When Malcolm woke up, the first things he saw, looking up at him from the grass opposite the Chimp Enclosure, were Benny and Bjornita.

“Oh no,” he thought, “not a tortoise again. Please.”

“Well, thank you very much, I’m sure!” said Bjornita.

“Did I say that out loud?” groaned Malcolm.

“You did,” said Benny. “Interestingly, you said it in tortoise. Otherwise we wouldn’t have understood you.”

“Yeah, well that’s because I am a tortoise again …” said Malcolm, reaching out a leg to try to rub his aching head. “Aren’t I?”

He said ‘aren’t I’, partly because he realised that what Benny said didn’t quite make sense – if he was a tortoise, then why was it interesting that he was speaking tortoise? – and partly because the leg he was reaching out to rub his head with appeared to be … covered in feathers.

“No,” said Benny, “you’re a pigeon.”

“And frankly, your tortoise accent is terrible,” said Bjornita.

Malcolm stood up – or rather perched up. He looked around. He looked around some more, at a slightly different angle. He looked around the other way.⁴⁸ He looked at the sky. The sun was either going up or going down. There was no way to tell.

“What happened to my family” he said, in his pigeon⁴⁹ tortoise.

“What family?” said Benny.

“Humans. A mum and dad, a teenage girl, a grandpa and a little boy …”

“Would the teenage girl be taking selfies with every animal?” said Bjornita.

“Yes!”

“And would the little boy be asking if he could eat every animal?” said Benny.

“Yes!”

“We just passed them on the way out …”

“Right! Thanks!” said Malcolm, hopping through the bars and joining them on the grass. He spread his wings. It felt good: he could feel the wind underneath them, ready to lift him … and then:

“Wait a minute,” he said. “What am I doing?”

“Going after your family?” said Benny.

“No, but …” He put his wings down. “They were just here. While I was a chimp. And they didn’t recognise me. How will they recognise me as a pigeon?”

“That’s true,” said Benny. “After all, pigeons do look much less like humans than chimps …”

“Oh, that’s very helpful,” said Bjornita.

“Sorry, but they do.”

“And what time is it?” said Malcolm, looking up into the sky.

“We don’t have much of a sense of time,” said Benny. “It passes a bit slower for us than most …”

“Oh, forget it,” said Malcolm. He looked at the sun. It was about halfway between directly up and the horizon. It couldn’t be mid-morning, so it must be … mid-afternoon.

Oh no.

“OK,” said Malcolm, sounding calmer than he felt. “So in a few hours it’ll be dark, and by tomorrow morning it will have been three days since K-Pax transformed me into an animal.”

“A tortoise!” said Benny, in an upbeat way, but then realised, looking at Malcolm’s sad face, that it probably wasn’t the moment for upbeatness.

“Yes,” said Malcolm, quietly. “So I may as well sit it out here and just accept that I’m never going to get back to being a boy …”

He folded his wings round himself, covering his eyes, and sank down on to the grass. Benny and Bjornita exchanged glances.

Eventually, Bjornita said:

“Malcolm. Listen. I remember when I was a tiny tortoise, and first saw my reflection in a pool of water. I thought: Urrgh. I’m so ugly.”

“Bjornita!”

“Shh, Benny, let me carry on. I did. I know it’s hard to believe. Anyway: my first owner then was a little girl called Victoria who used to live on the farm. And Victoria saw me looking into the pool and I don’t know if – somehow – she knew I was sad, but just at that moment she came over, lifted me up, kissed me on the head and told me she loved me!”

Malcolm didn’t respond. His wings remained wrapped round himself. But the tip of his tiny head was visible, and he was listening. Bjornita continued:

“So the point is, Malcolm – I may not have learned that much in my 149 years on this earth – yes, that’s right, Benny, I said it, 149 – but one thing I have learned is: it may take a little time, but the ones who love you will always be able to see through the outer shell.”

There was a short pause.

Malcolm stirred, a little.

Bjornita looked worried.

Then Benny said, sounding panicked:

“Sorry, do you mean shell as in … shell? Like my shell? They can see through it? To my naked body?”

“No,” sighed Bjornita. “I mean …”

“I know what you mean,” said Malcolm, suddenly looking up. “Thank you, Bjornita. And by the way …” he said, spreading his wings, “you’re beautiful: you don’t look a day over 148.”

And with that, he flew up into the sky.