Arr, I'm actually scrapping this story, because I need to rework it to fit it in my larger universe of stories… but I didn't have time to finish the short story I wanted, so posting this up for the month.
Without further ado... Horizontal 8's Chapter 2:
! PhilosophicalMonkeys on Practical Consumerism__Beforedaybreak there were none… And as it broke there was one
Frommoon to sun, it goes on and on
The winter battle was won...
Thesummer children were born
And so the story goes on and on
! “Really?This is what you guys been doing?” I asked my friends, me and Cecewalking up to the table. The group of them, always the eight, sat atthe food court in the mall.
Crowdsof people milled around us, trotting like zombies off to buy more andmore. I really, really hated malls. Not only because of how much Ihate crowds. I also hate consumerism.
Platesand bags decorated the table in front of my friends. Each bag from adifferent store. Each plate from a different food place. Haphazardlyphones, ipods, and tablets accentuated perfectly.
Cecewore a beautiful sundress, the perfect summer wear for any woman.Sammy had on an Adventure Time shirt, with punkishly ripped jeans.Ren had slapped on a simple gray t-shirt with basketball shorts.Jazzi was sidled into a pair of purple overalls with a Gir hat, Ireserved commentary. Zeno a striped polo, faded jeans, and timberlandboots; he deliberately liked to looked poor. Talib was dressed in ablue crew neck, black cargo shorts, and for some reason a single nikeglove. Tara had recently become a stylist this year, and her customerbase had grown much farther than I'd expected. Tara had directlydressed Talib, she always said he dressed Drakeishly.
Meanwhile,the queen of style herself had went above and beyond the cause ofsimple mall job. She had slid her petite frame into William Rast mintgreen skinny jeans. Donned above that, bearing a bit of her midriffwas a sheer, vintage white Fred Segall tie-up shirt. Closing it offwere multi-hued color blocked wedges. She, of course, also had a fewname brand accessories that I don't feel like recollecting, norasking her about right now.
“Whatdo you mean, Kelzie?” Sammy asked. Her eyes were so red.
“Kelershates people shopping. Cause, you know, he's weird.” Said Jazzi ofall people. I hated that stupid habit of adding er to things. I gaveher a blank face.
“Andalso a hypocrite.” Tara, carrying at least nine bags, each from adifferent store, looked me up and down. Beat-up converse shoes, khakicargo shorts, gray tanktop, flash emblem tattoo. I didn't seeanything wrong. Unless she meant the three necklaces, and fivebracelets, but there was nothing wrong with accessorizing right?
“Whatever.”I yawned, motioning Cece to sit at the table, and sitting in-betweenTara and Talib. It was June 21st,the first day of summer. Our parking lot adventure had been just thenight before, and the gang had decided to hit the mall. No doubt torelease all the intelligence I'd inject into their minds yesterday.As usual, I'd overslept. Cece was the only one who waited on me. She,at least, was a real nigga. Smelling the aroma coming from most ofthem, minus Tara at the least, I could tell they'd been smoking. Goodstuff too. And without me. Not real niggas.
Thatexplained their discussions. They'd jumped from music, to themesongs, to cartoons, and somehow to cereal. I stopped caring aroundthe time Talib made a legit argument comparing frosted flakes tococaine. Those things were addictive. I raised my eyebrow as Taraexcused herself to go get yogurt. She was such a foodie, couldn't goanywhere without getting a little snack.
Shestill had a nice body though. Such a nice body. Damn, I loved her.Shit, I still love her. I'll always love her. I can't help lovingher. I hated the strangers. All drones. Slaves. Zombies. Slow motionpurchasers of poison and nonsense. I fingered the half smoked blackin my pocket. Tara made it.
Herand the yogurt vendors conversation seemed… too animated. The girlbehind her in line looked exactly like Posh spice. I wondered if I'dhave to get with her friends. Faintly, in my hearing, I could hear amonkey making noises. Ooo-Ooo-Ahhh-Ahhh. I almost tossed it up tobeing high before I remembered I didn't smoke. Meh, probably stuck inmy system.
Taracame back to the table, with no frozen yogurt. She looked quite sad.
“Whatwas that about?” I asked, not meaning to cut everyone off, but forsome reason they all went quiet. I had the same feeling as theparking lot yesterday. I went on fog lookout.
