The Bolds

by Julian Clary

  “Thank you, monkeys!” said Mrs. Bold, dabbing her eyes with a hankie. Then both she and Mr. Bold began to make noises of their own that weren’t any words Bobby or Betty had ever heard before. They both cackled and whooped in reply to the monkeys, who made similar noises back to them. More and more monkeys came and jumped on the car, some of them pressing their monkey mouths to the windows and blowing noisy raspberries at the Bolds.

  “Bless them, the darlings!” said Mrs. Bold, talking in English again. “They know we are animals and they are saying hello.”

  Suddenly a big, black-and-white striped Land Rover full of safari park rangers pulled alongside the Bolds’ car and sounded a loud siren a bit like a ship’s foghorn. The monkeys all scampered away and climbed back up into the trees.

  “Move along, please!” the rangers told Mr. Bold through a loudspeaker. “The monkeys are a little over-friendly today, nothing to be alarmed about.”

  “Oh, we’re not alarmed!” replied Mr. Bold. “We were rather enjoying all the attention.”

  “Wowsers,” said Betty. “That was amazeballs.”

  “Which animals are next?” asked Bobby.

  “Giraffes and zebras,” said Mr. Bold, without even glancing at the map. “I can smell them, can’t you?”

  The twins sniffed the air. They had no idea what giraffes or zebras smelled like, but they inhaled some horsey, straw-like scents that were entirely new to them.

  “I can smell something interesting!” said Bobby.

  “OMG,” agreed Betty. “Delish!”

  Several giraffes were loitering a few yards from the road, chewing some leaves from the top of a tree. They swung their heads to stare as the Bolds’ car approached, but they didn’t move.

  “Hello, giraffes!” said Mrs. Bold. “Come and say hello, why don’t you?” The giraffes stopped chewing and looked decidedly outraged at Mrs. Bold’s suggestion.

  A herd of zebras was next. They all raised their heads from where they were grazing, took one look at the Bolds’ vehicle, seemed to look at each other in amazement for a moment, and then galloped away quickly in the opposite direction, a cloud of dust at their hooves.

  “Why, it’s as if they want to get away from us!” said Bobby.

  “Yes, what’s their problem?” asked Betty.

  “Well, dears,” said Mrs. Bold, glancing back to make sure the park rangers weren’t watching all the different reactions this particular carload of visitors was getting from the park inhabitants, “hyenas and zebras never were the best of friends in Africa.”

  “Personality clash?” asked Betty.

  “Like Mr. McNumpty?” asked Bobby.

  “Something like that,” said Mrs. Bold.

  “Well, what?” persisted Bobby. “We’re only looking at them, like everyone else.”

  Mr. Bold sighed. “It’s just that where we came from, well, there weren’t any shops, you see. So we hyenas would get a bit peckish. And . . .”

  “And what?” demanded Betty.

  “Well, how can I put this?” he stuttered.

  “Hyenas find zebras quite tasty,” said Mrs. Bold in a sudden rush.

  “Yuck!” said Betty.

  “Well, they needn’t worry about us,” laughed Bobby. “We’re going to the Wilderness Café for our lunch today.”

  “Quite,” said Mrs. Bold. “Now, what’s next?” She consulted the map. “Ah, elephants.” She sounded relieved. There wouldn’t be too much reaction from the elephants. These huge, graceful creatures were not bothered by anything or anyone much, on the plains of the Serengeti. (Apart from evil poachers,of course.)

  A large family of elephants glided past the car, their big, knowing eyes looking a little surprised as they spotted the Bolds— but there was no other reaction. The Bolds all agreed they were magnificent, majestic animals.

  “My favorite so far,” declared Bobby.

  There was no adverse reaction either from the sea lions, who were snoozing by a large pond. The vultures just squawked loudly, but it sounded more like a warning than an alarm call, and the baboons threw lumps of earth at the Bolds’ car and showed their bottoms.

  “Gross!” said Betty.

  But then they got to the wild cats.

  “Lions next,” said Mrs. Bold, glancing nervously at her husband. “Do you think we should turn back?”

