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The triumphal appearance of the four chimpanzees on the stage of the Brooklyn Academy of Progressive Ensembles (BAPE) brought them a degree of wider recognition among their fellow New Yorkers of all five boroughs, to whom the quartet of apes remained familiarly known as The Monkeys. Greater recognition did not mean greater financial security─not in this case─but his new, honorary membership at BAPE did set Monkey July ablaze with inchoate visions of how he, too, might make a contribution to progressive ensembles.
To that end, he made a phone call to the director of BAPE, mentioned to the secretary an unspecified but exciting project he thought might go well on one of BAPE's multiple stages, and, though he did not realize at the time the honor he was being accorded, the chimpanzee was granted an appointment within several weeks. During the interval, he occasionally thought about the matter of his offering but could reach no certain conclusions beyond the title.
When the day of the appointment came, he took by himself the subways downtown to Brooklyn on the route he knew so well and soon found himself shaking hands with the director of the academy, a middle-aged woman with warm smile and triangular-framed glasses, who reminded him of an older, more fleshy version of Henrietta von Trockelmeyer at the university museum in New Brunswick, to whom he occasionally managed to sell Monkey June's art work.
"And what have you planned for us that you think would be of interest on our stages?"
"The Zebra and the Flea," replied July without hesitation.
"The Zebra and the Flea?" repeated the director in some surprise. "I'm intrigued. Well, it would be hard to present your project this season."
"I have it," announced the ape. "Allow me to show you where The Zebra and the Flea should be performed."
Without a further word between them, he led the director of BAPE to an alcove next to the lobby of the smaller theater at the academy, beside a staircase leading to the mezzanine; above a doorway cut into the wall beneath the stairs was a sign reading "Men."
"Here," said July.
"What?" exclaimed the director. "In front of the men's room? How will we manage that? And let's not even talk about the fire code."
"It's not a very long play," explained July. "And this way you won't have to sell a lot of
tickets. The scenery won't be very big, either."
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