The Singing Ape

by Justin D'Ath

  Kristin undid her seatbelt. ‘Go in and order something. I’ll sort it out when I pay my battery credits.’

  Colt’s stomach rumbled as he walked inside.

  ‘Sorry mate, the kitchen’s closed for the night,’ the owner said when Colt asked for a soyburger. ‘There’s just what’s left in that warmer.’

  It contained three or four vegetable pies, half a dozen pasties and a whole shelf of soy-sausage rolls. They all looked like they’d been in there too long.

  ‘How much are the pies?’

  The proprietor peered in. ‘They’re a bit overdone, I’m afraid. Normally we chuck everything out at this time of night. You can have anything in there for fifty cents.’

  ‘How much for the lot?’ asked Colt.

  His mother came in with her credit card just as he was loading everything into a bulging carrier bag.

  ‘You’re not serious!’ she said.

  Colt grabbed about a dozen sachets of tomato sauce from a bowl on the counter and dropped them in, too. ‘I’ve got a whole week of eating to catch up on.’

  It was all gone in ten minutes.

  ‘Where do you put it all?’ his mother asked as they drove home through the moth-filled darkness.

  Colt flexed his bulging muscles. She wouldn’t believe him if he told her.

  ‘Do you mind if I have a little sleep, Mum?’

  ‘Of course not.’ Kristin reached across and touched his arm, as if to reassure herself that he was real. ‘Darling, it’s just so good that you’re okay.’

  It felt good to be okay. Having a broken back sucked. Colt’s head rocked forward and he shut his eyes. He was still tired, but thanks to the food it was the kind of tired that he could wake up from.

  When he fell asleep, Colt dreamed he was far out at sea in a little boat. He was surrounded by fog. Rolling across the water came the eerie sound of a siren.

  Kristin let him sleep in that morning. They must have got home pretty late – Colt had been too tired to notice the time. There was a note on the table.

  Good morning, Sleepyhead.

  Have breakfast then come and find me – I’m shoeing the horses. Or go to school if you want, but I’m sure Captain N. and your little girlfriend won’t mind if you wait till tomorrow. Welcome home! Mum xxx

  Girlfriend? Colt rolled his eyes. What a doofus!

  He dressed and had several bowls of cereal. He had to use orange juice in the last ones because the milk had run out. There was a bunch of bananas in the fruit bowl and he got stuck into them, too. But he slipped one into his pocket for Caruso.

  It was hard to find him. The circus had moved towns since the helicopter accident and The Menagerie was at the wrong end of Circus City, so Colt arrived at Lucy’s enclosure first. She rumbled deeply in pleasure when she recognised him and came hurrying over to the fence.

  ‘I missed you, too,’ Colt said, laughing as the elephant poked her trunk through the bars and ran it all over him like a giant vacuum cleaner.

  He had forgotten about the banana. Lucy found it straightaway. Her trunk was her nose, after all, and any nose that big had to be pretty good at sniffing out food.

  It isn’t for you, Colt almost said, but how could he? Lucy was so pleased to see him. And, after all, she was his favourite animal in the world. Literally.

  So he had no treat for Caruso when finally he located the large primates’ trailer. Mrs Wells was there, pushing bits of carrot and chopped-up fruit through the mesh for the baboons.

  ‘Good heavens!’ she gasped. ‘I thought you were in hospital.’

  ‘I got out last night.’

  ‘But . . . wasn’t it a spinal injury?’

  ‘It was all a mistake,’ Colt mumbled. He hated lying. ‘Are all the large primates in quarantine?’

  There were orange padlocks on every cage door.

  Mrs Wells rolled her eyes. ‘That DoRFE woman is playing hardball this time. She reckons that if Caruso’s infected, he could have infected the others, too.’

  ‘But aren’t their RatVax shots up to date?’ Colt asked.

  ‘They are,’ she said. ‘And their blood tests will show it. But in the meantime, having them all locked up like this makes life difficult for everyone.’

  Colt could see how awkward it was pushing food through the wire mesh. He asked Mrs Wells if she needed help, and she pointed at one of the buckets of chopped fruit in a wheelbarrow behind him.

  ‘Feed Caruso, if you like.’