“Well…first he told me I couldn't buy a yogurt. Then he tried to sell me tohis manager, I think. It was... odd.” Tara chewed on her lips,something she often did when concentrating. Audrey Hepburn was one ofher idols. Damn, she was sexy.
“Weirdestof all. Kel, he told me you should write the monkey story.”
“Themonkey story?” I asked, confused. Puzzle placed. Sky.
“Isthat some kind of inside joke?” Sammy. She knew most of me andTara's inside jokes at this point. She liked to ask a lot ofquestions about my personal life. Sam had a huge crush on me. Ipretended obliviousness. Although me and T did have many insidejokes, such as the elephant camouflage thing, this wasn't one ofthem. I was as confused as her.
“I'mas confused as you.” Tara said, making me mutter psychic under mybreath.
“Maybeit was symbolic?” Zeno trailed off. His dark-skin contrastedterribly with that polo. He was eating a subway sandwich with onehand, twirling around a dread with the other. Thinking pose.
“Idon't think so…” Talib sounded astonished.
“Iwas just offering a hypothesis.” Zeno shrugged.
“No,look…” Talib pointed to the escalator. All our eyes followed. Allour jaws dropped. All our minds blew. Nothing was ever the same.
“I…I think I'm high as fuck.” Ren said. Mentally, we all agreed.
Now,as I begin to write this, I realize, you may find a lot of thingsfrom this point on crazy, odd, and downright stupid and unbelievable.Don't worry. I'm just a weird guy, that's why I didn't. I always knewsomething like this would happen to me. Something special. Somethingdifferent. Hell, I'm the guy who claimed he was born on Saturn fromkindergarten on up. Still say it now, although I have a betterbacking. Just, think outside the box.
“Thatcan't be real.” Tara, the only forever sober one, proved to us thatwe weren't just hallucinating from last nights after-shocks.
Therewas a short gray monkey riding down the escalator.
Hehad a smug look on his face, eying the people around as if they weretwenty thousand leagues below him, despite the height difference. Hewas carrying a brown branch as a walking stick. To me, he looked likea combination of the evil chimp from family guy and that old baboonfrom the lion king. The fact that nobody seemed to notice him wasodd. The oddest part? He was monkey walking, well monkey escalatingdownwards, right to us.
“So,I'm totally not the only one who sees that right?” Talib asked forclarity.
“No.”Sammy responded blankly. I'd never heard her sound genuinely afraidbefore. No matter how much she tried to compare her suburban home tothe slums of Ghana.
“Renners,am I awake?” Jazzi asked childlishly.
“Iam.” I turned around to say barely, but for once Ren was actuallywide awake. His eyes were gigantic, if reddened, orbs that reflectedthe small graying monkey getting ever closer.
“So,are we just going to wait here until it reaches us?” Zeno wonderedaloud to the group.
“Whatshould we do? Beat his ass?” Sammy responded.
“Wecould offer him a banana.” Tara offered up stereotypically. I heldback the urge to ask where we'd get a banana from. Nowadays, the mallhad everything anyway.
“Hemight have lasers or something.” Said Talib, ever helpful.
“Iam… the laser gun carrying... laser gun carrying...” Ren and Imuttered together.
“Whythe hell would the monkey have lasers?” Sammy knocked down fear fora good dose of ignorance rejection.
“Whythe hell would a monkey be in the mall?” Jazzi added.
“Maybehe wants to have a real nigga seminar?” All eyes turned on Cece.
“Aremonkeys niggas?” Tara frowned, turned to face me. She opened hermouth to speak, but I silenced her standing up from my chair. Alleyes flipped to me.
“Well…no point standing here just talking about the thing. I know this is acomplete horror movie pull, but I'm going to go talk to him... her?It?...” I left the table debating with myself about which pronounwould apply to a monkey.
Hewas short. Shorter than either Talib, Jazzi, or CeCe, the threeshortest of my friends. The monkey came up only to my knees, yet hehad an odd type of presence about him. He was a giant in terms ofaura, and stature. It was an instant feeling of confidence, butbeyond that I'd ever felt from any human being. Back then, I ponderedif that aura was real… it felt so palpable... I tend to be right.
