Salticidae by Ryan C. Thomas Page A

she wanted to move on but was afraid to go through the divorce. I dunno. I heard rumors that she was cheating on me. I found out through the grapevine. And by grapevine I mean by a local journalist who I’m pretty sure was banging her.”
    “Ah. I see. Us writers do love to break up marriages. We’ll fuck anything with tits. I’m working on the Brangelina situation myself right now.”
    “Cool. I’ll take pictures if you need ‘em.”
    Jack brushed insects from his face. “Deal.” They walked for another minute, the shade growing cooler. “You realize I’m joking, right? I wouldn’t mess up anyone’s marriage.”
    “Jack, I really wouldn’t be angry if you did. I don’t know if I blame that journalist or not. Not even sure who to blame.”
    “And you’re still sleeping with her?”
    “Well, yeah, I love her. And she’s a good girl deep down.
    “When she’s not sleeping with other men.”
    “It’s duplicitous, I grant you that.”
    “That’s a big word. You’re talking like a writer. You’re not gonna bang me are you?”
    “ Only if Koko passes you up. But no, truth is we’re trying to work things out. We were young, I think we hadn’t sown our wild oats yet. One pussy, one dick, for the rest of your life…I see where some people can’t have that.”
    “But isn’t that the point of love and commitment?”
    “Look, Jack, I divorced her and went and had my fun too. Truth be told I was a shitty husband and said a lot of things I regret and I did a lot of things I hate thinking about. I were her, I would have left too. Maybe not done it in such a mean way, but yeah, I was not Prince Charming. Of course what did I know? I was in my twenties, typical egomaniac, definitely uncaring. I think we both married capriciously simply because we liked the romantic idea of marriage. We weren’t ready for the actual lifelong commitment. I mean, you have to stay with this person forever. At least that’s the vow you take. Think about that. Fucking forever is a long time. But maybe we’re ready now, if not out of love, out of fear. We’re discussing it, anyway. Christ I feel like I’m in therapy all of a sudden. Why are you so interested in my failed marriage?”
    “I’m not. But Banga is a bad conversationalist and I’m sick of talking about mushrooms and trees.”
    Derek stopped, took a breath, waited for J ack to draw up next to him. Together they watched Banga ahead of them hacking away low branches with his machete.
    “Banga,” Derek yelled.
    Banga stopped and looked back at them. The man was covered in sweat.
    “ Jack says you’re a bad talker. Tell us something funny.”
    After a moment of consideration, Banga smiled and said, “Okay. This is funny. There is a monkey that doesn’t like you.”
    Jack looked at Derek, who was reciprocating confusion. “The fuck does that mean, Banga?”
    Then something hit Jack in the head. “Ow!” He looked up and saw a small monkey in a branch leering down at him. It was holding a nut from the tree. It hurled the nut at Jack and hit him in the shoulder before scooting up higher into the tree tops. “Ow! Little bastard!”
    Laughing, Banga resumed his trailblazing, his machete slicing away at obstacles in his path.
    “You know, I should have gotten a picture of that,” Derek said.
    Even though they’d seen monkeys in the trees at Banga’s village, Jack was still scared of them in the wild. They weren’t the cute, cuddly animals he’d seen in zoos or on TV. In the wild, monkeys were little shits. Where the nut had hit his shoulder there was a round, beige stain. Jack rubbed at it, smelled his fingers. “Oh, sonofabitch.”
    Derek started off after Banga again. “What’s wrong?”
    “I think the damn monkey peed on that nut.
     
     
    ***
     
    Behind Janet, Moyo was moaning , his voice echoing off the rock walls as they finally emerged out of the water and onto an elevated shelf made of slate.
    “What’s he saying?” she asked Gellis.
    The large