Yes, I Know the Monkey Man

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Yes, I Know the Monkey Man Page 7

by Dori Hillestad Butler


  “She calls Bob’s mother ‘Mom,’” Sam explained. “Bob’s mother is the one having everyone over tomorrow. Not Grandma Sperling.”

  Oh.

  “I know, it’s weird,” Sam said, rolling her eyes.

  Suzanne frowned at Sam. “It shows I think of her as family,” she said tightly. “I wish you thought of her that way, too.”

  Sam slumped back against her chair. “Do we have to go through this again? I keep telling you, it’s not like I have anything against her. Or any of them. Why do you have to take it as a personal insult if I don’t want to call Bob’s mother ‘Grandma’? It doesn’t mean I don’t like her or that I don’t want you to marry Bob. It just means she’s not my grandma.”

  I was with Sam. Family wasn’t something you could simply turn on when someone else wanted you to. It was something you had to feel.

  “Okay, okay.” Suzanne held up her hands. “Forget I said anything.” She turned to me. “How many dresses did you bring, T.J.?”

  “Uh …” Dresses?

  “Did you bring a separate one for the rehearsal dinner, or were you planning on wearing the same one you’re wearing to the wedding?”

  I had no idea what a rehearsal dinner was. “I didn’t bring any dresses,” I said.

  “None?” Suzanne looked like she was about to have a heart attack.

  “No,” I said slowly. “I … don’t have any.”

  “You don’t have any dresses?” Sam cried. Man, you’d think I’d said I didn’t have any clothes.

  “No.” Where did I go that I needed to wear a dress? Nowhere.

  “Wow,” Sam said, reaching for her drink. “Well, I could unpack some of mine and you can borrow whichever ones you want.”

  She could unpack some of hers?

  “No, absolutely not.” Suzanne shook her head. “If T.J. doesn’t have any dresses of her own, she’s not going to wear one of yours, Sam.”

  Whew! Thank you, Suzanne.

  “We’ll just have to take you shopping,” Suzanne added. “Tomorrow.”

  “That’s okay,” I said quickly. “I brought my black pants and white dress shirt. They’re pretty nice.” I really didn’t want Suzanne spending lots of money on me. Especially on a dress.

  But Suzanne just shook her head. “We’re taking you shopping, T.J., and that’s final.”

  Great. The only thing I could think of that was worse than shopping was shopping for a dress.

  When we got back to their house, we could hear Sherlock barking before we ever went inside.

  “What’s the matter with your dog?” Sam asked as Suzanne unlocked the door.

  “I don’t know,” I said. It didn’t sound like his I’m-so-happy-you’re-home bark; it sounded like something was wrong.

  Suzanne pushed open the door and we all crowded inside. Suzanne groaned. There were overturned boxes with coats, boots, shoes, gloves, umbrellas, books, and magazines spilled all over the living room. A small lamp on the table next to the couch had been knocked over. Shards of glass littered the table and the carpet below. And Sherlock was up on his hind legs, barking at their cat, who was sprawled out across the top of a pile of boxes, meowing and batting at my dog.

  “Stop it!” Suzanne clapped her hands together and both animals looked at her. “Stop it right now!”

  “Hey! Don’t yell at my dog!” I cried. This couldn’t have been all his fault.

  “I’m yelling at both of them,” Suzanne said. “They’re probably both to blame.”

  Oh. There wasn’t much I could say to that, given the mess and all. So I slunk past Suzanne and picked up my Sherlock. The stupid cat glared at me, then leaped to the floor and padded away.

  Suzanne just stood there with her hand to her head, staring at the mess. I felt a little bad about the broken lamp, but there wasn’t much anyone could do about it.

  “I’ll go get the garbage can,” Sam said as she started for the kitchen.

  “I’ll help you,” I said, scurrying after her. I didn’t want to be stuck here alone with Suzanne. But when we got to the kitchen, we found the garbage can knocked over and most of its contents strewn all over the floor, too. Sam didn’t say anything; she just started picking it all up. I set my dog down and helped her.