Themonkey stopped right in front of me. His long, white beard tickledthe top of my converses. He looked up at me and our eyes met. Ilooked away. Even monkey eyes made me do that. I looked back from thecorner of my eye. The monkey motioned for me to sit down. At least,that would've been the gesticulation coming from a human. Handsymbols vary between cultures. Who knew what that would mean amongour simian ancestors? I crouched down.
Ididn't bother to look around, if they didn't notice a monkey acrouching teen wouldn't ripple the hidden shock, but I did checkcopious times if I had the right position. Things like, Is this hownormal people did it? Would bouncing make me look homosexual? Doesthe meditation pose typically shown in movies make you look morecultured? Among other useful questions occurred in my mind.
“Hello.”The monkey said calmly.
“Hey,what's up?” I responded back apathetically.
Themonkey looked up at the mall's ceilings. “The ceiling, clouds, thesky, space, the infinite expanse of the heavens above.” He noddedto me.
“Err,no. I didn't mean that. It's a colloquialism.”
“Oh,yes. You modern men and your ebonical terms. And your malls! Bah!Don't get me started on the concept of capitalism.”
Iwent stiff in surprise. Ebonical was a word? “Yeah, I agree.Society has a few things wrong with it. I'm Kel.” I reached out myhand for a shake. The monkey slapped it away with his tail.
“Iknow who you are. I knew the moment you asked me 'what's up'. Alwayslooking to the sky…” He trailed off, rubbing his tail as if theslap had been initiated by me. “And keep those filthy things awayfrom me. You men touch anything that comes your way.” Said thetalking monkey as he leaned down to stand on his hands. A group ofteenagers walked pass wearing dirty boots.
“Umm…and your name?”
“Oh,yes, yes. I'm Socrates.”
“Likethe philosopher?”
“Likethe philosopher!? Don't compare me to such simplistic thinking Kel.Socrates wouldn't be half the man were it not for me.”
Istiffened in shock. Wouldn't half the man be a monkey? “You've beenaround that long?”
“I'veseen ages, sky one.” I raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, Kel.”Socrates reached into a pocket in his fur that I hadn't noticed. Iwondered if all monkeys had those, or just the talking ones. Hepulled out a banana shaped pipe, packed it with brown leafs, and litit. “Now, take me to your friends.”
Ipicked up the cigar smoking, talking monkey named Socrates. Heclimbed from my palms onto a perch on my shoulder. He fit theresurprisingly well. The smoke he blew out smelled sweet, like aripened fruit in the jungle. My friends stared at me as I arrivedback at the table. Socrates bounced onto it. I decided to explain asto spare them heart attacks, but Socrates was into pulmonaryembolisms.
“Hello.”Socrates said calmly.
“Ahh!What the fuck?”
“That's…odd.”
“Understatementof the day.”
“Theday?”
“Don'targue about semantics. There's a talking monkey.”
“Hisname is Socrates.” I interjected.
“Likethe philosopher?”
“Likethe philosopher?! Are all of you initiated into a cult for idiocy?”
“He'srude.”
“Ishe?” I asked.
“Kel,honey, you wouldn't get it.”
“OHHH,Renners, look! He's so cuuuuuttte.”
“Huh?Sorry, I nodded off… oh, hey, the monkey.”
“Hehas a great vocabulary.”
“Fora monkey.”
“Fora monkey? Why Talib, young man, do you not know about the theory ofevolution? I remember watching Darwin during his time of writing.”
“Whodoesn't know about it?”
“Wait…how'd you know Talib's name?”
“Fuckthat. How was he watching Darwin?
“Oh,that's right. Forgot to mention it, but Socrates has been around awhile.” I answered.
“Thanks….for explaining absolutely nothing to me.”
“Don'tbe rude. We have guest.”
“Idon't remember inviting insanity to the mall.”
“Orhallucinations.”
“Disturbia.”
“Yawn.That was just a movie, babe.”
“Agood one.”
“ShiaLabeouf is terrible.”
“What?Disturbia was amazing!” I yelled.
“Eagleeye? Even Stevens?”
“Darksideof the-”
“Don'tspeak of demons!”