  “Why, Mum?” asked Bobby innocently. “I want to see the lions, the kings of the jungle!”

  “Lions and hyenas don’t get on, dear,” said Mrs. Bold. “In fact, we’re archenemies. Are your windows firmly shut?”

  “Oh,” replied Bobby excitedly. “Is there going to be a rumble in the jungle?”

  “With any luck they’ll be asleep,” Mr. Bold reassured him.

  “We’re not in Africa now, are we?” said Betty reasonably.

  “You can take the lion out of the wild, but you can’t take the wild out of the lion,” said Mr. Bold sagely.

  A pride of about ten lions of all shapes and sizes was lying on the grass, dozing in the summer sunshine. At least, they were until they got wind of the Bolds’ car. One by one they stood up, staring intently at the blue Honda. Betty gave a nervous giggle as two lionesses crouched down low and began to creep towards the car.

  “Do you think we should speed up a bit, Dad?” asked Bobby. By now a huge male lion was joining in, baring his teeth as he crept along. Mr. Bold accelerated, but already the three lions were in full pursuit, hissing and spitting at the Bolds with hatred in their eyes, the muscles in their backs rippling as they gathered pace towards their prey.

  “Quick!” said Bobby, “They’re nearly upon us!”

  “Uh–oh,” said Mr. Bold. “There’s only one thing to do in a situation like this. Ready, Amelia?”

  “Ready,” said Mrs. Bold through gritted teeth.

  Mr. Bold slammed on the brakes, and both he and Mrs. Bold opened their windows. Just as the nearest lioness was about to pounce on the car, the senior Bolds began a loud cackling and screaming—a cross between a laugh and a yell. The lions all stopped in their tracks, hesitated, hissed violently and then turned and fled.

  Mr. and Mrs. Bold stopped their noises and wound up the windows.

  “Shall we proceed, dear?” said Mrs. Bold with a prim smile, and Mr. Bold carried on with his driving.

  “Yes,” he said. “Let’s.”

  The twins looked at each other in astonishment.

  “What was THAT all about?” asked Betty.

  “Oh, the noise we made?” said Mrs. Bold. “Just an old trick from the mother country.”

  “Sounded wicked!” said Bobby, immediately trying to make a similar cacophony but sounding more like an angry parrot.

  “That’s enough, Bobby. You haven’t quite got the hang of it. I’ll teach you how to do it properly when we are somewhere far away from anyone who might hear,” said his father. “It is the hyena war cry—only to be used in situations of extreme danger or combat. Usually does the trick! Now then, what’s next?”

  “Oooh, Fred!” exclaimed Amelia after consulting the map. “The hyenas are next. The moment we have all been waiting for!”

  Chapter

  8

  It comes as no surprise to me that animals can talk. I’d be more surprised if they couldn’t. I have always talked to my pets and felt sure that they understood me. And I don’t just mean “Good boy” and “Bad boy.” The other day I had a very interesting conversation with my dog Albert about classical music. My favorite composer is Mozart. He said Bach.

  All living things communicate. Even members of the royal family know this—apparently they chat to their plants. Mainly rhubarb.

  When humans talk to animals it is one thing, but when animals talk to each other it is very hard to keep up—it’s like listening to a foreign language. Which, of course, it is. Dogs bark to each other over the garden fence—“Woof, woof, woof!”—but we can only guess what they are on about. Goldfish open and close their mouths, but we can’t hear a word. Only other goldfish under
stand.

  As the Bolds entered the hyena enclosure at Kenton Safari Park, the conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Bold and the “resident” hyenas was really quite advanced, as far as animal conversation goes.

  The safari hyenas didn’t speak English, although they understood it, so I think it will be easiest if I just translate it all for you—otherwise it will just be a lot of “grrrumps” and “shhrrrieekkks!” which wouldn’t be much fun for you to read, nor would it make any sense whatsoever.

  Bobby and Betty—although they hadn’t been taught much hyena language—instinctively understood the general gist of everything that was said because they actually were hyenas. But I know and can translate for you because I’m very clever, and that’s all I can say on the matter. Now, let’s get on with the story.

