Short Story - The Green Monkey

THE GREEN MONKEY

1

He rolled over and looked at the rippled muscles of his lover. Dark, smooth, tight. The sweat from their lovemaking rolled down his torso and disappeared beneath the satin sheet. He was an ebony Adonis sculptured by Michelangelo himself. Hot, slippery, sweet. Why did he remind him of an African warrior, painted in tribal colours with flowing feathers around his head. But only that and a small loin cloth covered him as he danced his exotic dance to the drums and chants of the tribe. That was how he imagined him of course. In reality he was many generations removed from Africa. London? Chelsea? Or perhaps a little further north. The accent was hard to pick up and of course they were both a little drunk. Too many glasses of Sauvignon Blanc perhaps or perhaps he was just too mesmerised by his incredible beauty. His gentle savagery.

He reached out and touched his skin. It was smooth, tight and wet. He ran his finger across his chest until it reached his hard nipple. It lingered. His complete lack of hair over his body gave him an unreal and sensuous feel. He gently moved his finger downwards. Slowly, towards his perfect naval. The sweat hung on him like the dew on an exotic garden. Little warm beads of moisture that made his body glisten. He watched the trail of moisture that followed his finger as it made its way slowly beneath the satin sheet. His finger. It was pale. It was boney. He shifted his gaze to his hand. Veins protruded. Blue. They ran up his arm. Hairy. Dark brown and grey hairs matted together with sweat. Was that his arm? He looked down at his own body. His stomach was creased and the white puffy rolls held his gaze. There were small pink spots on his belly. Small pimply spots. His belly button protruded like a wart surrounded by grey brown matted hair. He slid from the bed and stood, his eyes transfixed by his own white puffy flesh. He forced his gaze from his own skin and looked around the room. Where was he? It had the feel of a cheap motel room. The carpet felt a little sticky under his bare feet. The wall paper was fading and there were corners that were peeling. The was a red glow coming through the window. A light that went on, off, on, off. He focussed and could just make out the word 'Vacancy' flashing outside. There were clothes strewn about the room. A black tee shirt with the arms cut out. A pair of faded jeans with a black studded belt through the loops. Two pairs of white underpants.

He looked at the cheap mirror hanging on the wall near the bed. The man in the reflection was old. Grey haired. Wrinkled. Ugly. Disgustingly ugly. He opened his mouth and tried to make a sound. Any sound. He felt his blood rush. His heart pounding. He must make a sound. He must make a sound. Any sound.

He opened his eyes. He was in his bed, in his home. His heart still pounded and he struggled to breathe. He could feel the body next to him in the bed and he slowly turned, holding his breath as he let his eyes focus in the dark. He let out a long silent sigh as he saw his wife sleeping soundly next to him.

It was just a dream.

2

New York in August was sometimes unpleasant this August seemed to be one of the worst. "Too damn hot" thought Walter. "Too damn still." He stumbled on the curb as he tried to avoid a collision with the old lady with far too many bags. "And too many people."

Walter could see St Catherine's Park less than a block away and hurried his pace. The Park was usually quiet this time of day and he enjoyed that part of his walk In the mornings. Off the bus. Down 1st Avenue. Right onto East 68th Street. Through St Catherine's Park to East 67th. Turn right, cross the road and he was there - the New York Blood Center where he had worked since 1965. It was 8:00 in the morning but already it was hot and Walter could feel the dampness under his arms. He craved for October when he could wear his cardigan again. He didn't feel quite right without it. The Park would be a little cooler though. All those trees and the long green grass seemed to bring the temperature down a few degrees. He looked at his shirt as casually as he could and confirmed the growing wetness under his arms. He cursed his fat body but knew that soon he would have his starched white lab coat to cover the unsightly damp patches.

Walter entered the building and looked up at the picture above the reception desk. Jimmy Carter looked back with that toothy smile. "18 months and what have you achieved?" Walter thought as he passed the receptionist, carefully avoiding her gaze. He entered the long corridor that would take him through to the Lindsley F. Kimball Research Institute. The brown timber panelling of the corridor seemed to suck up all the light and the darkness felt comfortable. The occasional flicker of the fluorescent light on the ceiling gave off a ticking sound as Walter walked beneath it. The rattle and hum from the air conditioners helped calm Walter after the stress of his commute and his pace slowed a little. He finally reached his destination and opened the door to his research lab. The occupants screamed. A cacophony of monkey screams and rattling cages together with the smell of animal faeces filled the large open lab. Walter quickly moved to the hook that held his lab coat and let out a sigh as he slipped it on and buttoned it up.