“UhHUM!” Socrates coughed, pulling us out of our heated debate. Isettled the points I had prepared to argue in my defense. Zeno had afire in his eyes, ready to oppose for the other side.
“That'swhy you shouldn't smoke.” Tara reached for Socrates banana shapedpipe, he slapped her hand away with his tail.
! “Rudeness.” Shemuttered, rubbing her hand.
“Howabout all of you brats stop prattling on and listen?” He pulled apocket watch from his fur pocket. I wondered where a monkey wouldhave to be in a timely fashion. “There's not a lot of time. I'm notat full strength, and shouldn't even be running around like this.”He held up the walking stick as if that explained everything. “Themare no doubt somewhere around.”
“Everyoneis somewhere.”
“Evenin the middle of nowhere?”
“Isn'tthe middle of nowhere, somewhere?” I questioned.
“Somewherecould be anywhere.”
“Oreverywhere.”
“Shouldn'tyou have said they?”
“Shutup.” Socrates slapped Talib with his tail, he looked ratherconfused seeing as he hadn't been speaking. “Them are known asthem, and only them.”
“Goodjob avoiding using other four letter T words.”
“Oh,hey. Tara!” I counted the letters in Tara's name. Funny.
“Shutup.” Socrates slapped Talib again. He rubbed the red, tail shapedimprint on his face in anger. He still hadn't spoken. A few of uslaughed. Socrates threatened Talib with his tail again. “Iunderstand all of this may be confusing. It'll make sense later on.The world will make sense, and time shall move as always. To thefuture, to the past, what is the present? Horizontal eights.”
“Youdefinitely had that speech planned.”
“Monkeysplan speeches?”
“Monkeyshave speeches?”
Socratessighed, lowering his tail from hitting Talib who'd now picked up histray as a weapon. Obviously defeated, he continued on as if we hadn'tspoken. His pocket watch began to ring, making a strange, slowwhirring sound. It's odd, but I pegged it as the sound of the Earthrotating. “I must go now. Take this and meet me later. For you,it'll appear to be ten o'clock that I want you there.”
“Fourhours till a monkey gala? Oh, no. How will I ever have time toprepare.” Talib, finally daring to speak, instantly receivedanother slap. Perhaps Socrates hadn't been defeated at all.
Igrabbed the 'this' he'd been referring to. A small business card toa… motel. “Motel 8?”
“Eww.That's worse than Cottage Inn.”
“Theirpizza is kind of gross.”
“Themotel 8 in the hood?”
“TrayvonMart Inn?
“Whoa.”
“Toosoon?”
“CheckSocrates watch. What is the present?!”
“Ohho! Scary monkey!”
Socratessighed, jumping down from the table. He stared back at us with adisappointed glance. “You kids are ridiculous. If all wasn't atstake, I'd really avoid helping you stay alive. Just be at the Motelon time.” With that, Socrates began his slow walk off. A stream ofcigar smoke, and the steady clicking of his walking staff trailedbehind him.
“Doesanybody find it weird a talking monkey just called us ridiculous?”I put forth.
“Howabout a talking monkey in the first place?” Talib gave me aconcerned glance. I felt more concern about the welts growing on hisface.
“Soare we actually going to go?”
“Iam. When a talking monkey tells you to…”
“Hecould be a serial killer in a monkey suit.”
“Thatshort?”
“Amidget?”
“Whatif Tarzan was raised by midgets…”
“Err,he'd still be Tarzan. Just with shorter parents.”
“Whywould his adoptive family's height factor in at all?”
“Naturevs Nurture. He might adopt their Napoleon Complex.”
“That'squite improbable.”
“Sexyass word.”
“Improbable?I submit to you a real life talking simian.”
“Hey!He has a name, geezers.”
“Alright,I'll go.”
“Metoo.”
“Meh.”
“So,all in then?” Everyone nodded. “Good. Hope the house doesn't takethe ante.”
“Idon't think you've ever played poker.”
“Seeyou guys at 10 for our real nigga simian-ar.” Cece gathered herthings.
“Youstretched that one.”
“Blar.Let's all just meet up outside the motel at 10.”
“Whowants to get high?” We all began to disperse.
“Wait…didhe say he was helping us stay alive?” We all walked away.
