The fruit was a wild success. Everybody enjoyed the mangoes, particularly, and there was no fighting over them since there were plenty to go around. The lesbians had apparently had a blast with the spider monkey, and Daisy promised when she brought him back that they’d definitely be using my service for more events. Even the numbnuts who rented the golden lion tamarin seemed happy with his purchase, if a little drunk, when he came back. Luckily the monkey wasn’t drunk – if he ingested more than half a shot, he’d probably have gone into cardiac arrest, and I’d have been heartbroken.
I had a few beers before bed and ended up trying to teach the squirrel monkey how to use the toilet to no avail. He made a bit of a mess but was nice enough to help clean it up. We all went outside for a bathroom break at 2:00, and I contemplated just using diapers around the clock to avoid being noticed by the neighbors. Around 2:30 am everyone fell asleep and I noticed a message from Liz: “U sure r in2 monkeys lately. They r ok with cannibalism. Saw it on Animal Planet.”
I gave the tamarin the kiwi and let him sleep on my pillow.
* * * * * *
The next day started at dawn, when hoots and screeches from the kitchen woke me up. Monkeys start their days with a bang; this was taking some getting used to. I tend to wake up early myself, but then lie in bed doing nothing for a few hours before getting out of bed. Most of the time my thoughts fire off randomly and it’s hard for me to concentrate, but in the morning light my brain stays calm and quiet. Monkeys, on the other hand, like to be up with the sun and making as much goddamn noise as possible. Good thing they’re monkeys, and therefore hanging out with them is worth getting up for. I decided to get into the swing of things right today. I was pretty sure most of them had forgotten about the Cheez-Its incident, but I was eager to prove myself friendly to the marmoset, who still seemed suspicious.
When I entered the kitchen, the morning grooming was just getting under way. I settled down with the female spider monkey, who was looking a little more alert, but was still out of it enough to let me groom her without even a murmur of approval. Before long I had the male working through my hair and the capuchin picking at my beard. I was really surprised at how nice it felt – these monkeys knew what they were doing and didn’t pull, just gently picked through it at the roots. I was completely relaxed in a few minutes and found myself working through a second hairy back for a while before I realized it was the marmoset. We seemed to have made peace.
I was thinking about the social importance of grooming in monkey culture given that monkeys born and raised in captivity don’t have many bugs living in their fur, when I heard my phone beep in my pocket. Luckily the sound didn’t disturb the calm mood prevailing in the kitchen, as it fit in with the soft cooing noises going on around me.
Text from Liz: “Just got off plane – c u in 2 hours.”
I looked up at the squirrel monkey, who was looking back at me with a concerned expression. “Shit,” I said out loud. “This place is a mess. The roommate will not want to help us out if she comes home to this. Let’s get going, guys.”
My outburst had brought the grooming to a standstill and all eyes were directed at me. This was going to be fantastic. If only I had 17 tiny aprons…
* * * * * *
An hour later the Great Cleaning was in full swing. I’d started things off badly by trying to get them to scrub the bathroom with Mr. Clean. The fumes went straight to everybody’s heads and things got a little crazy before I got them all into the living room and fresh air. I seemed to have become more or less the pack leader (if groups of monkeys are even called packs. How the hell do I know?). They mimicked most everything I did, if I did it loudly and publicly; by the time I got my next message from Liz I had a working assembly line going on the dishes and another group cleaning up the fruit seeds and pits on the floor. The macaque and the squirrel monkey, more or less the smartest of the bunch, were washing the kitchen floor with water and vinegar to get any last remnants of urine.
Liz’s text read: “Just got on the El. How r the ‘monkeys’?”
“Great,” I wrote back, “they r doing the dishes!”
I got nothing back from her.
By the time I heard Liz coming up the front stairs the Monkey Maids (as I had decided to name our next commercial venture) had cleaned the apartment from top to bottom. I knew she’d be impressed by the shininess of the floor before she noticed the furry shapes scattered around on it. We were grooming again, in the living room this time, to show her how civilized we were.
The entry-way door opened and all grooming stopped for a moment. I didn’t want anyone going crazy when Liz walked in – it’d be the end of everything if she got mauled. So I made a show of continuing to groom the titi monkey to get everyone started again. Everyone relaxed and went on grooming, hardly looking up when the interior door swung open. The tamarin was the only one interested – he jumped onto my shoulder and peered around my head at her.
