Joko Read Free Page B

harder but realized that the arm that held him, while a good deal smaller than his, was much more powerful. Then, oddly, when Johnny’s mind registered fear, Jocko gently released his hand.
    Johnny fell backward then sat up and stared at Jocko.
    The ape-boy was stacking the straw over the nail in his cage, as Johnny had done.
    “You thanked me by returning my arm,” said Johnny.
    With the nail well padded, Jocko sat down and curled his knees toward his chest. He and Johnny spent several minutes simply staring at one another, studying each other’s faces.
    Jocko spoke, but not with human words. His voice reminded Johnny of a chimpanzee. But it was different, more human.
    “Poooaaaaamu Tsssstaaaa,” it said.
    “Poooaaaaamu Tsssstaaaa,” it repeated, looking at
    Johnny meaningfully.
    Johnny’s eyes widened. “What?”
    “Tssstaaa … Jonnni.”
    “You’re talkin’,” exclaimed Johnny, covering the top of his head with his hand. “I don’t believe it, no sir.”
    “Tssss ta Jonnii pooooaaaamu tsssaaaaah,” said Jocko, looking into Johnny’s eyes.
    Johnny was dumfounded. An animal had actually spoken to him. But he sobered a bit when he recalled what J.C. Craig had said; that the thing “might be part Indian, part bear.”
    Johnny could see that the ape-boy’s arms were longer in proportion to his body than a human’s but his legs were roughly the same. While thick black fur covered most of the animal’s back, his chest was bare in places. At the waist the hair began to grow longer than elsewhere on the beast’s body so his genitalia weren’t visible. His hands and feet were for the most part free of hair and the skin was like coffee with cream.
    “Tssss ta Jonnii,” the ape-boy repeated.
    No , thought Johnny, it’s not calling me by name. That couldn’t be . As it moved around in the cage, Johnny found the smell of the ape-boy strangely familiar yet decidedly unpleasant. In fact the shed was becoming unbearable for Johnny in spite of his fascination with Jocko. He walked over to the wall, pushed open the hinged boards that sealed the shed’s single window, and sniffed the sweet night air.
    And so did Jocko.

    Out there among the rocky pinnacles, the bluffs and the pines, out there under the moon, his people were moving.
    Moving far away. And every second that passed put Jocko farther away from them. One day he would leave, but it wasn’t supposed to be this way.
    Some minutes passed as Jocko gazed out the open window. He began to moan softly.

    Johnny sat down and listened. He knew there was nothing he could do for Jocko and he was becoming annoyed with his recurring impulse to release the ape. The night was closing in and he didn’t want to be alone. He looked around and found a dusty horse blanket. After shaking the dust out of it outside he went back to the side of Jocko’s cage. He saw another blanket and threw it to the edge of the cage. Jocko carefully let a finger glide through the bars and come to rest on the blanket. In a single stroke the finger curled and the blanket slid into the cage. Jocko looked at it and picked it up.
    He turned it over and over. A fat spider fell out and crawled toward the edge of the cage. Jocko picked it up and ate it, barely distracted from his examination of the blanket.
    The sound of it crunching between Jocko’s teeth nauseated Johnny at first, but Jocko’s matter-of-factness about it made the event easy to overlook. Johnny realized he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He decided to head over to the restaurant and bring back some real food for Jocko to try.
    Johnny smiled and got up. Jocko looked at him.
    “Some grub is what we need,” said Johnny, pointing to his mouth. Jocko looked at him blankly. “Some grub!” Johnny repeated, rubbing his stomach.
    “Oh, you’ll see soon enough, Jocko.” And Johnny left the shed.
    After the door closed Jocko looked at the lantern. He watched flies dance in the light.
    “Jo-ko,” he said.

    Johnny was back within