“One down,” I said to Lula.
We walked through the neighborhood rattling the cookie box, and we captured two more monkeys.
“These cookies are good,” Lula said, her hand in the box. “It’s no wonder monkeys come to get them.”
“We’ve been around the block twice,” I said as we completed another loop, “and we’re still missing three monkeys.”
“Maybe Gail won’t notice,” Lula said.
“That’s not the point. I can’t just let monkeys loose in Trenton.”
“Why not? There’s all kinds of crazy shit loose in Trenton.”
We returned to the car, and a monkey was sitting on the hood looking in at the other monkeys. I gave him a cookie and added him to the collection. I retrieved Carl from Munch’s house, set a box of Pop-?Tarts on the floor as monkey bait, took the rest of the monkey food, and closed the door. We all piled into the Jeep, and I slowly drove down the alley and did a couple laps around the block. We didn’t see the remaining two monkeys.
“My eyes are watering,” Lula said. “These monkeys need some hygiene lessons. What are you gonna do with them, anyway?”
A monkey darted across the road. I stopped the car, grabbed the cookie box, and took off after him. I chased him for half a block and cornered him against a chain-?link fence that ran along the button factory parking lot.
“Want a cookie?” I asked him.
He took the cookie and followed me back to the car. Do I know how to catch monkeys, or what?
“Now I’m only missing one monkey,” I said.
“This is a nightmare. Next time, I’m the one chasing the monkey, because I’m not sitting in the monkey Jeep.”
“I’m giving it one more try,” I said. “I’m going back to Munch’s house to see if my monkey bait worked.”
“Monkey bait?”
“Pop-?Tarts in Munch’s kitchen.”
I returned to the alley and parked the car. Lula, Carl, and I got out and went to the back door and looked in the kitchen. Sure enough, there was my monkey. I went in, confiscated what was left of the Pop-?Tarts, and we all marched back to the car.
The car was locked.
“Did you lock the car?” I asked Lula.
“No way.”
I looked inside. The key was in the ignition. The monkeys had somehow managed to lock the car.
“You got a problem,” Lula said. “You better hope they don’t drive away. Where’s your extra key?”
“I don’t have an extra key.”
It was a little after ten. I called Diesel, but he didn’t pick up. I could call a locksmith, break a window, or call Ranger. Since it was Ranger’s car, the choice was obvious.
“I’m locked out of the Jeep,” I told him. “The key is in the ignition, and the doors are locked.”
“Where are you?”
“In the alley behind Munch’s house on Crocker Street.”
Ten minutes later, a black Rangeman SUV eased to a stop behind the Jeep. Ranger got out of the SUV, walked over to me, and looked in the Jeep.
“Babe,” he said.