“Hey,” she said, setting her bag down without looking around. “Man, that El ride was crazy, there was this Bible guy in my car talking about repentance and...” She looked up finally and trailed off. Her face had been flushed from walking with a suitcase already, but I thought I saw her cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. The tamarin squeaked at her inquisitively. I gave him a pat. Her tension was palpable so I tried to keep my energy calm in response – these savages took their cues from me, not her. I’d have to concentrate.
“Leo.” She didn’t say anything else for a long time. She just stared around at the animals, then at me, then at the animals, then at me, and so on. Her eyes were huge, but they didn’t look surprised. They looked… tired. “Leo.”
“Yes, Liz. Hi. It’s good to see you! You look like you got some relaxing in on you vacation. That’s great, cause we have a lot of work to do around here.”
This broke her reverie. Her head snapped into position and the blueness of her eyes startled me. “Leo. There are monkeys. All over the apartment.”
“Yes, Liz.”
”I really thought you were joking. I don’t know why, but I just thought, you know, monkeys? No. Not even Leo would be ridiculous enough to get… How the hell did you even get all these monkeys in here? This is – this can’t be legal! What are they doing here?”
The capuchin was getting tense behind me as she talked. I could feel his fingers moving less nimbly through my hair. The spider monkey looked from me to her and back as if trying to decide who to side with.
“Relax, Liz,” I said quietly. “These monkeys have to be here. I saved them from certain death. The research lab at school got shut down and they had nowhere to send them. So I took them in.”
”What?! Who would just let you – you– just walk off with all these monkeys? We have no license, no training, no facilities, nothing for keeping fucking primates in our fucking apartment!”
She was getting agitated. All grooming had stopped and a few chirps and hoots sounded from the peanut gallery.
“Liz, really, relax. It’s fine. My friend Johannes worked at the lab and he told me they’d be put down if nobody took them. They’re all in good health, no diseases, born and bred in captivity so they love people. They’re smart, too. Look, they cleaned the whole apartment this morning just for you! I taught them how to do the dishes and wash the floor in twenty minutes! And look, they’re so sweet, they’ll even groom you!”
She said nothing but I noticed how tightly clenched her fists were. The titi puffed his cheeks and the marmosets babbled quietly.
“Seriously, Liz, relax,” I said meaningfully. “They’re very sweet, but they’re monkeys. They’re excitable. You should have seen the fight over the Cheez-Its yesterday. We wouldn’t that to happen again.” I spoke slowly to be sure she'd get my point.
She glanced around. All eyes were fastened on her. She looked back at me and I watched her force her body to relax, although her eyes were still murderous. That’s why I like Liz so much, I think. She reacts like most anybody else to strange situations, but she handles herself well.
“Let’s talk about this outside, shall we?” she intoned. “So we don’t upset the monkeys.”
I wanted to argue with her but remembered how important it was to get not only her complacence in this situation, but also her complicity with my plans. I patted the capuchin and squirrel monkeys reassuringly and handed the tamarin to the spider monkey. Their eyes were large and confused. “I’ll be right back, guys.”
We stepped out onto the front stoop and I closed the door quietly behind me. When I turned to Liz she had her arms folded. Not a good sign.
“This is going to be great!” I started. “Fucking monkeys, Liz! They’re ours! They’re so cool! And they love me!”
“Leo!” She threw her hands up. “I don’t even know how to start to tell you what a bad idea this is. How could you even think… I mean… There are so many things wrong with this!”
“Hey, look at the bright side,” I countered. “They’re monkeys.”
“Bright? Sure they’re cute, but, Leo, these are wild animals! I don’t care if they’ve been raised in captivity, they’re fucking monkeys. We don’t have any sort of licensing to keep even one monkey, let alone… however many there are in there!”
“Seventeen,” I provided.
“Seventeen monkeys? Are you crazy? Wait, wait, never mind. What a stupid question. Of course, seventeen, why not? Why not a fucking thousand?”
I said nothing as she collected herself, then started in. ”Hey, in my own defense, I didn’t take all the monkeys from the lab. I know we’re not equipped for large numbers. I didn’t take any apes, just monkeys, although I was tempted by the bonobos. They’re really cool apes, and I thought they could help take care of the dumber monkeys, but then I remembered that their main past-time is having sex with each other and I thought that could go all kinds of wrong. So I turned down all the apes.”
