Love Me Like Ivan
By Jake Kolasa
“If we look straight and deep into a chimpanzee's eyes, an intelligent self-assured personality looks back at us. If they are animals, what must we be?”
-Frans de Waal, primatologist
“Cuh-lancy Kawajiri! You ate all the goddamn apple pie!” Rachel Kawajiri grabbed the empty pie tray from the kitchen window sill, still hot but licked clean. She stomped her way to the bottom of the steps and held her hands on her hips, waiting for a response. She heard a door slowly creak open, and saw a light cast itself over the darkness of the upstairs hall. Her son appeared, a half-white, half-Japanese boy as short as a folding chair, with droopy black hair that created a curly, three-pronged fork on his forehead. He was wearing purple and yellow striped pajamas with a yellow nightcap.
“Oh, my sweet, sweet mother of mine,” Clancy said. “How could I have eaten your pie when I’ve been in my room all morning? Besides, even if I did, it’s only because your apple pie is so scrumptiously delectable!”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Since you’re up, why don’t you come down and help your mother make a new apple pie?”
As Rachel walked back to the kitchen, she heard a thump hit the ceiling. When Clancy is told that he has chores, he flops onto the ground like a fish.
“Oh, Mother, you cannot be serious!” Rachel heard Clancy say.
“I am dead serious, boy!” said Rachel. “Come down here and help your mother bake!” Rachel could hear Clancy moaning and rolling on the floor, making a rhythmic thump every time he bumped into his dresser and the wall. “When the hell did my son start talking like some kinda 15th century Shakespeare actor?” Rachel wondered. But Rachel knew the date of Clancy’s change in speech; she just never liked to think about it. Clancy began talking that way after his father and Rachel’s husband, Daisuke, left for a two-month long business trip.
Rachel pulled a box of cigarettes from her pocket and lit one, inhaling from it. After grabbing the remote, she turned on the living room television and changed channels to the news. An emergency report was playing.
“Urgent news for residents of Shaker Hills. A chimpanzee named Ivan has escaped from the Louisville Zoo and is currently on a rampage throughout the Kentucky countryside. He has already made his way through Lexington, where police failed to apprehend him and two officers were seriously injured. He was last spotted eating someone’s cat in Harrodsburg, however his current whereabouts are unknown. He is described by his zookeepers as a wild, deranged, crazy, borderline insane individual who poses a great threat to human society. All residents of central Kentucky should exercise extreme caution when outside their places of residence. When you are home, keep all of your windows and doors locked. Stay safe out there, everybody.”
Rachel turned off the television. She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Well, there goes the neighborhood! Kentucky! The chimpanzee capital of the world!” She walked back over to the stairs and banged on the wall. “C’mon, Clancy, chop chop!”
“Be patient, mom!” said Clancy. “I was not expecting to do work at 9:34 AM on a Saturday morning!”
“Oh, just get your butt down here!”
The eleven-year-old trotted his way down the stairs, wearing a green cap with a yellow brim, as well as a green shirt and orange shorts. “What a waste of a Saturday morning.” He had been wearing colorful getups a lot lately. Before his older sister Haruka left for college last year, Clancy asked her what she thought of his look. She told him that he looked like a walking pride flag for ADHD. His apparel clashed with his mother’s choice of a dirty apron.
Rachel folded her arms and put a big smile on her face. “Alrighty! You wanna grease up a pie tray for me?”
Clancy tilted his head back and sighed. “Yes, Mother.”
Rachel patted him on the back. “That’s my boy.”
“Clancy, for the love of God! What are you doing with the pie?”
As they were walking to the car, Clancy was attempting to balance the apple pie on the top of his cap. “Tell me, Mother dearest, why did we bake a pie so early on a Saturday!”
Rachel sighed. “It’s for Sharon, my new regional manager.”
Clancy looked at Rachel with his mouth agape. It was as if she wore a dunce cap and had buck teeth. “Your new manager wants you to bake her a pie on a Saturday?”
“I made the mistake of bringing a pie to her welcoming party.”
“Your new manager got her own welcoming party?”
“She organized her own welcoming party, and it was a mandatory event for all employees. She liked my pie so much she asked if I would bake her another one. I was too scared to say no so I agreed. She then asked if I could bring it over Saturday morning and, well, yeah, I was too scared to say no.”
