Phoebe and Kyle buy coconuts from the men in half-pants with the machetes and their lop-eared donkeys who walk on the Praia Itapoán all day. One man tells her that his donkey’s name is Zabumbinha, little drum. She wonders how the tiny donkey can carry so much weight. "He looks like an ant carrying a one-ton boulder," She says to no one in par-ticular. She pets the donkey wishing he were hers. Phoebe and her brother try not to act surprised as the men machete-chop the green coco-nuts open. Chop! Chop! Scritch! Rip! The swollen drink cups are made especially for them. The hole in the coconut is like the hole inside Phoebe. The sweetness of the milk empties onto her tongue, quenching her thirst, but not her internal pain.
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