One Gordon Hu

It was late this afternoon and Bro. Juniper found me out near the west wall, I was just finishing with a bit of stirring of the sand of my tiny ‘victory’ garden, and he seemed a bit breathless, but soon managed to inform me of a guest that had just arrived, he described Gordon Hu as a thirty-something rambler that seemed to have found himself in a clime not much to his liking, and to escape the noontime desert heat he spotted the monastery, and that is where Bro. Juniper found him, large empty plastic water bottle in hand, yet with an ample grin, at the front gate. Of course we have visitors from time to time, usually not sightseers, for we are a bit out of the way of any normally traveled tourist route, but then again, this is California and one cannot predict who one will find, even in the most inhospitable stretch of the vast Mojave. So, I asked, is this fellow merely seeking refuge for the night, or perhaps, is he in want of need? “I think need,” Bro. Juniper replied, “for he did seem quite excited when he viewed a robed brother with sandwich in hand, and after downing several glasses of water, he began peppering me with questions about the viability of a monastery in such a hostile clime, but before I had a chance to reply, Bro. Sedwick steered our guest to the dining table, and so, that is our current situation.”

Thus was my introduction to sight unseen Gordon Hu. And sight seen? After returning my gardening implements to the shed, I joined the others at the dining table, but to my surprise and dismay, Gordon Hu was out like a lamp, a half-eaten tuna sandwich before him, he, head slumped atop his sprawled arms atop the table, fast asleep.