Clancy squinted and he gritted his teeth. “So your boss organized her own welcoming party, forced you to attend, and you made a pie for her? And now, poor little me had to wake up early on a Saturday just to bring her another–”
“Why don’t I ask you something?” said Rachel as she opened the driver’s door. “Why are you talking that way?”
“What way?” asked Clancy.
“Everything you’ve said today has been really wordy, and overly formal. That’s not how me or Daisuke taught you to speak, is it?”
Clancy shrugged. “I’ve always spoken this way, Mother dearest.”
Rachel pointed at Clancy as they both sat down in the car. “See? Right there! You never call me ‘Mother dearest!’”
“I haven’t a clue what to say to you Mother, this is how I’ve always spoken.”
“No! Before now, the words coming out of your mouth have consisted of ‘freak,’ ‘moron,’ and ‘nimrod!’”
Clancy smiled and shook his head. “I apologize that my superior vocabulary doesn’t compute with your lesser mind.”
“Hey!” Rachel held her finger inches from Clancy’s nose. “Don’t you dare speak to your mother that way.”
Clancy’s eyes shook and his breath quickened as he looked down at his mom’s finger, as if it was about to stab into his brain. He cleared his throat and slumped back into his seat. “Yes, Mother dearest.”
Rachel turned back towards the wheel and began to roll the car out of the driveway. She drove down the street in the direction of Sharon’s house.
“By the way, I want you to be the one who gives the pie to Sharon, okay?”
Clancy stared straight forward. “Absolutely not.”
“C’mon, little man. She’ll absolutely love it if she gets to meet my children.”
“I should not be the one to do it. I bet I’ll do something erratic or crazy. I bet she will hate me.”
“But you’re as cute as a button!”
“I’m as ugly as a big, fat, greasy pig.”
Rachel frowned. “Do it or I’ll take away your yoyo collection for a week.”
Clancy turned to Rachel with a horrified expression on his face. “You would not dare!”
“I would dare. C’mon Clancy, do your mom a favor.”
Clancy groaned and threw himself back into his seat. “Fine. I’ll hand over the freaking pie.”
“Thank you,” said Rachel. Clancy rested his chin on his elbow and looked outside the window, resting his eyes on the golden hills of Shaker Hills, Kentucky. Shaker Hills was very much in the southern part of Kentucky, yet had somehow become a popular place of residence for people from Louisville, Lexington, and Cincinnati, any city dwellers who wanted a taste of country life. Before its residential boom, most people living there lived in mobile homes, and spent their days fishing, smoking, and working at the local Dollar General. Now, the city was filled with local businesses started by people from Lexington, such as Cole’s Colossal Cookies and Jim’s Ginormous Gym. Clancy noticed a cattle fence had been torn down and two farmers scratching their heads nearby.
“Mother, why do we live here?” asked Clancy.
“What do you mean?” asked Rachel.
“Dad’s Japanese. What inclined him to move to Shaker Hills, aka the middle of uncultured, nowhere Kentucky? I thought he was from Tokyo.”
Rachel shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I met him in Japan while I was studying abroad, and I told him I was from Kentucky, and he was, like, super interested, y’know? He started asking all kinds of questions, about the environment, about the food. I guess he was interested in country culture.”
Clancy rubbed his chin. “Fascinating.”
“I’ve never heard you say the word ‘fascinating’ in your life. Anyways, after we fell in love, we decided to get married, and, well, move here. It’s funny too, I mean my family isn’t originally from Kentucky.”
They drove in silence for a moment before Rachel turned on the radio. The newscaster said, “Ivan is currently trapped inside a gas station where he was committing armed robbery. He is facing off with a SWAT team, who have him at gunpoint. We will update you as the situation progresses.”
Clancy spoke up. “Do you know when Dad’s coming home?”
Rachel sighed. “I don’t know, honey. You know his business trips take a long time.”
“But he’s been in Dhaka for like, three whole months!”
“I know, sweetie. How about we give him a call tonight? See when he’ll be back?”
Clancy folded his arms. “It’s so boring at home with him gone, there’s nothing to do.”
“The two of us could always do something together. We could always bake more pies!”
“Baking is a dreadfully boring activity! And doing something entertaining is no longer an option, Mother! Because you have a job now. Why do you even need that? I thought dad made a six-figure salary.”