  Caruso looked terrible. He was very thin. There were patches of bare skin where clumps of fur had fallen out. His eyes seemed sad. But he came over to the wire when Colt called and slowly ate everything that was pushed through the little square holes in the mesh.

  ‘I’m sorry, mate,’ Colt said softly, hoping Mrs Wells wouldn’t hear him talking to an animal. ‘I shouldn’t have let you out.’

  Caruso stopped his chewing. He took a moment to swallow what was in his mouth, then shuffled along to the cage door and poked one of the two new hose-clamps Mr Busby had put there to stop him escaping again.

  ‘Out,’ he whispered, looking Colt in the eye.

  Colt stared at him for a moment, his heart beating very fast. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I didn’t say anything,’ said Mrs Wells, walking behind him with an empty bucket.

  Colt turned around. ‘Did you hear Caruso make a noise, Mrs Wells?’

  ‘Yes, I heard him.’

  ‘What did it sound like to you?’

  ‘He grunted,’ she said.

  Colt slipped through the rails into the horses’ pen. There were five of them altogether. Two were really mountain ponies, but everyone called them horses. Kristin was crazy about all five of them. She used to do show jumping back in the Animal Days.

  ‘I’m worried about Caruso,’ Colt said.

  Kristin nodded. She was doing something to one of the horses’ huge feet. ‘Could you hold her still, please?’

  Colt put an arm around the animal’s neck and talked softly into her velvety brown ear while his mother worked. A couple of months ago he was nervous around horses, but now he was used to them. He waited while Kristin banged in a horseshoe nail.

  ‘When do you think the lab tests will come back, Mum?’ he asked.

  ‘It took three days last time,’ she said.

  Tomorrow was day three. Colt patted the big, warm horse. ‘Do you think Caruso will be okay?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Kristin said. She reached into the nail tin on the ground beside her. ‘I hope so.’

  ‘He really hates being locked up.’

  ‘Don’t even think about letting him out again,’ his mother warned as she drove in the final nail. Bang, bang! ‘He could have died.’

  Colt didn’t say anything. He was thinking about the lab tests. He watched his mother finish with the horse’s hoof. She straightened up and stretched her stiff back.

  ‘You can let her go now, darling.’

  He released the newly shod horse and gave it a pat. The other four stood calmly on the other side of their temporary enclosure, waiting their turn. They seemed quite happy with circus life. Unlike Caruso.

  ‘Would I be allowed to teach him tricks?’ Colt asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Kristin.

  ‘If Caruso could go in the circus – like the horses and Lucy and the bears – he might not get so bored.’

  ‘What sort of tricks?’

  ‘Well, not tricks, exactly,’ Colt said. He knew Captain Noah’s thoughts about performing animals. ‘I thought I could make him sing.’

  ‘He only sings when he wants to,’ said Kristin.

  Colt nodded. ‘But I think I could teach him.’

  His mother stood still for a few moments, looking him in the eye. Suddenly she swooped forward and wrapped her arms around him. She smelled like horses.

  ‘It’s so lovely to have you back!’ she said.

  Colt realised she didn’t want him to get his hopes up about Caruso. It was like when he asked about
his father and she just shook her head and changed the subject.

  She wasn’t expecting good news when the lab tests came back tomorrow.

  Captain Noah had his back turned, but all his pupils saw their absent classmate appear in the doorway. Their mouths dropped open. Birdy was the first to recover. She shot out of her desk and raced to the door.

  ‘Ms Flynn!’ growled Captain Noah. ‘Just where do you think you’re –?’

  Then he saw who it was, and his mouth dropped open, too.

  ‘Sorry I’m late, Captain Noah,’ said Colt, trying to free himself from Birdy’s arms. ‘I was a bit tired this morning and Mum didn’t wake me.’

  Sangita and Saffron came over and hugged him, too. So did the little boy from the front row, whose name, Colt had learned, was Hamish.

  It was embarrassing.

  ‘All right, enough of that,’ Captain Noah said sternly. ‘Everyone back to your desks, please. Yes, that means you too, Master Lawless. You can explain your miraculous recovery later on.’

  Colt had a desk of his own now, but it was covered with pieces of folded cardboard.

  ‘Apologies for the state of your desk, Master Lawless,’ said their teacher. ‘We weren’t expecting you back today. In fact, we were about to make Get Well cards for you – a waste of cardboard, it would appear. Kindly stack them all together and place them on the table next to Webber.’

