Tweety & the Monkey Man Read online

  Angie didn’t need to know where that money really came from. I’d cleared a chic new condo of some ornery minor demons who’d been invited in by one of the residents, a greedy investment broker who worked downtown. We made a deal that involved him not going to jail in exchange for spending some of his ill-gotten wealth to pay for the damage the demons had caused and the establishment of Angie’s trust.

  I caught up with her and bumped her with my hip. She smiled and bumped me back. We were fine. The kids squirmed in their seats, so we walked even faster.

  “This is so nice to do with the little ones,” she said. “The twins are in trouble with their fourth-grade teachers again. Did I tell you how they switched clothes last week and pretended to be each other?”

  “Identical twin boys are going to do that, don’t you think? It seems natural. I’d do it if I were an identical eight-year-old twin,” I said.

  Angie waved off my comment. “They’re going to drive me bonkers. James came in the house crying the other day because his brother was teasing him. It took several hours and a Netflix movie to calm him down.”

  “What was that about?”

  “James said he saw a jackalope, but Jack said there was no such thing, and the two got into a fight about it. James pushed his brother into a puddle, which made Jack push James, and by the time they both got inside, they were soaked, bruised, and James was crying, saying he didn’t lie.”

  “What did Jack say?”

  “Jack wouldn’t back down either and said James was lying.”

  I asked the next part with care. “Did James say what the jackalope looked like?”

  Angie made a wry smile. “A rabbit about the size of a medium-sized dog, but with antlers. Of course, Jack is right, there is no such thing, but I do love James’s imagination.”

  I was quiet, wondering what was happening in the southern and southwestern territories. Jackalopes didn’t usually come this far north. If James had really seen the damn thing, I might have to educate him in the way of monsters right quick, since many of them cast a glamour to go unseen. If James could see through that, he was in for a tough time if I didn’t get to him first. My kids could already see through any glamour since they were raised with monster lore from the very beginning.

  “Hey, did you see that they closed the gorilla exhibit?” Angie asked this as we got to Elephant Crossing, which was near the entrance and always our first stop. The goal was to get past the stuffed animal gift shop as quickly as possible.

  “I did, and I was disappointed because I was hoping to get up there today,” I said, keeping my voice nonchalant. I kept Angie in the dark about my monster hunting to protect her and the children. The only thing Angie knew about my work is that I handled “crisis communications.”

  “Well, we’ll walk past and see if they have opened anything. Did you hear about…”

  I got a nose full of something and stopped, sniffing this way and that.

  “What is it?” Angie asked.

  “Something smells strange.”

  “We’re at the elephants. Of course, something smells strange.”

  “No, like something is burning. Aw, crap.” I closed my eyes to hide my alarm while wondering how quickly a phoenix could regenerate. I was also a little curious about why the phoenix was here and why it burned again.

  “Jess, what’s wrong?” Angie inhaled too, walking up the hill toward the burning smell. “Chicken?” she asked. “Is there a stand selling fried chicken? That would be new.”

  “I’m not sure it’s chicken,” I replied as we rounded the hill, getting closer to Waterfowl Lake. That’s when we heard the screaming, high-pitched screams only children make, and sprinted toward the chaos.

  “I saw a big turkey on fire!” cried a girl who looked about eight years old, pointing to a pillar of ashes close to the lake. The boy next to her, a younger brother most likely, was sobbing. Their mother was snatching tissues out of her handbag to wipe their tears and offering granola bars. Other people ran as fast as their legs, strollers, and crutches would carry them.

  Angie managed to gasp, “Who would come to the zoo with crutches? The paths are miles long. Stupid.”

  An entire field trip of first graders was in hysterics, teachers struggling to corral them into a safe area. One of the teachers stood on tip-toe counting heads, but the herd shifted, and she started again. She mumbled, “Please be twenty-three. Please be twenty-three.”

  “What do you think happened?” Angie yelled, attempting to be heard over the squawking geese, swans, and children. “Ahhhh! Duck!”

