(back then)
In the clinic. “Drink it,” the man in white says. I shrug and drink. The juice tastes sticky sweet. “What's it for?” I ask.
Instead of answering, he hands me the rolled up bills. Easy money. All they need is another blood sample in a week.
(24 hours later)
Out for a snack. I am just chucking my empty cup in the bin and heading for the door when this incredibly cute guy goes “Hey monkey” and I look around to see who he is talking to. It takes me another three seconds to realize he means me.
Now, I normally never get chatted up these days because a) I'm often with my bf when I venture out and b) I think I have this contented kind of vibe about me that says 'I'm happily attached thanks very much'. So not much on the old flirtation front, and thus a bit out of practice. Yet, I am still able to judge that the look this guy gives me is nowhere near light hearted eye contact. It is pure puzzlement. I decide to smile back nevertheless. He points towards my rear end.
Turning around, I get a glimpse of a long bushy tail. The whole place falls silent. Then someone starts to scream. Panicked, I dash out. The paparazzis will be here soon, that much is sure. I need to escape. And hailing a cab is no option. I run, I jump. I wriggle my tail. Then I go for the next facade. Up and up I climb, until I reach an open window. I peek in, the room is empty, so there I am, saved for the moment.
(in the kitchen)
The panic made me hungry. I open the fridge, hoping to find something to eat. Not so. It is a plastic desert with some cheese and a bottle of tomato ketchup on the lower shelf. I grab the last of the surviving oranges from the fruit bowl.
Back to the living room, into the leather armchair, which was a water buffalo when it was still alive. At least that is what I imagine, while I zap through channels. There is the news, but I haven't made the headlines yet. Maybe I never will. In a city like that, it probably takes more than this to get the helicopters in the air.
(an hour later)
TV, the eternal opium for the masses. Reruns of NYPD Blue. The police cars dashing through the roads like dragon flies, chasing bad guys around the block, bargaining with kidnappers. A million for a life, a bullet for the wrong move. The black box draws me inside, I am the hereon, I am the gold chained gangster.
The street is flashing in blue and red colour. If I opened the window now, they would shoot me live. I demand a wagonload of milk shakes and freedom for all monkeys caged in zoos. It's too much and not enough. There must be a better deal, there always is. I zap through channels for inspiration.
(on the road again)
We race down a highway. "You will really need to know how to use equations when you grow up," they said. Wrong they were. All it takes is a fast car. And a driver.
On and on we go. The road leads towards the jungle. That is what they promised. It's a long ride, and I get tired of holding the driver at gunpoint. So I skip the gun, and grab one of the shakes.
That's when the driver turns to me and says "You're pretty trusting going into the middle of nowhere with someone you barely know, aren't you?" He eyes me up, bushy tail and all. I feel a little scared, but I just make a joke of it. “Don't you dare touch me, or I call my brother,” I tell him.
(showdown)
The driver doesn't want to believe. He stops the car and starts to get into my hair. “King Kong,” I scream. The driver laughs and laughs. “Just kidding,” I say, to keep him distracted and amused. But I can hear his steps already, coming closer.
The shadow of my brother falls upon us. It stops the driver's laughter flat. Alas, it's too late. And there is no option of bargaining. Not with K.K. He lifts him up in the sky, to throw him as far as he can. Like in the movies, yet better, as it happens in full panorama size.
Humming a melody from an old black and white movie, my brother waits until the vultures are silent again. Then he takes me in his hairy hands and carries me home.
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this is one of my early short stories. i revisited it this winter, and now couldn't resist to clean it up a bit, for April 1st.
(the story was originally published in the literary journal '10.000 Monkeys', in 2004.)
i just tried to dig up "10.000 Monkeys", the magazine is offline, but the web archive still has some pages up: http://bit.ly/aQKhAc
(takes a bit to load)
great form, doro, drew me right in, and a wonderful way of "going bananas" (i like the old title). excellent last paragraph, too.
I, too, like the original title "Going Bananas." What I really love here is just the right mix of the surreal with the ordinary and recognizable.
Finn, Jane ~ thanks for your feedback, and also for your note on the old title "Going Bananas". i now went ahead, and switched the story back to it, from "Drink, Climb, Eat, Scream".
Good piece, Dorothee. Great form.
Thanks, Sam!
form was the main element i worked on - i wished the original story was still up, it's basically the same story, but without subtitles, and instead with "Next Scene." as starting sentence for the different scenes ;)
Milkshakes and freedom for all caged monkeys, KK for a brother-- Dorothee you have pushed the envelope way over the edge with this
fab and funny story, but also there's a sweetness and naive quality attached
Love stories about go-rillas. See this one in Pindeldyboz:
http://www.pindeldyboz.com/jssequel.htm
Oh Dorothee, this is fabulous! I love the concept of what's going on here and how you move the story through its points. Nice.
Susan + Susan: that's such beautiful feedback. and here's a confession: it was the excitement that your challenges brought (the story challenge with the lowing cows, and the Valentine's challenge) that i now join almost each new challenge. such fun!
and Jack: thanks for that link. i think i even remember the story. :)
and now i dug up a copy of the original published page, and put it online. i was monkey #116 back then: http://www.blueprint21.de/download/m10kbananas.htm
kafka meets bonzo
love it, thanks
Gary, and thanks to you for that great 3-word-characterisation
i now tagged the story accordingly ;)
This is very cool. And your language. A simple sentence like "The shadow of my brother falls upon us" in the otherwise byzantine goings-on just rivets me.
Really cool stuff here, and quite a bit unpredictable. I like how this character watches for herself on the news, and then how this monkey life becomes almost normal.
thanks for the cool feedback! i am still happy that the April Fool's challenge made me remember this story, and brought that monkey back to life. hadn't expected it to climb so high - what a good monkey surprise.
great story doro! i like your silly side very much!
Dorothee - "The Life and Times of K.K.'s Younger Sister" - when does she meet Mothra's Neice? this was a fun journey all the way, and, no kidding, the joke's on you, you made us laugh.
Dorothee, this is great! I love the form, the progression of the story, just the whole premise of it. Your writing pulled me in and guided me along to a nice ending.
Michael, Walter, Christian ~ glad you enjoyed this monkey ride/read!
maybe i should go and give a new silly story a try.
Great fun. Thanks for sharing this.
This is a fun read, Dorothee. Thoroughly enjoyed this.
This story makes so much sense in an absurd way. I think it’s fantastic.
Love this description: "It is a plastic desert with some cheese and a bottle of tomato ketchup on the lower shelf." (I can relate on grocery shopping day!)
Also love how unique this is, and even once I realized that, you still managed to keep me on my toes with unexpected lines that made me laugh like: "I demand a wagonload of milk shakes and freedom for all monkeys caged in zoos. It's too much and not enough."
Funny. Really liked it.