jungle republic

The forest had a language of its own. Keeti did not know the names humans had given to the trees, the rivers, or the mountains. He did not know what a country was. He had never seen a city, never touched a car, and never wondered where the road beyond the forest led. To Keeti, the world was simple. There was the forest. There was his mother. There were the trees that gave them fruit. And there was the sky. Everything else could wait. Keeti was small enough to fit comfortably against his mother's chest when she carried him. His arms were thin, his fingers long, and his brown fur was still softer than the thick coat of the older monkeys. He was also curious. Too curious, according to his mother. "Keeti." The young monkey froze. He was halfway down a branch, staring at something glittering between the leaves. His mother sat several branches above him. "Come back." Keeti looked at the glittering object again. "But what is that?" "I don't know." "You don't know?" "No." "Then we should find out." His mother sighed. "That is exactly why you are always getting into trouble." Keeti smiled. He liked when his mother complained about him. It usually meant she wasn't truly angry. He climbed back toward her. "What if it's food?" "Then it can remain food without you." "What if it's something beautiful?" "Then it can remain beautiful." "What if—" "Keeti." He stopped. His mother's eyes softened. "Some things are dangerous simply because we do not understand them." Keeti looked toward the glittering object. "Are humans like that?" His mother became silent. That silence told Keeti more than words could. He had heard stories about humans. Every monkey in their part of the forest had. Humans walked on two legs. Humans could cross enormous distances without climbing trees. Humans could make fire. Humans could destroy trees. And sometimes, humans entered the forest carrying weapons. Keeti had never met one. He had only heard the adults whisper about them. "They are not all dangerous," his mother finally said. "Have you seen one?" "Yes." "What happened?" His mother's expression changed. "Nothing good." Keeti moved closer. "Tell me." "No." "Please." "No." "Just one story." His mother pulled him against her. "The forest is beautiful because it is full of things we don't know." Keeti frowned. "That's not a story." "It is the only answer you're getting." He laughed. She pushed his head gently. "Now eat." Keeti obeyed. For a while, there was nothing but the sounds of the forest. Leaves moving. Birds calling. Insects humming. Branches cracking under the weight of animals moving through the canopy. The forest was alive. It had been alive long before Keeti was born. And, as far as he knew, it would remain alive forever. But that afternoon, something changed. It began with the birds. They stopped singing. Keeti noticed first. He looked up from the fruit in his hands. "Mother?" She was already standing. "What?" "Why are the birds quiet?" His mother stared toward the eastern edge of the forest. Keeti followed her gaze. Nothing. Only trees. Only shadows. Only wind. Then she smelled it. Smoke. Her body became tense. "Keeti." He dropped the fruit. "Yes?" "Climb." "What?" "Climb as high as you can." "But—" "Now." There was something in her voice Keeti had never heard before. Fear. He climbed. His little fingers wrapped around the branches as he moved higher. His mother followed. "Don't look down." Keeti looked down. She grabbed him. "I said don't look down." "Why?" "Because I said so." Then they heard it. Footsteps. Not four-legged footsteps. Two-legged. Heavy. Slow. Coming through the bushes. Keeti's heart began to beat faster. His mother pulled him against her. Below them, the forest moved. A branch snapped. Then another. Three men emerged between the trees. Keeti had never seen humans before. He stared. They were strange. No fur. Long arms. Clothes covering their bodies. One carried a large bag. Another carried something Keeti did not recognize. His mother covered Keeti's mouth. "Don't make a sound." Keeti nodded. The men stopped. One looked around. "Did you see it?" "No." "Keep searching." Keeti's mother held him tighter. He could feel her heartbeat. Fast. Faster than his. The men moved deeper into the forest. One of them stopped beneath the tree. Keeti stared at him. The man looked upward. Keeti's mother suddenly pulled him backward. A loud crack split the air. Keeti screamed against her hand. Something struck the branch where his head had been. Wood exploded. His mother pushed him. "RUN!" Keeti didn't understand. Then he did. He ran. Branches whipped against his face. Leaves tore beneath his hands. Behind him came shouting. His mother followed. "Keep going!" "Mother!" "Don't stop!" They jumped from one branch to another. Keeti could barely breathe. He looked behind him. His mother was there. Then another sound came. A thunderclap. His mother jerked. She fell. "Mother!" Keeti stopped. She hit the branch below. Blood appeared against her fur. Keeti stared. For one terrible second, the entire forest seemed to freeze. Then his mother looked at him. "Run." Keeti shook his head. "No." "Keeti..." "I'm not leaving you." "Run!" He climbed toward her. Another crack. The branch beside him shattered. His mother pushed herself up. "GO!" Keeti ran. He didn't know where. He didn't know how far. He only knew one thing. He had to survive. Night came. Keeti spent hours hiding inside the hollow of a giant tree. He did not know how he had gotten there. His body hurt. His hands were scratched. His stomach was empty. But none of that mattered. He kept thinking about his mother. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her falling. He pressed his hands against his ears. "No." The forest remained silent. "She's coming." Nothing. "She'll find me." Nothing. Keeti waited. Morning came. His mother did not. The young monkey climbed out of the tree. The forest looked different. It wasn't different. Keeti was. For the first time in his life, he was alone. He walked through the trees. He called for her. "Mother?" No answer. "Mother!" Birds flew away. Keeti searched beneath branches. He searched beside rocks. He searched near the stream. Nothing. By afternoon, his legs were shaking. He sat beneath a tree. He was hungry. Very hungry. Then he smelled something. Bananas. Keeti's head lifted. He followed the smell. It led him toward a clearing he had never visited before. A boy was sitting beside a wooden basket. Keeti stopped. The boy was human. Keeti immediately climbed backward. The boy noticed. He smiled. "Hey." Keeti didn't move. The boy slowly reached into the basket. Keeti prepared to run. The boy pulled out a banana. He placed it on the ground. Then he moved backward. "Here." Keeti stared at the banana. Then at the boy. The boy waited. Keeti approached. One step. Another. He grabbed the banana and jumped backward. The boy laughed. "You don't trust me." Keeti began eating. The boy watched. "My name is Jonah." Keeti stopped chewing. Jonah pointed at himself. "Jonah." Keeti stared. "Can you say it?" Keeti swallowed. "Jo...nah." Jonah's eyes widened. "You can talk?" Keeti tilted his head. Jonah laughed. "No. I mean—" He stopped. "You're strange." Keeti finished the banana. Jonah gave him another. And another. For the first time since losing his mother, Keeti felt something other than fear. Safety. It was a feeling he did not yet understand. Jonah returned the next morning. And the morning after that. Eventually, Keeti stopped hiding. Jonah began bringing fruit. Sometimes bananas. Sometimes mangoes. Sometimes pieces of bread. Keeti loved bread. Jonah discovered this quickly. "You like bread more than bananas?" Keeti nodded. Jonah laughed. "You're definitely strange." Over time, Keeti followed Jonah to a small farm near the edge of the forest. Jonah's father wasn't happy about it. "Absolutely not." "But Dad—" "No wild animals in the house." "He won't cause trouble." "That's what you said about the chicken." "The chicken was different." "The chicken destroyed my vegetable garden." Keeti sat beneath the table, listening. Jonah's father looked at him. Keeti looked back. The man sighed. "Fine." Jonah smiled. "But he stays outside." Keeti nodded as if he understood every word. And perhaps he did. Because Jonah talked to him constantly. He taught Keeti words. Water. Food. Tree. House. Man. Woman. Dog. Fire. Money. Government. That last word fascinated Keeti. "Government," Jonah repeated. Keeti copied him. "Government." "Yes." "What is government?" Jonah scratched his head. "That's complicated." "Why?" "Because humans make everything complicated." Keeti waited. Jonah sat beside him. "Government is... the people who run a country." "What is a country?" "A place where many people live." "Who chooses them?" "Sometimes people." "How?" "Voting." Keeti frowned. "What's voting?" Jonah picked up two stones. "Imagine these are two leaders." He placed them on the ground. "Everyone chooses which one they want." Keeti looked at the stones. "Everyone?" "Everyone." "Even small people?" "Yes." "Even poor people?" "Yes." "Even stupid people?" Jonah burst out laughing. "Why are you asking me that?" Keeti pointed toward the stones. "Who decides who is stupid?" Jonah laughed harder. "I don't know." Keeti stared at him. "Then humans don't know much." Jonah stopped laughing. "Maybe you're right." Keeti looked toward the forest. Then back at Jonah. "Can animals vote?" Jonah's smile disappeared. "What?" "Can animals vote?" "No." "Why?" "Because animals aren't people." Keeti thought about that. "What makes someone a person?" Jonah didn't answer immediately. "I don't know." Keeti looked at his own hands. He could hold things. He could learn words. He could understand Jonah. He could feel sadness. He could feel fear. He could love. He looked back at Jonah. "Then why am I not a person?" Jonah stared at him. For once, he had no joke. No answer. Nothing. Three months passed. Keeti grew stronger. He learned to climb the farm's tallest mango tree. He learned to open simple containers. He learned dozens of human words. He learned that television was full of people who talked endlessly. He learned that humans fought. He learned that humans loved. He learned that humans lied. And he learned that humans could make rules. One evening, Jonah was watching television. A politician was giving a speech. "We promise a better future..." Keeti sat beside Jonah. "What is he doing?" "Talking." "Why?" "He's asking people to vote for him." "Why?" "Because he wants power." Keeti looked at the screen. "What is power?" Jonah thought. "Power means you can make other people do things." Keeti considered that. "Like your father?" Jonah laughed. "Exactly like my father." From the kitchen came a voice. "I heard that!" Jonah lowered the volume. Keeti smiled. Then Jonah stood. "I'll be back." He walked toward the door. Keeti followed. "Where are you going?" "School." "Tomorrow?" "No. Tonight." Keeti frowned. Jonah normally never went to school at night. Jonah's father appeared at the doorway. "Your mother will pick you up." Jonah nodded. He looked at Keeti. "Stay here." Keeti nodded. Jonah left. Keeti watched through the window. The boy walked down the road. Then disappeared into the darkness. That was the last time Keeti saw Jonah. Two days later, Jonah still hadn't returned. Keeti waited. A week passed. Then another. His father became quieter. His mother cried often. Keeti didn't understand everything, but he understood enough. Something had happened. Something bad. One afternoon, Keeti heard a vehicle approaching. He climbed onto the roof. A black vehicle stopped outside the farm. Two men stepped out. One wore a white coat. The other carried a black metal case. Jonah's father came outside. "I told you already," he said. "I don't know anything." The man in the white coat smiled. "We aren't here to discuss your son." Keeti froze.