On a quiet morning deep in the countryside, the sun rose lazily over the green hills. Birds chirped. The leaves danced in the breeze. At the edge of the forest, Farmer Cutis was hard at work. His farm was peaceful, productive, and full of life. But this peaceful day was about to take a very unexpected turn.
Living with Cutis was a baby monkey named Miko. Cutis had rescued Miko from a nearby village after the little monkey had been found alone and starving. Over time, Cutis became more than just a caretaker—he became Miko’s family. The two had a unique bond, filled with laughter, play, and the occasional bit of trouble. But trouble had never been serious. Until today.
That morning, Cutis gave Miko a simple instruction.
“Miko,” he said, pointing to the barn, “I need to go into town. Watch over the animals and do not go near the fuel tank. Understand?”
Miko nodded eagerly, tail swishing back and forth. He loved feeling responsible. Cutis had always trusted him with small tasks, like carrying feed or shooing chickens away from the grain sacks. But this was the first time Cutis was leaving him alone for more than an hour.
Before leaving, Cutis knelt down and looked Miko in the eyes. “No mischief, okay? This is important.”
Miko gave a little salute. Cutis smiled and hopped on his motorbike, heading down the dusty road.
For the first ten minutes, everything went smoothly. Miko strolled around the barnyard, tossing corn kernels to the chickens and playing peek-a-boo with a calf. He felt proud of himself. “Look at me,” he thought. “I’m basically a farmer!”
But then… curiosity struck.
From the corner of his eye, Miko spotted a shiny metal cap peeking out behind a stack of wooden crates—the fuel tank. The one Cutis told him to avoid.
“Just a peek,” Miko thought.
He scampered over to the tank and climbed to the top. It was bigger up close than he had imagined. The shiny cap glimmered in the sun. Miko sniffed it, tapped it, then—unable to resist—twisted it open.
A strong smell hit his nose. “Whew! That stinks,” he muttered. But the smell wasn’t enough to scare him off. He peered inside. It looked like water—but darker, thicker. He found a nearby stick and dipped it in. Watching the fuel drip off the stick fascinated him.
Suddenly, a bee buzzed past his head, and Miko flinched. The stick slipped from his hand and dropped straight into the tank with a plunk. Frustrated, Miko tried reaching in to grab it. But he leaned too far—and SPLASH! He fell headfirst into the tank.
It was cold, dark, and slimy. Miko thrashed around, terrified. His squeals echoed across the farm. Luckily, the tank was only half full, and he managed to scramble out, soaked in fuel, coughing and shivering.
He looked a mess—fur slicked back, eyes wide with panic. Worst of all, some of the fuel had splashed near the chicken coop, dripping into the straw. Not thinking clearly, Miko grabbed a nearby cloth to clean himself. The cloth knocked over a nearby lantern that was left sitting on a crate.
In a flash—WHOOSH!—the fuel caught fire.
Miko screamed and ran in circles. The fire spread fast, licking the edges of the coop and catching on the dry straw. The chickens squawked and flapped in all directions. Smoke curled into the sky.
From down the road, Cutis saw the smoke and instantly felt his heart drop. He revved the motorbike and raced back.
By the time he arrived, chaos reigned. Miko stood frozen in the yard, dripping and terrified. The coop was partially burned, though some of the chickens had escaped. Cutis jumped off the bike, grabbed the hose, and doused the flames. It took fifteen minutes to control everything.
When it was over, silence fell.
Miko stood completely helpless in the middle of the smoky mess. His eyes filled with tears. His fur was dirty and smelled awful. The chickens huddled in corners, and the air was thick with soot.
Cutis turned to Miko, face red with anger.
“I told you not to go near the tank!” he yelled, voice cracking. “Do you know how dangerous this was? You could have been killed! You could’ve burned the whole farm down!”
Miko fell to his knees, trembling. He didn’t try to run. He didn’t try to explain. He just stared at the ground, ashamed.
Cutis paced for a moment, running a hand through his hair. Then, with a heavy sigh, he knelt beside Miko.
“You scared me,” he said, softer now. “I thought I could trust you.”
Miko sniffled and reached for Cutis’s hand.
“I’m mad because I care,” Cutis continued. “You made a serious mistake, Miko. But I’m glad you’re safe. Next time, you have to listen.”
Miko nodded slowly.
That night, after bathing Miko in warm water and applying ointment to a few scrapes, Cutis sat him down with a bowl of bananas. Miko didn’t eat at first. He just watched Cutis, guilt still heavy in his heart.
But Cutis eventually smiled.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “you’ll help me rebuild the coop.”
Miko blinked.
“You’re not giving me away?” he seemed to ask with his eyes.
Cutis chuckled. “You’re still family. But family means we learn from our mistakes. And you’ve got a lot of learning to do.”
The next morning, Miko was up early. He helped Cutis carry wood, hammer nails (with his tiny monkey strength), and comfort the still-scared chickens. Day by day, the coop was rebuilt—stronger and safer.
And Miko? He never went near that fuel tank again.
