Mikey in the Monkey House

by Wilfried G. Lippmann

"Kyle, take care of Mikey, will you?" my mom said and pushed the zoo baby stroller into my hand. "I want to look around in the gift shop."

Fun's over, thanks to Mikey, I thought to myself. I finally got to the zoo with my best friend, Bradley, and she makes me baby-sit my one-year old brother!

We'd just come from the "Dig The Dinosaur" display. That was awesome. They had a life-size T-Rex there, as big as three elephants. His head and eyes moved and he roared like in the movie.

"Go on over to the monkey cage," she said. "I'll join you in a minute." Sure. Mom never shops for just a minute. I should've listened to Bradley when Mikey screamed his head off at the sight of T-Rex. "We can put Mikey in his jaws, right across the teeth," he had said, grinning at his own gross joke. But now this!

"Speckled Langurs, South-East Asia," Bradley read from the sign.

"Spec-ta-cled Langurs, dummy," I laughed. I can spell better and he is already ten. "it looks like they have glasses on. Spectacles -- get it?"

"So why don't they call them Langurs with glasses, uhuh, uhuh?" he grunted.

"All eight are just sitting there on that jungle-gym tree, munching carrots," I said disappointed. Their long gray tails hung straight down like rubber hoses.

"They can grab things with their tails like hands," Bradley told me. "if they catch you they wind the tail around your neck and pull you around."

"Liar," I said. "They are too small." The largest monkey wasn't much bigger than Mikey.

"Honest," said Bradley.

We tried to stir the monkeys into action. First, we whistled. Then we called "ooh-ooh-ooh" like apes and pounded our chests.

But they only glared at us from dark eyes under bushy eyebrows and in white circles. Maybe to them we were in a cage and they wanted us to play football or something

"Their short beards make even the smaller monkeys look old," I said.

"My grandpa looks like that," said Bradley. "He's got skinny arms too and bushy messed-up hair."

"Come on, do something," I called to the monkeys.

"They'll start moving around as soon as their lunch is over," said the fat man next to me.

"That one's starting now." A tall, skinny woman pointed to the tree.

A small monkey sneaked up behind another and reached for his carrot. "Kh-kh" came from his throat like a cough. "Gimme that," he seemed to say. But the other one just turned away and stuck his tail way up in the air, like he'd say, "Buzz off."

Suddenly the monkeys jumped into a frenzy ail at once. They cackled with a loud "chak-chak" and "chahau-chahau". In a flash they were up in the highest branches. Some flashed their pointed teeth. The carrots fell to the ground but they didn't care.

"Cool," said Bradley.

"The kid!" cried the fat man and pointed to the ground. "The kid's crawling in!"

'Mikey!" I nearly choked. He'd climbed out of the stroller and scooted right into the monkey cage through a small opening.

"Gee, Mikey's going in, gee," cried Bradley.

I jumped the railing and reached for Mikey through the hole. But he scrambled quickly away.

"Mikey! I'm not playing catch," I yelled. "Come back here." But he giggled and headed straight for the monkey tree.

I froze. What would the monkeys do to him? What if they wrapped their tails around him and swung him around like a toy?

"Their teeth are as sharp as razors," said the fat man.

"He's gonna be ripped to shreds," said another man in a blue fishing hat, nodding as though he was an expert.

"If they are not threatened," said a little lady with a walking stick, "they'll leave him alone. They may even adopt him. I've read about the kid that was raised by monkeys."

Bradley leaned close to me. "She's talking about Tarzan," he whispered.

I was looking for help and all they could talk about was sharp teeth and Mikey turning into a monkey. And Mom was going to come back any minute.

I had to do something. I laid flat on the ground and inched my way into the hole in the cage. But I couldn't get my shoulders through.

I looked up. Mikey was almost at the tree, laughing and reaching for them. Oh, no. The slender gray beasts started down, surefooted and smooth as silk. Mikey was in deep trouble.

One Langur was already down at the far end. He pulled his lips back to show his teeth. "Chak," he said.

I could hear my heart thump. All I wanted was to get out of there. With my head in like that they could rip my ears off and I was helpless on the ground.

"Here, try my stick," said the old lady.

I stretched it far out to Mikey. "Grab the stick," I called in a low voice. I didn't want to scream. The monkeys could panic and attack all at once.

But Mikey crawled on and jabbered his baby language. The Langur stalked wearily in a big circle with his eyes glued on Mikey. His legs and arms seemed to be loaded with springs. He could jump on Mikey's head in no time. He had his tail up and flicked the end, ready to strike, I thought. His long black fingers looked ugly and dangerous. Those were strong hands,

I figured. If they could swing from branch to branch one-handed they could easily grab Mikey's arm and do who knows what with it.

If I couldn't get in quickly, Mikey would be attacked at any moment. The other monkeys were closing in, too.