Rachel turned the car onto the street of Sharon’s house. “Well, if we’re both working, then we get to make even more money. And we get to buy you even more presents and cool stuff than normal, right? Hey! More expensive yoyos?”
Clancy slumped his face onto the passenger seat window, resting his chin on his arm. “Oh, Mother. You don’t understand. What’s the point of doing yoyo tricks if no one’s around to see them?”
Rachel’s eyebrows drooped as she looked at Clancy. “I’m sorry, baby.” She pulled the car into Sharon’s driveway. She noticed the garbage cans had been knocked over, with trash spilling out. The car of Sharon’s husband, Howard, had its tires slashed. “Alright, this is it!”
“Oh, great,” said Clancy.
“Hey, it’ll only take a second. Just put on a happy face for a little bit, okay?”
Clancy sighed. “If I must.” He put on the widest, fakest looking smile one could muster.
Rachel snickered. “You don’t have to lay it on that thick.” They got out of the car and walked to Sharon’s front door. Clancy held the pie like it was a screaming baby that needed a diaper change, with his arms stuck out straight forward. Rachel pushed the doorbell, which began to play the melody of “Heaven is a Place on Earth.”
“On my way to the front door now!” Rachel and Clancy could hear a clicking noise getting closer to the door. When it opened, Clancy’s face went pale. What they saw was a clown. A clown with five different puddles of makeup on its face, one on each eye, one on each cheek, and one on its lips. It was a clown who wore a leopard print robe and high heels at 10:45 AM on a Saturday.
“Oh. My. Good. Ness! Is that Rachel Kawajiri I see?” said the clown.
“Yes, it is. Hi Sharon.”
“Wow! Up and early on this Saturday morning I see? Making breakfast? Cleaning carpets? Doing what us tiger moms do best?” Sharon nudged Rachel on the shoulder.
“Heh. Yeah.” Rachel stood there in silence. Sharon stared back at her, smiling. She was showing off all of her teeth. She did not blink. Rachel coughed. “I brought you an apple pie.” She motioned towards Clancy.
Clancy raised the pie in the air. “Here you are, ma’am.”
When Sharon noticed Clancy standing there with the pie, her eyes opened as far as they could go. Her mouth fell open and she began to let out a high pitched squeal. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Clancy had killed her. Sharon’s squeal went silent for a moment before it morphed into an ear-splitting screech. “Oh, my, gracious! Aren’t you just the most cutest, most adorkable thing on two legs!”
“Indubitably,” said Clancy.
“Ha ha, yeah, that’s my son, Clancy,” said Rachel.
“Ack! Ugh! Oh my god, you are just so precious!” Sharon reached out her hands, her nails colored pink and purple. She put her hands on Clancy’s face and began to roll it like pizza dough.
“Oh my,” said Clancy. Sharon continued to squeeze Clancy’s cheeks, staring at his face. Clancy was desperately trying to find a place to look that wasn’t Sharon’s face.
Rachel lightly tugged on Sharon’s robe. “Alright, alright, Sharon, hehe, I think that’s enough.”
Sharon took the apple pie and turned back to Rachel. “Oh, I wish my son was as cute as yours! My son’s quite big for his age. He’s taller and rounder than your Clancy, even though he’s only seven. But he’s growing, you know!”
“Yeah, I’ll bet he is!” said Rachel.
“Y’know, him and Clancy should hang out sometime! Play some games and whatever else it is you youngsters do! By the way his name is Free River, me and Howard wanted to give him a Native American-sounding name, y’know it really enhances his spirit–”
“Well that sounds great, Sharon, but me and cute little Clancy here actually need to get home. We have a lot of work around the house to do, don’t we Clancy?”
“You are absolutely correct,” said Clancy.
“Oh, okay then! Thank you for the apple pie! And bye bye my wittle Cwancy!” Sharon bent over and flapped her hand towards Clancy. Rachel pushed Clancy down the porch steps and to the passenger’s side door before getting into the driver’s seat. She pulled the car out of the driveway and drove her son away from the clown.
Clancy held his hands on his cheeks, which were pinched red. “Your boss is a total asshole.”
“Hey, don’t use that word. Little boys shouldn’t say that word.” said Rachel. “Look, I’m sure you’ll never forgive me for what I just put you through, but at least don’t use bad words.”
Clancy rubbed his chin and looked at the ceiling of the car. “Your boss is pretty much a freaking pinhead.”