"Good morning Doctor" said one of the assistants. He couldn't remember her name so he just nodded and looked away. He didn't want any distractions today. He was nearing a breakthrough and he was determined to finish it. He was after all running out of time. He moved to his bench and started to set up his work area. He removed each item from the cupboards below and carefully placed them on the bench. Glass slides here. Empty Petrie dishes to the right. Tray of instruments to the left. He carefully lined all of the instruments in the tray so they were perfectly parallel. Not touching. He shifted the Bunsen burner slightly to the left. He placed his specimen under his microscope.

"Valter!" The harsh tone and thick Polish accent sent a shiver through Walter. How he hated that man. Without looking up he answered.

"Yes Dr Shemezko?"

"Are vee on skedule?" His voice came from directly behind him. Walter could feel him looking over his shoulder.

"Yes Dr Shemezko."

"Goot Valter, goot." Came the reply as he walked away towards a group of white lab coated technicians hovering near a Bunsen burner at the next bench.

"It's 'Walter!!' you cretin" Walter mumbled under his breath as he removed his specimens from the laboratory refrigerator. How did Dr Shemezko manage to get the recognition that he himself couldn't? How did he manage to get millions of dollars to conduct this trial? Walter knew how. "He is a Jew and we all know how they work with their connections and their contacts and their underhanded ways. Insidiously pervading into our businesses. Our livelihoods." Walter could feel himself getting red with anger. "Surreptitiously controlling what we do and how we live and taking all the money and the glory away from real Americans.

"Bloody Jews!" he thought.

Walter turned his attention back to his slide. Through his microscope he could see it so clearly. A double walled sphere with a diameter of 1/10,000th of a millimetre. Protruding from the sphere were the glycoproteins that resembled little toadstools. "Perfect little docking stations" thought Walter as he marvelled at his creation. And inside the sphere were the two RNA strands. Walter stared and stared, looking for the flaw. Carefully scrutinising every element, every detail he held his breath. "Success?" He dared not say it out loud. He dared not jinx it. But he couldn't find a flaw. "Finally" whispered Walter, "I have it."

3

Friday nights were Walter's least favourite of the week. Dr Shemezko had decreed that all lab personnel must attend O'Flanagan's after work for "a relaxing beverage" to "strengthen the team". Walter hated the team. Well to be truthful, he didn't really know many of them but he was sure that if he did, he would hate them. And an Irish Bar? Too many foreign beers and drinks and too many foreign people. Friday nights were indeed his least favourite. His plan, as always, was to enter for one drink, make sure he waved to Doctor Shemezko so he knew he had attended and then sneak away. The others never minded. They never spoke to him and he had overheard some of them refer to him as 'the old smelly man". He hated them and he hated Doctor Shemezko.

He entered the pub and made his way through the crowd to the bar. The old wooden bar was covered in scratches and dents and unrecognisable stains. The smell of peanuts and old beer rose up from the worn carpet and mixed with the smells of cheap aftershave, deodorant and perfume. A cloud of smoke hovered above the crowd. Wispy smoke that silently hung in the air until the oscillating fan disturbed it. More smoke rose to take its place only to again be blown away. " The Upper East Side attracts all types" thought Walter as he passed young executives, middle aged salesmen, underage teenagers, a group of giggling girls and a trio of obviously successful businessmen. He finally reached the bar and managed to squeeze between a young man in a cheap suit and a middle aged lady with far too much make up and perfume. Walter waited patiently for the barman to notice him. It always took a long time. For reasons that Walter would never understand, barmen, like waiters, waitresses, receptionists and any other service person, just couldn't (or perhaps wouldn't) see him. He fidgeted with his 5 dollar note as he waited for some type of recognition from the barman, all the time struggling to breathe through the heavy cheap scent of the woman next to him. Finally she was being served. She fluttered her eyes and whispered "a large Gin and Tonic please you sexy beast" and she smiled a hungry smile. She was hunting thought Walter. Looking for her prey. The barman deftly grabbed a glass and the bottle of gin from beneath the neon 'Coke Adds Life' sign in a fluid motion. On the counter behind the bar he added the Gin with one hand and squirted clear soda from a small tap into the glass at the same time. "Tonic from a tap?" thought Walter, "what a strange invention."

