Monkey June Stories

Story Eight - Part One

I know you’ve heard at least one story about the girl known as Monkey June, so I won’t waste time describing her here. If you’re not familiar with her at all, I have to wonder why you are reading this story instead of starting at the beginning. Were you just confused about where to start? Are you the kind of person who buys a book and starts reading at Chapter Eight? This story isn’t about you, though, so I’m going to get back to my story about Monkey June now…

She was a girl who really loved monkeys—which was good, because monkeys seemed to find their way into her life no matter where she was and no matter what she was doing. Can you imagine what her life would be like if she was obsessed with zebras or elephants or unicorns, and all kinds of monkey-related things kept happening to her?

Oh! I should pause here for a moment to say that this is another story from when June was younger, before she had ‘Monkey’ added to her name—so you’ll be hearing a lot of ‘June did this’ and ‘June said that’, and you’ll hardly hear the name ‘Monkey June’ at all.

June was a very clever three-year-old girl. She lived in a normal house in a normal town with a normal mother and a normal father.

About a year before this story—the summer before this story, to be exact—she had visited a tropical island with her parents. She had been two-years-old then—it was a few months before her third birthday. She had met a ‘dangerous’ monkey named Mango Monkey, and she had—well, she had been on various adventures that you can read about in Story Six. (It’s a two-parter. I highly recommend it.)

That was a year ago, though. Now June was three. It was the summer before she turned four. You may remember that June’s parents had promised to take her back to that island every year for their family’s summer vacation. Little June reminded them of this promise constantly because she couldn’t wait to go back to the island, find her friend Mango Monkey, and see how he was doing.

The last time June and her parents had been to the island, they had arranged a feast of mangoes on a beach there. (If that sounds strange to you then you haven’t heard or read Story Six. If you still haven’t checked it out, that’s on you. I recommended it two paragraphs ago.)

I won’t tell you the real name of the island they visited, because I don’t want you going there and trying to find Mango Monkey, or buried treasure, or dangerous secrets, or anything like that. I will say that little June and her parents usually referred to the place as ‘Mango Beach Island’, for obvious reasons.

June’s parents spent the first part of their summer planning their trip to Mango Beach with little June, and as the trip got closer and closer, June was hardly able to talk about anything else.

“Do you think Mango Monkey is still there?” she asked her father one night at dinner.

“I’m sure he is,” her dad said. “Where else would he be?”

“Right,” June agreed. “He’d never leave Mango Beach! You think he remembers me?”

“I’m sure he does, dear,” June’s mother said. “The two of you were best friends by the time we left there last summer. He saved your life. He’s not going to forget you.”

The day finally arrived. A very excited June made sure she had her favorite stuffed monkey named Monkey with her (her parents had taken care of the rest of her packing), and they went to the airport, got on a plane, and flew to the island.

As they checked in at the hotel, June recognized a familiar face in the hotel lobby.

“Mr. James!” she shouted as she ran over to say hello. James was their friend who worked at the hotel and knew everything about all the local monkeys.

“June!” he said, scooping her up into his arms before she could run into his knees and knock him down. “Welcome back! How you’ve grown!”

“I’m almost four,” she said proudly.

“That’s wonderful,” James said. “And I see you still have Monkey.”

“Always do. Had him since I was born.”

“I didn’t know that,” James said.

“Mango Monkey likes him, too,” June said.

At the mention of Mango Monkey, James got a troubled look on his face. He put June down on the floor and sat on one of the hotel lobby chairs.

“What’s the matter?” June asked. “Are you sad? Is Mango Monkey still here? Is he okay?”

“I don’t like talking about that monkey,” James said. “And neither should you. He’s dangerous.”

“He saved me!” June said. “He’s my friend!”

“I wish you wouldn’t say that,” James said. “He is dangerous. Don’t forget: he is the one who led you into that forest in the first place. He put you in danger. You must stay away from—”

“James!” June’s father said as he and June’s mother joined them. “How are you?”

“Fine, sir! Very glad you and your wonderful family are back to see us again!”

“We’re glad to be here,” June’s mother said. “We’re all checked in, June. Let’s head to our room and get settled in.”

“Bye, Mr. James!” June said.

“Bye, bye,” James said. “You remember what I said, now.”

Over the next few days, June and her parents didn’t see James much. They weren’t sure exactly what he did at the hotel, but whatever it was it must have kept him very busy.

