The helper monkeys appeared in the dead of the night. They came in through the window at one minute past midnight, along with the hoot of an owl and the bark of three dogs. They came with twinkly eyes, skinny tails, an eye patch or two and one of those cute little fez hats with a gold tassel on top.
Harry watched them with one eye open and the bedcovers pulled up to his chin. He was snagged halfway between shock and delight. Should he move? Should he formally welcome them? What would his first order be?
Would they call him ‘Master’?
It all began the day before, right after breakfast and right before leaping onto his bike. Harry pushed off on the pedals and took off down the street, the sun on his face, the wind whistling through his teeth – ahh, the freedom! A fresh new day, a whole new adventure to unfold …
‘HARRY!!!’
His chest slumped. His head dropped. Maybe he could act like he hadn’t heard her. Yes, yes, that’s what he’d do—
‘HARRY! I know you can hear me!’
Groan.
Harry slammed on the brakes and turned the bike around. His face turned a curious shade of pink, and I can’t be sure but I’m thinking maybe a little bit of steam puffed from his ears.
‘Don’t even think about riding away, young man.’ Mum fussed about on the driveway, kicking stones onto the road. ‘Your bedroom is an absolute write-off. I’ve been asking you to clean it for a week. And the pile of undies on the floor – well, let’s just say a family of cockroaches have moved in.’
‘Muuuumm!’ Harry moaned.
‘Really, Harry? You’re okay living with the cockroaches?’
Harry plodded into the house and stomped up the stairs to his room. Of course, he had to push hard on the door to get inside. There were shoes, books, a broken tennis racquet, a deflated basketball and an unpacked schoolbag from last term (he could smell the rotten banana through the canvas). There was Lego, a mountain of damp towels and an entire kitchen cupboard of used plates and bowls. They kind of ponged.
He also had to step over the pile of undies, and the roaches went scurrying. He hated it when Mum was right.
‘Trouble in paradise?’
Harry looked up. There, in the window, was Meg. She had climbed the mango tree and was perched on a branch with her elbows on the windowsill, peeling a mango with her teeth.
‘Well, it’s my kind of paradise.’ Harry crossed his arms. ‘It has everything I need … comfort … cool stuff … delicious snacks …’ He eyed the empty chip packets, the bowls – all stinky with caked-on food – and the gnarled apple cores, shrivelled and buzzing with fruit flies. ‘It’s … it’s … just the way I like it.’
‘Sure it is.’ Meg swung her legs over the window frame and jumped into the room, wiping her sticky mango fingers on Harry’s bedsheets. ‘Want some?’ she asked.
‘I don’t want mango.’ Harry paced back and forth – well, he hobbled and wobbled over the mountain of towels and the prickly Lego bits. ‘I want freedom! I want the sun on my face and the wind in my teeth!’
‘So let’s go, then! My bike’s outside—’
‘Harry! Is that Meg in there with you?’
‘Yessss, Mummmm!’ Harry called and his eyes rolled back so far that he could see his own brain.
‘Hello, Mrs Tidy!’ Meg added.
‘Hi, Meg! Harry has to clean his room, so no nicking off!’ Mum called through the door before disappearing downstairs with a washing tub full of despair.
Harry groaned. Then his face lit up. ‘I know – why don’t you help me? We could get it done twice as fast, and then we could go riding …’
‘Uh-uh – no WAY! Not on your life. I’m not going anywhere near those undies. I’d need a hazmat suit.’ Meg flopped onto the bed and put her hands behind her head. ‘You’re on your own, Hazza.’
‘You’re supposed to be my best friend.’ Harry rubbed his foot after one too many Lego spikes to the heel.
Meg sat up and looked around the room. It was pretty bad. I mean, this mess was the mega mess of all mega messes. Harry would be cleaning for a week, minimum. She was annoyed. The holidays had only just begun – it was time for some fun.
‘Why do you even let it get like this?’
Harry shrugged and mumbled something that may have been, ‘I dunno.’
Meg thought for a moment. ‘What you really need is a band of helper monkeys. They’d clean it up in no time. Or goats. But then, goats would just eat everything …’
Harry stopped pacing. Goats were tempting. But he did want to hang onto his undies. Not that goats would want to eat those undies, he guessed. But then, who knew what goats liked? Anything’s good with a little tomato sauce.
But the helper monkeys … now, there was an idea. He plopped down on the bed next to Meg.
‘So… where do you – you know – where do you get helper monkeys from? Is there a shop or something?’
