This Monkey's Gone to Heaven

Chapter 8, This Monkey's Gone to Heaven

Chapter Eight



It took days for me to recover. Nicole was so concerned that she kept insisting I check myself into a hospital to have me monitored. She kept blaming herself. She said it was a bad time to admit what she did. I couldn't remember a thing. But I didn't tell her that. She seemed to like me again. She even starting acting a little bit submissive, just enough to show that there was some respect for me.
Jump forward four days and we're pulling into my hometown in Minnesota. They were a teenage couple that gave us the last ride. We rode in their car for one excruciatingly long day. He was skinny and she was fat with a hacked haircut, shorn I think is the word. Looking back on it, I guess you could say they were the exact opposites of me and Nicole, since I was fat and she was thin. The teenage couple, they lived in a trailer park just outside of my hometown. They were coming back from some wedding in western Minnesota. They had an infant in a car seat between them up in the front seat. I kept thinking, God, if we got into an accident that kid was a goner, not necessarily a bad thing given this kid's future with the two ill-conceived teenagers. The baby looked filthy. His face was all blackened, like he'd been delivered in a coal pit or something. I was curious until the fat teenage mom rolled down the window and lit up a cigarette. The draft from the open window blew ash from the cigarette directly onto the baby's face. When the mom brushed it away, it smeared, giving the baby its ashen hue.
The skinny teenage dad, it seemed, was simply bent on talking non-stop. He told countless stories, joined by meaningless non-sequiturs, all of it boring. One moment he grew quiet. He turned his baseball cap around and eyed us expectantly in the rearview mirror. On the front of his cap was a depiction of a couple caught in the act as seen horizontally from the cartoonish feet. The caption read, And you wonder what I do with all my spare time.
He pulled into a rest area and she changed the baby's diaper. Before tearing out of the parking lot, he whipped his head around to see if the coast was clear. He said to his girlfriend in a serious tone, "Give me them there diapers..." He took the dirty diapers, glanced around one last time, then cracked open the door, letting the diapers fall out onto the pavement as oblong padded droppings. As he sped away, the accelerator pegged to the floor, tires burning rubber, he looked at us in the rearview mirror with the most self-satisfied expression that it gave me pause to consider our Creator in whose image this little homeboy got fashioned. Maybe they shared similar qualities. Worse still was thinking that maybe we evolved and God didn’t for some reason. Seeing the world the way it was, all messed up and full of hurt, it made sense to me. Maybe He was just an uneducated, armpit-scratching, hairy prick stuck in a period of evolution. Coming home from the welfare office to an eviction notice. Throwing empties from the porch of his broken trailer, screaming, jumping up and down, cursing with his long arms, forever confused and irritated, the Pearly Gates nothing but sagging chain link and the angels mangy boot-thumped dogs who have fallen into the playful habit of chasing God around the yard as though He were an ordinary little monkey dressed in red vest, the mini fez tilted ever so rakishly.
On the outskirts of town the teenage parents had to stop at a farm to show off their smudge-faced baby to some friends, a retired, retarded pair who were just thrilled as they burst out into the yard with their arms spread wide. Nicole and I stayed behind in the car. She said, "America's weird."
I was ready for a change of pace, something normal and everyday, and at first it came in the form of my dog Moonshine. I'd forgotten all about him. The teenage parents dropped us off at the curb in front of my parent's house. The skinny dad said, "Good luck with the movie," and then tore away, his tires screeching, the rear-end fishtailing as in the movies. Moonshine started barking in the backyard and I dropped my duffel and ran to him just like in Lassie. He was up on his hind legs with his front paws over the top of the gate, his big head looking down at me as I ran up the driveway. I ran through the gate and he leaped up and threw his paws around my shoulders, kissing my face as we danced around in circles hugging each other in the backyard.
