CHAPTER 20

Evie hurries into the pantry only to find Cook has made a basket of food for the little monkeys. It’s full of miniature-sized apple pies and rhubarb stalks and nuts and seeds. Evie picks up one of the mini apple pies, which fits perfectly into the palm of her hand.

Breathless, she dashes to the study to grab a book before racing back into the kitchen. She plonks it on the table and wraps her arms around Cook’s waist.

“Did yer find ’em, child?” asks Cook, kissing the top of Evie’s messy cloud-like hair.

Evie nods and waves two fingers at Cook.

“Two! I thought there might ’ave been two of ’em in me pantry. Poor little beggars, they looked pretty scrawny when I saw ’em. Scared the life outta me, and me outta them!”

Evie picks the book up from the table and opens it. It’s Britannica’s World Encyclopedia of Animals and she flicks to a page marked “Rhesus Monkeys” and holds it open to show Cook.

“’Tis them! Is that what they are? Ree-sus mon-kees. Dear little mites. Years ago, Evie, I had a wonderful ol’ uncle who was a merchant sailor. Traveled the world, he did. Anyways, he ’ad himself a little monkey. Sweetest thing yer ever did see. I ’ave a real soft spot for ’em.”

Evie closes the book and stares at Cook with wide, questioning eyes.

“Don’t worry, Evie child, I’ll not dob yer in. I’ve ’eard yer Grandpa talk enough ’bout them zoos and those poor animals livin’ in captivity. I wouldn’t wish for the little mites to live such a life,” says Cook, smiling at her.

“Knock, knock,” says Paddy.

Evie and Cook give a start, looking at each other in surprise. Neither of them heard Paddy arrive.

“Git on with yer now, child,” says Cook.

“Mornin’ to yer, cousin,” says Paddy, walking into the kitchen.

“Mornin’, Paddy,” says Cook, glancing at Evie.

Evie knows Paddy’s arrival only means one thing. She stands frozen, fixated on him.

“Got a letter for Mr Strahan. It looks important, so I thought I’d better bring it ’ere straight away,” says Paddy, pointing to the gold crest.

“Oh, it is, Paddy,” Cook tut tuts. “Mr Strahan has bin wonderin’ on the zoo representative’s whereabouts. Thank yer for bringing it.” Cook puffs and pants as she bustles out of the kitchen in search of Grandpa.

Evie remains rooted to the spot, her eyes never leaving the letter in Paddy’s hands.

Grandpa appears from the study and a look of worry passes between him and Cook, who is twisting her hands in her apron.

“Will yer stay for a cuppa, lad?” asks Cook.

“Thank yer, cousin, and I’d love a slice of yer apple pie?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, lad. We’re a bit short on apple pie at the moment.”

“Oh, it’s not those possums again, is it?” says Grandpa, exasperated.

“No, no,” says Cook. “I just need ter make more.”

Grandpa beckons Evie into the study and she follows, her eyes downcast.

She stands with her back to the fire, watching Grandpa, her eyes too large for her face. Grandpa sits down at his desk and Albine perches quietly on her cushion in one of the wing chairs, watching on.

Grandpa opens the letter and reads aloud.

26th August 1891

Dear Sir,

After several delays, due to difficulties in constructing a bullock dray designed to carry a rhinoceros, please be advised that on September 2, a party of Zoo representatives will depart Melbourne to travel overland to the village of Breamlea to where the said rhinoceros from the fateful shipwreck of the steamship SS Bancoora was last sighted.

Leading this party is Mr George Henley, a Royal Melbourne Zoo representative. Weather permitting, the journey to Breamlea should take four days with an estimated arrival on September 6. A team of expert large species animal handlers will be accompanying the zoo representative in a purpose-built bullock dray to ensure the immediate re-capture of the rhinoceros to secure its return journey back to Melbourne.

Yours sincerely,

Sir Douglas Henley

Director Royal Melbourne Zoo

Royal Park, Parkville, Victoria

Grandpa sighs and hands the letter to Evie to read.

“Look at the date, Evie. It’s the twenty-sixth of August. Today is the second of September, so they won’t be with us for another four days. Although pulling such a heavy dray through this weather will not be easy.”