! –- Update From New Post Merge ---
! Arr, I'm actually scrapping this story, because I need to rework it to fit it in my larger universe of stories... but I didn't have time to finish the short story I wanted, so posting this up for the month.
! Without further ado... Horizontal 8's Chapter 2:
! >! PhilosophicalMonkeys on Practical Consumerism__Beforedaybreak there were none… And as it broke there was one
Frommoon to sun, it goes on and on
The winter battle was won...
Thesummer children were born
And so the story goes on and on
! “Really?This is what you guys been doing?” I asked my friends, me and Cecewalking up to the table. The group of them, always the eight, sat atthe food court in the mall.
Crowdsof people milled around us, trotting like zombies off to buy more andmore. I really, really hated malls. Not only because of how much Ihate crowds. I also hate consumerism.
Platesand bags decorated the table in front of my friends. Each bag from adifferent store. Each plate from a different food place. Haphazardlyphones, ipods, and tablets accentuated perfectly.
Cecewore a beautiful sundress, the perfect summer wear for any woman.Sammy had on an Adventure Time shirt, with punkishly ripped jeans.Ren had slapped on a simple gray t-shirt with basketball shorts.Jazzi was sidled into a pair of purple overalls with a Gir hat, Ireserved commentary. Zeno a striped polo, faded jeans, and timberlandboots; he deliberately liked to looked poor. Talib was dressed in ablue crew neck, black cargo shorts, and for some reason a single nikeglove. Tara had recently become a stylist this year, and her customerbase had grown much farther than I'd expected. Tara had directlydressed Talib, she always said he dressed Drakeishly.
Meanwhile,the queen of style herself had went above and beyond the cause ofsimple mall job. She had slid her petite frame into William Rast mintgreen skinny jeans. Donned above that, bearing a bit of her midriffwas a sheer, vintage white Fred Segall tie-up shirt. Closing it offwere multi-hued color blocked wedges. She, of course, also had a fewname brand accessories that I don't feel like recollecting, norasking her about right now.
“Whatdo you mean, Kelzie?” Sammy asked. Her eyes were so red.
“Kelershates people shopping. Cause, you know, he's weird.” Said Jazzi ofall people. I hated that stupid habit of adding er to things. I gaveher a blank face.
“Andalso a hypocrite.” Tara, carrying at least nine bags, each from adifferent store, looked me up and down. Beat-up converse shoes, khakicargo shorts, gray tanktop, flash emblem tattoo. I didn't seeanything wrong. Unless she meant the three necklaces, and fivebracelets, but there was nothing wrong with accessorizing right?
“Whatever.”I yawned, motioning Cece to sit at the table, and sitting in-betweenTara and Talib. It was June 21st,the first day of summer. Our parking lot adventure had been just thenight before, and the gang had decided to hit the mall. No doubt torelease all the intelligence I'd inject into their minds yesterday.As usual, I'd overslept. Cece was the only one who waited on me. She,at least, was a real nigga. Smelling the aroma coming from most ofthem, minus Tara at the least, I could tell they'd been smoking. Goodstuff too. And without me. Not real niggas.
Thatexplained their discussions. They'd jumped from music, to themesongs, to cartoons, and somehow to cereal. I stopped caring aroundthe time Talib made a legit argument comparing frosted flakes tococaine. Those things were addictive. I raised my eyebrow as Taraexcused herself to go get yogurt. She was such a foodie, couldn't goanywhere without getting a little snack.
Shestill had a nice body though. Such a nice body. Damn, I loved her.Shit, I still love her. I'll always love her. I can't help lovingher. I hated the strangers. All drones. Slaves. Zombies. Slow motionpurchasers of poison and nonsense. I fingered the half smoked blackin my pocket. Tara made it.
Herand the yogurt vendors conversation seemed… too animated. The girlbehind her in line looked exactly like Posh spice. I wondered if I'dhave to get with her friends. Faintly, in my hearing, I could hear amonkey making noises. Ooo-Ooo-Ahhh-Ahhh. I almost tossed it up tobeing high before I remembered I didn't smoke. Meh, probably stuck inmy system.
Taracame back to the table, with no frozen yogurt. She looked quite sad.
