By Matt Ruff
Jane Charlotte has been arrested for homicide. She says she's a member of a mystery association dedicated to battling evil. She says she's operating with the dept for the ultimate Disposition of Irredeemable Persons—aka "Bad Monkeys." Her confession lands her within the jail's psychiatric wing and earns her numerous hours of poking, probing, and wondering by means of a certified. yet is Jane loopy or mendacity? Or is she taking part in an entire diverse video game altogether?
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No. I know I should have, but I was pissed at him for hitting me. Besides, telling what I’d seen meant explaining how I’d happened to see it, and I didn’t think he’d appreciate the part about me looking to get stoned. I needed time to come up with a sanitized version of the story—one that would stand up to questioning. Meanwhile, I decided to ask some questions of my own. When we finally got to school that morning, I quizzed the librarian about the janitor. She didn’t know much. His name was Whitmer, Marvin or maybe Martin, and like me he was new; she’d heard he’d worked at another school before this one, but she couldn’t say where.
No. The guy was a creep, obviously, but at that point I was still thinking voyeur, not psycho killer. I figured he was tailing them because he wanted to whack off some more—or maybe he was hoping to steal some panties, or a chew toy. Then the next morning, I went out to catch my ride and Señor Diaz was driving the car, which had never happened before. ” I said. ” “The death angel,” said Carlotta. ” Modesto was north, the same direction the RV had been headed. That should have been enough to start me thinking, but the lightbulb didn’t go on until Carlotta said: “Get this.
And then one day I bumped into my old pal Moon. I hadn’t seen her in twenty years, but this one day I was feeling nostalgic and decided to go back to the Haight, to the street where we grew up. I was standing in front of the lot where the community garden used to be—it had been paved and turned into a skateboard rink—when Moon came along, dragging a pair of kids with her. BAD MONKEYS 55 She looked great. Young and skinny, not like someone who’d been through two pregnancies. Meanwhile I was definitely the worse for wear, so it took her a minute to recognize me, but when she finally did she gave me this big hug and introduced me to the brood.
Bad Monkeys: A Novel (P.S.) by Matt Ruff