No One climbs a cliff to take a baby eagle for a pet. No One rides a horse across Africa and is arrested for impersonating a saint. No One sneaks tiny monkeys past airport security, safely hidden in his overcoat, until they get out in the men’s room.
No One and his brother are on hands and knees, climbing stalls, chasing little monkeys. His brother says, I see how it is with you now that I have chased monkeys on my hands and knees in the airport men’s room.
Verily, I could have told him. And if you drive across the desert with No One, he won’t let you drive. You might end up chasing the car, as it rolls on its own toward a crater that has become a dry lakebed. You might end up out of gas next to a wooden, hand-lettered sign:
No One sets his car on fire. Eating dinner out with friends, he shows off his skill at eating small sections off the rim of his wine glass.
It was then we realized that one day No One would tire of this world. But No One had already disappeared. It was after I said, I’ll call you tomorrow. Tomorrow came many years later. But by then he had changed his name to the less formal Nobody.