  When that was done, Colt finally sat down. Everyone was looking at him curiously. His face felt hot.

  ‘Eyes front!’ said Captain Noah. He pointed at the virtual whiteboard, where a single word shimmered in the air.

  Siren.

  ‘For the benefit of the latecomer, would somebody like to explain what this means?’

  Colt put up his hand. ‘They don’t need to explain. A siren is a thing on a police car or a fire engine that makes a loud wailing noise so people get out of the way.’

  ‘That is one kind of siren,’ Captain Noah agreed. ‘But this morning we have been studying the Odyssey, by Homer. Who would like to tell Master Lawless about the sirens in Homer’s story? Go ahead, Miss Wells.’

  ‘They were these kind of half-lady half-bird creatures that made ships sink,’ Saffron said.

  ‘Very good,’ said Captain Noah. ‘And would anyone like to explain how the sirens sank ships?’

  Birdy answered this time. ‘They sang to call sailors,’ she said. ‘And their voices were so lovely that the sailors couldn’t resist and crashed their ships into the rocks.’

  The mobile classroom fell silent. Everyone was staring at Colt. His mouth had dropped open.

  ‘Master Lawless?’ said Captain Noah. ‘Do you have something to say?’

  Colt shook his head. His eyes seemed unfocused. ‘No. It’s . . . uh . . . nothing, Captain Noah.’

  But it wasn’t nothing.

  ‘Can that old phone of yours take holovids?’ Colt asked.

  ‘No, just stills. And they’re not even 3D,’ Birdy said. ‘Is there something wrong with your wrist-phone?’

  ‘It doesn’t do sound,’ said Colt.

  ‘Dad’s camera does,’ said Birdy.

  ‘Will he let you borrow it?’

  ‘Sure.’

  School had finished two hours ago. Colt had spent most of that time on Skynet looking up stuff about sirens. Now he and Birdy stood outside Caruso’s cage.

  ‘Meet me here at six tomorrow morning,’ he said. ‘Bring your dad’s camera.’

  Colt sneaked out of the caravan without waking his mother. The sun wasn’t up yet, but it was just light enough to see. There was nobody else about. He looked at his wrist-phone. It was 5.35 a.m. on the day Officer Katt and the rat cops were due to come for Caruso.

  They were going to be disappointed.

  Colt carried a small backpack. He’d filled it last night. There were bananas and some dried apricots for Caruso. And there were about twenty Power Bars for himself, in case things went wrong and he had to use Plan B.

  There was also a small screwdriver.

  By the time Birdy arrived, they were ready. Colt had been giving Caruso lessons in how to use a screwdriver. At first, the gibbon kept turning it the wrong way – tightening the screws instead of loosening them – but after half an hour of patient demonstration and encouragement, he seemed to have got the hang of it. He was a pretty smart animal.

  ‘Did you bring it?’ Colt asked.

  Birdy showed him the camera. ‘What’s the plan?’

  Colt held up the screwdriver. ‘I want you to make a holovid of Caruso using this to get out of his cage.’

  ‘But he isn’t allowed out!’ said Birdy.

  They both looked at the big orange padlock.

  ‘If he stays in there,’ Colt said softly, ‘Officer Katt is going to come and take him away.’

  ‘His blood tests might be okay,’ whispered Birdy.

  ‘What if they’re not?’ he asked.

  They both knew the answer: Caruso would die.

  But Birdy still looked worried. ‘It’s against the law,’ she hissed. ‘You heard what Officer Katt said. If we bust Caruso out of quarantine, she might close the circus.’

  ‘She can’t close the circus if we haven’t committed a crime.’

  ‘But we are going to commit a crime!’

  ‘No, we’re not.’ Colt grinned. ‘Caruso is.’

  That was Plan A. They would use their holovid as evidence that Caruso had escaped on his own.

  Colt slipped the screwdriver through the mesh into the would-be-criminal’s hand, then stepped back.

  ‘Start filming, Birdy. But make sure I’m not in it.’

  ‘Uh-oh!’ she said.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  Birdy lowered the camera. She looked like she was about to cry. ‘I think the battery’s dead. I’m really sorry! I should have checked.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Colt said. He slipped off his wrist-phone. ‘Here, use this.’

