Monkey Business
By Bess Goden
‘Would you shut up, Armando?”, I said, he kept jabbering, “I said shut the fuck up!” He did, thank God. “Did you hear that?” The damp leaves rustled off to the left. My voice dropped to a whisper, “Seriously, did you hear that?”
Armando shook his head. His expression was amused, “It is just a friendly tucan, Senora. Please to be relaxed, we are safe on the trail.” The rustle came again. “Hello, pretty tucan! Come and show your feathers to us!”
This time I heard louder rustling combined with a very menacing branch snapping. We both stood up. “You idiot,” I whispered, “Why don’t you just yell, ‘Here’s dinner!’”
We hastily shoved our remaining food back in our packs. I double checked that the idol was still safe. It was. For a second, I could just see the glint of it’s ruby eyes as I closed the pack. I swallowed my glee, time enough for celebration later. I thought I heard a soft drumbeat somewhere behind me, but it was probably just my heart pounding. That stupid guide shouting in the middle of the rainforest, are you kidding me? Snap! Another branch, this one was much closer. Then a low pitched growl. Fuck. Packs shouldered, we were running. We were only half a day away from the treeline, but the growth was thick around us. Steam rose from our feet as we squelched moisture from the mud. We could still hear rustling but it seemed to have fallen back a little. I quickened my step anyway, no sense in tempting fate. I was almost home free.
‘Ugh,’ I hear. Armando, that bastard! What now? “Senora, please! I have twisted my ankle!”
“Shut up, Armando!” I said as loud as I dared, panicking now. I could definitely hear the rustling getting closer. He was huddled around a tree root. “Why don’t you look where you’re going?! Fuck!” I whispered. He was holding his left ankle and rocking in pain. “Get up!” I yanked him to his feet by his pits. “We gotta go!” Snap! Snap! The rustling was definitely catching up now. Half dragging Armando, I wrenched us through the thick underbrush. The growl hadn’t stopped and it was getting closer. I could almost feel it creeping up behind us. Snap! Our frantic shuffle hadn’t done us any favors, we’d only made it across the brush to a small clearing. On the left of it was a mudpit. Perfect! “I can’t carry you, Armando. We’re not gonna make it. You gotta hop in that mudpit and hide until I can come back for help.”
“No, senora! Don’t leave me, please!” His face looked petrified. Couldn’t blame him, but it wasn’t just my life. I had the golden monkey in my grasp at last! All the fame and accolades I could possibly dream of waited for me beyond that fucking treeline and some taco jockey wasn’t gonna ruin it, not after everything I’ve been through.
“Come on, it’ll be fine. The mud will hide your scent. Just be quiet and don’t move until I come back with help.” I said, dragging him toward the mudpit.
“How do I know you’re coming back?” said Armando, whimpering now.
“I’ll be back, I promise. Just get in!” I pushed him in the pit, it was just deep enough to cover his body.
Snap! It was right at the edge of the clearing. Holy shit, I’m too late. I glance behind me, still couldn’t see the fucker. Roooarr! My feet ran. I could barely see anything, I was so scared. My heart was pounding. Beat. Buh Beat. It was pounding so hard it drowned out everything else. Beat. Buh Beat. I couldn’t hear the branches snapping, or my feet squelching, or the roar getting closer and closer. I just heard the Beat. Buh Beat. It sounded like drums in chorus.
My whole body synched to the rhythm. Beat. Buh Beat. Drums around a campfire. Images filled my mind like smoke in a vacuum. Drummers in masks. Beating their hands on boarskin tom toms. Beat Buh Beat. I felt my foot catch. I was floating in midair. Beat. Buh Beat. Slam! My whole body smacked the ground. The drums grew louder. Beat. Buh Beat. I flipped over. I saw red glinting eyes peering from the bush behind me. Beat Buh Beat. They break through. Roar! It rushed toward me, a boar as big as a rhino, tusks glinting in the sparse sunlight. Beat Buh Beat. My mind swam. I saw the drummers. A chieftain covered in tucan feathers broke through the circle and stood before me, his arms raised. I blinked hard. Armando? I saw a muddy figure standing between me and the boar, arms outstretched. All I could see were his eyes, glinting red in that one beam of sunlight. They pierced through me. The drums crescendoed. I blinked again. The feathered chieftain walked toward me. Squelching? I blinked a third time. A muddied hand reached into my pack which lay strewn on the ground behind me. I couldn’t see what he was digging for. I blinked again. The boar was so close that I could feel his breath on my cheek. His growl rumbled in my chest. The golden monkey emerged. The muddied, no -- the chieftain’s hand laden with gold rings brought the monkey’s ruby eyes directly in front of mine. I peered in. I couldn’t look away. The drumbeats deafened me. I was diving, swimming in a sea of reds. I heard singing then, in time with the drums. Primal, warlike. It filled my being. I disappeared.
The rhythm still haunts me. Now when I hunt, I sing it. When I eat, I sing it. When I lick my hairy wounds, I sing it. My new hooves beat the rhythm in the muddy earth. Beat Buh Beat. Armando sings it when he pats my fur. It is torcherous, it drives me, it won’t let me sleep. I see in red now. I answer the call of the monkey. She lives here. I will protect her.
