The sky turned dark with an eerie stillness, the kind that warns of an approaching storm. Deep in the rural countryside, nestled between banana trees and tall grasses, a small bamboo hut stood alone. Inside, CUTIS, a gentle-hearted farmer known for his deep bond with animals, had just finished feeding his animals when he sensed something was off. The birds were no longer chirping. The wind had stopped. Everything had gone quiet.
Not far from the hut, a tiny baby monkey named Lulu was playing near the pond, tossing pebbles and giggling in her monkey way. She had been raised by CUTIS ever since her mother had disappeared months ago. From bottle-feeding her as an infant to teaching her how to climb trees, CUTIS had taken on the role of a father. The two shared an unbreakable bond — filled with laughter, warmth, and daily adventures.
Suddenly, a loud rumble shook the air. The storm had arrived.
Dark clouds rolled in faster than anyone expected. The wind picked up with a roar, bending trees and tossing leaves into the air. Lightning cracked across the sky, followed by the terrifying boom of thunder that sent birds scattering in panic. A downpour began — heavy, wild, and unforgiving.
CUTIS dropped everything and rushed outside, shouting, “Lulu! Lulu, where are you?”
Lulu, terrified by the sudden change, had hidden under a bush near the pond, her tiny body shaking with fear. The wind whipped around her, and she let out a soft cry. She didn’t know what to do — she was too afraid to move.
CUTIS’s heart pounded as he searched the area. The rain was pouring down so hard it blurred his vision, but his instincts kicked in. He knew Lulu would be near water — she loved that spot. Sprinting across the muddy field, his boots slipping in the thick, wet soil, he finally spotted a tiny shadow curled up under the bush.
“Lulu!” he cried, falling to his knees beside her.
The baby monkey squeaked, and with teary eyes, she jumped into his arms. CUTIS wrapped her tightly in his shirt, shielding her from the cold rain. The wind howled like a wild beast around them, and CUTIS knew they had to get back to the hut — fast.
But the storm was relentless. The path back was blocked by a fallen tree, and the water from the pond was overflowing, creating small floods along the route. CUTIS glanced around for a safer way, but everywhere looked dangerous.
“We have to run,” he whispered, tightening his grip on Lulu.
With determination in his eyes and the baby monkey clinging to his chest, CUTIS began running. The mud sucked at his boots, the rain blinded him, but he kept going. Each step was a struggle, but CUTIS refused to give up. Lulu, though frightened, trusted him completely. She kept her face buried in his chest, believing he would get them to safety.
Branches broke off from trees and flew past them. The wind screamed louder than ever. A bolt of lightning struck a tree just a few feet away, making CUTIS stumble and fall to his knees. But even then, he held Lulu tightly, making sure she was protected.
“Just a bit further,” he whispered to himself. “We can do this.”
As they reached a small hill near the hut, the rain turned into a curtain of water. CUTIS’s clothes were soaked, his body cold and trembling, but he climbed steadily, keeping Lulu close. Just when they were about to reach the back door, a loud crash made them freeze.
The side of the hut had collapsed under the pressure of the wind.
CUTIS stared in shock. The place they had called home was now partially destroyed. But there was no time to waste. He ran to the remaining part of the structure — a corner of the kitchen still standing — and gently placed Lulu inside a wooden crate lined with straw. She looked up at him, eyes wide and confused.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here,” CUTIS said softly.
He scrambled to find anything he could use to cover the open wall — a tarp, bamboo panels, anything. Every second felt like a battle against nature. Despite the freezing wind and sharp rain, CUTIS worked quickly, creating a makeshift shelter around the crate. Lulu huddled inside, trembling but no longer crying.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the storm began to ease. The thunder grew distant, and the rain softened into a gentle drizzle. CUTIS collapsed beside Lulu, exhausted. His body ached, and his fingers were numb, but he smiled as he saw Lulu’s tiny hand reach out to touch his cheek.
They had made it.
Later that evening, as the villagers came to check on one another after the storm, they found CUTIS’s hut partially damaged but still standing. And there, inside the sheltered kitchen corner, was the brave farmer and the baby monkey — safe, though cold and tired.
Word spread quickly about how CUTIS had run through the storm with the baby monkey in his arms, refusing to leave her behind. Children called him a hero. Adults admired his courage. But CUTIS didn’t care about praise. He only cared that Lulu was okay.
In the days that followed, the village came together to help rebuild the hut. They brought tools, bamboo, and food. CUTIS, though proud and independent, accepted their help with gratitude. He knew that Lulu had not only become his family but had brought him closer to the community too.
The baby monkey, once frightened and shy, began to blossom again. She played with the neighbor’s children, swung from the rafters of the newly built home, and slept curled up beside CUTIS every night.
The bond between them, forged in love and strengthened in a storm, became the talk of the village. Whenever clouds gathered in the sky again, CUTIS would gently scoop Lulu into his arms and say with a smile, “Don’t worry, little one. No storm will ever take you from me.”
And with that, the baby monkey would rest peacefully, knowing that even in the fiercest winds, she would always have someone to run to.
The End