I let Moonshine out through the gate and he ran right down to Nicole who was in the front yard sitting on the steps that went up to my parent's house. He ran around her, all excited, and tore around the front yard, the happiest I'd ever seen him. He was a real clown and Nicole and I started laughing. The front door to my parent's house opened and there was my mom. I couldn't believe it. She looked great. She was smiling warmly. She came out, gave me a kiss and a hug, and introduced herself to Nicole. She was acting friendly and normal. I couldn't believe the weight she'd lost. It was simply amazing. I'd only been gone two or three weeks, but she must have lost twenty or thirty pounds. Plus, she was sober. She was acting normal, just your average everyday mom. I'd been worried about how she was going to act in front of Nicole, but this was great. I just hoped it would last.
We went inside and Mom said cheerfully that she wanted to make us dinner. The house was clean and it even smelled good. I wondered where Dad was. I didn't want to say anything for fear of disrupting this mood, so I went downstairs to check his office. It was cleaned out. All his paperwork, all his clutter, all his collectibles, all his swords, his projector and the reels of porn from the past. I wondered where he was. Not still at the Chicken Coop I'm sure as he couldn't stand living with creepy-crawlies. He had this phobia. But wherever he was I hoped he was as happy as Mom appeared to be. I could hear Mom and Nicole talking through the floor. Suddenly, I felt sleepy. It was the lulling murmur of the sounds of their voices coming through the floor. I laid down on the carpet and soon fell asleep.
When I woke up it was dark and I heard the sound of a man's voice. I knew right away that it wasn't my dad. I went upstairs and walked into the living room.
My mom said, "We didn't want to wake you. You were sleeping so hard." She got up, saying, "I'll go heat up your plate in the microwave."
The guy, a man in his early sixties I guessed, stood up from his chair smiling. He approached me, reaching out with his hand. "You must be Emmett. Nice to meet you, my name's Roger."
He seemed so good-natured, so easy-going and friendly, I thought at first maybe that it was some kind of act. I looked at Nicole to study her face. It was obvious that she was already fond of him. Even Moonshine. He followed Roger around like the guy kept cookies in his pocket. After a while I started getting jealous. Where was my dad and who in the hell was this trying to take his place? Was this a date? Jesus, he didn't already move in, did he? I felt insecure and out-of-sorts, like I was only fourteen years old.
I said, "Nicole, can I talk to you outside for a moment, please?" and I excused us from Roger's company.
We stepped out and I led her down the steps to the sidewalk.
"Who in the hell is that guy?" I asked her.
"I guezz it's your mom's boyfriend. Why you zo mad? ‘e zeems like a nize guy."
"Have they said where my dad's at?"
"No."
"Shit."
"What?"
"I don't know. I'm worried about him."
"About your dad? Can't ‘e take care of ‘imzelf?"
"Not really."
"Oh, because ‘e'z in a wheelchair, you mean?"
I paused.
"Yeah."
"Well, what zhould we do?"
"I don't know. Maybe we could borrow one of my brother's cars. We could drive out to the Chicken Coop to see if he's still there."
She smiled. "Oh, that zounds like fun. Yeah, let's do that."
"Let me get something to eat first, then we'll go."
We started walking back towards the house.
"Oh," she remembered. "And you're zupposed to call ‘owser. ‘e called while you were zleeping."
"Oh, yeah? What did he have to say?"
"’e just wants to zee what's up." She was smiling.
"How long did you guys talk?"
"Yeah, we talked for a long time actually. ‘e zeems like a real nize guy."
"What did you guys talk about?"
"All kinds of ztuff."
"Well, like what?"
She stopped and turned to look at me. She squinted her eyes and studied me, smiling. "Are you jealouz?"
"Shouldn't I be?"
"No."
"I don't trust Howser," I said.
"Why not?"
"He likes women too much."
"Oh, come on..."
"He does. He's my best friend, but I don't trust him."
"You are being zilly."
"No, I'm not." I selfishly added, "You know he's a photographer for a porno magazine, right?"
Nicole suddenly got very upset. "Is that a barb at me?"
"What the hell are talking about? I said he was. What does that have to do with you?"
"God, you're an idiot zometimes." And she walked away.
"What the hell's going on here? Nicole?"
I followed her back inside. Mom had my dinner ready on a tray. "Hurry up," she said. "It's getting cold."