“Whatwas that about?” I asked, not meaning to cut everyone off, but forsome reason they all went quiet. I had the same feeling as theparking lot yesterday. I went on fog lookout.
“Well…first he told me I couldn't buy a yogurt. Then he tried to sell me tohis manager, I think. It was... odd.” Tara chewed on her lips,something she often did when concentrating. Audrey Hepburn was one ofher idols. Damn, she was sexy.
“Weirdestof all. Kel, he told me you should write the monkey story.”
“Themonkey story?” I asked, confused. Puzzle placed. Sky.
“Isthat some kind of inside joke?” Sammy. She knew most of me andTara's inside jokes at this point. She liked to ask a lot ofquestions about my personal life. Sam had a huge crush on me. Ipretended obliviousness. Although me and T did have many insidejokes, such as the elephant camouflage thing, this wasn't one ofthem. I was as confused as her.
“I'mas confused as you.” Tara said, making me mutter psychic under mybreath.
“Maybeit was symbolic?” Zeno trailed off. His dark-skin contrastedterribly with that polo. He was eating a subway sandwich with onehand, twirling around a dread with the other. Thinking pose.
“Idon't think so…” Talib sounded astonished.
“Iwas just offering a hypothesis.” Zeno shrugged.
“No,look…” Talib pointed to the escalator. All our eyes followed. Allour jaws dropped. All our minds blew. Nothing was ever the same.
“I…I think I'm high as fuck.” Ren said. Mentally, we all agreed.
Now,as I begin to write this, I realize, you may find a lot of thingsfrom this point on crazy, odd, and downright stupid and unbelievable.Don't worry. I'm just a weird guy, that's why I didn't. I always knewsomething like this would happen to me. Something special. Somethingdifferent. Hell, I'm the guy who claimed he was born on Saturn fromkindergarten on up. Still say it now, although I have a betterbacking. Just, think outside the box.
“Thatcan't be real.” Tara, the only forever sober one, proved to us thatwe weren't just hallucinating from last nights after-shocks.
Therewas a short gray monkey riding down the escalator.
Hehad a smug look on his face, eying the people around as if they weretwenty thousand leagues below him, despite the height difference. Hewas carrying a brown branch as a walking stick. To me, he looked likea combination of the evil chimp from family guy and that old baboonfrom the lion king. The fact that nobody seemed to notice him wasodd. The oddest part? He was monkey walking, well monkey escalatingdownwards, right to us.
“So,I'm totally not the only one who sees that right?” Talib asked forclarity.
“No.”Sammy responded blankly. I'd never heard her sound genuinely afraidbefore. No matter how much she tried to compare her suburban home tothe slums of Ghana.
“Renners,am I awake?” Jazzi asked childlishly.
“Iam.” I turned around to say barely, but for once Ren was actuallywide awake. His eyes were gigantic, if reddened, orbs that reflectedthe small graying monkey getting ever closer.
“So,are we just going to wait here until it reaches us?” Zeno wonderedaloud to the group.
“Whatshould we do? Beat his ass?” Sammy responded.
“Wecould offer him a banana.” Tara offered up stereotypically. I heldback the urge to ask where we'd get a banana from. Nowadays, the mallhad everything anyway.
“Hemight have lasers or something.” Said Talib, ever helpful.
“Iam… the laser gun carrying... laser gun carrying...” Ren and Imuttered together.
“Whythe hell would the monkey have lasers?” Sammy knocked down fear fora good dose of ignorance rejection.
“Whythe hell would a monkey be in the mall?” Jazzi added.
“Maybehe wants to have a real nigga seminar?” All eyes turned on Cece.
“Aremonkeys niggas?” Tara frowned, turned to face me. She opened hermouth to speak, but I silenced her standing up from my chair. Alleyes flipped to me.
“Well…no point standing here just talking about the thing. I know this is acomplete horror movie pull, but I'm going to go talk to him... her?It?...” I left the table debating with myself about which pronounwould apply to a monkey.
Hewas short. Shorter than either Talib, Jazzi, or CeCe, the threeshortest of my friends. The monkey came up only to my knees, yet hehad an odd type of presence about him. He was a giant in terms ofaura, and stature. It was an instant feeling of confidence, butbeyond that I'd ever felt from any human being. Back then, I ponderedif that aura was real… it felt so palpable... I tend to be right.