Rachel smiled and rubbed Clancy’s cap. “That’s my boy.”
They drove in silence for a moment before Clancy asked, “Wait, did you say you are not originally from Kentucky?”
“Yeah, I did,” said Rachel. “My family’s from South Africa. Heck, my last name was Jonker before I married your father!”
“Hee hee, Jonker,” said Clancy.
“What’s that? You think your mom’s maiden name is funny?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
Rachel chuckled and rolled her eyes. Silence enveloped the inside of the car.
As they were driving back home, Clancy noticed Pam’s Pantastic Paninis. “Mother, stop there,” he said. “I want a buffalo chicken panini.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “I’ll just make you lunch when we get home. Also, didn’t you fill up on pie this morning?”
Clancy blinked. “You’re not gonna stop to get me a panini? Erm, awkward?”
“What? Look, let’s go home. We even have a panini press, I can just make you one. How does cheese, tomatoes, and ham sound?”
Clancy gave out a deep breath. “You don’t understand it, Mother. I need a buffalo chicken panini from Pam’s Pantastic Paninis.”
“You need one?”
“Yes!”
“Since when did you even start eating paninis?”
Clancy put his hands on his head and let out a yell. “Must you always question my lifestyle choices? Oh, vocabulary this, and cheese, tomato and ham that! Why do you always control my life? I want, no, need a buffalo chicken panini from Pam’s Pantastic Paninis, and I need it now!”
“Oh, son of a-!” Rachel sped up. She drove the car into the parking lot of Pam’s Pantastic Paninis, wincing at the sound of Clancy’s raised voice. There was a spot next to a car that had a brick thrown through the front window.
“Alrighty then,” said Rachel without moving her lips. “Let’s go in and get the panini.”
“Oh, actually Mother, could you go in and get it? Due to, let’s say, certain events that occurred this morning, I’m feeling rather shy.” Clancy smirked.
Rachel had to stop herself from throwing her head into the steering wheel.
“Yes dear. Let me go get that for you.” Rachel got out of the car and walked into Pam’s Pantastic Paninis. She had to wait in line for thirty minutes. When she finally had Clancy’s panini, she handed it to him and drove the two of them home. Clancy stayed in his room the rest of the day. Rachel turned on the television which was set to the news station.
The newscaster said, “For those of you just now tuning in, Ivan has escaped the shoot-out with the SWAT team. All members of the team are in critical condition.”
Rachel switched to a different channel, then resigned herself to her recliner for the rest of the afternoon, smoking and watching reality television.
Rachel waited until 10:30 PM to call Daisuke, just to make sure he was awake. She listened to his cellphone’s ringtone for a few seconds until she heard the sound of Daisuke picking up the phone. “Hi Honey!” Daisuke said through the poor reception.
“Hey, baby, how are you doing?” she said. She heard people laughing in the background.
“What? Oh, yes, I’m good!”
“That’s good to hear!”
“Yeah!”
The phone conversation grew silent.
“Did you need some–” Daisuke asked. “Honey?”
“Yeah! I’m sorry if I caught you at a bad time, I know you have work. Clancy was wondering when you’d be back from your trip. He says it’s been lonely at the house since I got a job. I think he misses you, babe. And it isn’t just that. He’s just been a lot since you’ve been gone.”
Daisuke’s reception suddenly improved. “Really?”
“Yeah. He’s been getting into all these weird new hobbies, talking like a Greek philosopher, eating new foods. I can’t keep up with him all on my own. I really need you around here.”
“Oh, I’m sorry honey. I hate to say it, but I don’t think I’ll be back in Kentucky for another two to three months.”
Rachel gave a deep breath and held her face in her hand.
“No, this isn’t right. I should be back there with you all. I miss Shaker Hills.”
Rachel smiled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, I really do. Especially the food!”
Daisuke did eat her pies when he was here. “Yeah?”
“You know how much I love Pam’s Pantastic Paninis!”
Rachel’s smile faded. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Right. Of course. How could I forget?” Rachel heard more laughing and people talking. She heard Daisuke laugh into the phone at one point.
“Well listen, honey, I’ve got to go. We have a really busy day ahead of us.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “What? I thought you didn’t have work for another hour.”
“Well, you know how they are.” Daisuke’s reception weakened. “Always pushing us. They are a bunch of pushers.”
