“How do we keep getting into these situations?” Magellan asked, leaning back against the stone wall.
“Eleven years of friendship and I still don’t know,” Monk replied as he paced by the wall. He ran his hands over the rocks. They were damp. Reaching the door, Monk examined it. The wood was thick, and it was bolted from the outside.
Monk rummaged through the tree house. He shoved the boxes this way and that. He scrambled up onto the rafters and looked in every crevice. Could Magellan have taken it? Monk did not want to believe it, but he had only known Magellan for a month, and twelve-year-olds can be tempted. Monk crouched on the rafter trying to figure out if this was a possibility and where it had gone.
Magellan swung over the railing and entered the tree house. Monk dropped onto him, and they both crashed onto the floor.
“Hey!” Magellan yelled, trying to wrench free. He managed to roll over and send Monk off him. Monk grabbed him and rolled back on top. Magellan wiggled free, but Monk got hold of his arm and kept him from going far. Magellan managed to roll onto of Monk. But Monk wrapped his legs around Magellan and flipped him off. Back and forth they went until Monk managed to pin Magellan down.
“What’s the plan,” Magellan yelled back to Monk. Even though he shouted at the top of his lungs, the wind swept the words away so that Monk could barely hear him.
“Plan,” Monk shouted back, “My plan was to follow your plan.”
Monk was disgusted. They had been at this small beachside resort for three days and there was nothing to do. He had already conquered the climbing wall, that was a joke (at least for a monkey). He’d played all the games, explored every square inch of the swimming pool, and knew every grain of sand on the beach. He’d named two hundred of them before running out of names and then counted 16,578 more before lunch time. He wondered why his parents felt this would be a great place to visit. Any teenager could have told you it stunk. Now, he was sitting on a cliff overlooking the ocean, trying to figure out what to do.
The sound of a slight rustle, caught Monk’s attention. He perked up. Something or someone was sneaking through the bushes toward him. Monk glanced over his shoulder. Nothing was visible. He waited, every muscle ready to spring. The slightest sound came from the grass behind him. A second later, a lion sprung up and gave a mighty roar.
“What are you doing,” Magellan asked suddenly. The feet of his chair hit the ground with a thud as he looked across at Monk. “You’ve been silent for a good thirty minutes and have not eaten one banana chip.”
Monk sat at the desk across from him. Papers and maps were spread across it. “I was thinking,” he answered.