They Weren't From the Dogs Pt.1

Hello all,

I realize that I've been terrible at keeping up to date via this blog; this semester has been a roller coaster of all-nighters, homework, exams, and organic nomenclatures that have haunted my dreams....

This piece below is one of the short stories that I wrote for my Eng. Fiction class that I took this semester.

If any of you who read this are from Kenya / RVA: Enjoy extra.

As always, thank you and happy reading!

They Weren’t From The Guard Dogs

It started with a daily announcement.

“Several students have reported sightings of baboons near the fences. There is no need for alarm, but please keep in mind to not feed these animals,” Our teacher read. He smirked and tossed the paper in the overflowing trashcan.

Three days passed and another chapel announcement: “Please do not feed the baboons! If you feed them they will continue to come near the fences. This is not what we want. Repeat: Do NOT feed them.”

Our teacher rolled his eyes and crumpled the paper.

“You heard it guys,” he said as he waved his arms around his face, “Don’t feed the monkeys.”

Some of us chuckled. Carl turned around and whispered, “The way our cafeteria food tastes, it’s a miracle the monkeys keep coming back.”

I snickered and pushed him back.

Then we heard the barking at night. They weren’t from the guard dogs.

A couple of my friends and I decided to jog around the perimeter of the campus one afternoon. When we had covered a third of the jogging trail, we found ourselves at the bottom of “killer” hill, a 450 feet pathway elevated by at least a 45-degree angle. By the time we reached halfway up the hill, I had to lean my arms on my knees. My friends jeered behind them as they continued on. Running at an elevation of 8000 feet above sea level had its perks. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, hoping the resonating rings would disappear from my vision. I slowly opened my eyes again, my lungs straining to bring in what little air it could. I started to push off my knees and commence jogging once more, when at the corner of my eyes I saw a bulk of grey. I turned to my left and there it was, just beyond the fence, near the outer lining of the forest that surrounded our campus, a fully-grown male baboon. I took a step back. The baboon stared at me, its trembling yellow eyes locked onto mine. My breaths came out in shorter bursts. I looked back one last time, when suddenly, it slammed its palms into the fence. My legs went limp for a moment, long enough for me to collapse on the roughly tiled pathway. Then the barking started. The baboon shook the fence and commenced to jump. Its fangs glistened as a stream of sunlight hit them from the trees above. It started to gnaw on the iron linings; it wrapped its tongue around the wires, which left a darker shade of grey than the ones untouched. It never stopped glaring at me.

 “Dude, what are you doing? Get up!” It wasn’t until a hand shook my shoulders that I jerked around to see my friends had come back.

“Matt, seriously, what are you—“

My finger guided them to the fence. I had to grab the finger with my free hand to pinpoint to the baboon.

“Woah, dude, check it out! That’s thing’s huge!” Carl remarked.

“Look at its fangs!” Chris said as he took a step toward the fence.

The baboon screamed into a frenzy; it leapt frantically into the air, its drool spraying across the fence and through to us.

“Uggh, sick, what the heck!” Chris wiped his chest and kicked at the fence. That was when the baboon jumped back and leapt back into the forest.

“Aww, dude, this smells like crap!” Chris walked back towards us, kicking a pebble back at the fence.

“Dude, stop swearing!” Zach yelled.

“Grow up.”

“Shut up, both of you.” Carl grabbed my arms and lifted me off the ground. As we all turned to go up the hill, I looked at the fence one last time. I raised my head slightly and noticed something red dripping down from the barbed wire lining the top of the fence. That was when I remembered; the parts of the fence its palms had latched unto, and its chest as it jumped around. They all were red.