The barman winked at the lady as he placed the glass in front of her and swooped up her money. She smiled and turned to make her way back amongst her prey. The small gap at the bar that she created on her departure was quickly filled. Walter continued to stare at his 5 dollar note. The man in the cheap suit lit up a cigarette and blew his discarded smoke directly at Walter. Walter dared not look at him. The man flicked his ash in the general direction of one of the Budweiser glass ashtrays that lined the bar. Another puff of his smoke wafted across Walter. He smoothed out his 5 dollar bill in the hope that that would attract the barman's attention.

"Valter" the man who had filled the gap created by the woman's departure was talking. "Goot to see you here."

"Bloody Shemezko!" thought Walter. He dared not look up.

The barman immediately turned to Shemezko. "Waddle ya have?" The barman's accent was vaguely Irish. Perhaps put on to complete the misconception that we were actually somewhere other than the Upper East Side thought Walter.

"A vodka and soda for me and ..."

Walter could feel Doctor Shemezko' gaze on him. "Budweiser" Walter croaked and slipped his 5 dollar bill back into his pocket.

".....and a Budweiser for my colleague."

The drinks came but Doctor Shemezko made no attempt to leave. Instead he leant on the bar and looked at Walter. Finally he said, "I have read your proposal Valter and I must admit, I was a little shocked at first." He took a sip of his drink and let out a long sigh. "Soda from a hose" he mused. "What a decade the 70s have been."

Walter wasn't sure if Shemezko expected an answer and decided to remain transfixed on his glass of beer, watching the bubbles slowly rise through the amber liquid. "Bloody Jew" he thought to himself. "Go away."

"Your arguments on your proposed target group are quite convincing and I am tempted to consider it for my trial."

"Your trial? You arrogant bastard!" Walter thought. He wanted to punch him in the face and kick him when he fell to the floor. And keep kicking him until the blood seeped into the foul carpet and his groans went silent. His body limp and lifeless.

Instead he found himself nodding slowly.

"See me first thing Monday and we will discuss the finer details." Shemezko took another sip of his vodka and soda, looked at Walter who was still staring into his beer, and decided to make his way back to the group. The space he left at the bar was quickly filled with a customer waving a 20 dollar note at the barman. Walter decided it was time to sneak out and head home. It had been an eventful day.

4

Walter slowly opened his eyes and saw the boy staring at him. He was very young - 21 or 22 thought Walter. His blonde wavy hair bounced slightly on his bare shoulders as he walked across the room and Walter found it hard to shift his gaze from that beautiful face. Walter tried to stand and found he couldn't. He tried to move his arms, his feet. He looked down. He was sitting on a wooden chair dressed only in his underwear. White, old, worn. "Like me" thought Walter. His arms and legs were tied tightly to the chair with strands of purple velvet cord.. He twisted and turned his hand testing the bond. It was tight enough to hold him but he didn't feel any pain.

"I should be scared" thought Walter but he just stared at the blonde boy moving closer.

"You have been a very bad boy Walter" the boy said with a wry smile and cracked his riding crop down against his thigh. The sound made Walter jump. He twisted and pulled his arms trying to get free. "No need to struggle. I know how to tie a knot Walter" and he smiled a boyish grin. Then a wink. Walter felt his heart thumping and felt the blood rushing through his veins. He was getting warm. Hot. Excited.

The boy stood now directly in front of Walter. His toned muscles were clearly visible through his sheer black shiny singlet. His pectorals were hard and round and his nipples were perfectly formed. "David" thought Walter. "Michelangelo's creation brought to life."

"Walter, you need to be punished for all the bad things you have done." The boy stood with one hand on his hip. His leather pants glistening in the light. His other hand held the riding crop high. Circling, circling. Walter could feel the stirring inside. That familiar feeling that made him warm. Made him Excited. The boy moved even closer. So close. He leant down so his face was almost touching Walter's. "Walter" he whispered. "Walter." He was getting louder. "Walter. Walter. WALTER!"

Walter woke to see his wife shaking him. "Walter!" She had a worried look on her face. "You're having a nightmare."

