Story by Bertie.

Read by Richard.

Proofread by Jana Elizabeth.

 

The next morning, Theo sat on the fence of Neet’s garden waiting for breakfast as usual. Normally Neet threw the fruit from his bedroom window, but today he quickly put on his track suit, came downstairs, and cautiously crossed the back garden. Theo looked at him with trusting eyes.

 

“Hey monkey. I’m cross with you,” said Neet. “You didn’t show up for your kung fu lesson. It’s rude to keep people waiting.”

 

Theo replied: “Ooh, aah, ooh ooh,” which meant: “Sorry, I really did mean to come to the lesson, but I had to go to the big city.”

 

Neet did not understand Theo’s gibberish chatter. He held out a banana and said:

 

“I really shouldn’t be giving this to you. In fact, I ought really to call the police.”

 

“Police?” thought Theo. He sniffed the air for the leathery smell of police uniform and listened out for the sound of big feet stepping on twigs. No danger signals hit his senses.

 

“In fact,” said Neet, “perhaps you should find a new hiding place because Sifu might change his mind and call the cops.”

 

Theo jumped down off the fence and took the fruit from Neet’s hand. It was the first time he had come so close as to be within touching distance. He knew that a fugitive should change his hiding place frequently but this place was starting to feel like home and he didn’t want to leave. He was certain that Neet would never break the bond of affection that had grown between them. But what about Sifu? He could not be so sure.

 

Theo really had meant to go to Sifu’s special kung fu class. If he had not heard the outrageous news on the radio he would have been there at 6pm sharp. At lunchtime, up in a tall tree of Burford Woods he had held his talking box close to his ear. The volume was low as the batteries were running down. The newsreader said:

 

“The city’s Mayor will present the police force’s latest recruits at a special ceremony later today. Six monkeys are transferring from the zoo to join the men and women in blue. Their first priority will be to quell the wave of monkey crime that has swept over the city. The Mayor said in a statement – We need monkey cops to fight monkey robbers.”

 

Theo had been trying to lead a quiet semi-retired life in the suburban woods. So far he had felt no desire to take the commuter train up to the city. But this news enraged him to an unusual degree.

 

“What kind of foolery is this? Can’t they see that these stooges in police uniforms are all working for Mr Grabber? The monkeys on the force are nothing better than common criminals!”

 

He lept through the trees propelled by an urge to set things right. He did not yet realise it but he was heading for the railway bridge and soon he jumped down onto the roof of a train heading for the city.

When he arrived at the big Victorian station, he clambered up a cast iron  pillar and swung through the rafters of the roof. Railway officials and passengers craned their necks to look at him. Their reactions were varied.  Some people checked their pockets or their bags for their valuables in case he had snatched a phone or a wallet. Others clapped and cheered and called out: “Good on you monkey! You show the Mayor and the police what useless fools they are!”

 

He found a skylight which lead out  on top of the roof and soon he was scampering over slopes and ledges and leaping across the chasms between buildings.

 

He was heading for the office – well it was more like a palace actually – where the Mayor lived and worked. As he approached he heard the marching beat of a brass band. The music meant that a ceremony was taking place.

 

From the top of a tree overlooking the Mayor’s garden, Theo could see that the city’s leading dignitaries were seated in rows waiting for the proceedings to begin. Here were the chiefs of police, education, sanitation, and parking fines. The actors from a soap opera set in the West End of the city were signing autographs. And of course Mr Grabber the chief zoo keeper had come along and had brought three monkeys with him. Theo wondered if they were his personal bodyguards.

 

The host of the proceedings came on stage. He was a peroxide blond weather man from the 24 hour news channel. He was wearing a summery short sleeve shirt and shivered slightly as the first drops of rain began to fall. He read from an autocue as he announced:

 

“My forecast for today is that this afternoon will be a landmark in the history of policing. And without further ado, it is my honour to give you His Worshipful Excellency The Mayor of our great city.”

The Mayor stepped up onto the platform. His skillfully tailored suit could not fully conceal the overweight proportions of his pudgy body. His personal stylist had not quite managed to tame his unruly shock of hair which still grew luxuriously for a middle aged man. It was these imperfections that endeared him to many citizens and made up for his obvious zest for power and the trappings of high office.