Themonkey stopped right in front of me. His long, white beard tickledthe top of my converses. He looked up at me and our eyes met. Ilooked away. Even monkey eyes made me do that. I looked back from thecorner of my eye. The monkey motioned for me to sit down. At least,that would've been the gesticulation coming from a human. Handsymbols vary between cultures. Who knew what that would mean amongour simian ancestors? I crouched down.
Ididn't bother to look around, if they didn't notice a monkey acrouching teen wouldn't ripple the hidden shock, but I did checkcopious times if I had the right position. Things like, Is this hownormal people did it? Would bouncing make me look homosexual? Doesthe meditation pose typically shown in movies make you look morecultured? Among other useful questions occurred in my mind.
“Hello.”The monkey said calmly.
“Hey,what's up?” I responded back apathetically.
Themonkey looked up at the mall's ceilings. “The ceiling, clouds, thesky, space, the infinite expanse of the heavens above.” He noddedto me.
“Err,no. I didn't mean that. It's a colloquialism.”
“Oh,yes. You modern men and your ebonical terms. And your malls! Bah!Don't get me started on the concept of capitalism.”
Iwent stiff in surprise. Ebonical was a word? “Yeah, I agree.Society has a few things wrong with it. I'm Kel.” I reached out myhand for a shake. The monkey slapped it away with his tail.
“Iknow who you are. I knew the moment you asked me 'what's up'. Alwayslooking to the sky…” He trailed off, rubbing his tail as if theslap had been initiated by me. “And keep those filthy things awayfrom me. You men touch anything that comes your way.” Said thetalking monkey as he leaned down to stand on his hands. A group ofteenagers walked pass wearing dirty boots.
“Umm…and your name?”
“Oh,yes, yes. I'm Socrates.”
“Likethe philosopher?”
“Likethe philosopher!? Don't compare me to such simplistic thinking Kel.Socrates wouldn't be half the man were it not for me.”
Istiffened in shock. Wouldn't half the man be a monkey? “You've beenaround that long?”
“I'veseen ages, sky one.” I raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, Kel.”Socrates reached into a pocket in his fur that I hadn't noticed. Iwondered if all monkeys had those, or just the talking ones. Hepulled out a banana shaped pipe, packed it with brown leafs, and litit. “Now, take me to your friends.”
Ipicked up the cigar smoking, talking monkey named Socrates. Heclimbed from my palms onto a perch on my shoulder. He fit theresurprisingly well. The smoke he blew out smelled sweet, like aripened fruit in the jungle. My friends stared at me as I arrivedback at the table. Socrates bounced onto it. I decided to explain asto spare them heart attacks, but Socrates was into pulmonaryembolisms.
“Hello.”Socrates said calmly.
“Ahh!What the fuck?”
“That's…odd.”
“Understatementof the day.”
“Theday?”
“Don'targue about semantics. There's a talking monkey.”
“Hisname is Socrates.” I interjected.
“Likethe philosopher?”
“Likethe philosopher?! Are all of you initiated into a cult for idiocy?”
“He'srude.”
“Ishe?” I asked.
“Kel,honey, you wouldn't get it.”
“OHHH,Renners, look! He's so cuuuuuttte.”
“Huh?Sorry, I nodded off… oh, hey, the monkey.”
“Hehas a great vocabulary.”
“Fora monkey.”
“Fora monkey? Why Talib, young man, do you not know about the theory ofevolution? I remember watching Darwin during his time of writing.”
“Whodoesn't know about it?”
“Wait…how'd you know Talib's name?”
“Fuckthat. How was he watching Darwin?
“Oh,that's right. Forgot to mention it, but Socrates has been around awhile.” I answered.
“Thanks….for explaining absolutely nothing to me.”
“Don'tbe rude. We have guest.”
“Idon't remember inviting insanity to the mall.”
“Orhallucinations.”
“Disturbia.”
“Yawn.That was just a movie, babe.”
“Agood one.”
“ShiaLabeouf is terrible.”
“What?Disturbia was amazing!” I yelled.
“Eagleeye? Even Stevens?”
“Darksideof the-”
“Don'tspeak of demons!”