Walter jumped from the bed and rushed to the bathroom. "It's nothing dear." he mumbled. "I am alright. It was just a dream. Nothing to worry about. " He kept mumbling until he reached the bathroom and quickly shut the door behind him. He leant on the hand basin and looked in the mirror. A hatred filled him. A sick feeling. Disgust. He needed to wash, scrub, cleanse. "I hate you!" he said to his reflection. "Hate you!"

5

Monday morning's commute was stressful for Walter. So much hinged on his meeting and he knew how bad he was in meetings. Worse still, Walter expected that it would be just him and Doctor Shemezko. One on one. How he hated that. No where to hide. No one else to answer. No one else to talk. No escape. But it was so important that Walter knew he had to be strong. Writing the proposal was one thing but to have to explain, justify, convince. No. That wasn't something Walter had had any success with in the past. He wasn't looking forward to this at all.

He found himself imagining the conversation as he walked through St Catherine's Park. If he tried hard he could imagine arguing with Shemezko and demanding that he accept the proposal. In his head he could see himself being strong, determined, eloquent. "You will accept my proposal you stinking Jew! Don't argue with me or I will slap you again and again you snivelling coward!" Walter smiled to himself but deep down he knew he would struggle with any conversation with that man.

"Bloody Jew" he muttered to himself.

Walter entered the lab and made straight for the hook holding his lab coat. Fastening the last button he heard that voice. "Valter!" He felt his knees wobble. He felt he was about to fall. That his legs wouldn't carry him. That his voice would refuse to come out. Incredibly, he heard himself quietly say "Yes Doctor Shemezko. I am coming."

"Come. Come." Shemezko waved his hand at Walter, beckoning him to follow. "Come."

As Walter entered the small office he noticed the smell first. Peppermints. Then he noticed the coldness. The air conditioner humming and pouring out cold air. Walter made his way to the chair that Shemezko was waving at and sat, no, almost fell into the chair. "Tea?" Shemezko held up a tea cup and looked at Walter. Walter briefly imagined himself holding a delicate cup and saucer. Shaking. Tea spilling this way and that. The rattle of cup on saucer as his shaking hands tried to steady themselves.

"No thank you" he heard himself saying in a soft raspy voice.

Walter looked around the office as Shemezko made himself a cup of tea. On the walls hung diplomas and awards and letters of commendation. There were big leather bound books filling the two book shelves that lined one wall. There were small pictures on his desk but Walter could only see the backs of the frames. Books and folders were scattered over the desk and there were piles of paper in one corner. He could make out his own paper. Sitting there on the desk.

"Your paper regarding the trial group for our Hepatitis B vaccine experiment has some excellent points." Shemezko waved vaguely at Walter's document on the desk then leant back in his chair and sipped at his tea. He screwed his face slightly and reached quickly for the sugar bowl on his desk. Adding another spoonful and stirring he looked up at Walter to see his reaction. There was none. Walter sat forward on the chair, hot sweaty hands clasped together in his lap. His eyes were focussed on Shemezko' desk. More specifically, he focussed on the back of one of the frames. "This trial", Shemezko continued "is very important and we do not want any added complications from participants. I had thought that we would use ordinary volunteers from the community but your suggestion has some merit." He took another sip of his tea then carefully placed the cup and saucer back on the desk in front of him.

Walter stared at the desk. Deep brown, wooden, polished but with lots of nicks and scratches. The brown of the desk seemed to merge with the brown timber panel sheets on the wall. Designed to look like individual wooden cladding but they completely failed at their intended deception. "Too much brown" thought Walter. "Brown carpet, brown walls, brown desk." He shifted his gaze slightly. "And his stupid brown tie."

"By narrowing the trial group to only homosexuals I think we focus on a group that is more at risk to the hepatitis B virus and so our results can be better analysed." Shemezko stood up. He took a few steps from behind his desk and half sat, half leant on the corner of the desk. "It of course can be presumed that this group are more likely to be drug users. Homosexuals usually are, are they not?"

Walter felt he should answer and struggled to find words. He wanted to say "Yes. They are disgusting creatures whose lifestyle is abhorrent and against the very fabric of nature itself. Drug use, promiscuity, sexual deviance, lovers of satan! And isnt that what I said in MY proposal you stupid moron!" But Walter couldn't speak. He was afraid. His plans hinged on this decision and he was far too nervous to do much of anything except nod.