June wanted to visit Mango Beach right away, of course. She even brought a few mangoes—not a whole feast, but as many as a small girl could carry—hoping that a certain friend of hers would smell them and come see who had brought mangoes to the beach.

Much to June’s disappointment, Mango Monkey did not appear that first day. He didn’t appear the next day, either. He didn’t appear the third day, either.

“Where is he?” she asked her parents.

“There’s no way to know, June,” her father said. “He’s a monkey. He’s probably exploring some other part of the island. He had no way of knowing when we were coming back.”

“But I miss him,” June said. Her eyes started to get teary and her chin started to get wiggly.

“I suggest we just enjoy our time here and if we end up seeing him, that will be wonderful. But if he’s off doing…monkey things and doesn’t come and see us…well…that’s just how it might be.”

“Mango monkey,” June said sadly as she went to walk by the water for a while by herself. Her father started to follow her.

“Let her be, dear,” June’s mother told him. “She needs some time alone, I think."

June walked along the water’s edge, kicking up clumps of wet sand. She looked angry, but she was really more disappointed—and worried that maybe their entire trip would go by without a chance for her to see Mango Monkey.

She didn’t pay much attention to where she was walking—or how far she had gone. Soon she was farther away from her parents than she was normally allowed to be. Looking back, she could barely see them from where she was. She turned and started walking back.

After about three steps, though, June stopped with a ‘YIPE!’

“Ouch!” she said after the yipe. “That hurt!” She looked at the wet clump of sand she had just stepped on. She must have kicked it up earlier. Stepping on a wet clump of sand usually crushed it into…well, wet sand. This clump did not crush; it hurt. There was something hard in it. Something solid, a little shiny, and…was that metal?

“That is very strange,” June said. She picked up the heavy clump of sand and dipped it in ocean water to rinse it off. Once the sand was gone, June couldn’t believe what she saw in her hand…

It was a monkey! A small, heavy monkey made of metal!

“I think it’s brass,” June’s father said as he looked over the strange little object.

“A brass monkey?” June’s mother asked. “Who would leave such a thing on the beach?”

“Maybe it came from the water!” June shouted. “Maybe it’s from Mango Monkey!”

“I don’t think so, sweetie,” June’s father said. “I think we should show this to an expert—someone who knows everything about this island.”

“Mr. James!” June said.

“Good idea!” June’s mother agreed.

“Where did you found this?” James asked, holding the strange brass monkey that June had found.

“Mango Beach,” June said.

“We don’t have a beach with that name on the island,” James said.

“June calls it that,” her father explained, “ever since last summer when we put a lot of mangoes on the beach, to try to catch—“

“Ah, yes,” said James, “I remember that place.” He turned to June. “I need you to show me exactly where you found this. It is very important.”

“Easy,” June said. 

“When would you like to go there?” June’s father asked James.

“Right now,” James said. “There is no time to waste.”

A short time later, June and her parents stood near the shore on what June called Mango Beach, not far from the crashing waves.

“Right there,” June said, pointing to the sand at their feet. June’s footprints had been washed away by the waves, but she was sure it was the place.

“Such a strange thing to find on a beach,” June’s mother said. “Do you know what it is, James? It looks really old.”

“Hundreds of years ago,” James said in a strange, faraway voice as he stared out over the ocean, “many ships would pass this island. Some stopped here to gather fresh water and supplies. The greatest of them were the mighty treasure ships of Spain—and the greatest of all the treasure ships of Spain was called ‘The Brass Monkey’.”

“Cool name!” June said.

“The Brass Monkey sailed only once,” James continued. “Some say she was built too big to sail safely. Some say she was a well-built ship, but that they filled her with too much treasure. When the Great Storm came, she disappeared with a full cargo.”

“Great Storm?” June asked.

“The worst storm the island ever saw,” James said. “It destroyed every building on the island—but in those days most of the buildings were huts made of logs. Still, the storm was legendary for the devastation it caused—and for the destruction of the greatest treasure ship that ever sailed.”

“Brass Monkey,” June said, her eyes wide and her voice serious.

“June found a brass monkey figure,” June’s father said, “but what does that have to do with the ship called The Brass Monkey?”

“People have searched for that ship for nearly three hundred years,” James said. “No one has ever found any sign of it—not a single piece of its unimaginable treasure—until today…”

“You mean…?” June’s mother said.

“Yes,” James said. “June’s brass monkey is from the Brass Monkey. It can only have come from there. That may mean that the sea is finally ready to give up its greatest treasure.”

To be continued in Monkey June and the Brass Monkey - Part Two