MOS - 10 (Patreon)

"Dr. Davis!" I panted, still struggling to hold onto the doorknob. "Something's wrong with Emily!"

"What's happened, John?"

"I don't know!" I said, my breath ragged. "I brought her home from Mission Control, and as soon as I opened the door, she ran away. Then she got into a fight with a dog, and when I tried to grab her, she bit me pretty badly."

"Where is she now, John?"

"I've got her in our bedroom, but she's tearing the place up! I'm worried she's going to hurt herself or break the window and escape again."

"John, Emily has no control over the primal urges she's experiencing right now. She's angry about something and can't manage her temper. You need to find something from her past, something she can remember and connect with, so she can regain control over her primate nature."

I pondered that for a moment. The nursery items, including Eric's stuffed animals, were still packed in boxes.

"Okay, I'll try that."

"If you can calm her down, I strongly advise you to bring her to the institute. You're not equipped to care for Kiki anymore. You have to accept that your wife, as you knew her, is no longer there."

I nodded, feeling tears welling up as I tore open the box containing the stuffed animals. Among them was Eric's beloved white dinosaur.

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll do my best."

"Anytime, John."

I hung up the phone, my vision blurred by the tears. Opening the bedroom door, I held the stuffed dinosaur in front of me, just as Kiki realized I had let go of the doorknob and was opening it.

"Emily!" I said, my voice shaking. "Remember this?"

Kiki snarled, hissing and screeching.

"Kiki, no!" I pleaded.

"Call her by her human name, John."

"Emily!" I said again, desperately. "Remember this? It was Eric's. Remember? Our son?"

I extended the dinosaur towards her. At first, she bared her fangs again, but then something clicked, and she took it from me, cradling it close to her chest like a baby, cooing softly.

"That's it," I murmured, stroking her head gently. "Remember Eric?"

She looked up at me, her lips stained with blood—my blood.

She nodded and slowly walked back towards the living room, using all four limbs but clutching the dinosaur tightly.

"She seems to be calming down, John," Elaine said. "You need to help her remember herself."

"I will, thank you, Doctor."

"Anytime, John."

I ended the call.

Emily crawled onto the couch, holding the small doll as if it were an infant, making cooing sounds.

"Are you okay, honey?" I asked, after a while.

She looked at me and shook her head.

"I know," I whispered.

She climbed into my lap, making soft chittering and hooting noises. Taking my forearm in her small black hands, she licked and kissed the wound that had stopped bleeding.

"Thank you, baby," I said, my heart calming down. "What are we going to do with you, huh?"

She made more chittering sounds and guided my hand to stroke her soft fur.

She gestured that she wanted a bath.

"Do you want a bath, hon?"

She nodded, continuing to make chittering sounds.

"Alright, then."

I got up and prepared a bath for her, adding some bubbles. Then I went to assess the state of our ravaged bedroom.

She had torn apart several pillows, smearing feces everywhere. She had shattered the mirror, knocked down pictures, and scattered her jewelry across the room. Makeup containers had been crushed against the wall.

Sighing, I tended to my wound and returned to pick her up.

She wrapped her long arms around my neck, kissing me. However, she emitted a strong odor, causing me to turn my head slightly.

She let out a loud screech, and I nodded. "Okay, okay!"

I kissed her chastely, but she desired more. She playfully stuck her tongue out, licking my nose.

"Eww, monkey germs!" I said.

She chittered and giggled at that, as I lowered her into the tub.

Later, as I blow-dried her fur while she stood next to me, the doorbell rang.

Screeching and squawking, she darted towards the door. With her ability to use all fours, she had become much faster. She stood expectantly in front of the door, waiting for me to open it.

"Honey, maybe you should go to the living room?" I suggested.

She screeched and bared her teeth at me.

I sighed. "Okay, then. But no running away!"

She nodded.

I opened the door to find several parents standing on our porch.

"Mr. Adamson!" Dave Jeffries said, a late-thirties English teacher from the local high school. "We need to talk to you about your...animal."

I sighed and stepped outside. I could hear Kiki screeching from the other side, desperately hoping she wouldn't lose control again.

"What is it?" I asked, closing the door behind me.

"John, I know you're taking care of one of the monkeys, but my daughter Lillie fell while trying to climb your fence!" Dave said.

"Is she okay?" I inquired.

"Yes, she's fine. Just a bump on the back of her head. But John, surely you can see that this isn't a suitable environment for a wild animal like that!"

"Kiki isn't wild, she just—"

"If you don't do something about that creature," Anita Rogers interjected, "we'll call animal control!"

Several parents nodded, expressing their agreement.

I sighed again. "Look, I'll see what I can do. I promise she won't get out again, and she won't disturb you or your children anymore, okay?"

Dave Jeffries nodded. "We want to support the International Space Agency, but we also want our children to be safe, John." He glanced pointedly at the hand towel wrapped around my bleeding forearm.

"I understand," I said, walking back into my house. "You all take care now."

Closing the door, I made an effort to create some noise as it locked.

Emily looked up at me, her lips pursed as she emitted soft hooting sounds.

"They're scared for their children!" I said, walking into the living room and sitting down on one of the chairs. "Are you happy?"

Emily crouched beside me, guiding my hand to her head, making squeaking noises.

"Yes, I know," I said, stroking her now-soft fur. "I get it. But either you control your emotions, or I'll be forced to admit you to the primate institute!"

She squawked in protest, shaking her head.

Climbing onto the sofa, she cradled our son's stuffed animal, cooing gently. I watched, a lump forming in my throat.