After a little wile, we seem to slow down some, an things ease up. Major Fritch say we can
unbuckle our seatbelts now, an get on bout our bidness, whatever it is. She say we is now travelin
at a speed of fifteen thousan miles a hour. I look back an sure enough, the earth is only a little ball
behin us, just like it look in all them pichers from outer space. I look aroun, an there's the big ole
ape, all sour-lookin, an glum, glarin at Major Fritch an me. She say maybe he want his lunch or
somethin, an for me to go on back there an give him a banana afore he gets angry an does
somethin bad.
They has packed a little bag of food for the ape an it contain bananas an some cereals an
dried berries an leaves an shit like that. I get it open an start rummagin thru it lookin for somethin
that will make the ape happy, an meantime, Major Fritch is on the radio with Houston Groun
Control.
"Now listen here," she say, "we has got to do somethin bout this ape. It ain't Sue— it is a
male ape, an he don't look none to glad to be here. He might even be violent."
It took a wile for the message to get there an a reply to get back to us, but some feller down
there say, "Awe pooh! One ape is jus like any other."
"The hell it is," Major Fritch say. "If you was in this little bitty compartment with that big
ole thing you would be singing a different tune."
An after a minute or two a voice come cracklin over the radio, say, "Look, you is ordered not
to tell anybody about this, or we will all be made laughing-stocks. As far as you or anybody else
is concerned, that ape is Sue— no matter what it's got between its legs."
Major Fritch look at me an shake her head. "Aye, aye, sir," she say, "but I'm gonna keep that
fucker strapped in as long as I'm in here with him— you understand that?"
An from the ground control there come back one word:
"Roger."
Actually, after you get used to it, bein in outer space is kind of fun. We is without gravity, an
so can float all over the spaceship, an the scenery is remarkable— moon an sun, earth an stars. I
wonder where Jenny Curran is down there, an what she is doin.
Aroun an aroun the earth we go. Day an night go by ever hour or so an it sort of put a
different perspective on things. I mean, here I am doin this, an when I get back— or should I say if
I get back— what then? Go an start up my little srimp-growin bidness? Go find Jenny again? Play
in The Cracked Eggs? Do somethin about my mama bein in the po house? It is all very strange.
Major Fritch be catchin a wink or two of sleep whenever she can, but when she ain't sleepin,
she is bitchin. Crabbin bout the ape, crabbin bout what kind of jackoffs they is down at groun
control, crabbin bout she got no place to put on her makeup, crabbin bout me eatin food when it
ain't supper or lunchtime. Hell, all we got to eat is Granola bars anyway. I don't want to be
complainin too much, but it seem like they might of picked a good-lookin woman or at least one
that don't bitch all the time.
An furthermore, let me say this: that ape ain't no dreamboat either.
First I give it a banana— okay? It grapped the banana an started peelin it, but then it put the
banana down. Banana started floatin all aroun the cabin of the spaceship an I got to go find
it. I give it back to the ape an he start mushin it up an flingin the mush everplace, an I got to go
clean that up. Wants attention all the time too. Evertime you leave it alone it commences to put up
an enormous racket an clack its jaws together like a set of them wind-up teeth. Drive you nuts
after a wile.
Finally I got out my harmonica an started playin a little somethin— "Home on the Range," I
think it was. An the ape started to calm down a little. So I played some more— stuff like "The
Yellow Rose of Texas" an "I Dream of Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair." Ape is lyin there
lookin at me, peaceful as a baby. I forget there is a tv camera in the spaceship an they is pickin all
this up down there at groun control. Nex mornin when I wake up somebody hole up a newspaper
in front of the camera down in Houston for us to see. The headline say, "Idiot Plays Space Music
to Soothe Ape." That is the sort of shit I has got to contend with.
Anyhow, things are goin along pretty good, but I been noticin that ole Sue is lookin at Major
Fritch in a kind of strange way. Ever time she get near him, Sue sort of perk up an be reachin out
like he wants to grap her or somethin, an she start bitchin at him— "Git away from me you awful
thing. Keep your hans to yoursef!" But ole Sue has got somethin in mind. That much I can tell.
It ain't long before I find out what it is. I have gone behin this little partition to take a pee in
a jar in private, when all of a sudden I hear this commotion. I stick my head aroun the partition an
Sue has managed to grap a holt of Major Fritch an he has got his han down in her space suit. She
is yellin an hollerin to beat the band an is crackin Sue over the head with the radio microphone.
Then it dawns on me what the problem is. Wile we has been up in space for nearly two days,
ole Sue been strapped into his seat an ain't had a chance to take a leak or nothin! An I sure
remember what that's like. He must be bout to bust! Anyhow, I go over an got him away from
Major Fritch an she still hollerin an yellin, callin him a "filthy animal," an shit like that. When she
get loose, Major Fritch go up to the front of the cockpit an put her head down an start sobbin. I
unstrap Sue an take him behin the partition with me.
I find a empty bottle for him to pee in, but after he finished, he take the bottle an heave it
into a panel of colored lights an it bust to pieces an all the pee start floatin aroun in the spaceship.