As I ate my meatloaf and mashed potatoes, I listened to Roger with great suspicion. He just seemed too perfect to be real. During a lull in conversation, I asked my mom, "So, how's Dorothy these days?"
Nervously, she got up and said, "Who wants some cake?"
Roger looked at me and smiled warmly. "That Dorothy's something else, isn't she? But she means well. She does that."
I was thinking, how in the hell do you know? But all I could say was, "Roger, tell me. Do you believe in Satan?" in such an odd way I saw Nicole cringe.
He looked at me and smiled warmly. "I can honestly say that’s one of the strangest questions someone has asked me. Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering." There had to be a crack in his armor somewhere. I was feeling very aggressive and mean. I decided to tell him about my movie to get a reaction.
After I was done, my mom shrieked, "You wrote that? That's disgusting."
Roger smiled and said, "Sounds Lynchian."
"Lynchian? You mean David Lynch?"
"Yes, I do. Reminds me of Eraserhead in its ambiguity."
"How do you know who David Lynch is?" I wondered.
"I used to teach at the junior college," he said. "Drama."
My mom said, "It's disgusting. I'm sorry you had to hear that, Roger. I didn't know my son was such a pervert. I mean, good Lord. How could you come up with something like that? And the way we raised you. We didn't raise you to be a pervert. I mean, what's with the cow bone? That's just disgusting."
"No, I think it sounds very interesting," Roger said. "Shows real imagination. You got a copy? I'd love to read it. That is, if you wouldn't mind an old fart like me giving his two cents."
"Fuck, what do I care."
My mom got up and stomped away into the kitchen. She said, "Emmett, may I have a word with you, please?"
As I got up and went into the kitchen, Roger tried saying something in French, but Nicole said, matter of fact, that she couldn't understand him.
In the kitchen Mom said, "What's wrong with you? He's the nicest guy I've ever known and you're just trying to ruin it for me." Tears started forming in her eyes. Her lip started trembling. I felt horrible. I gave her a hug.
"I'm sorry, Ma. It's just that...Well, where's Dad? Is he still living at the Chicken Coop?"
"And you didn't even say anything about all the weight I lost? Didn't you even notice?"
"Come on, Ma. You look great. I noticed right away. No, you look great. And this guy, Roger, he seems real nice. But, what's going on? Are you and Dad really getting a divorce?"
"I can't believe you sometimes. You're acting like a spoiled brat."
"Ma, I said I'm sorry."
"I'm trying the best I can."
"Well, where's Dad at? Don't you want to tell me?"
She wiped her tears and went to the phone on the counter. There was a pad with a phone number on it. She ripped it away and handed it to me.
"What's this?"
"It's where you can reach your father. Now, be nice. I mean it."
"You mean with Roger?"
"Yes, with Roger. He's the sweetest man. Give him a chance.”
I went downstairs and called the number from the phone in my dad's abandoned office.
"Hello?" It sounded like a teenager's voice. I could barely hear the guy. A party was raging in the background.
"Yes, is Maurice Monk there, please?"
"Who?!"
"Maurice Monk!"
"Who's Maurice Monk?!"
"He's my dad!"
The kid hung up on me. I called back.
"Hello?" It was the same kid and he was giggling.
"The guy in the wheelchair! I need to talk to the guy in the wheelchair!"
"Oh, that guy! Yeah, hold on!"
People were hollering and laughing in the background. The choice of music was hip-hop. I wondered what my dad was doing there. Did he hook up with a woman with younger kids? Was he chaperoning?
The kid came back and shouted, "He's indisposed!"
"What? What do you mean he's indisposed?! Just get him! Tell him it's his son, Emmett!"
The kid giggled. "I'm telling you he's indisposed! He had too much to drink! He's passed out on the floor! He threw up all over the place! He's a real mess, I'm telling you!"
I found out what the address was. It was in Cucumber. The kid said that if I was coming to pick up my dad, could I bring a couple of cases of Bud, too.
I ran upstairs and grabbed Nicole by the hand and ran outside, pulling her behind me down the sidewalk. I was going to my brother's to borrow one of his cars.
