Reginald, Prince of Baboons Read online

this moon but already I can make out mountains...” Suddenly from out of nowhere, a voice said, “they're not mountains, honey, they're pyramids!”

  Startled, Reginald dived down into the balloon basket and quickly put on his blacked-out-glasses and stuck his fingers into his ears. After a moment he removed his right finger, picked up his notebook and put it into his mouth to stop his teeth chattering before replacing his finger in his ear. Deep within his brain, he began chanting;

  Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil

  Hear no scary moon alien

  See no scary moon alien

  Speak to no scary moon alien.

  It wasn't that he didn't want to meet any moon aliens or moon people, just that he wanted to prepare himself first and not be given a fright by a voice coming out of nowhere. However, unknown to Reginald, mainly because he couldn't hear or see anything, a strange-looking hand had appeared on the edge of the basket. An instant later, another strange-looking hand appeared, followed by an odd-shaped head. The strange-looking hands and odd-shaped head were not human...

  Alien life, Reginald thought to himself. I can sense real alien life. Real, live, alien life. If I keep dead still...no, not dead still, bad word dead. If I stay very, very still it might go away.

  “Cooee, honey.” said the voice, “My name is Carmel-the-camel-and-I-am-an-innocent-man.” Carmel-the-camel laughed. “I tell you, honey-tree, I have had that song trapped inside my little, old brain since I first heard it in 1983...which makes me...” Carmel-the-camel paused then banged her hoof on the rim of the balloon basket. “You nearly had me there, honey-syrup, you nearly did! A lady never tells her age. Besides everyone knows camels can't count.” She playfully reached down and pushed Reginald, Prince of Baboons' shoulder.

  Meanwhile...on the rooftop of Reginald, Prince of Baboons' hilltop palace, Eva and Adele were relaxing in deckchairs while Carson the butler scanned the moon with a telescope. Stepping back for a moment he gave a little cough, “His Highness, Reginald, Prince of Baboons, does not appear to have alighted upon the lunar orb.” Eva and Adele looked at each other puzzled. “Oh,” said Adele, “You mean he hasn't landed on the moon yet.” She nudged Eva and repeated, “he hasn't landed on the moon...yet.” Eva looked at her watch. “It all depends on the solar currants.” Adele shook her head, “No, you mean solar currents.” Eva smiled, “of course, I do.” Then added, “Carson, are there any currant biscuits left?”

  Back in the balloon basket, Reginald had removed his fingers from his ears and taken off his glasses and was waving his notebook around. “What do you mean, this is not the moon? Can you prove it?”

  Carmel-the...“Stop!” Shouted Reginald, Prince of Baboons. “Stop! Why is it every time you speak, you begin with Carmel-the-camel?”

  Carmel-the-camel smiled, “that's my name honey-bush.”

  “No its not,” said Reginald getting quite frustrated. “Your name is not, Carmel hyphen the hyphen camel!

  “Yes it is,” said Carmel-the-camel.

  “Al right,” said Reginald, Prince of Baboons, “Carmel-the-camel is your name. But, you do not have to actually say, Carmel hyphen the hyphen camel.”

  “That's how its written, honey-bee.” Carmel-the-camel began to spell out her name, “C A R M E L h y p h e n...”

  Reginald held up his hand, “enough of the hyphen! Can we just call you Carmel?”

  Carmel-the-camel thought for a moment then asked, “how will that be written exactly?”

  Reginald sighed; “C-A-R-M-E-L.”

  “You put hyphens in! There are no hyphens in that part of my name. But I understand what you mean...Carmel it is. Do we get to kiss now?”

  “No we do not,” said Reginald, Prince of Baboons wishing he had kept his glasses on, fingers in his ears...

  For a while Carmel and Reginald were silent. Then Reginald gave a little cough and said, in as casual way as possible, “My apologies, I did not introduce myself, my name is Reginald, Prince of Baboons; what did you say this place is called?”

  Carmel smiled, “Oh Reginald, Prince of Baboons! You have released me from the endless torment of my hyphens.” However, sensing this was unlikely to develop into a romantic moment she added, “Egypt. We are in Egypt. Those are pyramids over there, not mountains.”

