Running With Monkeys: Hell on Wheels

by Diane Munier

  “Want you? I always…”

  “But you never asked. Francis asked…kind of. Audie invited Francis. Oh…it got ahead of you.”

  “Isbe, we’re going for Jerry’s truck. Some moog took it headed for Hot Springs. It may be a bust; we may find it before we get there. If we make it to Hot Springs, we don’t plan to stay. It’s not that I don’t want you to go. But no one told me they were asking you girls. I haven’t had time to think about it.” He hoped that was enough. The monkeys and their girls were shouting things, but they ignored them.

  “I don’t want to go anyway. I’ve got work to do. What about your job?” she said, and it hurt him to see her disappointment. She thought he didn’t want her along. He just hadn’t thought about it.

  “Yeah…I’ve got to move. Lou—he died.”

  “No! His poor wife!”

  “Oh yeah, Sal says she’s okay.”

  Isbe looked puzzled.

  “Not…happy about it. But she’s—they got dough.” Not as much as they were going to have, but Jules figured he hadn’t stolen a dime from Sonya…just Sal. And he was happy to do that.

  “Money isn’t everything, Jules. You know that, right? Money can’t replace a person—a husband!”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Dorie was out of the car and running to them. “Isbe, come on. We’re going to ask Dolly about time off.”

  “I don’t need time off.”

  “You don’t want to go to Hot Springs? They’ve got a bowling alley underneath the street!”

  “You can come if you want,” Jules said.

  “What?” Isbe said, tears in her eyes. “I said no! I’m not barging in on your little…outing with the… monkeys!” She pulled away and started to walk down the street. Then over her shoulder, she yelled, “Come if I want? Not in a million years, buster!”

  “Isbe, aww, come back here,” he said.

  Then Francis was there, going after Isbe. They started to fight.

  “Isbe,” Jules said, catching up, “I want you to go. You know I do. I just didn’t know. I want you to go.”

  “No thanks,” she said, and Francis growled.

  “You’re going!” Francis said. She tried to pull Isbe toward the building they worked in, but Isbe pulled away.

  “I said no,” she said. “I’m going home.”

  “Go on,” Jules said to Francis. “I’ll meet you at her house.”

  He put his hands in his pockets then and followed Isbe, those round, sexy little hips. She was so cute when she was angry.

  They were walking in silence, almost to a bus stop, the one she probably took home. When they reached it, they stood there, Jules beside her, but not too close, and a gang of girls there besides, talking among themselves and giggling behind their hands.

  Jules stood there, ignoring those girls and staring mostly at the ground. He’d like to pound a mick named Audie right about now for springing this on him and getting him in all this damn trouble. Seeing as he couldn’t do that, he played nice as he could while he waited for Isbe to loosen the nutcracker.

  The bus came, and they piled in, and he had to fish for the fifteen cents, and a couple of girls showed their transfers and he got separated from her, and she took a seat in the back, and he got next to it and had to stand, but that suited him more than fine.

  They rode aways, and he got jostled some, and he stepped closer to Isbe, who kept her face turned toward the old lady beside her and the window they shared. He reached out and touched a piece of hair that lay against her cheek. The he touched her cheek. She didn’t look at him, but she didn’t pull away or swat at his hand.

  So he did that, tracing under her ear and slowly down her neck. What he felt for this girl, it could buckle his knees if he didn’t remember to hold himself.

  He longed for her. And it was mutual; he knew this. That’s what this was about. She thought he didn’t want her. That made him smile. She had no idea.

  Finally, she looked forward, then down to her lap, and he kept touching her—he had to feel some tie, some physical tie; he’d waited so long. She looked up at him then, and they stared at one another. Little beauty, he thought. Little Beauty.

  Finally, she smiled a little. When she did, his hand cupped her chin, and he leaned down, there on the bus, people all around, and he kissed her. Just a sweet kiss.

