CHAPTER 19

Evie grins to herself, recalling Cook’s fanciful story about apple pie-eating possums. Why would Cook want to protect the monkeys? Is she also unsure about Rhino going to the zoo?

Evie has watched Cook and Rhino in the garden together. He always appears when she’s hanging out washing and Cook chats to him as they work, always patting him on the nose when they’re done. He saunters after her into the vegetable garden and she feeds him handfuls of freshly picked herbs and potatoes. He’s also become quite partial to turnips. If Rhino even thinks about nibbling at anything else, Cook wags her finger at him.

Evie heads outside in search of the monkeys. With Albine, her trusty off-sider trotting behind her, they commence their investigation.

A bough of a wattle tree is brushing against the house, near the pantry window. Evie’s sure a nimble monkey could climb it and shimmy along a branch to the open window.

Peering out the window, Evie traces the sugary trail from the sill to the branch, to a fork in the tree and down the trunk. At the bottom, there are pastry crumbs! They must have dropped the pie when they leaped down from the tree. She follows the sugary crumbly trail with her heart high in her chest.

Albine burk burks as they follow the clues through the garden. Unfortunately, she begins pecking at the pastry crumbs and Evie has to carry her to stop her from eating the trail.

Albine burk burks her innocence as they push their way between gaps in bushes and hidden holes in hedges. The sugary crumbly trail winds and weaves, veering close to the house, hugging the walls. Evie and Albine follow the trail into the yard, and then it’s gone! They’ve lost it! She huffs a frustrated sigh and walks back and forth across the yard looking for the crumbs. She’s concentrating, with her head down, her blonde hair falling across her face.

“What are you doin’, Evie?” says Mr Duffer, passing through the yard. He removes his tartan cap. “Have you lost somethin’, lass? Do yer need a hand?”

For a moment, Evie’s stumped for an answer. She shakes her head and points to a trail of ants, crouching down to study them. It’s a weak cover story and Evie knows it. But being Grandpa’s farmhand for so long, Mr Duffer’s seen it all before.

“Alrighty.” Mr Duffer looks at her, nodding, and continues on his way.

As Evie stares at the ants, something crystalline sparkles – sugar! And pastry crumbs! They’ve found the trail again, which zigzags across the yard toward the stables.

At the stable door, Evie glances around to make sure no one is about. Then she slips into the quiet dimness inside.

Breathing through her mouth, Evie’s heart bangs against her ribs. Rhino and Dominique and Bernard are out grazing, and the ladies are outside too. There are no animals in the stables. Well, there shouldn’t be, but there’s definitely something in here. Evie can sense it. She moves silently. She can hear rustling!

Burk burk.

It’s too late now for Evie to have second thoughts about bringing her sidekick with her. She strokes Albine’s chest, softly blowing in her ear to quieten her.

Rustle rustle . . .

Evie freezes. Where is that sound coming from? The rustling takes her gaze high into the roof, into the hayloft. Movement!

Rustle rustle . . .

The monkeys are in the hayloft!

What can I do to help them? They have food in their bellies, apple pies to be precise, but Evie wonders if they are warm enough? Is this why they’re in the hayloft?

Evie knows these rhesus monkeys are from India and used to a tropical, warmer climate. She grabs a horse rug – waterproof and lined with thick wool – from the tack room.

Up the ladder, leading to the loft, Evie carries the rug.

Rustle rustle . . .

As Evie climbs the ladder slowly, each rung creaks and squeaks.

Rustle rustle . . .

When Evie reaches the top, she places the rug on the hay.

She’s desperate not to scare the little monkeys. From somewhere deep inside her, she begins to tremble. Her throat quavers as vocal cords stretch and pop and just as she thinks it might hurt, she feels a lightness as a strange sound resonates from inside of her. Evie begins to hum the soft lullaby Mama used to sing to her.

My voice! I can feel it! It’s there, somewhere.

Evie’s voice feels shaky and quavery and weak, but strangely reassuring at the same time. She realizes the loss of Mama and Papa doesn’t hurt quite as much as it used to, that since the shipwreck and the arrival of Rhino, she’s been slowly waking up. She can feel an awakening in her heart.

Evie has to help these little monkeys, and she closes her eyes and sends them a message.

Do not be alarmed little ones.

Rustle rustle . . .

The sound is coming from the far corner of the loft. Evie crawls on her hands and knees, continuing her humming. Parting the hay, she goes deeper and deeper into the loft, crawling on and on. At last, she pushes through the hay only to find two, scared, little pink faces staring back at her. The monkeys are clinging to each other. They’re shivering and they stare at her with fearful, hazel-brown eyes.

Evie sits back on her heels, still humming. She closes her eyes and sends them a message. It’s all right, little ones, it’s all right. I’m going to look after you. She opens her arms to them, like Grandpa does with her, and smiles at them, nodding her head as she hums.

And with that, the little monkeys leap straight into her arms. Evie can tell they’re juveniles. They’re small and lightly built, but one is noticeably smaller. Evie cuddles the little bodies to her. She rocks them back and forth, rubbing their backs and stroking their little heads. They snuggle into her and she can feel them quivering. She can feel their bony ribcages and can see they’ve got a few cuts and bruises.

They’re very friendly, which makes Evie wonder if they had been hand-raised as babies, like Rhino. They soon gain confidence in Evie and begin chattering. In a rush, both chitter chatter at once, as if they’re telling her all about their journey and their hardships. She holds them close, thinking how brave they are.

Evie makes up a warm bed for them using the horse rug. But the monkeys cling to her and won’t let her go, so she sits with them until they do. The larger one is a male, and the smaller one is a female. She places them inside the rug, as snug as bugs, then hurries down the ladder to retrieve Papa’s antiseptic remedy for their wounds.

The little girl doesn’t flinch when Evie dabs the ointment on her cuts. But the larger boy, who has a crazy looking spiky hair-do, sucks the air in through his teeth as if it stings. Evie cuddles them both in apology until they settle.

Every time Evie gazes at the boy monkey, she can’t help remembering her Great Uncle Simon. He had crazy-looking, spiky hair. Come to think of it, Aunt Minette, pink-faced and petite, was like the other little monkey. It’s uncanny how much they resemble her old uncle and aunt.

It’s a tad rude and disrespectful, but she names the monkeys after them anyway. Sorry Uncle Simon! Sorry Aunt Minette!

I hereby name you, Simon, thinks Evie, as she tickles his tummy. Simon gives her a cheesy, gummy grin.

She touches the chest of the smaller monkey. I hereby name you, Minette. Mini for short. It really suits you, Mini, and the little monkey chatters her teeth at her.

Evie cradles them softly, stroking their downy little heads, and thinks how beautiful they are. They sigh and snuggle up and they drift off to sleep.

With a full heart, Evie hurries to the house paddock in search of Rhino. He’s grazing with Dominique and Bernard and he lifts his head in greeting when he sees her and trots over.

Evie wraps her arms around Rhino’s head and gives a little sob of relief. She’s so grateful they’ve at least found two of the little monkeys. Sadly, there is no sign of the baby elephant or the exotic parrots, but she’s doubly grateful for finding the dear little monkeys.

Rhino nuzzles her and it’s then she notices a fine dusting of sugary pastry crumbs all over his head and ears, and Evie laughs and laughs until she hiccups.