Lava City

The monkey spent his day mugging tourists, menacing the festival outskirts by the steep-sloped beach with the long grass. He waited in the trees, cool in the shade, watching.

He knew which items to take: jewelry, children’s toys, men’s hats, Sometimes at the food court, women would set their purse on an empty chair beside them; that was monkey’s time to strike.

The goods held ransom, he’d taunt his victim until they gave up some coin. He rarely accepted food in trade unless it was something good like a corn dog. Offers of fruit or crackers were roundly rejected.

This evening he’d chosen a spot in a tree near the fried dough cart. Humans let their guard down while eating, especially a sweet treat. Truth be told, he wouldn’t mind a bite of the sugary pastry himself.

He watched carefully as a potential mark approached the cart. She was a woman of grey hair and great wealth, Monkey knew because she was adorned with gold.

However, she only briefly glanced at the fried dough, then kept moving. A few paces away, she stepped off the stone path, glancing over her shoulder before cutting into the trees.

On the other side of the trees was a workshed, just a little wooden shack in which the fairegrounds keepers kept tools and supplies.

From his high branch, monkey could see over the roof to the obscured side of the shack.

There the woman met with a hooded man. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, never of course seeing the monkey in the tree above.

Feeling secure, she withdrew a handful of coin from her purse. For this, the hooded man exchanged a little black velvet pouch.

The old woman took the pouch into the palm of her hand and delicately removed an item from within. Monkey’s eyes locked in.

A diamond! It was huge, big as a strawberry. The woman held it up to the beams of setting sunlight falling through the treeline. Multifaceted, sparkeling every color at once in a dazzling shimmer, the jewel was magic.

Monkey had to have it.

Normally with such a high value target, he’d work with a partner. There were a few others in the troop he could count on for a caper, but this was no ordinary trinket to be pilfered. Though a score like this might earn him accolades and perhaps even a better rank amongst the troop, he wanted it for himself. He’d run off and start a new life on another beach far away, the jewel hidden where none but he may ever find it.

He watched as the woman tucked the diamond into the pouch and hid it in the dyed leather purse she wore at her side, then parted ways from the hooded man. Monkey was on the move.

He followed her from up high, traversing between tree branches and the tops of the vendors stalls and booths lining the fairegrounds.

He scampered along, stalking, nimbly dodging whatever obstacle came his way, be it a slippery fabric tent top or a shopkeeper’s threatening broom.

At moments, his eyes tore away from the prize, helpless to notice any easy score of food along the way: mangos at an unattended stall, a salty biscuit discarded on the ground. These treats were a sure thing, the diamond a longshot gamble. But he had to have it.

He ignored his stomach aching for the easy food and pressed on his mission, never losing track of the woman as she moved through the fairegrounds.

And then she stopped, pausing at a stall to browse perfumes. Slender fingers examined each ornate glass vial, occasionally squeezing the bulb to test its scent. She’d smile politely to the vendor, taking her merry time unaware of her tiny stalker in the tree above.

Monkey kept his focus well enough when on the move, but sitting still quickly scattered his attention. He got nervous and fidgety. The nearby stalls had similarly tempting items: jewelry, purses, silk scarves, and the like. Big money shopped here, opportunity abound.

As the woman picked up each bottle, he was sure it’d be the last and she’d get back on the move. He needed her to be somewhere less crowded, more vulnerable to mugging.

He envisioned her rounding a lonely corner, out of sight from the crowds.

Maybe she’d stop to tie a shoe or fix her hair, and then he’d deftly swipe the thing from her purse.

But the woman persisted in casual browsing, taking in the marketplace as if she’d never been there before. Monkey felt his heart racing as the sky darkened to night. The longer the chase, the less likely the catch.

When at long last she reached the end of the marketplace strip at the marina, monkey was ready. Silently he swung from branch to branch, waiting for the precise moment she passed through the shadow between two streetlamps.

He dropped down from above, landing just behind her. By the time she turned around, the spry little creature had already lept onto her purse, gripping the leather with one paw while the other reached inside to take the pouch with the diamond.

The woman cried out, but it was too late. Monkey had his prize clutched tight in his paw, never to let go. He jumped off her purse and lept back into the tree.

Up high in the branches, he quickly bit the pouch’s drawstrings between his teeth, freeing up both paws to move. Monkey swung through the trees faster than he’d ever swung before.

Monkey didn’t stop until he was clear across the island. A new beach for his new life with the diamond.