  The old lady beside her looked like he’d taken out his pecker, but he didn’t care about any of them. Her shoulder pressed his leg then and the bus ground forward, and she took his hand, and they moved toward her house, but it was more they were moving toward and they both knew it.

  Chapter 31

  “Fifteen minutes!” Dorie squealed to Bobby. “It’s not possible!”

  Francis was next door, already packing. Audie and Jerry were yelling out that they were going to take care of the pool.

  Jules had taken the liberty of following Isbe upstairs to her room. Isbe hadn’t warmed toward Jules on the short walk from the bus stop to her house. He’d gotten hopeful there on the bus, but the ice cubes were back soon as they got off.

  “Hey,” he’d said, following her but letting her stay a few paces ahead. “You gonna come with me?”

  “Why should I?” she said, not breaking her stride.

  “Cause…I won’t go without you.”

  That got her. She stopped and turned around. “Why not?”

  He shrugged some, hands in his pockets. He walked backward as he passed her and kept moving. “Cause we can’t be apart,” he quoted.

  “Huh,” she said, most disrespectfully. “You don’t have a problem being away from me.”

  He slowed down and faced forward, walking beside her now. She was such a spunky little thing. “Not true.”

  She blew through her lips like he was a fantastic liar.

  “Forget it then. I won’t go.”

  “Don’t do me any favors,” she said.

  “Oh yeah?” he said. He was getting mad.

  She glanced at him and looked away. She sped up a little, and he kept right up, and that’s how it was all the way up to her room.

  Now he stood in her doorway, and she was in her room bustling around, and he felt like a creeper watching her. “Okay if I’m up here?”

  She shrugged, undoing her belt as she positioned her closet door as a shield. She was going to change her clothes.

  “I’ll be downstairs,” he said, but he didn’t move. She peeked around the door. He smiled.

  “Liar,” she said.

  He looked around like he couldn’t believe it. “You talking to me?”

  She didn’t answer, but she was behind the door moving around. She was doing it, undressing while he stood here like a fool.

  “I’m coming back there,” he threatened.

  She still didn’t answer. She wouldn’t break.

  The hell with it. He went down the hall to go downstairs.

  “Jules.”

  He was nearly to the stairs, and she was in her doorway finishing the buttons on her blouse. She had on some shorts. Cute as a bug in a rug—no, that was Little Bird; this girl here, Isbe, she was a forest fire.

  “What?” he said, miffed about how she could twist him around.

  She turned and went back in her room, and he stood there a second, then followed her.

  She was on her bed, sitting there, arms folded. She’d pulled the tie out of her hair, and it was streaming over her shoulders.

  He went to her bed and sat beside her. “What do you want me to do?” he said. Damn, he was going the extra mile with her, and she didn’t even appreciate it.

  Naturally, she made him wait for an answer. She had her head down again.

  After a few long seconds, she sighed and looked at him.

  “I don’t want to force you to do something…”

  “Isbe, I can’t be forced to do anything. Don’t you know that about me?”

  While they stared at each other, Dorie called up the stairs. “Audie says five minutes, Isbe. Dolly is givin
g us three whole days; well, counting Sunday, so you better be down here with a packed bag!”

  “Hurry up,” Jules told her.

  “I…”

  “I want you,” he said. “You know I do.”

  She swallowed, and he saw the tears gathering. “I’m not normal,” she whispered. “You can’t,” more swallowing, “confuse me. I mean…I get easily confused. You confuse me.”

  “Baby,” he said, and if he went for her, they’d never get her packed. “Throw some stuff in a bag. Please.”

  “I want to go; of course I do…” she began getting on her feet, and right away he moved her between his knees. He had his hands on her bottom, a grand gesture, sink or swim. Then he leaned and kissed just above that button on her shorts.

  She gasped some and backed away, tripped a little. “Jules,” she whispered. “You’ve got no limits. How can I go with you for three days and hold a line…”

  “I ever force you?”

  “No, but…”

  “Then stop making out like I’m some kind of pervert.”