I turned around. There were a lot of people watching now. Bradley just stood there with his eyes wide like UFOs.

'Bradley, come on, pull the wire apart so I can get through," I yelled back. I felt my heart pumping like mad. I couldn't leave Mikey to his fate. He was my brother. This was all a game to him.

"Bradley," I yelled again. I was still on the ground with my nose in the dirt.

Finally he got the message. I pushed hard and he pulled on the cage.

I was in. There I was facing eight monkeys who had surrounded my brother. I was scared to death.

"Run, kid,' said a man with a Sox Baseball cap. "Think of running down a grounder into center field. Snatch it up and come on home."

The langurs moved slowly around Mikey on their stick-like arms and legs. They walked, they sat down, they walked again. The tails twitched and swung this way and that. It was creepy. They were planning something. I'd be screaming for help if I were Mikey. But he only giggled and slobbered and reached. He was my brave little brother.

My own feet felt like they were stuck in wet cement. In the corner of my eye I saw Bradley stiff as a statue, holding his breath, He was outside the cage, just as scared as I was.

The tall skinny woman piped up, "If they touch you you could get a terrible disease, I mean, they are jungle animals."

Great, I thought. If we don't get ripped to shreds we'll die of a disease. I had to get Mikey out of there and fast. Mom would be here soon, I was sure.

I made myself small and crept slowly toward Mikey. Maybe they'd think I was a monkey, too.

"That's it kid, slow and easy. If you make them nervous they're bound to jump you." The fat man who saw the whole thing start was bent like I was, matching my every move.

The Langurs closed in on Mikey. They stalked up from behind and touched his back. Then they scurried away. That's what I once saw chimps do to a plastic Coke bottle on TV. But hey, Mikey wasn't a plastic bottle.

I touched something hard under my hand -- a carrot. I flipped it over their heads to the far side. But they paid no attention.

"Mikey," I whispered. "Stay cool. I'm coming to get you out of here."

When Mikey saw me he raced away on his hands and knees like I was playing chase again. Oh my, he was getting farther away and the monkeys were touching his head now.

I decided to go for broke. Come on, Kyle, I told myself, this is your brother. If I died I'd die trying to save Mikey. That's what heroes do. But I didn't feel like a hero.

I jumped up. I yelled like a soldier on the attack and I ran. The monkeys swung swiftly into the tree, barking their "chak-chak" danger signal.

I snatched Mikey with both arms and high-tailed it back to the fence. Mikey was heavy but I was afraid that the whole horde of monkeys would chase me and bring me down before I could reach the hole.

I shoved Mikey through the hole and dived after him.

Phew! That was close.

'Wow, man," said Bradley. "You got him."

I put Mikey into the stroller. I was glad to have him back. I still can't believe how he just sat in the middle of the beasts playing with them.

"Good show," said the Sox-man.

"Wash your hands well," advised the disease-woman.

"You should have taken my stick in with you," said the stick-man.

Bradley and I bent the wire back to close the hole. Just in time.

"Well, how are the monkeys?" Mom asked cheerfully.

"OK," I said, looking away.

"It was awesome," said Bradley. "You should've..."

"Yeah," I said quickly. I knew he was going to spill the whole story. "Mikey had a great time. He wanted to get in with the monkeys but I watched him, Mom." Then I boxed Bradley hard in the arm.

"Thanks for watching him," she said.

"Sure. He's my little brother, isn't he?"

Later in the car, I couldn't sit still. "Mom? I gotta tell you the truth," I said and took a deep breath. "Mikey crawled into the monkey cage through a hole in the wire and I just got him out of there in time."

"The monkeys could've torn them both into strips of meat," added Bradley.

"You two are the greatest fibbers I have ever seen," laughed Mom. "Mikey in the monkey cage, sure."

"Ask Mikey, he'll tell you."

Then Bradley and I dug into the monkey book we bought in the gift shop.

"Langurs travel in groups of up to twenty," I read. "Their tails are not used to grip a branch like a hand (not prehensile), but they are used for balance when swinging through the trees."

"But some monkeys do," protested Bradley.

"Other species, not Langurs. And even they don't curl them around your neck and swing you like a toy." I laughed now, but in the cage I believed what Bradley had said.

"There's one dominant male," I went on. "Youngsters are cared for by all adults. Their sharp teeth (32 like yours) are used to tear and chew fruit and vegetation. They are not meat eaters, but the dominant male defends his troupe to the death."

I looked at Bradley. His eyes were far away. Maybe he was seeing some gory picture in his mind.

There was probably nothing to fear but I was glad to be out of that cage. I couldn't shake the goosebumps I felt when I raced back to the hole with Mikey in my arms.

Mikey, I thought, was the bravest brother anyone can have. I even forgave him for crying at the dinosaurs.

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