  Reginald looked at Carmel and asked if she was sure? She wasn't just pulling-his-leg-as-it-were? Carmel tutted then said, “see those three figures over there? The ones carrying the shovels and pickaxes?” Reginald nodded. “Watch this,” Carmel let out a loud whistle, attracting their attention. “That one's already been looted, honey-dipper,” she shouted across, “you're about three thousand years too late!” The three figures dropped their tools and ran off into the darkness. Carmel turned to Reginald, “Tomb robbers, well probably unemployed meerkats. Happens all the time...”

  Reginald sighed then scribbled in his notebook, another failed moon attempt!!! Closing the book he asked, “Is there a railway near by?”

  Carmel smiled, “Oh we've had a railway for many years, honey-book. Would you like me to take you there?” Reginald nodded and began to tidy up the boxes inside the balloon basket. “I must get back to my palace as soon as possible. I should be on the moon by now you know.”

  “I don't suppose,” said Carmel peering into the basket, “we could eat before we go? Only, I need to keep my blood sugar levels, erm...level. I can never remember if I'm hyper, hypo or just manic. Someone said camel milk is good for that sort of thing but...well, have you ever seen grown cows drinking their own milk? I rest my case.”

  Reginald looked up at Carmel in a confused way. “Do you mean eating?” He asked. “Regular meals, that sort of thing?” Carmel smiled and mouthed, “breakfast.”

  “Breakfast?” said Reginald, assuming perhaps that he could get something cooked on the train. In a flash, which it would have been had Carmel had a camera. Instead in an instant, which is another type of camera but one that is no longer made except in China where things are different... But whether in a flash or in an instant, Carmel was inside the balloon basket and tying a napkin around her neck; “Breakfast, I thought you'd never ask! I'm not fussy, I'll eat anything...everything! I even ate dinner at breakfast time once, I was so hungry”.

  Several hours later after Carmel had eaten almost everything in the breakfast, lunch, dinner, snack and emergency snack boxes and after a very long, hot walk in the desert, she flopped down in the sand a few feet from the railway track and waited for Reginald who was quite some distance behind and taking longer as he was having to pull the balloon basket behind him. Carmel had refused to help, explaining she was a carrier and not a puller/pusher. This had started a small disagreement and Reginald had asked quite tersely if Carmel-the-camel, like all other camels was worthy of the sobriquet, Ship of the Desert. Carmel, after a brief flick through a rather yellowed, 1950's Collins Pocket Dictionary, retorted that yes, she too was a Ship of the Desert. However, she was more of a yacht whereas Reginald clearly required a container ship!

  Reginald eventually slumped down next to Carmel and stared at the railway track. After a moment or two he looked to his right at the tracks vanishing off into the heat-hazed distance. He then propped himself up and looked left; the tracks vanished off into the heat-hazed distance in that direction too. Puzzled, he stood up and looked around, “Carmel, where is the station?” Carmel yawned and looked up at Reginald, “what station would that be honey-nose?”

  “The train station, of course, where I can catch a train back to my home.” Carmel stood up and looked down at the Prince of Baboons, “You only said you wanted to be taken to the nearest railway. Had you said you wanted to catch a train, I would have taken you to a station!” She then turned her back to Reginald but found this a bit tricky so turned her bottom to him instead. Reginald muttered to himself then asked, “what time does the next train pass this way?” He was sure he would be able to stop the train, somehow.

  Carmel looked up at the sky pretending to judge the time by the sun'
s height. “The next train should pass at around 4.00pm,” she said, trying to sound as knowledgeable as possible. Quickly checking his watch, Reginald said, “it's just after three now, so not too long to wait.”

  Carmel turned to face Reginald, an awkward smile on her face – camels do not usually venture beyond a straightforward smile, so an awkward smile was, well, quite awkward. “Ah that was yesterday...or maybe the week before. The train only comes...once a week...” her voice trailed off.

  Reginald slumped back down into the sand and held his head in his hands.

  At that moment a vulture landed on the other side of the railway tracks, stretched its wings and removed the flying helmet and goggles it was wearing. It then pulled out a small bottle of sunscreen from a bag around its neck and gave its wings and neck a good coating. After a little shake and a quick prune, the vulture strode over to Reginald and Carmel. It prodded and squeezed them both.

  “Hmm...” the vulture muttered, “given the height of the sun, the dry hot sand. I’d say another two-to-three hours and you'll be ready.”

  “Ready?” said Reginald, “ready for what?” The