“Oh, um, okay.”
More laughing came from Daisuke’s line. “I’m sorry, you know how they are. Love you sweetie!”
“Love you too! Goodbye–”
Rachel was interrupted by Daisuke hanging up. She held her face in her hands. “Oh, God.”
Suddenly, the phone rang again. She picked it up and held it against her face. “Hello?”
“Hi Rachel!” It was Sharon.
“Oh, hello.”
“I’ll make this quick– there was an issue with the apple pie, you see. My sweet baby Free River had a piece and said he didn’t like it. Tragic! When my boy doesn’t like something, I don’t like something!”
“Uh, okay.”
“Is it possible you could make us a new pie? And you don’t screw it up this time?”
“I suppose I can, Sharon.”
“Do you think you could make it by tomorrow morning?”
“I mean, yeah I–”
“Perfecto! Thank you so much! Me and my boy will be waiting for it!”
“I’ll have it ready tomorrow morning, Sharon.”
“As you should, Rachel! I believe in you! You won’t screw it up this time!”
“Thanks for the encouragement.”
“No problem! Toodles!” Sharon hung up.
Rachel put the phone down and walked back over to the recliner. She fell back into it, sighing and rubbing her forehead. She fell asleep in a matter of minutes.
Sunday morning Rachel jolted awake, still in her recliner. She groaned and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. The clock said it was 8:00 AM. She got up from the recliner and began putting together ingredients for an apple pie.
“Remember Rachel, don’t screw it up this time!” she said, shaking her head. My God, why did Sharon have to be her boss? After making the crust and putting the ingredients together, she put the pie in the oven. She flipped on the television to the news, to have it playing in the background. One hour later, she opened the window and set the pie on the sill. She leaned against the kitchen counter and lit a cigarette, setting the box and the lighter down onto the counter. As she waited for the pie to cool, she heard the sound of aluminum scraping behind her. Rachel turned on her heel to see that once again the pie had been completely eaten.
“What the hell?” Rachel held the pie tray in her hand, letting out a growling sound similar to that of an ape. Like a power-walking old man who just learned there is a limited-time sale on back massagers, she made her way to the bottom of the steps.
“Clancy!”
Clancy walked to the top of the stairs with his hands on his hips. He was wearing a neon green shirt with a cartoon dog on it. His shorts were neon pink. “What is it now, Mother?”
“You ate all the goddamn apple pie! Again!”
Clancy bounced his way down to the bottom of the stairs. “Honestly, I am so offended by your recent judgmental and accusatory behavior. I mean you really hate how I live my life so much that you blame me for your loss of apple pie. Wow, what a great way to deal with grief. What a great example to set for your child. Shame on you, Mother. Shame on you.”
One of Rachel’s eyelids was open wider than the other. She bent over and pointed her finger at Clancy. “Listen to me, you little panini poet, you are not some kind of angsty teen who rebels against society. You are an eleven-year-old boy, and you are my son. Treat me with some respect!”
Clancy laughed. “How can you expect me to respect you when your pies don’t even respect you? Maybe the pies keep growing legs and walking away. That’s the solution. Seriously, Mother, get a grip on your life.”
The news channel on the television changed to an urgent report. “Attention viewers, we have received an update on Ivan the chimpanzee. He has officially been spotted in Shaker Hills, flipping a bus full of senior citizens. If you are a resident of Shaker Hills, shelter in place immediately. Lock all doors and windows.”
Rachel and Clancy stared at the television, before they heard a scratching noise at the window sill. Heavy breathing was coming from outside.
“Ivan loves cigarettes, cigars, tobacco dip, marijuana, methamphetamines, cocaine, LSD, heroin, and apple pie. If your house contains such substances, we recommend removing them as soon as possible. And remember, do not engage Ivan.”
Rachel and Clancy looked at the television before staring each other in the eye. Then they heard a creaking noise coming from the window sill. Long, hairy fingers sprawled across the wood frame, and a hairy head peeked its eyes into the kitchen. Rachel and Clancy heard a deep growling.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Mother!” said Clancy. “Must it always be apple pie?”
“Hey!” said Rachel. “How was I supposed to know that it liked apple pie?” Ivan’s head emerged from behind the window. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was gray in some places. He took long, drawn out breaths and his hands shook. His eyes flashed back and forth between Rachel and Clancy, both of whom couldn’t blink. Ivan’s breath began to get quicker and quicker. His hands formed into fists, and his brow pointed downwards, before he screamed and struck the top of the window with his fists. Glass and strips of wood rained down onto the kitchen floor.