"So what better group to use, eh Valter?" Shemezko stood again and moved back to his chair. Standing behind it and holding the back of the chair tightly. The veins in his hands protruding. "But I am thinking we can do even better Valter."

Walter stopped breathing. "No, no, no. It must be homosexuals" he thought. "It must be." Walter started to panic. He thought about all the hours he had spent in the lab perfecting his creation. Hours upon hours creating something that would fix the world. Make it better. Make it cleaner and purer. He vaguely heard Shemezko say something like 'monogamous'.

"What?" He looked up at Shemezko to try and grasp what he was saying. A pleading, questioning look on his face.

"Non monogamous, healthy, intelligent. Only those homosexuals who are likely to have many partners." Shemezko became animated, waving his arms about. His voice got louder. "And preferably white. We want our test group to be young, educated, white homosexuals who are not in a steady relationship. This gives us a strong trial group and helps with logistics." He waved his finger at Walter. "It may also help reduce any legal liability if things should not go as completely expected." He took another sip of tea.” You know what I mean yes?. They are homosexuals after all." Shemezko smiled, took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. He looked at Walter who now seemed to have a half smile and waited for a response. Walter could feel the air thicken and he tried hard to find words. Deep inside his head Walter was shouting, 'Yes! Yes! Yes!" but after a long, uncomfortable silence, Walter could only manage a "Good idea Doctor Shemezko".

"So we will advertise next week, interview, select and conduct the hepatitis B trial starting in November. We will start in Manhattan. If this is a success we move on to Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago and so on and so on." Shemezko leaned back and looked at Walter. Walter's mind was already racing. So much to do and now the timeline had been set. He was excited. Relieved. He looked at Shemezko and nodded.

"Very well. Let us begin." And he waved his hands at Walter as if shooing him out the door. "Start preparing the vaccine. 1000 shots to begin with? Yes Valter?" He opened one of the books in front of him and started to write. "Much to do. Much to do."

Walter forced himself to stand and made his way to the door. His legs were shaking and he struggled to breathe. But already he was developing his own timetable in his head. Dates, actions, plans. "Yes indeed" he thought. "So much to do."

6

Walter stared through his microscope and marvelled at the beauty of his creation. "Much prettier than the one we helped create for the African small pox program" thought Walter as if he was communicating with the virus itself. "You are much prettier. More intelligent too. And you will be faster. You have a very specific task my friend and only you can do it now."

Walter sat back from the microscope and did some quick calculations. "If we were to treat 1000 in Manhattan with a success rate of 50 to 60 percent and those 500 or so infect 10 a year and those in turn infect ten......." Walter was getting excited. "And if we can then move to LA and San Francisco with another 1000 volunteers in each city..." Walter looked at the ceiling as he calculated the impact. "Now that's a big number my friend" he was addressing the virus again, "a big number indeed."

Walter felt as good as he had ever felt. Years of planning and research would finally pay off and the world would start to be a better place. His creation would act fast too. He expected to see results within a year. He could wait that long. He had waited a long time so far and a year or so more wouldn't be a problem. Not when the benefits would be so great.

"Just imagine," Walter whispered as he stared back through the microscope, "a world with no homosexuals. No more dreams. No more nightmares,"

Walter stood and walked over to the animal enclosures. Hairless rats, pink and wrinkly, white mice with pink eyes scurrying through the straw on the bottom of their cage. A pair of white rabbits, noses twitching. A chimpanzee sitting quietly staring back at Walter. "And you my little chimp. You must take a lot of credit for this achievement. Without you I could not have succeeded." In the cage next to the chimp sat a small monkey, his black face and golden/green fur making him look like a child's toy. His small pale hands held a wedge of apple as he looked curiously ay Walter. The label on the front of the cage simply said 'Green Monkey'.

"But you, my poor Sabaeus," Walter reached up and pulled a banana out of the big bowl of fruit on the shelf. He carefully peeled it and broke off a piece. The monkey reached out to Walter. His small arm stretching as far as it could to reach the tasty morsel. Walter passed the piece of banana to the Green Monkey and watched him devour it. Holding it carefully in both hands.

"You, unfortunately, will be the one that everyone blames."

End