  I ducked, lifting my hands over my head. “What? What is it?”

  “A duck pooped on my shoe.” Angie stomped her foot. “I like these shoes. Damn. You can’t get duck poop out no matter how much Spray n’ Wash you use.”

  I swallowed a laugh. “I guess this chaos scared the crap out of him.”

  My friend rolled my eyes, mouthing, “Very funny.”

  “Everybody calm down!” A woman wearing the blue blazer uniform of a zoo employee spoke through a megaphone. “I’m afraid a gentleman didn’t observe our no-smoking policy and set a topiary on fire when he discarded his cigarette.”

  The teacher coughed into her hand. “Bullshit.”

  “We are calling in the fire department in an abundance of caution. Security guards are at every egress. Please take your children and exit in a calm manner. Everything is okay.”

  A man holding an infant on his shoulder, rocking a stroller with his right foot, couldn’t take it. “Birds set themselves on fire every day? I mean, a massive goose or a swan or some other large bird combusted and you stand there and say, ‘Everything is okay?’ Are you insane?”

  The woman smoothed her hair. “As I said, it was a topiary, not a real bird, and it was caused by a lit cigarette butt, which is strictly against our policy. We will investigate this incident, but for now, no one is injured, and we need to regain order. Everyone please make your way to the…”

  “Gorilla! Gorilla!”

  “A gorilla is loose!

  “Run for your lives!”

  A frazzled man wearing a “zoo blue” blazer rocketed down the hill, waving hands over his head to point to the exits. “Evacuate! Evacuate!”

  “Archie! What’s happening?” yelled blue-blazer lady, stopping him mid-run.

  He whispered to her, gesticulating with his hands to indicate something tall and big. Then he whispered something else that made the lady blanch.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” announced blue-blazer lady. “I’m sure there is nothing to worry about, but if you would please make your way to the exits.”

  Dozens of people ran full-tilt from the monkey house down the path, running over other people, dropping lunch bags, bottles, diapers, snack bags, and juice boxes as they went. One woman exited from the lavatory struggling to run and pull her pants up.

  Sirens rang out, and a recorded message played over the zoo-wide loudspeaker.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please find your closest exit and leave the zoo immediately. Again, find your closest exit and leave the zoo immediately. We have an emergency and need you to evacuate in an orderly fashion. If anyone needs assistance, please ask any zoo employee.”

  Blue-blazer lady dropped her megaphone, placed her hands to her temples, and started a controlled breathing exercise. I suspected this was Elisabeth Bohring, the Communications Director, who had been quoted in the news. I turned to Angie. “Could you take Daniel with you? I think this woman may need some help managing this crisis, and you know, that’s what I do.”

  Angie placed her left hand on her stroller and her right hand on Daniel’s. “I’ll find a way out of the ruckus. Don’t worry, the kids are safe with me. And, no, Rose, you cannot get out to find the gorilla. Be careful, Jess. I know you are an expert in crisis management, but rampaging gorillas? They’re monsters, those silverbacks.”

  I hugged Angie. “I’ll stay out of the line of fire, promise. Speaking of which, how come you
’re so calm? I’m used to crises, but you’re remarkably serene compared to this mob.” I jigged out of the way of a flapping flock of geese, jump-hopping out of the lake toward the giraffe enclosure, then juked the other way to avoid being hit by a runaway cooler on wheels.

  “I have two sets of twins, Jess. Pandemonium is my normal.”

  “That’s very zen of you.”

  “Plus, I have a prescription for medical marijuana.”

  “You do? Hey, wait. How’d you get that?”

  Angie wiggled her fingers. “Toodle-loo.”

  “We’re going to talk about how I can get one!” I yelled at Angie’s departing back. “Or maybe you’ll share?” She kept walking. “Aw, fuck.”

  I smacked my forehead. “Now I have to do more pushups.”