Meg polished off the mango and threw the pit onto Harry’s undies pile. The fruit flies swooped.
‘I’ve heard …’ Meg turned and crossed her legs, then leaned towards Harry with a whisper, ‘… but you cannot tell a soul.’
‘Not a soul.’ Harry placed his hand on his heart.
‘Have you heard about Old Lady Meddle?’
‘Of course – who hasn’t?’
‘You know she’s, like, totally weird, right?’
‘Yeah …’
‘I mean really weird,’ said Meg. ‘And you know her husband hasn’t been seen for years, right? And no one knows where he went …’
‘Yeah … I know it.’ Harry swallowed a dark lump in his throat.
‘Well,’ said Meg, quite brightly, ‘she has helper monkeys! My mum saw them once. Old Lady Meddle is, like, a hundred-and-eighty now. She can’t even bend down to put on a sock. So she found the helper monkeys online.’
Harry’s eyes went wide. ‘Do you know the website?’
‘I don’t, but … I don’t know – maybe helpermonkey.com?’
‘Let’s look!’ Harry grabbed his laptop.
Of course, helpermonkey.com didn’t exist. When they typed in the address, there was just a black-and-grey screen with 404 – FILE NOT FOUND all over it.
‘Well, that’s disappointing.’ Harry stared at the screen.
‘That’s it, then,’ said Meg. ‘We have to go visit Old Lady Meddle.’
‘Really?’ Harry groaned. ‘Do we really have to do that?’
‘What do you want, Harry? Do you want the wind in your teeth or the pong of cockroach undies in your nostrils?’
Harry thought for a moment. Then he dashed out of the room and called down the stairs, ‘Mum – me and Meg are cleaning! Don’t come up, we want to surprise you!’
‘Ha!’ called Mum. ‘Can’t wait for the surprise!’
Harry hauled the vacuum cleaner into the room, shut the door, plugged it in and turned it on. Then, as quick as a cockroach scurry, he and Meg scooted down the mango tree, jumped on their bikes and pedalled off to see Old Lady Meddle.
And you know what? She was lovely! Truly, she really was! The three of them laughed and laughed over fluffy scones with jam and cream, clinking their teacups in a delightful tearoom bursting with sunshine and wallpaper flowers.
‘Oh, you kids of today.’ Old Lady Meddle smiled and her face turned to crinkles. Her white hair glowed. ‘You’re running on adventure! On outdoor pursuits! On imaginary worlds! On moonbeams! You can’t be burdened with tidy, with neat as a pin!’
The kids nodded. It felt great to be understood.
Harry looked around the room. He almost dared not ask. ‘So, it’s true? You really do have helper monkeys?’
‘Did have.’ The old lady sipped her tea. ‘I don’t really need them since my husband left the house. Old Man Meddle was the mess-maker, you know. Endless mess – all day long and everywhere! And me – well, I’m pretty much perfect. Do you see any mess? No, you do not,’ she said, swiping up a scone crumb with her finger.
Indeed, the house was as tidy and as neat as a billion pins. Maybe even a billion and a half.
‘Is there any chance …’ Harry licked the cream from around his mouth.
‘There is every chance.’ The old lady smiled again and Harry marvelled as her face crinkled over. If she wasn’t a hundred-and-eighty, she was certainly at least a hundred-and-seventy-nine.
‘We tried helpermonkey.com …’ said Meg.
‘Yes – that’s the correct address.’ Old Lady Meddle leaned forwards. ‘You just need a certain code. Here – I’ll write it all down for you. You enter the code and then you’ll be taken to an app. From there, you’ll need to confirm your identity – a code will be sent to your phone. Then subscribe to the newsletter and follow @Helper_Monkeys on Twitter. Then you place your order and the monkeys will appear in the early morning of the following day. If you’ve been approved, of course. We don’t just send helper monkeys to anyone, you know.’
Harry and Meg looked ready to burst. Harry was beside himself. This would change his life.
‘Well, you scallywags? What are you waiting for?’
Both kids jumped to their feet. But then Harry stopped. ‘Mrs Meddle – we’re so sorry to hear about your husband. You must miss him very much.’
‘Not really,’ Old Lady Meddle replied. ‘He was never very helpful. He’s better off where he is now – let’s just say he’s been put to good use!’
The kids bid her farewell and picked up their bikes from the front garden. It was a beautiful garden, blooming with flowers and fruit trees and a veggie patch popping with tomatoes and beans and a prickly nest of mulberries. Right in the middle of the patch was a scarecrow wearing a plaid shirt and floppy hat.
