Wow. It’s been a while since I’ve written. I know you’re wondering why, thinking, “Cyrus must have been doing something great. Maybe he helped deliver a baby or something.” Actually, I’m recovering from getting beat up by a chimpanzee.
If you remember, two weeks ago Rex Tugwell invited us to monkey wrestling “down at the airport.” I didn’t want to go, figuring that monkey wrestling was really code for some kind of metaphorical but nevertheless public de-pantsing at the hands of Rex. Both Sammy and Boyce, however, were excited to go.
I was none too excited that we had to go with Rex Tugwell, nor could I understand why he was inviting us in the first place. But when he told us to pick him up about a mile away from the airport, I figured why: if the police showed up he wouldn’t have to worry about his car being identified. Boyce said he’d bring his van since he was angry about the threat of going to part-time work, so we all sat in the back as he drove us to the airport.
Our city has a small municipal airport, and just to the west of it are a series of hangars for little prop planes. Rex pointed us to the last one where some cars were parked out back. We went into the hangar to find about three dozen men standing around a boxing ring. They were just drinking, but I got the feeling that something incredibly disturbing was happening. Like when I was a kid and woke up in the middle of the night to see my uncle’s car entirely on its side in our front yard, and he there digging a hole and laughing.
We walked with Rex who would high-five random people or call them horrible names and laugh with his mouth way too open to trust him as anything but ready to eat his own arm. In one corner of the ring was a small metal cage, and Rex told us there’s the monkey. It had just enough room in the cage to turn around. Sammy said it was actually a chimpanzee, and Rex said, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Rex told us that you paid twenty-five dollars to enter the ring. The monkey would be released and if you could stay in the ring with it for one minute then you won a thousand dollars. The only thing was, you had to put your money down before the first guy ever gets in the ring.
Rex begged us to put our money down, and Sammy, who was really trying to get a good look at the chimp, as though it’s height might change whether he entered or not, decided first. He told Boyce he had to do it, and Boyce said fine. Rex told me that he was willing to pay my money if I entered. It didn’t take much to convince me. Even though most things make me nervous and scared, I do them anyway. We went to the ring and got a good view to watch the first guy with the chimp.
The first guy was bigger than Boyce. He was really serious, spitting into his hands and trying to get a good footing on the mat. I watched the owner of the chimp shouting at it until suddenly a bell rang and the front of the cage slid straight up. I don’t know how fast normal chimpanzees are, but I had to assume that this one had eaten the four other fastest chimps. In two strides it was across the ring and latched to the man’s face and neck like the way a starfish sucks onto a rock. The man immediately fell on his back, and the chimp began pummeling him on the sides of the head. The bell rang again and immediately the chimp jumped off the man and ran back into his cage where the gate slid back down. The man lying on the mat looked hurt, but more than anything he looked scared—like he’d reached down to pick a flower and came back without an arm. They dragged him off the mat and when he stumbled by us Sammy asked him if he had any advice. I don’t think he heard us since he just kept waving his hands in the air. Rex couldn’t stop laughing, but Boyce, Sammy, and I were scared. Sammy guessed that this wasn’t animal cruelly since clearly nothing was ever going to happen to the chimp.
(For an example of a chimp fight)
Seven more men were pummeled in like fashion, though to the chimp’s credit he always jumped off them when the bell rang. No one got too hurt, though one guy did lose two teeth which really freaked out Boyce. Rex asked if I was going to chicken out and I told him I most certainly would. Surprisingly, when Sammy was informed he was next he didn’t hesitate to jump into the ring. He walked up to the chimp’s owner and spoke to him for a second, then leaned down to talk to the chimp. Before he left Sammy told us his strategy was to befriend the chimp. He had a candy bar in his pocket that he had unwrapped, and when he spoke with the owner, he snuck the chimp a piece. As he walked away to his corner of the ring he winked at us. When the bell rang he was going to offer the chimp the rest of the candy bar, thus winning without either fighting or defending himself.
Waiting for the bell he took the candy bar out of his pocket and waved it at the chimp. The bell rang and the chimp burst out of his cage. Sammy didn’t even have time to extend his arm with the candy bar. In pure defense he simply chucked the candy bar at the chimp and then heaved himself over the top rope. He landed hard on a foldout table and knocked over quite a few drinks, but no matter because everyone thought it was hilarious. Everyone was cheering him and patting him on the back for such an absurd, doomed strategy. Sammy held his arms up to the roar of the crowd.
There was another guy to go before Boyce, so we thought to talk strategy. Boyce thought the best thing to do was just try to give an enormous kick to the chimp on its way over to him. We told him if he did that he’d never be able to get over the ropes before the chimp began punishing him with those meathooks. Boyce just shrugged though. When the guy before him got slaughtered, Boyce put a huge wad of gum between his front teeth and gums, then climbed into the ring.
Just before the bell rang Boyce put his right leg back to get ready to kick. He looked like someone who really wanted to kick a long field goal. As soon as the bell rang he started to kick. I don’t even think the chimp was out of his cage before the kick was half-over. That chimp though was so fast that Boyce actually timed it perfectly and kicked that chimp square in the face. It fell over to his side and Boyce just stood there, kind of stunned. Then the chimp got up, stared at Boyce for a few seconds, and rushed him. Boyce didn’t waste any time and dove out of the ring. The crowd cheered for him because he’d made it the longest: 14 seconds, and half of that was just the chimp staring at him in a you-know-I’m-going-to-eat-your-eyes-out-for-that-right? kind of way.
