What the heck?

We were just moseying along through the woods when something flew fast and low over my head. It was screeching as it flew over. I felt the burst of air as it passed by, which gave me the willies. The whole incident did. The screeching was blood-curdling, especially as it was a few inches over my head. I would have stopped to ponder what had just happened and exactly where we were, but we saw - and heard - another one coming through. We heard it first, and by now Ben was paying rapt attention. He studied it as it came closer, though its flight was more like a Concorde than a biplane, so he didn’t have much time.

Maybe it was the same one, we had no idea, but it was definitely flying right at us, screeching again. We ducked, as it flew lower this time, but at least we had a chance to get a look at it. It was, without question, a flying monkey. Believe me, I know how bizarre that sounds. But you weren’t there. When, exactly, monkeys began to fly, and what else might dive-bomb us were questions I pondered for the very first time.

The monkey landed in the bushes twenty feet away. If I was not mistaken, it didn’t have wings. Instead, it had on a black cape. And I’m pretty sure that it was wearing a mask. Talk about bizarre. Again, I wondered just what kind of place was this? And why didn’t the monkey want to be recognized?

Ben wanted to chase it down, but I wouldn’t let him, as I thought staying together was a better plan. What was happening? Where were we? Suddenly I knew nothing.

I was about to loosen my grip on him and take a step when two of them came flying in from different directions. One skimmed my hair and I thought it was going to get tangled up and then bite me. They both screeched as they passed over, just like before. I was dry-heaving from the sheer panic of the thought of one of these monsters getting stuck in my hair. I was now officially at a loss. For words, for appropriate actions, you name it. This was definitely NOT in the brochure and I had no idea what to do. Getting out of there was the best that I could come up with.

Maybe it was my imagination, but as I looked around, I swore I could see the beady little eyes of flying monkeys in all of the trees and that their screeching had taken on a ominous sound. Their screeching was human-like. That made no sense, because I know for a fact that monkeys lack the components to emulate human sound. Of course, I was pretty sure monkeys couldn’t fly either…. So what sounded like 1,000 monkeys chanting “Beth, Beth, Beth, Beth, Beth” had to be something else. Something with a logical explanation like….well, I don’t know what, but it couldn’t possibly be screaming, flying monkeys chanting my name. Of that I was sure.

Ben didn’t seem so sure. He was craning his neck and looking all around to determine where the sound came from. It seemed to come from everywhere, all at once. And the smell. It was distinctive. It smelled of a pine forest, rather nice except for the association of the terrifying monkeys. I was expecting them to grab us both and take us to the witch.

Suddenly there must have been twenty or more monkeys in the air. This looked like a coordinated attack and while I wouldn’t have expected monkeys to be able to plan such a thing, here I was in the middle of it. They came from all directions, screaming and chanting my name all the while. This was starting to get really weird. Ben was about to go ballistic, and I struggled to help him stay calm, as I didn’t see what was to be gained by attacking one monkey out of an army of them. At least I had something to focus on aside from the surreal situation we were in.

I screamed when something touched my shoulder, expecting this was it- one of the monkeys finally had me - and I was about to learn my fate. It was a tree branch. What a relief. Now to grab Ben before he did something brave and stupid. Aren’t males pathetic? Always trying to be brave and save the day?

I latched on to him and we decided to make a run for it. How far to get out of the clearing? Maybe another thirty feet. We weren’t sure what getting into the bushes would get us, but it had to be better than being sitting ducks in the clearing. We were still surrounded by the screamers and the occasional monkey flew by, but we reached the edge of the clearing without too much difficulty. It was pure fight or flight at this point. And we had chosen flight. At least so far. We may have to fight yet, but so far fleeing was our best option. We had just gotten to the edge of the clearing when Ben snapped. I think one monkey too many had buzzed him and he turned around, snarling. He grabbed the monkey, it was still in the air. I was surprised at his reflexes. Rather cat- like, I’d say, which is just a bit ironic.

Now that he had a monkey he began to shake it wildly. The monkey went limp. It didn’t stop screaming, however. The third or fourth shake, one of its arms (paws?) went flying. He was actually dismembering the monkey. It was screaming the whole while. The flying mask went off in the opposite direction. Still screaming, the monkey’s innards started to fly. Except they weren’t bloody, they were white, cottony balls of fluff flying all over as Ben whipped his head back and forth.

Only then did I see the pack of fourth graders, Mrs. Meisenheimer’s class, leaving the clearing to head back to class, recess - and one of their toys - finished for the afternoon. Ben had scattered the pieces of the monkey all over the clearing. All that was left in his mouth was a plastic motion-activated voice box, still screeching. And then, even that flew out of his mouth, hit a tree and fell silent.

Copyright, Antigone Lett, 2007