I say, to hell with this, an start leadin Sue back to his seat when I seen a big glob of pee headin
straight for Major Fritch. It look like it gonna hit her in the back of the head, so I turn Sue loose
an try to head off the pee with a net they have give us for catchin stuff that's floatin aroun. But jus
as I am bout to net the glob of pee, Major Fritch sit back up an turn aroun an it caught her right in
the face.
She start hollerin an bawlin again an in the meantime, Sue has done gone an started rippin
out wires from the control panel. Major Fritch is screamin, "Stop him! Stop him!" but before you
know it, sparks an stuff is flyin all aroun inside the spaceship an Sue is jumpin from ceilin to floor
tearin shit up. A voice come over the radio wantin to know "What in hell is goin on up there?" but
by then it is too late.
The spaceship is weavin all aroun an goin end over end an me, Sue an Major Fritch is tossed
aroun like corks. Can't grap holt of nothin, can't turn off nothin, can't stan up or set down. The
voice of groun control come over the radio again, say, "We is noticin some kine of minor
stabilization trouble with your craft. Forrest, will you manually insert the D-six program into the
starboard computer?"
Shit— he got to be jokin! I'm spinnin aroun like a top an I got a wild ape loose in here to
boot! Major Fritch is hollerin so loud I cannot hear or even think nothin, but the gist of what she
is hollerin seem to be that we is bout to crash an burn. I managed to get a glance out of the
winder, an in fact things don't look good. That earth comin up on us mighty fast.
Somehow I managed to get to where the starboard computer is, an hold on to the panel with
one han an I'm puttin D-six into the machine. It is a program designed to land the spaceship
in the Indian Ocean in case we get in trouble, which we certainly is now.
Major Fritch an ole Sue be holdin on for dear life, but Major Fritch holler out, "What is you
doin over there?" When I tole her, she say, "Forgit that, you stupid turd— we is already done
passed over the Indian Ocean. Wait till we go roun again an see if you can set us down in the
South Pacific."
Believe it or not, it don't take much time to go roun the world when you is in a spaceship, an
Major Fritch has grapped holt to the radio microphone an is hollerin at them people at groun
control that we is headed for either a splash-down or crash-down in the South Pacific Ocean an to
come get us as soon as they can. I'm punchin buttons like crazy an that big ole earth is loomin
closer. We fly over somethin Major Fritch thinks look like South America an then there be only
water again, with the South Pole off to our left an Australia up ahead.
Then everthing get scorchin hot, an funny little souns are comin from the outside of the
spaceship an it start shakin an hissin an the earth is dead up ahead. Major Fritch shout to me,
"Pull the parachute lever!" but I am pinned in my seat. An she is pressed up against the ceilin of
the cabin, an so it look like it's curtains for us, since we is goin bout ten thousan miles a hour, an
headed straight for a big ole green blob of land in the ocean. We hit that goin this fast, ain't even
gonna be a grease spot lef.
But then all of a sudden somethin go "pop" an the spaceship slow down. I look over, an
damn if ole Sue ain't pulled the parachute lever hissef an saved our asses. I remind mysef then an
there to feed him a banana when all this shit is over.
Anyhow, the spaceship be swingin back an forth under the parachute, an it look like we is
gonna hit the big ole green blob of land— which apparently ain't so good neither, since we is
sposed only to hit water an then ships will pick us up. But ain't nothin gone right from the time
we set foot in this contraption, so why should anybody expect it to now?
Major Fritch is on the radio an sayin to groun control, "We is bout to land on someplace
north of Australia out in the ocean, but I ain't sure where we is."
Couple of seconts later a voice come back say, "If you ain't sure where you is, why don't you
look out the winder, you dumb broad?"
So Major Fritch put the radio down an go look out the winder an she say, "Jesus— this look
like Borneo or someplace," but when she try to tell that to groun control, the radio done gone
dead.
We be gettin real close to the earth now, an the spaceship still swinging under the parachute.
There is nothin but jungle an mountains beneath us cept for a little bitty lake that is kind of
brown. We can barely make out somethin going on nex to the lake down there. The three of us—
me, Sue an Major Fritch— all got our noses pressed to the winder lookin down, an all of a sudden
Major Fritch cry out, "Good God! This ain't Borneo— this is fuckin New Guinea, an all that shit
on the groun must be one of them Cargo Cults or somethin!"
Sue an me lookin down hard, an there on the groun nex to the lake, lookin back at us, is
about a thousan natives, all with they arms raised up towards us. They is wearin little grass skirts
an has their hair all flayed out, an some is carryin shields an spears.
"Damn," I say, "what you say they is?"
"Cargo Cult," Major Fritch say. "In World War II we used to drop packages of candy an
stuff like that on these jungle bunnies to keep em on our side, an they ain't never forgot it.
Figgered it was God or somebody doin it, an ever since, they is waiting for us to come back. Even
built crude runways an all— see down there? They has got a landin zone all marked off with them
big roun black markers."
"Them things look more like cookin pots to me," I says.
"Yeah, they do, sort of," Major Fritch say curiously.
"Ain't this where cannibals come from?" I axed.
"I reckon we will soon find out," she say.
Spaceship is gently swingin towards the lake, an jus afore we hit, they start beatin they
drums an movin they mouths up and down. We can't hear nothin on account of bein in the
capsule, but our maginations