It's Dangerous To Monkey Around

Luwanda, you are one of the last of our civilization in the Free Zone. So much is on your shoulders. Blessings that you have been impregnated by Ruan. My sorrow pains me that he was struck down by the Baboon Watchers. Pity Ruan will never know the little one he fathered. All memories of him you will share with your child. He will live on through the youngin. Just as I protected you with my life and body so will you do the same for what’s yours.

I’m old, tired, baffled that I remain after so many generations have perished. I take in the air of those that should have lived beyond me. Praise be He to allow my life to span 125 years. I’ve been through tidal waves, earth modifications, tornadoes, and droughts. We are getting closer to the sun. The heat becoming unbearable. The time is here to share all I know about surviving the Baboon Rule. We were spared. You ask why? They called me Cookie on the marches. I pleased the discerning palate of the apes with my blending of vegetarian flavors mixed with creepy crawley creatures slow cooked over the fire. I learned to speak the language of the beasts. I shall teach you my recipes and you will endure.

Precious is this moment. Us together. My great, great, great grand daughter. You, from the fruit of my dear Sarah’s loins. Ah, must remember the love feeling. I hugged, kissed and laid together with my own love called husband. He pleased me and I him. We worked together in the fields. We offered some of our crop to those called neighbors. Music, dancing, stories around a fire delighted us. Something referred to as laughter filled our home. A cabin, not a cave, was warm from the fireplace that was indoors. We sat on wood chairs. We ate at a wood table. My husband, Josiah, was stated to be a craftsman.

So long ago. I remember my spouse’s eyes, his face. Soft and caring. I don’t see him very clearly any longer. Yet, before I pass, it will please me to tell you the tales of the sacred moments of love. To be loved, to love, are the gifts of joy. You feel your heartbeat increase and you experience your breathing pace erratic . Awareness when he is near. Loneliness when he is far. Sacrificing yourself to care for another. Let heaven and earth give blessings.

They are coming. The earth shutters under my feet. The rhythm of their movements. The rustle of the trees. The cry of hunger from the primates, “Hehehe whoo,” they cry out. This is to be your first lesson. Stoke the fire. Corral the insects, spiders, and bird’s eggs - wrap in the leaves of the banana plant. The chacma baboon has a huge appetite we must be ready.

Don’t you stare at me girl, move fast. They have no patience. You will never please them. Just do what they need, no more. They are suspicious. They suspect that we are sneaky, tricky. Our kind use to be that way. We were cruel to the monkeys and the baboons. They were locked in cages and our people came and looked and laughed at them. The Great Time Era came and they broke out of the zoos and ran from the jungles into our lands. They burst into our civilization and took commanding control. Now we serve them. You hear me. You listen. Time is fleeting for me. Never look at their eyes - keep your eyes to the ground in their presence.

When we were free we disrespected our own ways. We took up guns and shot each other. Many times for no reason. Mean, madness, cruelty we spread throughout. We only tolerated our own kind. No feeling for those different than ourselves. The ape world watched and one day they took over our villages, towns, cities, states and our countries and those across the seas. They herded us into the cages that once held them. They came in packs and stared and laughed at us. Our homes became their homes. Often we thought we were related to the primates from civilizations thousands of years ago. The monkeys and the baboons were listening. They were taking it all in. They waited patiently. Gathering their powers for the right time. We lost everything. Our young were taken from us and raised as their own. They learned to think like the baboons, act like the monkeys and disregard their kind. The reign of the apes became more powerful. They instituted rules and they followed their leaders. They gained strength and took over our factories, communication systems, food gathering. They had been fine observers.

Now, the few of our kind that remain rot quietly in the cages. Imprisoned in the world we had allowed them. We now inhabit the jungles, running from the hunters. Evading capture in the trees, seeking shelter in caves. It is no use they have superior tactics to catch up with us. They know the terrain. The primates remember how we treated them and they have been taught the cruelty of man and turned it back on man himself.

There is no way out. Just persevere and create concoctions for them to savor as they dine at the tables we once broke bread at, in the places we called home. One day you will be named Cookie after I’m gone. The key to your survival is to please those of the Baboon Rule. Hush now. Listen, they are close. They run towards the aroma boiling over the fire. Eyes down. You noticed? Yes, the Honorable One wears my gold heart shaped locket. He liked it. He took it. What do I need it for anyway? Welcome them and live.