“Oh, great, thanks, Leo,” she said, unfolding her arms and gesticulating wildly with each point she made. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Monkeys are intelligent, high-maintenance animals. They’re like children. They require constant care and supervision. And… and food! And- shit, why do I even have to explain this? How the hell are we going to-”
I cut her off. “Look, I’ve been feeding them two days now. They all eat fruit so it’s really easy. We’ve got plenty of space in the living room, especially if we buy some playground equipment for climbing, or just string up some ropes. We do have to teach them to use the toilet or get diapers, but beyond that they care for themselves! They’re like... like cooperative and sweet and furry children. We can do this.”
”Ok, Leo, ok,” she said, folding her arms again. Back on defense. “Say you’re right and we have no problems with them and everybody in the neighborhood just somehow manages to not notice us raising a clan of primates, and they all love each other like fucking brothers and sisters. How do we afford this? How the hell do we buy a hundred pounds of fruit a day and all the massive amounts of diapers? How do we keep seventeen monkeys on our salaries? Not to even get into the cost of medical care! What if they have babies and then there are more monkeys? How will we diaper and feed an army of monkeys?”
I grinned. “Ok, firstly: there’s only one mating pair in there, and monkeys may be crazy but they don’t have sex with other species. Ok, so no worries on the reproduction thing. And about the money: I have this allll worked out. That ‘army of monkeys’ in there made us $675 last night. Which more than paid for the fruit and the hair product… well, shit, I forgot to buy replacements for the hair products we used… but yeah. $675. In one night.”
She stared at me with very obviously unbelieving eyes.
“Seriously, Liz. I’m renting them. It’s genius! I put an ad up on Craigslist, ‘Monkeys for Hire.’ $75 an hour, or $150 for three hours, or $400 for the whole night. They do parties, bar mitzvahs, professional conferences, fundraisers, charity benefits… pretty much everything. No costumes provided – yet – but if you have one at the event, they’ll wear it. They’ll sit on shoulders and take tips, run drinks or carry hors d'oeuvres, open the door, sit on the piano, just look cute… Whatever you want! And Liz, I mean, I only started advertising yesterday afternoon, and I already made almost $700! This could be huge!”
She stared at me in silence for a moment. Her eyes still said murder, but her arms weren’t crossed. “$675. That’s pretty good. That’s half the rent.”
“Yeah! I’m telling you Liz, it’s great. And man, today they cleaned the apartment! We can start renting them out as – get this! – Monkey Maids! Charge twice the regular rates since they’re performing a valuable service, and get them some little aprons. It’ll be huge! You can quit your job to take care of them! Have more fun with monkeys than you ever would at the dentist’s office, and make twice the amount!”
This line of reasoning somehow backfired. “Wait,” she burst out, “I have to quit my job? Bullshit! This whole thing is your idea! Why should I spend all my time taking care of them? You quit your job!”
I shrugged. “Ok, I’m just saying, the money is going to be fantastic.”
Her arms re-folded again. This girl is tough. “Oh, yeah, right, we’re gonna make so much money. It’s bad enough that we are illegally housing seventeen monkeys, but now you’re advertising it? Yeah, let’s just tell everyone that we have a primal horde of monkeys! On Craigslist, the most official site ever, where nothing illegal ever happens! Where we’ll look so trustworthy! What kind of morons did you rent these animals to last night? I can’t believe the cops aren’t here right now!” Her arms were still crossed, but her hands were moving.
“Liz, please. I’ve got it under control. Johannes is going to help keep the police off our backs for a while with lots of paperwork about their whereabouts, and advertising on Craigslist will get us a decent following before attracting the attention of the authorities. Cops don't even look on there. By the time we’re a big enough deal for Animal Welfare to come down on our heads, we’ll have made enough to buy all the proper licenses and facilities. I’ve got it all planned. And I promise, even if something goes haywire I’ll take the fall. I won’t let them blame you for my mistake.”
That last line was golden. She almost smiled. I was in.
“Look,” I put my hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “Just give it a try. Help me out till you go back to work on Wednesday, and if you still think it’s a bad idea, we’ll call Johannes and ask for some help getting rid of them.”
She nodded, arms crossed again. “Don’t think this is going to last long,” she said, “but ok. I’ll try it.”
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