Nicole didn't understand, half-stumbling behind me. "What'z wrong? Why are you acting like thiz? Ztop, Emmett! Ztop and tell me!"
I turned around and said, "I'll tell you in the car." Then I noticed Roger's car parked in my mom's driveway. I gave it some thought.
I went back and told Roger I needed his car. I'd bring it back either later tonight or tomorrow.
My mom didn't approve. "No, you are not taking Roger's car. I can't believe you're asking. After the way you've been treating him? No way, mister!"
"Oh, screw you and Roger!" I shouted.
My mom raised her hand to slap me. Roger intervened, smiling.
"No, of course, Emmett. Of course, you can use my car. Take it for a day or two. No worries, Emmett. I understand. Just promise me you'll do one thing." He stared at me, looking very serious.
"What?" I was irritated. I couldn't stand thinking of my dad passed out on the floor in front of all those rowdy kids. Who knows what they'd do to him?
Roger paused for effect.
He raised his eyebrows for emphasis, then said with a pointed finger, "You promise you wear your seatbelts."
I grabbed Nicole by the hand and started running out the door.
My mom ran after us, shouting, "Where are you going?"
Like a goober, Roger cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed, "If I catch you driving around without any seatbelts, you're gonna hear it from me, young man." He laughed. "The keys are in the ignition, kids. Now, go on, go have some fun."
I drove out onto the interstate and barreled through the night. Nicole, naturally, fell asleep. My mind was racing. What was my dad thinking? I had to calm down. I went through Nicole’s little belt pouch and found the pain pills. I took a couple. I felt nothing. I took a few more. I really calmed down after that. I started noticing things. For instance, I looked up and saw Tweety Bird, a stuffed toy version hanging from the rearview mirror. I didn't remember seeing that there. Did Nicole put it there? Was it some kind of joke? Maybe she was making fun of me. Maybe she lost respect for me after meeting my mom and seeing what a crude family I come from. Shit, she still didn't know about Beth Ann and my kids. That wouldn't go over well. I don't think I'd told her yet. Well, maybe my mom told her. While I was sleeping down in the basement. Suddenly, it occurred to me. I understood now. See, my mom must've told her and this was her way of repaying me, for having to hear it from my mom and not straight from the horse's mouth. From her point of view I could understand. We were in love, we spent more than ten days together, and look what we'd already been through. And I couldn't admit to her that I was still married and that I had two little kids? For retribution she decides to freak me out with Tweety Bird while pretending she’s asleep. I had to calm down. My mind was racing. I took a couple pain pills. Two usually worked wonders for me. But no sooner did I swallow the pills...I recalled that I'd already taken some. I mean, I think more than a few. In my mind I saw myself slapping handful after handful, popping pill after pill into my gargantuan mouth. I looked at the bottle of pills to see how many were left. There were four pills left. That was a relief possibly. I didn't take the whole bottle. I started studying Tweety Bird. Suddenly, it dawned on me. That bitch! and I slammed on the brake. A car behind me had to swerve real hard to avoid running into me and the driver started honking! What the hell’s his problem, I wondered. We were on the shoulder of the interstate, stopped. Well, not completely. I guess we were still coasting a little. But I couldn't keep my eyes off this little trader who I thought was my girlfriend, Nicole, the little French faker pretending she was asleep. My mom must've told her about Beth Ann and Beth Ann's new betrothed. I could hear her and my mom both laughing about it. Yeah, real funny. If you study Tweety Bird closely you can see it. The large head, the small torso, the little arms and legs. Tweety Bird is the animated rendition of a human dwarf. I was furious. I wanted to choke Nicole. I saw my hands reaching out.
Cut to:
Peace. Utter tranquility. I was wrapped in dark velvet. I've never felt more secure and more at peace in all my life. I heard voices, I felt myself rising up to the voices. There were flashes of bright light. The closer I got to the noise and bright light, the more I wanted to go back to the nice velvety place from which I rose. I sunk back down to it, to feel the peace wrap itself around me. I was in Heaven. It was dark, pitch-black in fact, but it felt like heaven. I was in a place I never wanted to leave. I could live there, forever and ever. And these rude people with their loud voices and bright lights were trying to draw me away from it. I started rising up again, towards the lights and the loud voices, all against my will.
