It was just another peaceful morning at Auntie’s house—until she noticed the silence. Too quiet. No rustling, no playful chatter, and worst of all, no Cubis. The little monkey, full of mischief and energy, was nowhere to be found. Auntie called his name, searched under the bed, behind the couch, even in his favorite snack cupboard—but he was gone.
Panic set in quickly. “Cubis never leaves without telling me,” she whispered, heart racing. She rushed outside, calling out his name through the garden, the alley, and down the neighborhood street. No answer. Only the sound of the breeze and her own worried footsteps echoed back.
The truth was, Cubis had run away. A small misunderstanding the night before—Auntie had told him “no” when he wanted to play past bedtime—had upset him. Feeling sad and stubborn, Cubis had waited for the first chance to sneak out in the morning, determined to explore the world on his own.
At first, Cubis felt proud of his decision. He climbed trees, peeked through windows, and even tried to follow a group of children walking to school. But as time passed, the excitement faded. His tummy rumbled. His feet ached. And the world didn’t seem so friendly without Auntie’s hugs or her warm banana pancakes.
Back at home, Auntie was nearly in tears when she heard a soft knock on the back door. She rushed over, flung it open—and there he was. Muddy, tired, and with his head hanging low, Cubis stood holding a tiny flower he’d picked for her.
Without hesitation, Auntie scooped him up into her arms. “You silly monkey,” she whispered through tears. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
Cubis wrapped his arms around her neck, holding on tightly. Lesson learned. There really was no place like home—and no love like Auntie’s.
