The Monkey Parade

Skeletons are best left in the closet.

Is Betty about to uncover them?

I will protect them with my dear life.

We are all sitting in the lounge with Betty while her monkey parade is setting up their equipment.

"Betty, don't you think that this is too much? I mean it is bad enough I am sitting in my blues for a small-town paper."

"Clayton my boy, you are going to make this town famous."

"Oh god Betty, please don't put this on that silly old Facebook page of yours. I am going to have a whole bunch of grannies drooling over me."

Mom bursts out in a hysterical laugh. "Clay! You just like your father now. You can't say things like that."

"I agree Denice," I hear my father in his stern voice say.

"For once we agree on something."

"No Denice. I agree with Clay. It is pointless having an old bunch of women staring at him. We want the eyes that matters."

I turn my attention to my father" What eyes that matter dad?"

"The press my son."

"Dad, Betty is press enough for me."

And of course, Isabella that is finding this all amusing says her mouths worth. "Oh come on soldier, smile nicely for the old ladies. Maybe even loosen some of those buttons and show them some flesh."

"Boo do not encourage her."

But it is too late, Betty heard what Isabella said and is staring at me like a hungry animal. "That is a great idea Clay, maybe we can take some pictures with you without that shirt. I can see those tight muscles bulging underneath it."

"Betty! Urgh! What do you know about bulging muscles."

"I have seen a few in my lifetime, my boy. Now that old Thomas from the hardware shop, now he has a good pack on him."

"Aahhh, Betty! Just shut up!"

I watch Matt in the corner of my eye almost rolling from laughter. "Fuck bro, this is going to be shit funny. They are going to pin you up in the hair salon, the bakery, hell even the post office."

"Matty you are not helping either. I think you and Isabella need to go sit outside."

"And miss my soldier getting famous, that ain't going to happen."

The scuffle is finally over and it seems like they have figured out how to use their equipment. "Okay, I think we are ready to start."

"Betty just keep it clean."

"I can't make any promises my boy."

The cameraman takes his position and starts to roll in. Three. Two. One. Action. And Betty is on. "Hey, fellow city folks."

God this is not a city. But anyway…

"I am here today with our own war hero, Clayton Jackson…"

I am not a war hero either.

"He just got back from fighting that evil man in the east which name we cannot mention."

What the fuck is she on about?

"The poor lad got hurt down there and had to come home. Even though all our hearts are sore, we are glad to have him back."

Whose heart is sore? She is crazy…

"But let's not wobble our minds about that, let's get to know the hunk of a soldier a bit better…

Hunk of a soldier? Seriously?...

"Clay please tell us a bit more about yourself."

"Well, Betty that is quite a broad question. Can you narrow it down to what bits you want to hear?"

"Tell us how old you are my boy. You look way to boyish innocent to be a hardened soldier."

"Wow, I will take that as a compliment because my mom will slap me if I am sarcastic on camera."

"CUT!" Betty's tiny voices raise a pitch higher than normal. "You can say that shit on camera, now let's try again."

"Well, Betty as you mention I look like a boy so I guess I am about eighteen."

"CUT!" Betty stop the camera rolling again. "You are twenty-five. I googled you."

"Whoa, now that is serious stalker shit."

Betty turns to my father not looking the least bit amused. "Richard please talk to your son, he is being just as difficult as you."

"Son just play nice with old Betty," my father says with a smirk on his face.

"Thank you, Richard, now let's try this again…Clay my boy, how old did you say you are?"

"I am twenty-five, Betty."

"And when did you join the army?"

"It is the Marines and that was when I was eighteen."

"Tell me why does such a young boy want to go and risk his life like that?"

"I guess I always just felt I wanted to belong to something that makes a difference to the greater good."

"Was this a motivation that you got from your father?"

Fuck now I need to choose my words very wisely, the last thing I want to do is piss the old man off. The entire old age home is going to laugh at him when he launches off his chair and slaps me real good.

"My dad always encouraged me to do what I believe in."

"Sounds like a wise man. Richard if you just want to step into the picture so our viewers can see your face."

I don't know what is worse, the freak show or the fact that she thinks we have viewers…

"Thank you, Richard. Now tell me, Clay, how long were you in the marines."

"Shit Betty, I forgot to count. What is twenty-five less eighteen again?"

"CUT! Clay you cannot curse on camera."