  Like a salmon swimming upstream, I fought my way through the crowds to get to the zoo employee, who I could now see wore a lanyard with a name tag. “Elisabeth?”

  Elisabeth squinted at me. “Yes? Sorta busy here staying conscious. Passing out is bad for the zoo’s reputation.”

  “I think we’re past that, don’t you? My name’s Jess, and I would like to help. I have some particular experience with crises, particularly monstrous ones?” I raised my eyebrows, drawing out the last words so she would get the hint.

  Elisabeth stared for a moment and then said, “Oh, thank God. I thought no one would believe us. Do you know what that bird was? What it really was?” Her voice rose to such an ear-splitting pitch that the neighboring wild dingoes howled in their enclosure.

  “It was a phoenix.”

  “It was a phoenix. Hey, how did you know?”

  “I killed one the other day.”

  “Same one?”

  I shrugged. “Don’t know. Possibly. Probably. I have no idea how many of them exist.”

  “It was set on fire by a cigarette, you know. That part was true.”

  “They’re flammable. It’s part of the gig.”

  I’d no sooner said that then I realized something horrible. I’d given away my diaper bag. All my weapons were gone, and I doubted that any of the forgotten diaper bags laying on the ground contained a hatchet.

  Chapter Seven

  Elisabeth grabbed my hand and pulled hard. “Come on, let’s go. If you can help, then you need to be at the gorilla house.”

  I shook my hand free but followed. “What’s with the gorillas?”

  “Were-gorilla.”

  I stopped running. “What?”

  She turned to me, circling her hands to tell me to hurry up. “Don’t dawdle!”

  “I’m sorry, but I thought you said were-gorilla?”

  “That’s exactly what I said. Catch up.” She tugged my hand again, and we ran faster. I was impressed with her fitness. I told her so.

  “Pilates and the elliptical. But I think you’re losing focus here. We have a were-gorilla loose. A visiting professor from Uganda, Dr. Alupo, turned into a gorilla the other night and ransacked the place.”

  “What did you do?”

  “We called a cryptozoologist, who told us to contain him and wait for sunrise.”

  “Decent advice. What’s the problem?” I asked.

  “Dr. Alupo didn’t change back.”

  We arrived at the primate exhibit, and Elisabeth gestured for me to go in. “Wait,” I said, holding up a finger. “You’re saying the professor didn’t turn back to a human once morning came?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “What happened to the cryptozoologist?”

  “He drove out here and visited us personally. Dr. Alupo ate him this morning.”

  “What! Gorillas don’t eat humans.”

  “Well, tell that to Dr. Alupo.”

  “Why did you keep the zoo open today after all of this happened?” I asked, grabbing her shoulder and making her look at me.

  “It’s bad for business. We never close the zoo. It’s a point of pride.”

  “Screw your pride! You close the zoo when there’s a were-gorilla on the loose!”

  “I think ‘on the loose’ is a bit of an exaggeration.”

  “I don’t. When people are at risk of getting eaten, I think it is only responsible to keep them away from danger.”

  “We closed the gorilla exhibit,” she said, not looking in my eyes.

  “Yip-e-o-ki-yay! Too little, way too little. Who made this decision?”

  “The executive board.”

  “Are any of the executive board here?” I asked this through clenched teeth.

  Elisabeth shook her head no. “They don’t get involved in the day-to-day operations of the zoo.”

  I switched gears before I killed her. “What happened to the containment area?” I asked. My hands were on my hips now, to hide that they were clenched into fists. I have no problem with monsters. They were born or made that way and were living to their nature. I have a lot of problem with stupid humans.

  She pulled out a talking point for that one. “It held for a bit, but it seems to have experienced a structural failure.”

  I huffed. “You mean, he broke it.”

  She toggled her hand in the air. “Does it really matter what the mechanics were?”

  I believe in karma, which is the only reason I didn’t punch her in the face. Plus, I also knew there was a Higher Power, given my job and all, and I figured I could trust whomever was up there to be making a list.