  “Hey, what’s that phone number on your hand?” Sam asked.

  I quickly closed my fingers over the number so she couldn’t see it.

  “Is that your boyfriend’s number?” She grinned.

  Boyfriend? “No, it’s …” The best lies always had an element of truth to them. “It’s the number for the hospital. Um, the hospital where I volunteer.”

  “You volunteer at a hospital?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. Maybe I would see about volunteering there sometime.

  “Cool.”

  Once we got everything back in the garbage can, we went back to the living room. Sam helped her mom pick up the broken lamp pieces. I didn’t really know what to do, so I just started putting random things into random boxes. My dog plopped down on the floor, rested his head on his paws, and watched us all.

  Again, nobody was saying anything. We were probably all wishing my dog and I had never come.

  “Maybe I should take Sherlock for a walk,” I said, eager to get out of there for a while.

  Sherlock’s ears twitched when he heard the word WALK, but he didn’t raise his head.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Suzanne said.

  “I’ll go with you if you want,” Sam offered.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I can maybe call Joe while I’m gone. You know, to let him know I got here okay.” Hadn’t Suzanne suggested I do that? “Can I borrow someone’s cell phone?”

  “Sure,” Sam said. She reached for her purse, pulled out that pink butterfly phone, and handed it to me.

  “Thanks,” I said, sliding it into my front pocket.

  “Don’t be gone too long,” Suzanne said. “It’s starting to get dark.”

  “Okay,” I said, but I wasn’t afraid of the dark. I attached Sherlock’s leash to his collar and led him out the door. I could feel the tension draining from my shoulders as soon as the door closed behind me. I needed this walk as bad as my dog.

  “Where should we go, boy?” I asked as we strolled down the driveway. The porch light clicked on behind me.

  I didn’t know this town at all, so I had no idea where to go. But it wasn’t like we could actually get lost in a town this size. I pointed Sherlock in the direction that seemed to lead toward the main part of town. Once we got about three blocks away from Suzanne and Sam’s house, I pulled out Sam’s phone and dialed the number I’d written on my hand.

  The phone rang five times before anyone picked up. But whoever picked up never said hello.

  “Hello?” I said. “Joe?”

  “T.J.? Is that you?” He sounded tired. Or drugged up.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” I said, smiling. I was so happy to hear his voice. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay.” He sounded happy to hear my voice, too. “How are you? Are you in Iowa?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Okay. I don’t think they like Sherlock very much, though. We went out to eat and when we got back to their house he had knocked over some boxes and a lamp. The lamp got broken.”

  “You took Sherlock down there with you?”

  “Yeah. What else was I supposed to do with him?”

  He paused. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think about that.” There was another pause. “What do you think of your mom and Sam?” Joe asked.

  “I don’t know.” I didn’t want to talk about them. “How are you doing? Really? Are you getting better?”

  “I think so. I’m awfully sore, though.”

  “Will you be out of the hospital when I get back?”

  “I hope so.”

  I hoped so, too. I knew he wouldn’t be back to normal in a week, but as long as he was home, that was the important thing. If he was home, no
one could take me away from him.

  I wasn’t ready to go back to Suzanne’s house yet when Joe and I hung up, so Sherlock and I just kept walking. We came to a small downtown area. All the stores were lit up, but nothing was open and no one was out and about. We walked past the downtown area and into another residential neighborhood. This neighborhood was more like Gram’s neighborhood. The houses were old and small. I glanced to the right as Sherlock and I crossed a street. I could see a park in the next block, so I steered Sherlock down that way.

  It was completely dark out now. And much darker on this street than it was downtown. I didn’t mind, though. I liked walking around in the dark. Especially in this town. It made me feel invisible. Which was the opposite of how I felt when I was with Sam and Suzanne.

  I crossed over to the park and saw a sad-looking swing set with no swings, a crooked merry-go-round, and way at the far edge of the park was a rocket ship slide. None of the parks near us had those. I played on one when I was little, though. I remember climbing all the way to the top and Joe coaxing me down. I never wanted to come down.

