Bingo's mother doesn't like his father. They haven't gotten along in years, or ever since they adopted Bingo, at least. Chico, his father, hates bananas. He hates the smell of them, their peels, the mere sight of them. Since Bingo is a monkey, that's what he eats; not all that he eats, of course. Bingo also like banana pudding, banana and peanut butter sandwiches, banana pizzas, and all types of ice cream.
In short, Chico doesn't like Bingo or his bananas, He fought Fabio tooth and nail against adopting a monkey, but their kids, Burrito and Pinto, loved the idea of having a monkey as a brother. In the end, Chico lost and the Montegue family adopted a monkey and named him Bingo. To compromise with Chico, Fabio agreed to let Bingo live outside in the big, big tree in the big, big backyard.
Makin' It Home
I wanted to make it home-ish. I've been all over the world and this definitely would be the hardest to get adjusted to. I mean, for Oscar's sake, they put me in a tree! Granted, I AM a monkey, and Chico isn't too monkey-friendly, they could have at least given me an attic room or something.
My life has been crazy since I was a wee little monklet. My biological mother and father weren't married when they had me because my mother's parents thought that she was too young for it. So when she had me, they forced her to put me up for adoption. It's sad to think sometimes about my real parents and how I've never met them. But I've gotten to experience so many different lifestyles and cultures.
Even in Africa, they didn't make me live in a tree. It was a cave, a very intricately developed cave. I brought some interesting formations back from there when my African parents couldn't handle me any longer. They are on a branch-shelf on one side of my bed.
Next, I went to Japan to live with a monk in a monastery. It was a very quiet three years for me. I didn't get to play with many children there... come to think of it, I didn't even see many other children there. Or women. Maybe they were anti-social or something. Hmm. Weird. Anyway, they let me keep the beautiful Japanese lantern that I kept running into and busting the lightbulb. I hang it over my bed-branch so I can read late at night.
The last place I went to was cold. Very cold. I lived in an igloo for only a few months with an Eskimo family. Some icicles began forming on the end of my hair and it became hard for me to function. I don't think monkeys are made for the cold. I couldn't fin anything that wouldn't melt to bring back from there.
But here I sit; on one of the tallest branches in my big, big tree in the big, big backyard, staring at the back side of the Montegue home.
The Letter
Sycamore Acres was where the letter came from. Fabio told me that was in Maryland, somewhere up north, It was addressed to me.
Bingo Montegue
782 Mountain Air Lane
Colombia, SC 82138
The handwriting was elegant and educated. The way the letters all had a slight slant, the way each "t" was crossed only on the right side, the curve of each "g". It was beautiful writing. I turned the envelop over to open it. The top of it pulled off easily. It must not have been sealed very well. I gently slipped the folded paper out of its holder.
The letter was folded neatly two times, perfectly equal. I straightened it out to find the same elegant handwriting in dark blue ink. This is what it read:
My Dearest Bingo,
You wouldn't believe the trouble I went through to find you. Oh, but those troubles are over now. I'm glad I finally did. Now I can catch up with what you're doing and I can tell you what all has happened here since you left.
Your father left me a few years after we were forced to give you up. Your grandparents never thought he was good enough for me, Also, he couldn't stand to be without you. I guess I just made things worse for him. He really did want to keep you, and me, for that matter. But my parents just wouldn't have it. They're old fashioned. Nothing we can do about that, huh?
Anyway, what's new with you? I know you've been all over the world. I would love to hear some stories from you. I don't think I've ever left Maryland. Maybe when I was just a wee little monklet. Hopefully, you'll write back and tell me about your life. I would love to hear from my baby boy.
Well, Bingo, I must get back to tending to your grandmother. She is sick with the flu. Please do write back.
Love always,
Your mother
Tears welled up in my eyes. One fell onto the letter and spread the blue ink. I smiled.
It Smelled of Firewood
It smelled of firewood. I saw the smoke rise. It tinged my nose and burned my eyes. That's when I looked down and saw that the old man was trying to burn down my tree! I screamed like a little monklet and jumped to ground level to protest the new-found pyrotechnics of my tree. I pounced onto his back, scratching at his eyes with my tree-climbing sharpened claws and kicking him in the bottom, He was struggling to get me off his back while I was struggling to stay attached to him.
He hated me. I hated him. How I could work in this family, I do not know. Luckily, I had Fabio on my side. She was my saving grace. She saved me from these random fits of fury and hate of Chico's. This particular incident was no exception. As blood streamed down Chico's face from a deep, long scratch of my claws, Fabio came screaming from the house.
"Bingo!" she yelled. "Bingo, get off right this instant!"
I jumped off of the old ungrateful man. I took one look at Fabio's expression and immediately felt ashamed. She took a look at the gash in Chico's forehead, clicking her tongue in disappointment.
