Monkey Brains

Travis Flynn

             There aren't many things a mother can say to cause her child to lock himself in his bedroom, pull his quilt over his head, and pretend that today is just another word for tomorrow. Yet, in one peculiar Connecticut home, a mother strove to fulfill her innate destiny. It was this reason that any young and curious Flynn would walk hesitantly through the hallway Sunday afternoon, crossing his fingers just before entering the cook's domain.

            “What are we having for dinner?”

            “We're having your favorite, monkey brains.”

            My favorite? My favorite?

            “How about hamburgers?”

            “I already bought all the brains at the store. You wouldn't want all those monkeys to have died for nothing, now, wouldja? There are people in China who would love to eat monkey brains. Besides, last time you liked it.”

            “No. I wouldn't eat them last week.”

            “But you did on Tuesday.”

            “Tuesday I had tacos… No. No! You tricked me!”

            How could I have been so foolish? The cheese, the sour cream, the lettuce—the perfect disguise. Had I been too busy inspecting the spots on the tomatoes to notice the wretched odor that surrounded the meat? As I began to retract to my room, my composure returned.

            “That's impossible,” my voice echoed through the hallway. “Man could search his entire life for a fouler smelling food. No disguise—not the sharpest of cheese, nor the purest of sour cream, nor the ripest of lettuce—could cover up that wretched odor. It would climb the highest mountain, cross the widest river, survive the harshest of winds, for just one last dance through my nostrils.”

            “I can't hear a word you're saying. You'll have to come closer.”

            “I said that wasn't monkey brains.”

            “Well, you caught me. But it isn't that much different.”

            Not much different?

            “What if you were a monkey—would you want people eating your brains?”

            “Honey, what makes you think of a silly thing like that?”

            “Monkeys have feelings too! On the Discovery Channel, there were two monkeys—a mommy monkey and a daddy monkey. The mommy monkey died, and then the daddy monkey died two days later of a broken heart.”

            Yeah, it was a low blow, but most wars are fought in the trenches…

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