"Emmett, come on, Emmett! Emmett! Come on, buddy."
"He's coming to."
I opened my eyes. I was lying on my back. There were doctors and nurses hovering over me. I was totally confused. I heard a woman weeping in the background.
"What's going on? Where am I?"
"Just try to relax. You're at County Memorial," said one of the nurses.
"Dad? Is my dad here? Is he alright?" (I didn't actually say that if you want to know the truth. But I want you to think I'm nice. Maybe on account of my concussion I'd forgotten all about him.)
"Your girlfriend brought you in."
I lifted my head and saw Nicole weeping. She wouldn't even look at me.
Eventually I learned what happened when the cops came to my hospital room. Apparently, I had tried to kill her. I had my hands around Nicole’s throat, choking her. A Good Samaritan, an amateur wrestler on his way to a match with some time to spare, thinking we were in need of some roadside assistance, pulled over to see if he could give us a hand. He saw me choking Nicole. He threw open the door, jerked me out of the car, and hurled me onto the pavement. To this day I can still feel his overbearing authority in my bones. He pulled some wrestling maneuvers on me, the body slams and the hammerheads... He broke five of my ribs jumping on me, and while pounding my head into the side of the car, he caused such a gash that it required thirty some stitches and gave me such a concussion the ring of the match bell to this day still sends me reeling. I was unconscious for quite a while. They thought it might lead to a coma.
After hearing the story, the fact that I had actually tried to kill her--there were even bruises on her neck--made me feel so ashamed of myself I just wished the wrestler had had it in him to finish me off. Just a few more butts to the car door with my head, Bruno, and that would have been all she wrote. But no, it was not to be. It was just my lame luck to have a big softy wailing on me that night. Still, on the plus side, it was the moment that would change my life for the next few days. I decided then and there I would stop abusing myself. No more pills, no more cough syrup, no more nothing. I looked at Nicole. That poor girl, I thought. I felt so sorry for her that I started weeping like I'd lost my mind. All she had to go through her whole life and look what loser she’d ended up with. I hoped some kind doctor there at County Memorial would take her away, marry her, and give her the nice life that she deserved. A house in the suburbs, spoiled children, luxury cars, and a maid to boot. To atone for my sins, she’d make me live with her and her new husband, sentenced to ten years, living on a cot in the furnace room. When they made love, I'd have to watch them from a footstool at the foot of the bed. I'd be the indentured servant, fixing them snacks, doing laundry, walking the dog, acting as a clown for the kids, waxing the M.D.'s Merc, polishing his golf clubs before each round (that I'd have to caddy for) fixing his drinks on the veranda, serving as the butt of all his crony's jokes, and, in the end, as a sex slave for the more twisted ones, Albert and Rhea, their whips and chains and contraptions in the basement are just a few things in my life I'd want to forget. But it was there in their basement, in the torture chamber, that Nicole and I would reconnect. She grew worried about me. One night, you see, I would not return. She would go down to the furnace room and see that my cot was empty. Where was I? she wondered. She’d grow wistful, remembering how we met, the days we spent hitchhiking. Was I really so bad, she wondered. She’d sneak out of the house and drive to Albert and Rhea's and rescue me from their torture parlor on a stormy night. She’d fall back in love with me. She’d leave the doctor and I’d help raise her children. I’d become a famous novelist and movie director. We’d live in mansions. We’d fly private jets. She’d never leave me again. When I died, she died two days later, and we were buried in a custom casket, side-by-side holding each other's hands, heads tilted toward one another, to be with each other for eternity. That's how selfish I was. I was disgusted. Why was I always writing myself in the best parts? Why on earth couldn't she be with the doctor for eternity?
Nicole didn't press charges against me for trying to choke her to death. It was a sign of something. I was going to say it was a sign of love, but somehow I knew it was a sign of desperation. She didn't have any money; she had no place to go. She was hedging her bets. I was a nice-enough guy. If I stayed away from the pills, she reasoned, I'd probably never try to kill her again.