The Monkey, The Man, and His Baby

The summer sun shone through the layers of green leaves, sprinkling from canopy to ground glitches of light.  And the two friends walked up to the trail, which was winding and brown till it couldn’t be seen with the first hill.  The trail also was worn parallel from four-wheelers and bikes, as if really two trails with a hump of dirt and lumps of grass as a sort of median between them.  The friends looked at each other and then started walking down the trail.  They walked maybe 10 minutes, the one friend admiring the sturdy trees, sunlight, noticing the growth was different than the last time, the other friend stopped.

I need to masturbate, he said.

His friend really didn’t think too much of it, he was too busy spotting the eagle that had flown sharply high above.

Ok, but make it quick, will ya?

Ok.

So the friend went off and out of his friend’s field of vision, for about 10 minutes, and then came back.

That wasn’t that quick, Geez.  You actually missed a fox hop by down the trail, maybe a good 30 feet.  He was gorgeous.

So onward, they were heading to build a fire at a certain spot they used to build when they were kids.  The sun had subdued itself to a misty yellow, and the hills began to get more flat.  It was easy walking for a while.  Some of the cones on the ground were absurdly large.  The one friend picked one up to inspect the different ridges and patterns.

Gee, you know, I really gotta masturbate again.

Man, you gotta handle that shit.  Is this how you are in the city?  I mean, you’re eating lunch with family or friends, and oh wait, I have to go masturbate, could you hold the main course just 10 minutes longer?

Actually, I do masturbate in restaurant bathrooms, movie theater bathrooms.  I’m on a really perverted rhythm with it, but yeah…

Ok, go ahead, Geez.  You’re missing three squirrels jump from tree to tree, like with wings.

So the friend went off and did his business, while the other friend sat on a stump, patiently, noticing the breeze was mildly calm, and did in fact cool him.

Ok, I’m done.  Let’s go.

We have only 2 miles to go.  Once the fire is built, I don’t care if you masturbate till your peepee falls off.  I just want to keep moving.  Besides, you’re missing all the action.

The friend looked at him, on the stump, and then the trail, then hills and trees.  He noticed a beer can on the ground, heard the chirping of a few birds, and smelled something like a cross between a fart and swamp water.  Not that he didn’t like these walks and the fire, but it seemed so plain, in a way, so un-Transcendental.

So the two friends kept walking on the trail, until the one friend stopped and quietly said, see that cavern over there, you remember when we used to climb inside it, well, it’s—how you say—occupied now, so tread lightly.

A bear or something?

He nodded.  Black one.

They kept moving forward and, you guessed it.

Dude, I have to masturbate again.  I’m sorry.  I must.  You look at the birds and bees.  I wack it, you know?

No, I don’t know.  This is kinda unhealthy. I put my foot down.  You can’t.  You are not going to go jerk off and get semen all over your shorts.  God, the bear can see the spots from his cave.

What are you, like the police or something?   I’ll be over here for 5 minutes max.  Then we’ll be at the site before you can say Poplar.

So the friend went off and now his friend was getting passive aggressive in thought.  And in deed.   He went to the site and started collecting kindling.  By the time the friend finished masturbated, and realized to go to the site, the other friend said, ok, start the fire.

First, the friend pulled out a lighter, but that didn’t work.   Then he tried a lighter with some old dead leaves.  Didn’t work.

Dude, I haven’t done this in years, what do I do?

I’m not going to show you.  

And so they sat there in the dark.     

Dude, build the fire, will ya?

Nope, the dark’s kinda nice for me. I hear and smell more than usual.

Well, it just feels pretty cold.

Man, it’s about 75 degrees or something.

I meant it metaphorically.

Are you afraid of the dark?

No, just disturbed by it, that’s it.

Well, at least, you’re not humping a tree or something.  Just relax, it’s only darkness.  Did you hear the wind through the canopy?

Nope.

Doesn’t that shadow over there look like a 9 foot tall man?

I guess.  I’ll be right back.

Where ARE you going?

Uh, to admire the darkness.

You’re going to go fuck yourself for the 5^th time today.

So what?

I mean like some parents or friends or teachers just sort of understatedly imply or suggest that you can’t wack it every minute.  It’s just a society thing, man.  Even among close relatives and friends.  If I was your father taking you camping, would you tell me then and go off every 20 minutes?

My father doesn’t camp.

Just go jack off, will you.

And when the friend came back, his friend was gone.  But left behind was a little drawing of a monkey, a man, and the man’s baby in his arms.  Not that it was intricately drawn, but his friend was an artist, so even a quick squiggle was better than average drawings.

He had to squint hard to make out the baby, and in its mouth was a pacifier.

So he started to walk back from which they came.  And it was like 3 times as long of a trip, because he was sort of blindly swinging from tree to tree.  And when he made it back to the car, on the windshield was a picture of a monkey, a man, and his baby.  Like a calling card, he thought.  He sat in his car, turned it on, and mourned.