Rex informed me that I was next and both Boyce and Sammy, sensing my lack of resolve, told me to stand right at the ropes, and as soon as the bell rang to just get out of there. That way when we told the story to people I could always say I did it too. I thought it was better than my plan of simply screaming at the chimp until I blacked out. I climbed in the ring.
Whenever I have to do something I don’t want to do, I always imagine I’m doing it for Rachel. Even if it’s washing a ton of dishes, I think, “No Cyrus, you do this for her.” And even though I knew Rachel would be horrified to know I was attempting to wrestle a caged, undoubtedly ’roid-raging chimp, I still thought to myself in the ring, “No Cyrus, you do this for her.” Even when I looked back and saw Rex Tugwell talking with other people and laughing, knowing full well he just wanted to see me hurt in a way that 24 hours earlier I didn’t even know existed, I still said, “No Cyrus, you do this for her.”
I wished for just a second that ornithology had some kind of crossover to primates. If I were forced to fight an osprey I could at least know where to try for a lucky hit. The chimp seemed impenetrable. I thought the eyes and groin were the universal weak points, but going after the chimp’s eyes seemed ungentlemanly. Besides, I’m sure others thought the same thing only to be faced with a brute force that makes the mind go blank and the bladder go empty. Nothing three feet tall should be able to pile drive a three hundred pound man. Even the largest guy of the night, some 400 pound man who thought he’d just fall on his foe, learned that a chimp can punch through several layers of fat to make a man scream, “My liver! He burst my liver!”
Sometimes it seemed like the chimp was just messing with the contestants, and I expected him to do the same thing. It spun one guy around twice before it finally just grabbed him by the foot and dragged him to the ground where it leaped on top of him. Another guy tried to run away and the chimp jumped on his back. For a good five seconds it just rode him as though to say, “Where are we going, friend?” Then, suddenly, it punched him several times in the back of the head.
I wondered what undignified move the chimp would do to me. The whole night it had never gone for a man’s groin. It was either a noble, principled fighter or simply saving its crotch attack for the final fight of the night, which was of course me. I whispered one last time that this was all for Rachel, and then the bell rang.
I just kind of screamed “Oh dear God!” at the top of my lungs and turned to climb the turnstile. I didn’t think anything, even when I felt the chimp jump on my back. I just kept screaming uncontrollably. Everything went white and I was later told the chimp had rammed its forehead into the back of my skull. I have no idea why it would do this instead of punching or biting—what analysis did it do while riding my back to think that trying to break my skull with its skull was the best maneuver? Whatever the case was I saw white for a second and fell over to my side. I was not aware of this at the time but I twisted as I fell, and actually landed on the chimp. It’s head must have hit funny because it was dazed for a second.
Feeling no primate on my back, I stood up and realized I was in the middle of the ring. The chimp was getting up and I panicked. I don’t know why I did what I did. I had watched Boyce, Sammy, and many others leap out of the ring at the very first opportunity. Why didn’t I leap? My God, why? I don’t know. But with reeling tunnel vision, all I saw was that chimp dazed for a second and, inside my skull, on the opposite side where the chimp headbutted me, were the letters R-A-C-H-E-L. I didn’t even see her, just the letters. And suddenly, without thinking, I just kicked the chimp as hard as I could right in the chin.
The crowd cheered and I realized that maybe I could do it. Maybe I could beat this chimp. But as it was getting back up someone shouted “45 more seconds!” 45?! That had only been 15 seconds? Again, I’m not sure with a second opportunity why I did not simply leap out of the ring. Instead, I ran. And for whatever reason, I ran straight for the chimp’s cage and dove into it. The chimp saw me and started bounding over to me. I reached up and from pure adrenaline broke the latches on the gate and pulled it down and shut. Since I’d broken the latch I had to hold the gate down because the chimp—well, he really wanted in that cage. I think I broke some cardinal rule in monkey fighting because that chimp was seriously pissed. He was pummeling my fingers that were holding on to the bars to keep the gate down, but I had to hold on. At one point he jumped on top of the cage and reached down to tear my ears off. I had to lean way down. Even at the time I was able to think that very few people have had a seriously pissed chimp screaming at them from above their head. You know what, though? I have.
For 45 seconds that chimp punched my hands and swiped at me. When the bell rang he suddenly went docile but damned if I was going to open that cage gate. I didn’t let go and let it up until the chimp owner got into the ring, screaming at me that I cheated. Others though were screaming that the cage was in the ring, and nothing said I couldn’t hide in there. Sammy, Boyce, and even Rex helped me out and were checking me over since I was bleeding in a few places. They were all so happy they couldn’t stop giggling. After a while some guy came over and asked if I would accept $750 dollars, and I said that was fine. They gave it to me in cash, and everyone there came by to congratulate me. Not since my uncle’s funeral have drunk strangers been so kind to me. People patted me lightly saying how great it was to see the chimp not be able to get me crying in that cage.
Boyce and Sammy agreed it was just about the single most greatest thing they’d ever seen. Rex told me he would cover for me for a few days to give me a chance to heal, and then he gave me a big, but soft hug. Someone in the background was singing the “You’re the best” song from The Karate Kid, and we kept up with that for much of the night.
That was a couple weeks ago, and things have gotten back to normal. None of my injuries were so severe I needed to see a doctor, so I just spent a lot of time watching birds and thinking. My hands have been pretty beat up so I haven’t been able to type. Now things are getting back to normal though. Even Rex is starting to treat me mean again, though some times when he finishes a three-minute speech about my masculinity, he finishes with, “Dang, that chimp was pissed, Virus.”