Evie feels the blood drain from her face. The room sways and she feels a swooping in her belly. She knew this was coming. But after nearly two months, it never felt like it would ever actually happen. It never felt real. Grandpa has told her over and over, she can’t keep Rhino. She knows he doesn’t belong to her, but she can’t imagine life without him. A rising, aching blackness fills her. With trembling hands, she wails as she scrunches the letter up and hurls it into the open fire.

“Evie — your voice?” says Grandpa, stunned as he looks from Evie to the letter burning in the fire.

Evie takes off and races outside to find Rhino. She runs blindly, searching for him, trying to find her Rhino. Tears stream down her face as she stumbles through the long, wet grass.

Rhino hears her footfalls before he sees her. He raises his head and knows immediately that something is wrong. He huffs as he trots to her. He snuffles her face and licks away her tears. Hurrying to the fence, Evie scrambles up onto his back and away they gallop down the paddock.

Rhino eases up when they reach the creek. He stands on the banks with Evie astride him, hugging him. He bleats to her, distressed by the sound of her crying.

Grandpa soon appears on Bernard, both horse and rider huffing and puffing. Dismounting, Grandpa moves toward her, but Evie puts her hand up to halt him. Evie rises to a standing position on Rhino’s back and raises her small clenched fists above her in the air. She’s red-faced and furious. Her cheeks are tear-streaked and blotchy and her hair hovers around her face like a halo.

Rhino remains very still, but turns his head and stares at Grandpa.

Evie feels something unbearably hot rise up into her throat. She knows then and there, it’s happening. She takes a deep breath and lets go of something inside of her, something aching and black she’s been holding onto. Everything she’s suffered. Her body goes limp, but then it roars back to life with anger and she lets it go with a heart-wrenching cry.

Grandpa’s shoulders begin to shudder and shake. He sobs silently, his expression worn and weary.

Rhino closes his eyes and throws his head back, joining Evie in a bellow full of love and loss and sorrow.

Evie puts her hand on her heart and, taking another lungful of breath, she screams again. She screams for her mama and for her papa. She screams for all the things they should be doing together. She screams for Rhino, her fears for him and her fierce love for him. She screams for the baby elephant, separated from its mama, lost and alone, and for the little monkeys taken so far from their home.

Evie screams with all her strength, until all the pain, all the aching blackness that filled her is gone, until there’s nothing left inside her.

With tears trickling down his cheeks, Grandpa walks toward them. He stands before Evie and opens his arms.

“Oh, Evie. Come to me, my darling girl,” he sobs.

“You can’t have him,” Evie cries, in a desperately thin voice. “I won’t let you have him. You can’t take him and give him to that awful place.”

“At last,” Grandpa sobs through his tears. “Your voice . . .”

It’s a bittersweet moment and Evie can’t help herself as she continues to plead and cry. She goes on and on until finally her voice breaks, dropping to a raspy whisper.

“He’s mine and I love him. And he loves me. He’s happy here and so am I. Please don’t take him from me, Grandpa. Please don’t let them take him away from me. Please, Grandpa.”

Grandpa steps forward. “I love him, too,” he says, and he reaches for Evie.

She slides off Rhino’s rump into Grandpa’s open arms. Both fear there’s no way out of this. That there’s nothing they can do. That the zoo owns Rhino.

“We’ll get through this, Evie. We’ve done it before and we’ll do it again. Just you and me. Rhino will be fine, he’s a kindly fellow and he’ll adapt to life in the zoo,” says Grandpa. “We can go and visit him.” But as they cling to each other, Grandpa’s words ring hollow in Evie’s ears.

Rhino makes a strange, strangled bleating sound. He nudges at them, pushing between them as he snuffles and licks their faces.

Evie and Grandpa laugh through their tears and scratch his neck and tickle his ears. They know Mr George Henley from the Royal Melbourne Zoo will be arriving soon to take Rhino away forever.

It’s the first time Rhino has heard the golden-haired child bellow. And bellow she did, loudly, with frustration and then anger. Impressive, for such a small human. She bellowed and bellowed until she was completely empty, until the blackness inside of her was gone. She’s free, but it’s left her as empty as a husk. The human child wants something with all her heart. He can sense a yearning. There’s a fragile weakness to her tone as she begs and pleads. He doesn’t know what it means. If he knew, he’d help her. He’d do anything for the golden-haired child. He can’t stand it and bleats to calm her, to reassure her. He snuffles her face and tries to lick her pain away.