They Called Him “Two by Four”

[February 8, 2026]  A buddy of mine in junior high school went by the name “Two by Four.”   I have no idea why he was called that but rumor has it that he used a 2×4 piece of lumber to beat up a guy trying to steal his girlfriend.  The year was 1966 or 67.  The town was Harlingen, Texas (roughly a 15 minute drive to Mexico).

His real name was Juan, but because there were so many Juans in south Texas, Two by Four was a way to stand out.  His nickname generated several theories about his personality, but I think it was his appearance.  Two by Four always dressed in rags.  Yet, he was huge, not fat but muscular.  And he liked working with his hands.  No one made fun of him, either.  The implication was that he would beat you up (or his friends would also) if you said anything about his name.

One day we were riding around in his brother’s 1949 Chevrolet coupe when Two by Four suddenly pulled over in a neighborhood with several new homes being built.  “Hey, watch this.”  Where had I heard this before, usually before something dumb happened?  An instant before I could speak up, he was out of the car and headed straight for a new house that was framed, but that’s all; no walls, except for a roof.  Construction materials were laid all about.

Two by Four was pulling himself up into the exposed rafters, and hung there with one hand.  That dude was strong.  “My buddy is here and I want you to meet him,” he said in a Tex-Mex accent.  Or something like that.  His buddy was a real live monkey, sporting what looked like a mustache!  Later, I would find out this was a long-tailed macaque, and treated as pets in some crazy folks’ homes.

The next thing I know, the monkey is in the car with us and Two by Four driving around town with the windows down and the monkey climbing around the inside of the car and hanging out the window bearing his teeth and screaming at pedestrians.  “Great!”  I thought for sure that the sheriff would pull us over but that didn’t happen.  Fortunately, after about what seemed like hours, but likely ten minutes, the monkey leapt out as the car slowed to let someone pass.

Two by Four abandoned the car in the middle of the street, and started chasing the monkey down Main Street.  People’s heads turned and they pointed at the spectacle.  I was horrified.  All I needed was the Sheriff or someone calling my Mom or, worse, my Dad, to say I was kidnapping that long-tailed creature; screaming like he was being tortured.  The monkey was too fast, and got away, making all sorts of disgusting noises.  The last we saw of this monkey was when he ran into a women’s clothing store.

The following day in class, Two by Four stopped me, and said not to mention the monkey to anyone.  Yeah, for sure, I would never say a word.  I was scared that we might get thrown in jail for having a monkey in a car.  The fear was unrealistic but kids don’t know better at that young age.  Both of us were maybe 14 or 15 at the time, and Two by Four had only been driving a couple of weeks (yep, legal driving in Texas at 14).

Students were talking about an escaped monkey somewhere downtown that had gone into a store while terrifying women and young children.  Now that brought a smile to my face.  “Knock off that smirk,” Two by Four said.  We would just play dumb and keep our heads low.  And of course, Two by Four couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

By the end of the day, we were both in the Principal’s office being questioned about an escaped monkey.  The staff threatened us by calling the town Sheriff who would surely throw us in jail.  I was scared.  Two by Four treated the school staff like it was a joke.  Surprisingly, this must have paid off because we were told to get back to class.  All this over a lost monkey?

This wasn’t over a lost monkey.  It was about something more sinister.  A recent outbreak in rabies had been reported and monkeys can carry the disease.  The fear of locals was real.

We never saw the monkey again.

Two by Four’s friends called me “perrito.”  Today I know that it means “little dog.”  At the time, I had no idea.  At least that was better than Juan’s brother who was referred to simply as “caca.”  And even I could figure that out, and most folks didn’t like him.

The towns’ folks forgot all about the incident.  And Two by Four and I were nobodies again.  There are some advantages to being a dumb kid.  This was one of them.

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Please read my books:

1. “55 Rules for a Good Life,” on Amazon (link here).
2. “Our Longest Year in Iraq,” on Amazon (link here).