  Ah, but before we do, I need to explain a couple of things. There was a clan of six hyenas living at Kenton Safari Park: a couple named Boo and Ena, their three young pups born that spring, and a gnarled, elderly male named Tony.

  They had a nice life, with plenty of fresh meat thrown to them by the keepers, a warm burrow to sleep in at night, and plenty of space to run around in. They didn’t even mind the endless stream of cars driving past or the people inside leering at them. Boo and Ena would sometimes put on a bit of a show, running around chasing their tails or doing loud hyena laughs, which seemed to amuse the human visitors. They were protective of their three pups when they were first born, but proudly showed them off now they were a bit older.

  However, Tony—the older male—was feeling his age. He had a touch of arthritis and mostly lay about in the shade dozing, although he managed to get to his feet when it was feeding time.

  All of the hyenas knew their keeper well, and the evening before the Bold family visit, feeding time had taken place, as usual, at six o’clock. The hyenas were always ready for their food and would pace up and down the fence of their enclosure waiting for the truck to arrive. The keeper would then throw tasty chunks of meat through a specially designed hatch. Yesterday, though, there had been someone else with her: the vet. As the hyenas tucked into their dinner they could see the vet watching them and taking notes. This in itself was not that unusual: since the pups had been born the vet often came to take a look and check that they were healthy and happy.

  But this time the vet was clearly interested in Tony, and he was writing things down on a clipboard.

  “What’s with the vet?” Boo asked Ena.

  “Who knows?” replied Ena. “Seems to be watching Tony very closely. Have you noticed, Tony?”

  Tony couldn’t see or hear particularly well at his age—but he knew when he was being watched. “Nosy parkers,” he muttered with his mouth full. “Making a note of my middle-age spread, I shouldn’t wonder. How rude of them!” Tony had been at the safari park for many years, and used to be the leader of the hyenas. But nowadays he enjoyed his quiet life. He finished his dinner and dozed off to sleep.

  Boo and Ena were licking the pups’ faces clean when they heard the vet say to the keeper, “It’s very sad, but I think it’s time we put the old hyena to sleep. He’s a tired, grey-haired old fella, and that arthritis is clearly paining him and causing him a lot of trouble. Very soon the other hyenas will turn on him and kill him. It happens in the wild, and I don’t want it happening here. I think we should put him out of his misery.”

  “OK,” said the keeper. “It’s for the best. We’ve got a lot of tourists coming this week, so let’s do it . . . next Wednesday, after the park has closed for the day?”

  “Right–o,” agreed the vet, making a note of the date on his clipboard. “Sad, isn’t it?”

  “He’s had a good run,” said the keeper. “Been here longer than me. But he won’t feel a thing, will he?”

  “No, not at all. See you next week.” Boo and Ena stopped what they were doing, horrified.

  “No!” said Ena. “Not Tony—they can’t!”

  “There’s nothing wrong with him—he’s just old! He grumbles a bit about his arthritis, but he’s definitely not in constant pain and there’s no way we’d ever attack and kill him. How could they say such a thing?” said Boo. They looked over to where Tony was sleeping, happily oblivious.

  “We must try and stop them,” Ena said. “But how?”

  “There’s nothing we can do, I’m afraid,” said Boo. “Once their minds are made up, that’s it. Poor Tony.”

  “We can’t tell him,” said Ena sadly. “We must let him live out his last few days happy and content.”

  And they both resolved to be especially nice to Tony, giving him the finest bits of meat to eat and letting him sleep in the most comfortable spot in the burrow.

  He only had another seven days!

  Chapter

  9

  The chatter in the Bolds’ car was at fever pitch as they entered the hyena enclosure in the park.

  “My tail is wagging inside my trousers like no one’s business,” said Mr. Bold. “I just can’t believe we are going to see some of our brothers and sisters at long last.”

  “Can we get out the car and play with them?” asked Bobby.

  “Unfortunately not, dear,” said his mother. “The rules are very strict about that. But isn’t it exciting?”

  “I’ve never even seen another hyena,” said Betty. “Apart from us. What shall I say to them?”