  ‘But it doesn’t do sound.’

  ‘We don’t really need sound,’ Colt decided. He caught Caruso’s eye and pointed at the hose-clamps keeping the door hinges in place.

  ‘Out!’ he commanded.

  Caruso hadn’t forgotten his lessons. In less than two minutes, he had unscrewed both hose-clamps and let them fall to the ground. Dropping the screwdriver, he lifted the cage door off its hinges and gave it a push. The door swung open backwards, hanging crookedly from the orange padlock, and Caruso was free.

  Colt tapped Birdy on the shoulder, making a cutting motion across his throat to stop her filming. Then he walked over to the trailer.

  ‘Come on, buddy,’ he said to Caruso. ‘Let’s go find my mum.’

  The gibbon jumped into his arms.

  ‘Home,’ Caruso whispered into Colt’s ear – or did Colt just imagine it?

  He certainly didn’t imagine what he heard next . . .

  ‘WHAT IN BLAZES DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?’ yelled an angry voice behind him.

  Birdy gasped and spun around. But Colt’s reaction was different. He swung Caruso onto his hip like a mother with her toddler, slid a Power Bar from the outer pocket of his backpack, ripped the wrapper open with his teeth, and took a bite.

  Only then did he turn around.

  ‘We’re saving Caruso,’ he said calmly to the red-faced circus foreman.

  Mr Busby had to shade his eyes against the glare of the rising sun. ‘PUT HIM BACK IN HIS CAGE RIGHT –’

  ‘Keep your voice down,’ Colt told him.

  He didn’t speak loudly, but something in his tone made the foreman obey. Perhaps he was remembering that night two months ago when Colt had picked him up and spun him around like a rag doll.

  Colt took another mouthful of Power Bar. Food was the fuel his body needed when he went into superhero mode. It was like charging a car battery. And if he ate enough before he did something mega-strong, there was less chance he would pass out when his body returned to normal.

  ‘We need your help, Mr Busby.’


  ‘You’ve got to be kidding!’ said the foreman. ‘You’ve broken quarantine! The rat cops will come down on you like a ton of bricks!’

  Colt stuffed the empty wrapper into his pocket. His skin was tingling and his muscles bulged. He had to be careful not to squeeze Caruso too tightly.

  ‘They’ll kill Caruso if we put him back,’ he said softly.

  ‘Please help us, Mr Busby!’ said Birdy.

  The foreman shook his head. ‘Do what you like,’ he muttered. ‘Just don’t involve me.’

  He turned and began walking away.

  Colt went after him. ‘Do you want Caruso to die?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Mr Busby said without slowing down. Colt noticed a chimpanzee among the gallery of extinct animals tattooed on his arms, hands and neck.

  ‘He’s the only gibbon left, Mr Busby. You can help save him.’

  ‘I’m having nothing to do with it.’

  Birdy grabbed Colt’s elbow. ‘Just let him go.’

  But Colt kept following Mr Busby. His brain seemed to have gained power along with his body. Now he saw how the foreman could fit into the next part of his plan a lot better than his mother would. Mr Busby had been Captain Noah’s right-hand man forever. He had worked at the island zoo.

  He might even know someone with a boat!

  ‘Mr Busby, just listen to –’

  Mr Busby suddenly stopped. Colt nearly ran into his broad back. Birdy, who had a clear view ahead, let out a little gasp.

  A hundred metres away, three people had come walking around the side of the Big Top. All three wore the unmistakable orange uniforms of rat cops.

  The one in the lead was Officer Katt.

  Mr Busby spoke without looking around. ‘Stay behind me, kid. I’m going to move to the right. See that gap between the trailers?’

  ‘Yes,’ Colt said nervously.

  ‘That’s where we’re going.’

  ‘What about me?’ whispered Birdy.

  ‘Follow us,’ Mr Busby instructed. ‘Try to act like we haven’t noticed them.’

  They shuffled awkwardly towards the gap. It was only five or six paces but it looked much further. Colt stayed behind Mr Busby where the rat cops couldn’t see him and Caruso. Three steps, four steps, five steps. It seemed to take ages. At last they reached the gap. Colt went in first, followed by Mr Busby, then Birdy.