The house was unusually quiet that afternoon. Normally, Cubis’s mischievous chatter and playful antics filled every corner, but now there was only silence. Dad called his name once, twice—no answer. Panic rose quickly when the back door was found wide open. That’s when the note appeared, scrawled in messy handwriting: “Cubis is mine now.”
A dangerous thief had taken him.
The thought alone sent chills down everyone’s spine. Cubis wasn’t just a little monkey—he was family. His curious nature and trusting eyes must have made him an easy target. The idea of him frightened, away from home, was unbearable. Dad clenched his fists, determination burning in his eyes. This thief had no idea what kind of trouble he had just invited.
Meanwhile, Cubis, though scared at first, quickly revealed his clever side. The thief stuffed him into a sack, but Cubis wriggled, bit at the rope, and squealed loudly enough to draw attention. When the thief tried to silence him, Cubis twisted away, grabbing anything within reach—keys, coins, even the thief’s hat—and tossing them onto the ground to create chaos. His little brain was working fast.
Back at home, the family and neighbors searched together, following the trail of scattered objects Cubis had cleverly left behind. Each clue brought them closer until, finally, they cornered the thief in an alley. The man snarled, holding Cubis tightly, but Cubis had already made his move. With one swift leap, he clung to Dad’s shoulders, squealing with relief.
The crowd erupted, and the thief was quickly dealt with, but no one cared about him anymore. All eyes were on Cubis—safe, trembling slightly, but flashing a cheeky grin that showed his spirit hadn’t been broken.
That night, Cubis clung extra tightly to Dad, refusing to let go. The ordeal had been frightening, but it also proved something powerful: no thief, no danger, could ever break the bond between Cubis and his family.