  “I didn’t…I’m not; it’s just…this is what married people do…travel together…”

  “Dorie and Francis don’t have a problem…”

  “I’m not Dorie and Francis. Don’t you compare me…”

  “I’m not,” he said, waving the white flag. “Shit, Isbe. You can have your own room. I’m not trying to get you alone so I can…You said we couldn’t be apart. You said that. You’re making me crazy, back and forth…if you want to go with some other guy…” It made him mad to say it. He didn’t mean any of this, but he’d tried being patient, begging. She wouldn’t be happy until he was reduced to being a complete pansy sissy. So he tried this now—threats. They always worked.

  “You don’t want me, just let me know—” he continued.

  “Stop it,” she said, all tragic.

  “Me? I’m the voice of reason here. You give all these mixed signals—yes, no, maybe. Hell with dat. I’ll be downstairs. You let me know.”

  “Stop it,” she said again, then, “Jules!”

  He ignored her and kept going. Shit, this better work.

  Outside, Audie was in front with Bobby packing the girls’ shit in the trunk. Jules looked in, and their paper bags were smashed in the corner while the girls’ nice pasteboard suitcases were getting figured in.

  “What the hell you doin’?” he said in Gorilla’s ear.

  There was Audie’s big-ass grin while he straightened things out. Bobby was already laughing, but he wouldn’t look Jules in the eye either. Audie did. “What?” he said.

  “Ape licker,” he said, slapping Audie on the back of the head.

  Audie held up a finger. “Watch that, chimp-ass.”

  “This?” Jules did it again.

  Francis came out then, looking like a blonde Gloria Swanson, scarf over her hair and big sunglasses, a dress tied behind her neck. The bongas alone stopped Audie cold. “Oh man…God…thank you,” he said under his breath.

  That broad had another round bag on her arm. Where the hell were they supposed to put all this gear?

  Little Bird was behind her, also glamorous. They were pretty beautiful, these two, but the next girl out, the one laughing up a storm with Jerry Blake—if she didn’t piss him off so royally, he’d have to say, even still, this girl was so over-the-top outstanding, Helen of Troy couldn’t compete even with her thousand ships.

  Jules went to her and took the one sensible bag off her arm. “Glad you could make it,” he said, pretty much butting right in front of Blake, who had the good sense to stand down.

  “Me too,” she said low and touched his arm. And just that quick, the earth settled on its axis.

  Blake sat in front with Audie and Francis, and the other four piled in the back. Bobby and Dorie were smooching up a storm before they were off Isbe’s block.

  Baboon had no self-control whatsoever.

  Blake kept engaging Isbe. Jules couldn’t follow a word, just those jaws moving and that wide-lipped grin with so many teeth—that goof have an extra set in there? He should give some to his old man.

  Finally, Jules did this little twirly motion with his finger over Isbe’s head so she wouldn’t see and defend this little sucker like he was some poor refugee. Blake got the message and he turned around, kept his face toward the window, letting the wind whip off some of the scowl probably.

  She looked up at Jules then and smiled, with these sad eyes. He had his arm around her, but on the seat. “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” she said.

  Then he felt more eyes on him, and he saw Gorilla looking at him in the mirror, big grin. “Hi,” Gorilla said.

  Jules gave him the finger where Isbe couldn’t see again.

  Gorilla laughed, and Francis was cooing at him like he was Johnny Weissmuller in a loin cloth and she was Jane. Things had definitely heated up between those two, just like he’d thought. Poor Blake up there with all that monkey heat. Ha-ha.

  He smiled again at Isbe because she was looking at him.

  “Sorry about…” she began.

  Oh, here we go, he thought.

  “I just didn’t know…what to do.”

  “Water under the bridge,” he said, hoping she’d let it go.

  “I just…I care so much about you…I almost don’t trust myself. I mean…I wouldn’t want to…I have to get things settled…you know?”

  Get what settled? That he wouldn’t be pollinating the flower anytime soon? She’d said it and said it, mother of God. It wasn’t her girl time yet, was it?

