Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 1-2 | Page 458

New Journeys to the West
Singapore International School (Hong Kong), Liu, Michele - 11
“I
t’s your turn to feed him, Izzie!”
I blinked in bewilderment and confusion when Brad tossed me the keys, before realizing that it
was a Sunday. Oh. My turn to feed Sammy.
Sammy was a strange little creature with a strong build and beady little eyes. There was something about
him that made me wary and try to avoid him as much as I possibly could. Every day, he would perch on his
favorite branch, long limbs dangling, and those eyes would stare at me like CCTV cameras.
I sighed and climbed into the enclosure. Our family worked at a zoo, and since it was the summer holidays,
I had offered to help out. Sammy was there as usual, observing me intently. He didn’t clamor around
excitedly like the other monkeys when I threw him his feed. No, he just sat there indifferently, looking at
me.
“Okay, Sammy, time to go,” I threw him the last of the banana slices and then began to exit cautiously. I
didn’t bother to look behind.
“I thought it was orange slices today,” called a voice after me. What? I whirled around in utter confusion.
Sammy was there, curiously gawking at me. I blinked rapidly. No one else was around. Surely…
“You-you can talk!” I whispered. “You can speak English!”
“And fifty other languages,” Sammy’s lips definitely moved, jammed with a mouthful of mushy banana. This
was so bizarre I burst out laughing. I honestly thought it was a dream. But I wasn’t so surprised. I mean, we
humans could have descended from apes for all I know.
“Look, kid, you’ve got to help me,” Sammy said, in his gruff voice. “I’m not an ordinary monkey.
Definitely not some silly creature lumbered in this old zoo.”
“I can see that,” I mumbled. “I am definitely dreaming!” I slammed my forehead onto the walls, but I didn’t
wake up or anything like that. Now I was definitely pushed to the point of freaking out.
“Have you heard of the tale ‘Journey to the West’, little kid? Well, believe it or not, I am the Monkey King
in the story.”
We had studied Chinese literature at school before, so I slowly nodded. I’d decided it was better not to react
in crazy situations like these.
“Seriously though. That story. It’s real. I can’t believe it. All these years, I’ve lived hundreds and hundreds of
lives, each one as a new me, disguised as a different species and given a new name. I was a circus monkey in
Britain once, and I appeared multiple times on television in Japan. Did I mention I was once a model living
in Paris?”
I spluttered. “Modelling? A monkey? You have got to be kidding me!”
“Listen. I don’t like living all these new lives. I liked it when it was me and my crew, Xuanzang, a Buddhist
monk, Zhubajie, a talking pig, and Sha Wujing, an old frair. I liked it when we traveled all over the place. I
liked it when I still had my staff and could defend my master against evil monsters. I liked it when I was still
recognized as a fearless warrior and a powerful immortal.” He sighed, as if he wished he was stuck in the
past. “But the future had to come, of course. Our group disbanded shortly after our master passed. One day
I went out hunting for more food, and goodness knows, I was caught by hunters who sold me to a circus
trainer soon afterwards. Now I’m stuck, as every time of monkey you can imagine. Not me. Not myself. I
am the Monkey King!” He puffed up his chest, swelling with pride. Then he turned to me.