Clancy screamed from the bottom of his lungs, and Rachel put her arms in front of him, keeping him behind her. Ivan jumped into the kitchen from outside, landing on the glass and causing Clancy to scream again. He beat his chest a couple of times before looking around the kitchen. His breath slowed and he slumped over. He scratched the top of his head and moved his mouth to one side.
“What is he going to do, Mother?” said Clancy. “What is he going to do?”
“I have no idea!” said Rachel. “Jesus, I have no idea.”
Ivan continued to look around the kitchen until he noticed Rachel’s cigarettes. He walked over to the counter and picked up the box, pulling out a cigarette and sticking it between his lips. He then picked up the lighter and lit his cigarette. After taking a puff, he held it outside his mouth and gave a wide smile to Rachel and Clancy, showing off all of his teeth.
Clancy screeched as loud as he could. “Oh, God! Oh, great! Look, look, look Mother dearest! He’s smiling! The chimpanzee is smiling at us!”
Rachel was frozen in fear. Her mind was blank. She watched as Ivan danced around the kitchen smoking. All Rachel could think to do was stand in front of Clancy. Eventually Ivan noticed the apples Rachel had used to make her pies. He howled before picking one up. He threw it as hard as he could towards the oven, pointing and jumping up and down. Clancy began to cry.
Rachel stood there, not moving a muscle. “I can’t make you an apple pie. I’m- I’m not supposed to do that.”
Ivan closed his eyes and let out an ear-splitting yawp. Clancy covered his ears, sobbing. Ivan hooted multiple times before he began to squat on the kitchen floor. It sounded like an almost-empty ketchup bottle being squeezed, along with a stench similar to that of a public bathroom. Clancy put his hands over his mouth and tried not to vomit. Ivan rose from the floor, revealing a large brown puddle. Rachel felt her knees weaken and her vision fade. She almost fell over as she watched Ivan run across the kitchen and living room and launch himself into the recliner. He folded his arms behind his head and put one leg on top of the other. At this moment, Rachel's head cleared, and a burning sensation entered her lungs. She could hear the newscaster’s voice echoing in her head. Do not engage Ivan. Do not engage Ivan. Do not engage Ivan.
“God dammit,” said Rachel. She felt a great rage growing inside of her. Her eyes widened and her hands began to shake. She felt her breath quicken.
Clancy rubbed his eyes and sniffled. “What are we going to do, Mother?”
Ivan rocked back and forth in the recliner, laughing.
“God dammit,” said Rachel. “I’m not gonna take it anymore.”
“What?” said Clancy. “What do you mean, Mother?”
Rachel bent over and raised her voice. “I’m not gonna take it anymore! I have had it up to here with these bastards telling me what to do, controlling my life, not appreciating my freaking pie!”
Clancy stared at Rachel. “Oh great. Mother’s gone insane.”
“I’ve had enough of you all, telling me how I should live my life! It’s over! Clancy, we’re going to the basement!”
“Uh, why–”
Clancy was interrupted by Rachel grabbing him by the arm and taking him to the basement door. They walked down the steps and once they reached the bottom, Rachel handed Clancy her chain of what seemed to be a dozen different keys. “Alright, Clancy, I need you to find a rusty key,” said Rachel.
“Why?” asked Clancy. “What’s down here?”
“You’ll see.” Rachel began to sift through the different boxes that lay on the basement floor. The keys jangled and an occasional whoop came from Ivan on the ground floor. She eventually found what she was looking for: a long, copper-plated chest lying in the corner of the room. She hoisted it up and placed it in the center as Clancy walked over with the rusty key between his fingers. “Perfect,” said Rachel. She stuck the key into the keyhole. The chest made several different clicking noises before opening. Inside was an antique lever-action rifle, along with seven bullets.
“What?”
“This right here is your great great grandfather’s Winchester rifle,” said Rachel.
“Why do we have this in our basement?”
“Well, as you know, my family is from South Africa. In fact, they’ve been in South Africa for so long that some of our ancestors fought in the Second Boer War, and they used these Winchester rifles. And I never told you this, but old man Jonker once met a chimpanzee on the battlefield, and slayed the beast using this very same gun! Since then, every Jonker generation has defeated an ape!”