  I pressed my lips together and then asked my next question through gritted teeth as well, keeping my anger in check. I was very proud of myself. “Who’s back there now?”

  “Not sure, but we got all the people out, and the animals, so you should be fine.” She turned to go.

  “Wait. I must ask one more question. Has he bitten anybody?”

  “No,” Elisabeth said, staring at the painted green gorilla paw prints on the ground. “But he bit a gorilla.”

  I was afraid to ask, but it had to be done. “What happened to the gorilla?”

  “Oh, you’ll see. Interested in your take on it.” She patted me on the shoulder, already moving away. “Thanks for helping. Good luck. Let me know how it all turns out so I can write a fictional press release. Rocko is right inside.”

  “Who’s Rocko?” I called to her as she took off down the hill.

  I studied the double doorway, knowing I had to go in, but certain I didn’t want to. I didn’t even have my baseball bat or hairspray with me. Hairspray hurts when it gets in your eye. Don’t try it at home. Combine it with a cigarette lighter, and you’ll get their attention.

  I pulled the door handle and entered the facility, anticipating the weird and scary, but nothing jumped out at me. The only thing out of order was the little podium where the greeter usually stood. It lay on its side, official zoo pad and pen on the floor next to it. A fish tank decorating the front entrance was cracked, but the fish swam along, unaware that their world might collapse at any moment and they’d be sent gasping onto the cold floor.

  Whatever it was I expected, I sure didn’t expect what I got. I came face-to-chest with a hirsute six-foot naked human male waiting in the main viewing area. This guy’s pecs ballooned from his chest and his legs looked like they belonged on a sumo wrestler. “Uh, hello?” I ventured this with trepidation, not certain this caveman throwback could speak.

  The man beat his chest, his impressive junk jiggling with the movement. It must have felt nice, because he did it again, leaning over his beer-belly to watch his genitals wave in the air.

  “You can stop that now. Tell me what happened. Why are you naked?”

  The man bared his teeth, turned, and showed me his hairy butt.

  “That’s disgusting and totally unnecessary. Do you speak English?”

  The man turned around, his face long and sad. He rubbed his face with his hands and swayed back and forth on his feet, not speaking. He ran his hands over his body and held out his arms.

  He was trying to communicate with me, but either he didn’t or couldn’t speak. “Rocko?” I ask
ed.

  His face lit up with joy, and he bounced up and down with pleasure that I’d guessed his name. “Okay, big guy, let’s go inside and see what we can see.” I passed Rocko, who let out a grunt-grunt sound and grabbed my ass.

  “No! That is not okay. Bad touch.”

  The entire primate enclosure was trashed. The glass fronts of the cages were either destroyed or cracked. The other inhabitants—the chimps, the macaques, and the baboons—must have been evacuated through the back doors, which were all open. Or, at least I hoped so, because otherwise we needed to wrassle up a barrel of monkeys.

  The viewing area was no better. Tables turned upside down, chairs broken, even the snack bar was ransacked. The largest cage was decimated, and I toed through the remains until I found a metal plate. I picked it up by a corner.

  Rocko, Mountain Gorilla, Care and feeding provide by Friends of the Zoo.

  “So, you were bitten by a were-gorilla and turned into a human? That’s one for the books. I had no idea that could happen.” Rocko moved closer to me, letting out a quiet hoo-hoo’ing sound.

  “Hey! Personal space. Back up.”

  Instead, Rocko moved closer and pawed at my hair. “I don’t need grooming. Wait! What was that you just ate? I don’t have bugs. Oh no, do I have lice? Oh, God, no lice, please. I can’t take it again. The nit combs, the shampoos, the multiple rounds of treatment, and taking off work because they aren’t allowed back to school when everyone knows the Smiths send their kids anyway, even when they’re scratching.” My voice escalated in pitch as I screeched the last, the tendons on my neck taught and visible.