 

“Good afternoon,” he said as the press photographers trained their cameras on him. “In recent times, a plague has infected our glorious city.  No street corner is safe from criminal gangs of monkeys. Every type of larceny – pick pocketing and purse snatching – smashing and grabbing – breaking and entering – carjacking and joy riding – is taking place before our eyes. Our fine police force has responded with courage, but little in the way of convictions. Our bobbies will pursue criminals to the ends of the earth but it is too much to expect them to leap over roof tops. Until today. Today I present to you a new breed of crime fighting cop.”

 

There was a drum roll as six uniformed monkeys skipped onto the stage. They briefly stood up on their hind legs and saluted.

 

The Mayor continued: “From tomorrow our streets will be protected from monkey crime by those who are best suited to pursue monkeys – monkeys themselves. And I would like to send a message to the master monkey criminal known as Theo – if you are watching this, be afraid!”

 

The band began to play some action type music. This was the signal for the monkey cops to demonstrate what they could do. In perfect unison they performed a slick martial arts routine – with slices, punches and kicks. Theo had seen something like this before through the window of Burbington village hall when Sifu was holding his kung fu lesson.

 

“How cunning!” he thought. “Mr Grabber has persuaded the stupid Mayor and the police to train up his monkeys to be better criminals!” He could hold back his fury no more. From the top of the tree he screeched: “Ah ah ah ooooh ah!” which meant: “You filthy infiltrators! You vipers in the nest! I will make sure that everyone understands just who you really are even if it’s the last thing I do!”

 

Not everyone heard his screeches over the sound of the music but Mr Grabber did. He would recognise that voice anywhere. The police monkeys also knew who he was. They had shared a cage in the zoo with Theo when they were all young and innocent. Two of them broke out of their martial arts routine and pointed to the tree where Theo was perched. Theo knew he should have run away but something inside him urged him to make a reckless demonstration in defiance of the corrupt powers in the city. He did not escape. On the contrary, he climbed down the tree and ran towards the podium. The police monkeys all struck threatening poses ready to deliver kicks and blows.

 

Theo flew at them with little skill but lots of determination. Despite his spirited and valiant fighting he would surely have been overwhelmed had it not been for the three monkeys who had come with Mr Grabber. They joined the fray on Theo’s side. The punching, biting, kicking, scratching and screaming was something awful.

 

The band struck up a jazzy tune and the stars from the  West Enders rose to their feet and joined the fight though it was not clear on which side. The human cops stood back. This was no business of theirs. Had not the Mayor just said that it was a job for monkeys to fight monkeys? Well let him see with his own eyes how effective his new police policy was. Not very,  judging by the damage to property and the chaos and disorder all round.

 

The audience were on their feet cheering on one side or the other as if they were gladiators in an arena. It was the best bit of blood sport the city had seen since Roman times. Eventually, under the cover of chaos, Theo withdrew while the others continued the fight. He sneaked away behind the stage and the refreshment tents, across the lawn, into some bushes, over the fence, and into the surrounding streets.

 

Soon he was making his way to the railway station bounding over the roof tops and above the view of the city’s 10000 prying police cameras. He caught a train for Burbington, but by the time he reached his woodland home he had missed his martial arts lesson. Instead the weary monkey licked his war wounds and fell into a deep sleep inside a nest of leaves.

That was the story that Theo would have told to Neet had he been able to speak human, or had Neet been able to speak monkey. But as neither friend could fully communicate with the other they had to make do with a look of apology in Theo’s brown eyes.

 

It was all okay. There was no way a boy would be cross with a friendly monkey for long. Theo had brought his radio with him. He showed it to Neet who turned it on. All that sounded from the box was a faint hissing sound.

 

“It needs new batteries,” said Neet. “Wait there, I’ll get some from my parents’ shop.”

 

And Theo waited in the garden for his friend to return, thinking: “I wonder if Sifu will be so understanding?”

 

And that was the end of the third part of this mini series about Theo the monkey.