"Betty, shit is not a curse word."

"For half of "Better Endings," it is a curse word."

"Can I say fuck then?"

I am horrified by the next words that come out of Betty's mouth,

"That is what the other has done in their spare time."

"Gross! Fuck. No shit. Dammit. I did not need to hear that."

I hear Matt speaking in the background. "Isabella, I think now is a good time for us to go sit outside."

"No. This is getting very interesting. I did not think old people do the funky monkey still."

I nearly fall off my chair hearing these words coming from her mouth. "Boo, really? Funky monkey?"

"Soldier she just said we are not allowed to curse."

Betty all frustrated stomps her feet. "Can you kids focus? Clay tell us how long you were in the army?"

"It was the Marines and it was seven years."

"And how long did you intend to fight the war"

"It was not a war and I was going to stay as long as I could."

I watch as my mom's face saddens. I can remember that day very well when they said goodbye to me at the bus stop. That was the day I told her I won't be coming home fora very long time.

"But then you got hurt." Betty carries on. "Please tell the viewers how you got hurt."

"Which part?"

"What part of your body got hurt?"

"My leg."

"What happened to your leg, my boy?"

"I hurt it badly in an accident and it got infected. They had to amputate it above my knee."

"Can you please show our viewers?"

"Betty!"

I see my mom jumping from her chair. "That is not happening!"

Then my father shortly follows as he is clearly mad. "You are not fucking making my son take his leg off for every shit face to see."

"Richard!" my mom scolds him.

"No Denice. We end this shit right here."

As if the first request was not bad, Betty slams us with another, "Okay then can he at least take his shirt off for the ladies a bit?"

"My god Betty," my mom stares at her in disbelief. "Have you gone insane?"

"Denice she has gone insane a long time ago," my father adds.

"Fine," I finally give in to stop this monkey parade. "I will take my shirt off but not my fucking leg!"

"That is fantastic!" Betty almost too eagerly says.

"Let's just finish this shit."

"Are we taking the photos first?"

"Yes. Just get it over with."

"Oh we can take a few pictures of the pretty girl and you together. It will make all the girls white with jealousy."

"Betty it is green."

"What is green?"

"Never mind. Where do you want to do this?"

She takes me to the damn back yard by the pool. Like this is a swimsuit photoshoot. All I need is the bimbos in their bikinis that are hanging all over me. Does she not want me to strip down to my underwear as well?

"Betty do you want me to take my pants off as well?"

"Now that is not a bad idea."

My father immediately stops her. "What did I say about the leg and ending this shit."

"Oh Richard," she snaps at him. "We are just having a bit of harmless fun."

"Betty we all know that your fun is not harmless."

"Okay let's just do this with your pants on then."

In the first shot, she literally lets the cameraman take over five times. I can almost swear the old bag is doing it on purpose. All she wants to see is my abs muscles glimmer in the sun. She even gets baby oil from Isabella to rub all over my chest.

The next one is even worse, she tries to get me to pull my pants even lower. I swear if she pulls it even lower this harmless fun is turning into hardcore porn.

The last damn one she gets me to wet my hair. I mean really now because I am a Marine does she think I need to be wet. First, she says I am in the army but now when it suites her she gets it right.

"Are we done now?" I annoyingly ask.

"Now I want one of the pretty girl."

"Betty, don't you think you are going to get more views if they think I am single?"

"Yes, yes you are actually right. Let's leave the girl then."

I don't want to put Isabella through this shit even though she is finding it hilarious. She is really getting it later.

I get dressed again and we head back into the lounge. But she is not done yet. The hardest part is about to come.

"Now Clay my boy, can you tell us what happened."

I have not told it in detail to anybody that is sitting in the room. Do I want to, I will just tell them what they need to know. I don't want to put the image in anybody's head but my own."

I swallow hard and take a deep breath. My palms are getting sweaty and I swear I can feel the pain in my leg all over again."

"Well..."

I tell her bits of what happened, just the highlights. Just enough to satisfy her curiosity. I tell her up and till where we all realized that my leg was crushed and that they could not get me out

"What happened then, Clay? Did they get you out?"

My entire body freezes as the horror of that day overwhelms me. I can feel the pain like it was yesterday. I can still see their faces as clear as day. I can remember every move, every smell, and even every word that was said.

I have to ask, do I really want to tell anybody what happened next?