  Could that have been this rocket ship slide?

  I couldn’t remember. All I remembered was him standing at the bottom saying, “I’ll catch you! I’ll catch you!”

  And he always did.

  I picked my dog up and carried him like a football as I climbed one-handed into the ship. I climbed past the second level where the slide was, all the way to the top. Either these things had gotten a lot smaller, or I’d gotten a lot bigger. There was barely room for me to sit in here anymore. But I squeezed in anyway and sat down with Sherlock in my lap.

  I leaned my head against the bar and tried to remember whether I’d ever been to this park before. Had I come here with Joe? Had I come here with Joe, Sam, and Suzanne? We’d all been a family once. That’s what everyone said.

  But if that was true, how come I couldn’t remember?

  Chapter Nine

  Where have you been?” Suzanne asked the minute I walked in. Sam sort of cowered in the doorway and shot me a glad-I’m-not-you look. She had her nightshirt on already. It was navy blue, just like mine, but hers had a teddy bear on it and mine had a number nine on it.

  “Uh … walking Sherlock,” I said. Which Suzanne knew. It wasn’t like I’d snuck out of the house or anything.

  Suzanne checked her watch. “It’s eleven twenty.”

  I didn’t have a watch, but yeah, it probably was somewhere around eleven twenty. So what?

  “You left more than two hours ago!”

  “I like to walk,” I said as I took Sherlock’s leash off and slung it over the doorknob. I noticed that all the mess in the living room had been cleaned up. “I walked all the way from our house to Calhoun Square a couple of weeks ago. It took me two hours, and that was just one way.”

  “Does your dad let you walk around by yourself this late at night?”

  “Uh—” Was that not a good thing?

  “Don’t you know what can happen to girls who walk around by themselves after dark?”

  In this town? Probably not much. But I didn’t want to get into it with Suzanne. “I’ll come back earlier next time,” I said.

  “You’ll come back earlier, and you’ll take Sam with you,” Suzanne said.

  What? Sam was supposed to be my chaperone now? At least she had the decency to look a little uncomfortable about that.

  “Whatever,” I said. “Can I go to bed now?” Not that I was tired. I hardly ever went to bed before midnight in the summer.

  “Yes,” Suzanne said, looking away.

  Sherlock and I trudged past the boxes up the stairs. I quick went to the bathroom, then headed down to the den. I was pretty sure I’d left my duffel out in the hall, but someone had picked it up and brought it into the room. They’d set it on the floor next to the fold-out couch that had been neatly made up with pink-and-white flowered sheets and a pink blanket. A fluffy pink towel and matching washcloth lay on top of the pillow.

  Joe and I had never had overnight guests before, but if we did we’d probably just hand them a blanket, a pillow, and the least scraggly towel we could find.

  I closed the door and started getting undressed. I could hear Suzanne and Sam talking in hushed voices out in the hall, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Whatever it was, I bet it was about me.

  Well, so what? What did I care what they thought of me? I was only here because I had to be. And it was only for a week. Six more full days.

  I needed to brush my teeth but I didn’t want to have to walk past them and risk getting into another conversation with Suzanne on my way to the bathroom. I held my hand in front of my mouth and breathed into it. My breath wasn’t too bad. Maybe I’d just skip brushing my teeth tonight.

  I would’ve turned on the TV for a little bit, if there had been one. All they’d left in the room was an empty desk, a couch, and a bunch of boxes.

  I didn’t know what else to do besides go to bed. The sheets smelled as flowery as they looked. Our sheets at home didn’t smell anything like this. I patted the space beside me a couple times and Sherlock jumped up. He plopped down next to me, his body pressed comfortably against mine.

  Suzanne and Sam must have finished their conversation. I heard footsteps moving down the hall. Then I heard a door open and close, a toilet flush, water running, another door close. Finally everything got quiet.

  Too quiet.

  There was no TV on in the next room, no dogs barking in the distance, no people yelling, no freeway noise, nothing. How was I supposed to sleep without any noise at all?