“UhHUM!” Socrates coughed, pulling us out of our heated debate. Isettled the points I had prepared to argue in my defense. Zeno had afire in his eyes, ready to oppose for the other side.
“That'swhy you shouldn't smoke.” Tara reached for Socrates banana shapedpipe, he slapped her hand away with his tail.
! “Rudeness.” Shemuttered, rubbing her hand.
“Howabout all of you brats stop prattling on and listen?” He pulled apocket watch from his fur pocket. I wondered where a monkey wouldhave to be in a timely fashion. “There's not a lot of time. I'm notat full strength, and shouldn't even be running around like this.”He held up the walking stick as if that explained everything. “Themare no doubt somewhere around.”
“Everyoneis somewhere.”
“Evenin the middle of nowhere?”
“Isn'tthe middle of nowhere, somewhere?” I questioned.
“Somewherecould be anywhere.”
“Oreverywhere.”
“Shouldn'tyou have said they?”
“Shutup.” Socrates slapped Talib with his tail, he looked ratherconfused seeing as he hadn't been speaking. “Them are known asthem, and only them.”
“Goodjob avoiding using other four letter T words.”
“Oh,hey. Tara!” I counted the letters in Tara's name. Funny.
“Shutup.” Socrates slapped Talib again. He rubbed the red, tail shapedimprint on his face in anger. He still hadn't spoken. A few of uslaughed. Socrates threatened Talib with his tail again. “Iunderstand all of this may be confusing. It'll make sense later on.The world will make sense, and time shall move as always. To thefuture, to the past, what is the present? Horizontal eights.”
“Youdefinitely had that speech planned.”
“Monkeysplan speeches?”
“Monkeyshave speeches?”
Socratessighed, lowering his tail from hitting Talib who'd now picked up histray as a weapon. Obviously defeated, he continued on as if we hadn'tspoken. His pocket watch began to ring, making a strange, slowwhirring sound. It's odd, but I pegged it as the sound of the Earthrotating. “I must go now. Take this and meet me later. For you,it'll appear to be ten o'clock that I want you there.”
“Fourhours till a monkey gala? Oh, no. How will I ever have time toprepare.” Talib, finally daring to speak, instantly receivedanother slap. Perhaps Socrates hadn't been defeated at all.
Igrabbed the 'this' he'd been referring to. A small business card toa… motel. “Motel 8?”
“Eww.That's worse than Cottage Inn.”
“Theirpizza is kind of gross.”
“Themotel 8 in the hood?”
“TrayvonMart Inn?
“Whoa.”
“Toosoon?”
“CheckSocrates watch. What is the present?!”
“Ohho! Scary monkey!”
Socratessighed, jumping down from the table. He stared back at us with adisappointed glance. “You kids are ridiculous. If all wasn't atstake, I'd really avoid helping you stay alive. Just be at the Motelon time.” With that, Socrates began his slow walk off. A stream ofcigar smoke, and the steady clicking of his walking staff trailedbehind him.
“Doesanybody find it weird a talking monkey just called us ridiculous?”I put forth.
“Howabout a talking monkey in the first place?” Talib gave me aconcerned glance. I felt more concern about the welts growing on hisface.
“Soare we actually going to go?”
“Iam. When a talking monkey tells you to…”
“Hecould be a serial killer in a monkey suit.”
“Thatshort?”
“Amidget?”
“Whatif Tarzan was raised by midgets…”
“Err,he'd still be Tarzan. Just with shorter parents.”
“Whywould his adoptive family's height factor in at all?”
“Naturevs Nurture. He might adopt their Napoleon Complex.”
“That'squite improbable.”
“Sexyass word.”
“Improbable?I submit to you a real life talking simian.”
“Hey!He has a name, geezers.”
“Alright,I'll go.”
“Metoo.”
“Meh.”
“So,all in then?” Everyone nodded. “Good. Hope the house doesn't takethe ante.”
“Idon't think you've ever played poker.”
“Seeyou guys at 10 for our real nigga simian-ar.” Cece gathered herthings.
“Youstretched that one.”
“Blar.Let's all just meet up outside the motel at 10.”
“Whowants to get high?” We all began to disperse.
“Wait…didhe say he was helping us stay alive?” We all walked away.