand, he started to get one fruit from the brown bag and started to eat it. Tearing the stem with his teeth, squeezing the fruit with only one hand, then greedily eating the half-moons. Half-way down his supply of fruit, Na'am encountered a man on the road pushing a box cart. Colorfully written on it was the word ice cream. Na'am raised a curious eyebrow at these words. The man stopped and asked him if he would like some ice cream. Na'am nodded. The ice cream man asked what flavor he would like, at the same time opening the lid at the top of his box cart. Na'am looked inside the cart and felt a cool mist rising from the opening, and three containers. One container had brown stuff in it, the other white, and the last one was empty. With a toothless smile, the man asks "What'll it be, son?" Na'am thinks that he's been wearing and walking on brown the whole day, so he points at the white stuff. The ice cream man gets a cone, scoops a heavy portion onto it, extends his hand to Na'am, and says "here's your ice cream." Na'am slowly takes the ice cream cone from the man, and gives a confused smile. "Go ahead, lick it," the man says. So, Na'am brings the ice cream near his mouth, and licks. He is delighted by the taste. Sweet, creamy, and refreshingly cool after walking under the hot sun. The ice cream man asks if he has money to pay for it, at the same time holding and showing a colored piece of paper to Na'am. Na'am eyes the colored paper and nods vigorously. Since his hands are full, he puckers his lips using it to point to the envelope sticking out of his right pocket. The ice cream man takes the envelope, takes a piece of colored paper from it, and gently puts it back in the right pocket.
Twice today Na'am has been delighted. First, the mangosteen, then, the ice cream. As he continues his walk on the dirt road, with some dried ice cream marks on his nose, dried mangosteen juice on the side of his lips; and a now slightly smudged white shirt, cargo pants, brown suede shoes with neon yellow socks; he ponders on his two delights. A fruit with stars and half-moons embraced by a deep dark: like the night sky; and a white stuff called ice cream which tastes sweet, caressingly cool, creamy in texture: like the night mist.
(This story is for my friend, Lavender, who gave the title before the story came to be.)
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