  I wondered if Joe was sleeping right now? Was he sleeping or was he lying awake thinking about me?

  I rolled onto my stomach and hugged my pillow to my cheek. A few minutes later, I heard a door open somewhere out in the hall. I watched the bottom of my door for the hall light to come on, but it never did. Then I heard my doorknob start to turn. Sherlock’s head popped up.

  Someone was coming in.

  Who was it? Sam? I was trying to be nice to her. Really, I was. But hanging out together in the middle of the night was going a little above and beyond the call of duty. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe slow and deep like I was asleep. I figured she’d get the hint and leave.

  I breathed slow and deep for so long that I began to wonder whether she had slipped out when I wasn’t paying attention. I cracked one eye open.

  Nope. There was a dark figure leaning against the desk across the room. Watching me. But even in the darkness I could tell it wasn’t Sam. It was Suzanne.

  I quick closed that eye and tried to get control of my breathing. But it’s hard to breathe slow and deep when your heart is racing.

  What was she doing in here in the middle of the night? Why was she just standing there watching me sleep?

  All of a sudden I heard sniffling. Was she … crying? That was what it sounded like. Why was she crying?

  Sherlock jumped down. I could tell he’d gone over to her. Was he nuzzling up to her?

  I didn’t know what to do. Or what to say. I hoped Suzanne didn’t expect me to say or do anything. I hoped she thought I was actually asleep.

  Eventually she left and closed the door behind her. But after that, it took me even longer to fall asleep.

  Suzanne pounded on my door at the crack of dawn. “T.J.? Are you up?” she asked. “We’re going shopping this morning, remember?”

  I groaned. I wasn’t thrilled about the shopping or about being woken up so early. Neither was Sherlock.

  “T.J.?” The door opened a crack and Sherlock sat up. “Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah,” I croaked.

  “You should get up. We’re going to leave in an hour and a half.”

  An hour and a half? Then why did I have to get up now? But I didn’t want to be difficult, especially after last night. So I just said, “Okay.” Once Suzanne saw me sit up, she smiled and closed the door. No sign of tears this morning.

  I grabbed my s
hampoo, towel, and clothes and staggered to the bathroom. But the door was closed; someone else was already in there. Probably Sam. I left my stuff on the floor outside the door, took Sherlock outside, then came back. She was still in there. I sat down on the floor and waited for the door to open. Sherlock curled up beside me and I put my arm around him.

  A few minutes later, Suzanne came by. She glanced down at me and Sherlock with surprise, then frowned at the closed door. She rapped her knuckles sharply against it. “Sam, are you still in there?”

  “Yes!”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting ready! What do you think?”

  “T.J. needs to get ready, too.”

  The door opened and Sam peered out at me. She had a brush in one hand and a curling iron in the other. “Oh,” she said in a much nicer tone of voice than she’d used with her mom. “Sorry.” She yanked the curling iron plug from the socket and came out. “You can have the bathroom now.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I stood up. Sherlock followed me into the bathroom and I closed the door behind him.

  “Does that dog go everywhere with you?” Sam asked from the other side of the door.

  “Pretty much,” I said as I set my stuff down on the counter. Sherlock plopped down on the carpet. I gave his ears a scratch, then turned on the shower.

  While I waited for the water to heat up, I rummaged through all the little tubes and bottles of stuff in the basket next to the sink. Lightweight moisturizer. Oil control lotion. Extra emollient night cream. Mineral powder foundation. Soothing eye gel. Liquid eyeliner. I didn’t even know what half this stuff was. Or what you did with it. But it must’ve been important since nobody had packed it yet.

  There was more stuff in the shower. One bottle was labeled “2-in-1” body wash and shave. Was that just a fancy way of saying soap? And apple ginseng shampoo? I popped the top on that one and took a whiff. Whoa! Weird. Good thing I brought my own soap and shampoo.

  When I came out of the bathroom, Sam was still messing with her hair in her room across the hall. I could tell by the way she was sighing and banging her curling iron around that whatever she was trying to do wasn’t going so well.

 

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