Authors: Alan MacDonald
The monkeys were coming over. There were five of them with curly tails and wrinkled old men’s faces.
“Hi,” gulped Bertie. “It’s okay … um, I won’t hurt you.”
“EEEH EEEH EEEEEH!” screeched the smallest monkey. He had tiny teeth which looked as sharp as needles.
“I’m stuck,” explained Bertie. He offered the bread roll. “Anyone like cheese and peanut butter?”
The small monkey crept closer and suddenly made a grab for the roll. He scampered away holding it in his paws. This led to a fight with screeching and rolling around in the dirt. At last the small monkey escaped with his prize. The others chased him but he leaped out of their reach.
“HEY! GET OFF!” cried Bertie.
The monkey was perched on his head, clutching his cheese and peanut butter roll.
This is getting ridiculous,
thought Bertie.
Now I’m being used as a picnic table!
Meanwhile, the rest of the class were watching the penguins dive-bomb their pool.
“Do you think Bertie’s all right?” Eugene whispered.
“He’ll be fine,” said Darren. “We’ll check on him later.”
Eugene couldn’t help worrying. What if they couldn’t go back for him? What if the coach drove off leaving Bertie behind? He might be stuck there all
night. He might be stuck there forever!
Miss Boot stood over them, doing a headcount.
“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine…”
Someone was missing. She groaned. How many times had she told them to stay together? She ran through the list of likely suspects. Darren – here, Royston – here, Bertie… Where was Bertie? She might have known. He’d probably wandered off to the reptile house or somewhere.
“Where’s Bertie?” she asked Eugene.
Eugene turned scarlet. “Oh, um … isn’t he here?” he mumbled.
“No, he’s not,” said Miss Boot. She raised her voice. “Has anyone seen Bertie?”
A hand went up.
“I have,” said Know-All Nick. “He was at the monkey cage.”
Miss Boot frowned. “Why didn’t you say so? What’s he doing there?”
“He’s stuck,” said Nick.
“STUCK? What do you mean
stuck
?”
“In the railings – he’s got his head stuck,” said Nick, sounding pleased.
Miss Boot closed her eyes. It was going to be one of those days.
Back at the monkey enclosure a small crowd had gathered. People wanted to see the boy with his head stuck. The monkey on Bertie’s head had finished the roll and was now searching for fleas in Bertie’s hair. Everyone was staring. Bertie wanted to die. One or two people were taking his picture while they waited for a zookeeper to arrive.
“BERTIE!” thundered a voice. “What
are you doing?”
Bertie groaned. Miss Boot – that was all he needed.
“I’m stuck!” he wailed.
“Don’t be stupid. If you got your head in there then you can get it out!”
“I can’t,” moaned Bertie. “I’ve tried!”
“Well, try harder,” snapped Miss Boot. “Nicholas, come and help me.”
Miss Boot seized hold of Bertie’s left leg while Nick grabbed the right. They pulled as if he was a Christmas cracker.
“OWWWW! THAT HURTS!” yelled Bertie.
They let go. It was no use.
“Shall I call the fire brigade?” offered Nick.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Miss Boot.
Just then a zookeeper pushed through the crowd.
“What’s the trouble?” he asked.
“It’s his head,” explained Miss Boot. “Goodness knows how he did it – with Bertie nothing surprises me.”
The zookeeper crouched down beside Bertie. “Okay chief, are you all right?” he smiled.
All right?
thought Bertie. Did he look all right?
“Get me out,” he croaked.
“Don’t panic, we will,” said the zookeeper.
The crowd watched him take out his keys and open the cage door. The monkey on Bertie’s head whooped and jumped off to join his friends.
“Hmm, this is going to be tricky,” said the zookeeper. “I might need my hacksaw.”
“
Hacksaw
?” Bertie gulped. “What for?”
The zookeeper laughed. “Well, if all else fails, we can chop off your head.”
“WHAT?” Bertie jerked his head back. To his surprise he suddenly found himself on the ground.
“YOU DID IT!” shouted Darren. “YOU’RE OUT!”
A cheer went up from the crowd. Bertie blinked. He didn’t know how he’d done it but he was finally free.
The zookeeper helped him to his feet. “I was joking about chopping off your head by the way,” he said with a wink.
The class all crowded round Bertie, talking at once. This had definitely been the highlight of the day so far. Eugene and Darren gave Bertie high fives. Only Miss Boot didn’t look thrilled.
“This is what comes of wandering off,” she scolded. “From now on you will stay where I can see you – and DO NOT touch anything.” She checked her watch. “I think it’s time we stopped for lunch.”
They found some picnic tables near the elephant house. Bertie took out his lunch box. All he had left was an apple, crisps and one measly cheese roll.
Know-All Nick sat down next to him. “Is that all you’ve got?” he sneered.
“I’ve
got crisps, sandwiches AND jam doughnuts.”
“Lucky you,” said Bertie.
One of the elephants lumbered out of its house to take a look at them. It gave Bertie an idea. Maybe he could still get even with clever-clogs Nick.
“Hey, Nickerless, why don’t I take your picture?” he said.
Know-All Nick looked surprised. But he could never resist the chance to have his picture taken. He stood up, posing as
if he was about to eat his doughnut.
“Too close,” said Bertie. “Go back a bit.”
“Like this?” asked Nick.
“No, back a bit more.”
“Here?”
“Just a bit further!”
Nick stepped back until he found himself against a wall.
“Perfect,” said Bertie. “Now hold the doughnut up. Higher!”
Nick did as he was told… Suddenly a hairy trunk shot over the wall and grabbed the doughnut.
“MISS!” wailed Nick. “THE ELEPHANT’S GOT MY DOUGHNUT!”
Miss Boot looked over. “Nicholas!” she yelled. “How many times? DO
NOT
FEED THE ANIMALS!”
Bertie grinned as he snapped a picture. Maybe in future this would teach Nick a lesson – nobody made a monkey out of him!