Monkey Beach

by Eden Robinson

“So he’s going on Queen of the North?” “Of course, silly,” I said. “We know you pulled some strings. How else could Jimmy get on with your uncle?”

The picture was black-and-white. Josh’s head was pasted over a priest’s head and Karaoke’s was pasted over a little boy’s. I turned it over: Dear Joshua, it read. I remember every day we spent together. How are you? I miss you terribly. Please write. Your friend in Christ, Archibald.

“Dear, dear Joshua. It was yours so I killed it.”

Asshole, asshole, a soldier I will be To piss, to piss, two pistols on my knee

I will fight for my cunt, I will fight for my cunt, I will fight for my country …

For what he did to Karaoke, he knew that Josh deserved to die.

The life raft that Josh threw over the side in the first moments of the crash is nowhere in sight. So Jimmy aims for the shore, lifts his arms in and out of the water, executing the strokes he’s trained all his life to perfect.

“You have a dangerous gift,” she says. “It’s like oxasuli. Unless you know how to use it, it will kill you.”