Clancy raised an eyebrow at Rachel. “I’m sorry, what? Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
“Well, it is a bit of a violent tradition.”
“Hold up, are chimpanzees even native to South Africa?”
“Oh, stop asking silly questions. Let’s kill this asshole!” Rachel ran back up the stairs, Clancy following suit. They ran into the living room to find Ivan sitting in the recliner, wearing Rachel’s reading glasses and reading Tarzan of the Apes.
“Alright you creep. You have a good taste in literature, you like to smoke, you have the courage to shit on my floor, and you might be the only ape on planet earth who appreciates my cooking. But goddammit, no one rubs their shitty ass all over my recliner.”
Ivan looked up from the book and howled at Rachel, who was loading the seven bullets into the Winchester. She cocked the gun, pointing it at Ivan.
“I’m gonna blow your greasy ass away.”
As Rachel pulled the trigger, the chimpanzee leapt up from the recliner, dodging the bullet and giving the chair a bullet hole. Ivan ran across the living room as Rachel continued to fire bullets. Each bullet rang out, paining both Rachel and Clancy’s ears. Ivan held his cigarette between his lips the entire time. One shot hit the television screen, silencing the newscaster. Rachel fired again. It smashed through a window, allowing the outside noise in. She fired once more. The bullet hit the phone, causing it to shatter into a pile of broken plastic and metal parts. Ivan had made it to the kitchen, where Rachel now aimed. She fired at Ivan, who was standing in front of the fridge. He dodged and the bullet went through the door, causing it to open on its own and revealing that it had torn through the leftovers of Clancy’s panini. She fired again and hit the glass window of the oven.
Ivan noticed Clancy watching from afar, tears welling up in his eyes. Ivan’s breath quickened and he beat on his chest a couple of times. He looked around the kitchen for something he could use as a weapon, landing on the panini press laying on the counter. He ran over to it and grabbed it, then sprinted in Clancy’s direction. He came to a stop close to Clancy and reeled his arm back, ready to swing. Clancy screamed and covered his face.
A gunshot rang out.
Rachel could not see through the gun smoke, and her ears were ringing, keeping her from hearing any noise. Once the smoke cleared, she saw an empty space where Ivan’s forehead used to be. Blood and brains sprayed across both the kitchen and Clancy’s face. Smoke billowed out from the barrel of the Winchester. The panini press fell to the floor.
Ivan stumbled back a bit, trying to keep his footing. He clung onto the edge of the refrigerator, breathing hard. His hand sat on a splash of blood, and it eventually slipped off. He held up his hand and took a puff of his cigarette. He fell face forward onto the kitchen floor, blood leaking out from the hole in his head.
Rachel heard police sirens in the distance. She realized that she had dropped her cigarette at some point, and walked over to the kitchen counter to grab the box. She took out a cigarette. She walked over to her recliner and sat down.
“Hey Clancy?”
“Yeah?”
“Not sure if you heard, but Sharon wanted me to cook her a new pie today.” Rachel inhaled from the cigarette. “Do you mind taking a walk over to her house and letting her know that I won’t be able to do that today?”
She leaned back in the recliner. She grabbed the copy of Tarzan of the Apes from the floor before taking a long inhale from her sweet, smoky cigarette. After a few seconds of reading, she looked at the phone she had just shot. She wouldn’t be able to call Daisuke anymore. She put down the book and walked past Clancy, out of the living room. She stepped over the pool of Ivan’s blood and made her way to her and Daisuke’s bedroom. She opened the closet door and grabbed one of Daisuke’s robes and a pair of his slippers. She walked back out to the kitchen, seeing that Ivan’s blood had begun to run onto the carpet. She got on her knees and put the two slippers on Ivan’s feet, and laid the robe across his body. She then stood up and looked at what she had done. She noticed Clancy staring at her with a raised eyebrow. She began to laugh. She laughed harder than she had in quite a while. She laughed harder than she had at anything Daisuke had ever said. Rachel already missed Ivan. He was a psychotic, violent, drug-abusive, and incontinent chimpanzee. Yet he loved Rachel’s apple pie.
Clancy stood in silence, blood still on his face. “Yeah, okay Mom. I’ll go tell that freaking weirdo you’re not showing up.”