"Ouch," Chico complained. "That hurts, woman." I saw Fabio's expression change from disappointment to annoyed anger at once. Her eyes narrowed and face hardened. I turned slowly to jump back up to my favorite branch at the top of my tree. This was no longer my battle. It was all Chico's.
The grocery store was glad when I came to town and was able to grow the bananas on the tree properly. They hadn't had real bananas since the monkey garden was bulldozed. I had the touch, it was a skill that just happened to run in my blood. Who knew?
When I turned 11, I began my business with the produce department. They told me that my bananas were the best that the grocery store had ever gotten. Even better than the monkey garden. The bananas went faster than ever. Everyone loved them, Their ripeness, their length, their color. After picking bunches for the store, there would still be plenty of bunches left over for my family, who, naturally, never had to buy bananas from the store again.
I made loads of money too, but I put most of it away for college funds for Pinto and I. No one thought that Burrito would make it to college. We were all convinced that he would just end up as a bag boy at the grocery store.
My Little Pinto
Pinto is the smallest Montegue. When I first got to the Montegue home, Pinto was shy and very quiet. She hid behind her mother's legs, peeking out so that I could only see the very top of her eyes. Gradually, she came around to talking to me and asking me questions. I told her all about where I've been and why I'm a monkey, you know, because kids ask questions like that. I told her that my mama and daddy were monkeys and very in love. And she interrupted, "Yeah, I know what happens when two people really love each other..." then she paused. "So why didn't they want you anymore?" I answered solemnly, "Because my mother's parents didn't approve of me." I could tell that she felt sympathetic. I read it in her eyes. I said, "It's okay, Pinto. I'm okay. I like it here." She smiled.
After that first conversation, we became very close. It seemed like I had always been with her. Of course, she was only 8 when I got there, so learning about her life didn't take much longer than a half hour.
Pinto got really good at climbing my tree. She would come up to sit with me on warm nights, talking about the stars or anything else that happened to be on her mind. It was usually about Burrito teasing her, or her father being too critical of her.
My favorite time with her was the night she came to me with her math homework. She trudged across the big, big yard to my tree, looked up and called my name. I was near the top, so I swung down a few branches.
"Pinto? Come on up."
"I can't," she answered.
"Why not?"
"Because I have my math book with me. I can't climb the tree with this stuff in my hands."
"Oh," I replied. "I'll come down then."
So, I dropped down to the ground and we sat under my tree while I explained to her how to multiply. When she completely understood it, she asked if she could have a banana. I said sure and went to grab one for her and one for me. I brought the two bananas back down and we sat for another hour and a half just talking. We talked until the stars were out and mother called us in for dinner.
Whenever I'm by myself, looking at the stars, I think of my little Pinto. That's what she is. My little Pinto.
Burrito's Friends
Burrito brought over some of his friends the other night. They seemed to be nice when I first met them, but I don't think they could fathom having a monkey as a sibling.
After dinner, the boys went out to the backyard to throw the football around. I'm not much for sports, so I just climbed my tree and began reading a book for my English class.
I was well into the book when I heard a commotion at the bottom of my tree. I looked down and saw two of the boys starting to climb up. Burrito was yelling at them and trying to get them down, unsuccessfully.
I descended until I was right above them and asked them what they were doing.
"We just wanted to see where losers really live," said the shorter one.
"Yeah, nice room. Where's the bathroom?" the other, fatter one laughed,
As you could imagine, I didn't take this very well. I picked up the closest thing I could grab, which happened to be old. hardened feces. As I threw the feces at the fat kid's head, I triumphantly exclaimed, "In your face!"
Needless to say, Burrito never brought friends home again.
B-I-N-G-O
There was a man who had a monkey and Bingo was his name-o.
B-I-N-G-O. B-I-N-G-O. B-I-N-G-O and Bingo was his name-o.
This monkey liked to climb his tree and Bingo was his name-o.
clap-I-N-G-O. clap-I-N-G-O. clap-I-N-G-O and Bingo was his name-o.
He really liked to eat bananas and Bingo was his name-o.
clap-clap-N-G-O. clap-clap-N-G-O. clap-clap-N-G-O and Bingo was his name-o.
Pinto was his bestest friend and Bingo was his name-o.
clap-clap-clap-G-O. clap-clap-clap-G-O. clap-clap-clap-G-O and Bingo was his name-o.
That stupid man hated him and Bingo was his name-o.
clap-clap-clap-clap-O. clap-clap-clap-clap-O. clap-clap-clap-clap-O and Bingo was his name-o.
The monkey's cool and I love him and Bingo was his name-o.
clap-clap-clap-clap-clap. clap-clap-clap-clap-clap. clap-clap-clap-clap-clap and Bingo was his name-o.