  “Were you really gonna stay home if I didn’t go?” she asked softly.

  “I said so…” He let it drop. He tightened his arm around her a little. She scooted a little closer, and he felt her breast against his side and those legs could come closer too. Now that was his language.

  He heard Dorie say “Bobby-wobby,” and he tried not to laugh. Baboon was such a sappy mick. It was funny to see this look on him like he was listening to Churchill read the terms to a treaty for world peace or some shit. It was embarrassing.

  Francis got the radio going, and music provided some small curtain over the sounds of lovers in love.

  Jules still had that arm around Isbe, but he played with her hair with the other hand. Then he was stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

  Isbe wanted to know more about this guy taking Jerry’s truck and how they got involved in this. Was he friends with Jerry now?

  He rambled along the corridors of those questions, giving her brief answers. He didn’t want to talk about that shit.

  Then she asked about the fight. She could see they’d all been fighting again.

  “It’s like—a contest. Not a fight like you think.”

  “You mean at a gym?”

  “A competition,” he said. “I did that a couple of times in the army. Like a match.” Talk about swabbing the decks to make nice. He’d fought a few times in the army and out. Oh hell yes.

  “I wasn’t aware. There’s so much I don’t know. When did you practice?”

  “Practice?” He fingered his own smile. “My whole life.” He looked out his window now, grinning, but heck.

  She asked about his dad. What did he do?

  “He was a preacher.”

  “You’re kidding?” She couldn’t believe it.

  Jules shrugged. He wasn’t that bad, was he? But he laughed at her expression. “Gonna catch a fly,” he said, close to her face. She closed her mouth.

  “You’re Protestant?”

  “I’m nothin’. A human being,” he said.

  “What’s he like…your dad?”

  “Moses—without the beard and the dress. Moses holding the Commandments on the stone tablets, whacking everyone in the head.”

  “That’s…that’s terrible. Why do you say this?”

  “You asked.”

  They were quiet then. “He was mean to you,” she said.

  “You ever get whacked with a stone ta
blet?”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Me too.”

  She sighed in frustration.

  “Look, Isbe, it don’t matter anymore. He was a mean old prick. Now he’s sick and alone, and he’s too broken up to hit. I ain’t seen him since I been home. Maybe he’s dead. I don’t know, and truthfully I don’t care.”

  “Oh, Jules.”

  “Oh, Jules what? You of all people should understand that…” And they were there. Clark Blaise.

  “I should understand what? My father has his faults, but I wasn’t beaten,” she said.

  “Well, that’s like judging from the bottom up, you know?” And he went on, speaking as if he was her: “Hey, I may have been raised by a backstabbing asshole who deserted me, but he didn’t beat me, so thank you, God, Amen. You know?”

  Uht-oh. She unwrapped his arm from around her shoulders lickety-split.

  “Stop the car, stop it. Stop the car!” Isbe yelled.

  “Nah, nah, don’t stop,” he yelled over her. “You gonna do it again, go through the whole dramatic run-off cause what—I said that about your old man?” He was madder over Clark than he’d realized. Yeah, he hated the bastard.

  Francis killed the music.

  “I don’t like what you said or how you said it. I don’t have to stay here,” Isbe said.

  “What do I do? Jules?” Audie said in the mirror again, not kidding around this time.

  “Drive,” Jules said.

  “Stop,” Isbe said at the same time. “Jerry, make him stop.”

  Jerry looked like she’d poked her fingers in his eyes, but he rose to the occasion. “Stop,” he said to Audie. Then to Jules, “What’d you do?”

  “I met your father again, Isbe. Not just at Lou’s store…but at the fight. The fight I was in.” The monkeys were squirming then because they were all in this.

  “He arrested us. All of us. Even Jerry the loveable bear cub. He threw our asses in jail. We just got out. This morning in fact.”

  “My dad? He was the arresting officer? You were breaking the law? The fight—you said it was a match.”