  “We will use animal language,” said Mr. Bold firmly.

  “I expect it will come naturally to you,” added Mrs. Bold. “Once you hear it.”

  “Look!” shouted Bobby. “There they are!”

  The hyenas were about fifty yards ahead, not far from the road. Tony was lying on his back and the pups were climbing all over him, nuzzling his whiskered face and tumbling onto the grass before jumping back onto his stomach. Tony was smiling at them indulgently, occasionally giving each pup an affectionate lick, while Boo and Ena sat side by side a few yards away, looking on proudly but checking that the pups’ game didn’t get too boisterous for Tony.

  “They’ve got babies!” said Betty. “Three of them! That’s just so cute.”

  Unable to contain their excitement any longer, Fred and Amelia began shouting their greetings. “Hello! Over here! In the Honda!” and, “Don’t give the game away, but we are hyenas too!”

  Boo turned to the Bolds’ car, looking confused. Had he really heard hyena voices? Then he saw them.

  “Don’t look now, Ena, but there’s a car full of hyenas dressed as people,” he said.

  “You’re having a giraffe,” said Ena, peering towards the Honda. “Good heavens,” she stammered. “I do believe you’re right . . .” They both blinked their eyes in astonishment.

  “Yoo hoo!” shouted Fred. “We are so pleased to see you. Are you OK?”

  Ena and Boo shouted to Tony to stay with the pups and then they ran closer to the Bolds for a better look.

  “What on earth . . . ?” said Boo. “Yes, you really are hyenas!”

  “I’ve never seen such a thing!” said Ena. “Who are you? Where are you from? How come . . . ?”

  “It’s a long story, friends,” said Fred, quickly introducing himself, Amelia, and the children. “But we came here from Africa a few years back. Found some passports . . . Now we live in disguise. We’ve even got jobs and—”

  “I’ve got an overwhelming urge to get out of the car and sniff some hyena bottoms,” interrupted Bobby.

  “You’d be very welcome to,” said Boo. “We do it all the time. But I don’t think the keepers would like it.”

  “No, Bobby,” said Mrs. Bold. “We must stay in the car.”

  “This is my Boo, and I’m Ena,” said Ena.

  “Hi, Ena,” said Fred. “Hyena! That’s funny!”

  “Oh yes,” agreed Ena. “Never fails!” And everyone had a jolly good, loud laugh.

  Everyone—both clans—had so much to talk about, all of them amazed to meet some other hyenas. After a while, Ena called the pups over to meet their new friends, and Tony also am
bled over, scratching his head at the sight of the Bolds.

  “Living in a house? Sounds very nice,” he said. “It gets a bit cold here in the safari park in winter time. In fact, I think I’ve got a touch of arthritis in my back legs.”

  “Still, we mustn’t grumble,” said Boo. “We’re looked after very well here. Nice food delivered to us already cut up at six o’clock on the dot every day.”

  “If you’ll excuse me,” said Tony, “I’ve got a call of nature to make.” He wandered off into the long grass to attend to it.

  “What a sweet, adorable chap,” said Mrs. Bold.

  “He’s like the granddad we never had,” said Bobby as he watched Tony limp off.

  “It’s all so sad though,” said Ena, her voice quivering with emotion. “His days are numbered.”

  “Why is that?” asked Mr. Bold.

  Ena couldn’t bring herself to tell the story, so Boo took over.

  “The vet says Tony is too old. Thinks his arthritis is too painful. But the worst thing is, they think that because he’s weak Ena and I will attack him. But we’d never do that. He’s practically family, and our pups adore him. But . . .” He drew his claw across his throat. “Next Wednesday.”

  “No!” said Betty, horrified. “They’re going to kill him?”

  “Well, yes, put him to sleep. We heard them talking about it yesterday.”

  “Tony doesn’t know he’s a condemned hyena,” said Ena. “We thought it best not to tell him. It’s too awful—he’s such a lovely, kind old dear.”

  “And they are putting him down just because he’s a bit past it?” asked Mr. Bold. “That’s terrible.”

  “Can’t we take him home to live with us?” asked Betty.