‘Oh look,’ said Harry. ‘Let’s grab some berries before we go.’
‘Harry—’
‘Wait – wait, I’ll just grab some more …’
That’s when the scarecrow swooped.
‘Harry! Run!’
‘And don’t you come back!’ the scarecrow screeched, shaking its fist as the kids ran for their bikes and flew down the street towards Harry’s house.
‘How’s it coming along, Harry?’ Mum called from behind the bedroom door.
‘Good, good, Mum! It’s a lot of work. May take me till tomorrow …’
‘That’s perfectly fine,’ said Mum. ‘So long as it’s done.’ And she disappeared down the stairs with an ironing basket full of misery.
Meg and Harry were hunched over his laptop. It had taken a while to calm down over the scarecrow scare, but they were keen to get into the old lady’s instructions. Everything had gone well so far, and Harry was now hovering his cursor over the CONFIRM button.
He looked up. ‘Are we sure we want to do this?’
‘Of course!’ Meg rolled her eyes. ‘Who wouldn’t?’
Harry hesitated. ‘I dunno. It’s just that saying – you know? Be careful what you wish for?’
‘This isn’t a wish!’ said Meg. ‘This is a need!’
‘True,’ said Harry, and he clicked CONFIRM. ‘Well, I guess that’s it, then.’
‘Yep,’ said Meg. ‘Right, I’m off.’
‘What? Why? What am I going to do now?’
‘I dunno.’ Meg climbed onto the window sill. ‘Chillax? The monkeys will appear tonight and they’ll have things cleaned up in no time. I reckon by the time your mum and dad’s alarm goes off in the morning, your room will be spick and span.’
Harry sat down on the bed as Meg disappeared down the mango tree. He smiled. He didn’t know why his heart was thundering in his throat, but he felt happy. He went down for dinner and promised his mum there’d be a big reveal after breakfast the next day, and that things were going to be ‘very different’ from now on.
Then he went to sleep.
The monkeys arrived at one minute past midnight, yes indeed they did. And they were fabulous. Really easy to work with, charming and very helpful. Everything went super well, and from then on, all was perfect in Harry’s life.
JOKING!
The monkeys arrived at one minute past midnight, yes indeed they did. And they were fabulous. Really easy to work with, charming and very helpful. There were twenty-four monkeys – one for each hour of the day. It was shift work, really.
Although they did not speak and could not call Harry ‘Master’, they did bow their heads a lot, and this made Harry feel very special. Not only did the helper monkeys clean Harry’s room until it was spick and span, they polished the bathroom, popped on three loads of washing and powered through a car-sized pile of ironing.
They were so whisper-quiet, Harry managed to get back to sleep. And if you’re wondering how incredibly efficient these helper monkeys were (in case you’re thinking of getting yourself some), let’s just say Harry’s entire bed was stripped, the sheets washed, dried, ironed, spritzed with some lovely linen water and replaced, all while Harry slept. I know!!
Now, the thing about helper monkeys is that they really do like to help. They love to be useful. They rarely sleep and they … well, they get kind of bored when they’re not helping. So, when the monkeys had done every single thing they could possibly do to help Harry – yes, even deal with that cockroach undies pile – they became instantly bored.
As Harry slept, two of them sat by his bed and straightened his covers every time he moved. Another one sat on his forehead and wiped every slip of drool that seeped from his mouth. Another one used a little fan to blow away any stinky trails that leaked from the bed covers, and yet another sat on the windowsill and snaffled any bugs that floated in on the breeze.
When Harry woke, he remembered the monkeys. He smiled an enormous smile and stretched from his eyebrows to his toes.
Then he opened his eyes.
A monkey face – the one with the fez hat – was peering down at him. Then a long monkey finger shot forwards and began digging the sleep out of the corner of his eye.
‘Ach!’ Harry leaped from the bed. ‘What are you doing? No!’ he wailed as the helper monkey leaped onto his shoulder and tried again. ‘Eeep! Let go of me!’ Another monkey had grabbed his feet and was shoving them into slippers. Two others were angling his arms into a robe, and two more were pushing him out the door and into the bathroom.
He was just about to protest when one of the monkeys – a big one with an eye patch – grabbed Harry by the face and shoved a toothbrush in his mouth, scrubbing furiously. Another started brushing his hair and yet another was polishing the toilet seat in readiness for Harry’s early morning—
‘Harry!’ It was Dad. ‘Breakfast!’
‘And then the big room reveal!’ Mum called up the stairs. ‘We can’t wait!’
