Leo the Monkey had much to say about this world. He was vocal, he was damning, but oh boy, wasn’t he utterly disarming? With his short, cute stature, and scurrying little legs, one could not be blamed for siding with the opinions of Leo more than absolutely less, accepted wholeheartedly instead.
What Leo was most passionate about was using windmills as turbines, to create free, electrical energy for his jungle city, why, if they survived on that, wouldn’t the future of the world alter from dire to exceptionally happier and incredibly pretty? Another topic he was fond of spouting and educating to others at length, was his ability to straighten one single head hair each time with the warm air from his nostrils, of this none other held a skill to compare. And a third trick he was prone to sharing was leaping into the sky and performing skipping ropes with his arms held together, arching around and around, with Leo the Monkey his opinions and actions were not always of a serious tone.
While playing loop-de-loop with his arms as Leo in the jungle was ambling, whistling to himself, whilst thinking the effects on global warming by humans were incredibly damning, he bumped into Jodi the Baboon, his favourite coloured butt friend, he high fived her in greetings excitedly, his mood was now focused, joyous, less angry and sad.
“Jodi, how have you been?” he implored. “How is your lovely husband, your shared life?” Once Leo was away from his thoughts, he was able to focus on others as a means to listen attentively and of their words he’d bounce back and reassure.
“Oh, you know,” she said, with a flippant, dismissive gesture, “Peter is well, Peter.” She chuckled nervously, and looked to the ground. Something about this situation was making Leo the Monkey uneasy, he wasn’t quite sure what the problem was with Peter, but he suspected it was not a picture that would be painted prettily. He was known in the jungle for being loud and domineering, what occurred behind closed doors with Jodi, when no one was there for the viewing?
“Please, come for a cup of tea one day,” Leo implored. “You’re most welcome on any given day.” And with the reassurance that this invite was the case, it was correct, genuine and true, Jodi and Leo went on their merry ways. But Jodi never appeared, he never once saw her at his door, it was though she had vanished from the jungle for many days, hidden quietly away. Weeks later, he spotted her at the Money Tree General Store, where she was trying to surreptitiously nurse a bruise around her eye that was concealed with heavy makeup, it was still as obvious as a thumb that was inflamed, throbbing and sore.
It was then that Leo pledged to alter Jodi’s situation, she knew that Peter, her husband, was a fond follower of his ideas behind wind turbines and their use as a positive result and situation. It did not help though, that he was a slimy character, and weaseled his way out of responsibility for things he shouldn’t be allowed to.
The very next day, Leo turned up at Jodi and Peter’s door unannounced.
“Yoo hoo!” he knocked and called out. In his hand he held a platter of cucumber and grubby bug sandwiches, they would please Peter, most certainly indeed. With a feeling of ominous wariness, the door slowly creaked open, behind it was meek, frightened Jodi, poor baboon lady, he wanted to hug here right there and then. But he knew that Peter would not approve, despite the fact that he and his wife’s relationship was only platonic, they were certainly only dear close friends, no point causing Peter jealousy and anger if he could help it. At his request, Leo was shown into Peter’s private study room, where he was sucking and puffing on a baboon cigar.
“My dear friend, how are you?” Peter asked, surprise within his shiny, beady eyes. “I’ve not seen you since your last seminar! It was great, by the way,” he added, as though his approval was a classified secret.
“Thank you,” Leo replied stiffly. He loathed having to be fake, so disingenuous. He was here for a reason though, to discover why Jodi was so skittish, was Peter maltreating the baboon who was now his queen, and years before his precious princess? Yet direct the hour long meeting and conversation did he toward feelings, emotions, understandings of life and how to treated your loved one, a beloved wife, it was no use: all Peter wanted to do was speak of turbines. With a shake of his head, Leo decided to draw the attention and concentration of Peter into one straight, obvious line.
“Do you mistreat your wife, my friend, dear Jodi?” he spurted out. “Enough of this talk of windmills being constructed in the nearby city. What I want to know is: why the black eye? The sudden meekness? Her shaking, trembling, frightened looks like she’s about to cry?” Peter dismissed Leo’s accusation, and sent him on his way that day, from now on there would be no future interaction, Leo would have to perform his own actions in order for Jodi to be saved.
Leo pressed and pressed Jodi until she cracked, raw nerves of steel altered, after the fact, and gushing forth with all the information of abuse, share did she, it made Leo cry and whimper, at the emotional abuse she was required to experience daily. What kind of world was this when a baboon could not trust her lover, to love and cherish her, accept her wonder? Years of hidden suffering, obvious signs that she was about to crack, and all it took to distinguish the behaviour from hidden existence was a friend who only meant for her goodness and a desirable life to boot, to be had.
So he convinced her, how courageous she would be, if of this Peter, questionable, rude abusive character, that she should up and leave him. Together, her and Monkey Leo could start a new life, in a far reaching corner of the jungle universe, they’d recommence with style. And as for the evil one that she would leave behind, why, he could have many years to assess his behaviour and of this deeply contemplate. He would be alone forever, until the dawn of the world’s new time.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
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