Glad I found you here. I’d like you to take your monkey and get back on the boat.

She turned and the monkey climbed up the sleeve of her sweater to hunch on her shoulder, clutching her auburn hair. I’m not going back.

Maybe this will change your mind –?? My hand went to an empty holster. I could only watch as the monkey handed her my pistol.

She fired, blowing my right kneecap to dust. I dropped to the ground, just managing to grab her ankle as she went to leave. Falling to one knee she fired again, blowing my wrist apart. She got back to her feet, my disembodied hand still clutching her ankle, and went out the door, her high heels click-clacking down the stone steps.

With my left hand I pulled my t-shirt over my head. I’d just managed to get the shirt tied around my right arm when I blacked out.

Later I pulled myself groggily up to the balcony railing. I looked down and saw her. She hadn’t made it far. She lay splayed out, my amputated hand still encircling her ankle. Dried blood spidered through the cracks between the cobblestones. The monkey sat with his hand in her hair. He saw me and let out a savage shriek.

The guards appeared and looked up to the balcony before I could limp away. They fired a few shots and I did one of those over-the-balcony death summersaults you see in movies. I landed in a crumpled heap. The monkey came over and in my last few second of life I felt him licking my ear. I went to grab him with my phantom hand. Then a curtain of blood obstructed my vision. I passed out. Soon after, I died.

Epilogue:
The monkey sat with me for a few hours before eventually climbing up a nearby hill and returning safely to the jungle.

It’s funny if you think about it. Two goons like us getting all this money. Charlie couldn’t stop talking about his girl Esmeralda and how much he was gonna give her. Esmeralda took some of it, sure, but most of it went to his Mom living in the loony bin and his little brother Marcos who’d been on the street his whole life. I took my part and went down the dock and bought a boat, this big long sloop. I’d go out at night with it and just float. Lean on the railing and look back at all the little lights sparkling off the bay.

Marcia came out once with me and a couple other girls but hardly anyone wanted to hear about the big trip up North I had planned. I’d always drop them back off at the wharf and watch as they walked away down the planks. My sloop floated back out to sea with me in it, determined to start a new life in the northern country and leave behind all the mooks and chumps.

My course started just fine- a light breeze from the South, skies bleached white. One or two gulls really high up. By noon I had my coffee and let the white sea and sky clear my head of all the crummy baggage.

But as I watched, the white water rose up out of nowhere and exploded like a tremendous hand above me, arcs of water like fingers crashing down around me.

Suddenly my boat was two hundred feet up. Then I was deep underwater, watching as a giant sea turtle came towards me through the splinters of my shattered sailboat. I reached out and took hold of the turtle’s fin. He drew me quickly through the current then turned to look back at me with the face of a wise old man. No more mooks, I thought, grinning, as he pulled me into the darker and darker water.

TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF MY HUSBAND OR I’LL SHOOT! was a popular board game in the ‘40’s and ‘50’s. Malks walked past the store window displaying the game and its explicit (for its time) pieces, and headed instead to the massage parlor next door. Lying on the massage table he turned back to see if the girl was coming (she was taking her sweet time) and he saw a roach on the wall, burying its head in a crack, in apparent shame.

When the massage was over Malks was back out in the park feeding pigeons. They weren’t very hungry today though and he made himself get up and head to the movies: a black and white matinee titled, Thsyst Makneerz Knockorem which turned out to be a kind of erotic puppet show involving peasant girls with heaving wooden bosoms.

Walking back to his car Malks stopped. There was a beautiful girl, wearing nothing more than a yellow raincoat, galoshes, and a yellow rain hat, sitting on the hood of his car. You need to wax this thing, she said. It’s a little matte. Malks stared at her. They both got into the car and soon were kissing at a stoplight. You better start going, she said. The light just changed.

He accelerated, but didn’t get very far before they were kissing again. When the rain picked up they were out in it, leaving the car behind in a ditch. An alarm went off on Malk’s phone but he didn’t heed its important vibrations. He was too busy.

The sun set and it was still raining on their embrace.

When the moon rose they were still necking.

Finally at sunrise they got back in the car and drove to a place where they could sleep it off. Turned out to be her place. Quilts and macramé. But a welcome cup of hot tea. Malks relaxed. For the first time since the stock market crash. Which hadn’t affected him other than making him a little tense.

The girl stripped off her rain gear. Morning sun made her look exceedingly three dimensional. They shared a wry smile. They made love then went back outside. Where it was raining again.

Malk’s wife appeared with a gun, which made him remember the board game in the window display. She opened fire but they were too fast for her and took off into the night.

She came back later though and got them. She couldn’t really tell if she was happier after all the screaming and gunfire. She wiped her bloody hand on the plastic seat in the back of the cab. Central Park went by out the window. All kinds of people from all different backgrounds coming and going. She had the cab stop and went out into the throng in a better mood but still not “happy”.