Harry panicked. He threw off the monkeys and ran into his room. He tried to close the door behind him, but the monkeys were far too quick. One was laying out his clothes, three were making the bed, and another was brushing the carpet free of his footprints as he walked. Another was walking behind him with a can of air freshener, spritzing his backside.
‘Ahhh!’ Harry yelled. ‘Leave me alone!’
He dashed for his phone and only just beat a monkey to it. He quickly texted Meg. ‘HELP! MNKEYS HERE BUT GONE WILD. HURRY!’ But before he could send it, one of the monkeys grabbed the phone, corrected the typo, then pressed send.
By the time Meg made it up the tree and through the window, Harry had been dressed, washed, combed and had his hair checked for fleas. He sat neatly on a perfect bed while a monkey in a doctor’s coat took his blood pressure. Meg was relieved, because Harry really did look like he was going to pop.
As soon as Meg jumped into the room, the monkeys stopped. Their heads spun around and they dashed for her. She was, after all, quite windblown. Her hair was a nest on top of her head and her clothing was covered in mango juice from the night before. Out came the sponges, the sprays, the broom and the vacuum cleaner.
‘What the—?!’ she cried, as her hair was sucked up into the vacuum cleaner then checked over for fleas.
‘We need to get out of here!’ Harry cried, but the monkeys were too many, too fast and too clever. Every move the kids made, the monkeys were onto them. They could barely move without being pounced upon and tidied.
Meg became so frustrated, a bad word may or may not have dropped from her mouth. And do you know what those helpful monkeys did? Have you ever heard about washing someone’s mouth out with soap?
It was the wailing and the thumping that finally brought Mum and Dad upstairs (plus the sheer curiosity of seeing what Harry was up to), and when they opened the door, they could have been knocked over with a feather duster.
Harry and Meg were trying to make a break for it. Smothered by monkeys wielding cleaning products and vacuuming up every stray eyelash, both kids were walking like robots across the room, with twenty-four monkeys stuck fast.
‘Great balls of fire!’ cried Dad.
‘Oh my goodness, Harry – your room looks AMAZING!!’ cried Mum. ‘I’ve never seen the carpet so clean!!’
‘Who let these monkeys in?!’ cried Dad.
‘They’re so cute!’ cried Mum. ‘Those mirrors! Gasp! The windows! Harry – look what they’ve done with your closet!’
‘Who said you could have monkeys?!’ cried Dad.
‘Oh Harry – your room is breathtaking – and look at the bathroom! The bathroom!!’ cried Mum.
‘HELP!’ cried Harry and Meg.
Then – DING-DONG!
Everyone stopped.
‘Now, who could that be at a quarter to eight on a Sunday morning?’ Mum trotted off down the stairs with a bucketful of hope.
Dad, Harry and Meg followed. Well, Dad followed and the kids loped. Loping is the only way to move when you have twelve monkeys attached to your body. As they loped down the hallway, Mum opened the front door, and there before them stood Old Lady Meddle and the scarecrow.
Harry and Meg froze. When the old lady saw them, coated in helper monkeys, she threw back her head and screeched with laughter. Old Man Meddle peeled off his scarecrow hat and joined in. Then the monkeys joined in, too.
Mum and Dad didn’t screech. They were speechless. So were Harry and Meg.
Then Old Lady Meddle stopped, held up her hand and snapped her fingers. The monkeys scattered then disappeared through the front door. ‘Lesson learned?’ she winked at Harry. ‘You’re welcome.’ Then she took her scarecrow husband’s hand and they left, giggling all the way down the driveway.
Mum and Dad turned and stared at the kids.
Harry shrugged. ‘I … I …’ Then he mumbled something that sounded a bit like, ‘I dunno.’
Of course, we all know Harry didn’t learn his lesson. What kid really wants to be tidy and neat as a pin when they have adventure, outdoor pursuits, imaginary worlds and moonbeams to explore?
Then, on the other hand, there’s adults.
That afternoon, Mum picked up Harry’s laptop. ‘Harry will be back from his bike ride soon. Quickly – let’s see what we can find. He called them helper monkeys … type in “helper monkey”. That’s it. Oooh – helpermonkey.com. That might be it?’
‘And what’s this here – looks like a note with a list of instructions …’ said Dad. ‘Oh – the website has no access. Maybe we need this code? I’ll type it in. What do you think? Will I hit enter?’
‘Are you kidding me? Did you see that bathroom? Let’s do it,’ said Mum. ‘What could go wrong?’
