They are sitting on a patch of grass on Koh Tarutao island
The sun is high, with soft clouds drifting lazily across the sky. Zippy is sitting on the grass, pretending he’s just leapt off a vine, giggling and wiggling his toes. Lekkie is sitting right beside him on the grass, holding his head high as if he’s the king of the jungle. The rest of the group is further off, busy resting or exploring nearby.

Zippy: You know, for a creature who can’t move faster than a melting coconut, you sure do carry yourself like you own the place, Lekkie.

Lekkie: (Puffs out his tiny chest) It is not about speed, my bouncy friend. It is about presence. Gravitas. A certain… je ne sais quoi. Quality over quantity. Any monkey can scurry. It takes a true legend to command respect while remaining perfectly still.

Zippy: “Legend”? You’ve been calling yourself that since we met. How did a legend like you end up with a city boy like Hammie anyway? Did he find you in a book of myths?

Lekkie: (Haughtily) He did not find me. Our paths were destined to cross. It was on Koh Ang Thong. I was… conducting, well, a hydro-dynamic survey of the camp’s plumbing facilities.

Zippy: You were just scurrying around in the showers near the camping area, weren’t you?

Lekkie: (Ignoring him) I was meditating in the cascading waters when this blond-haired giant appeared. He was clumsy, noisy… but I sensed a flicker of potential. He saw me, of course. Who could miss my magnificent physique? The blond boy looked startled, most likely afraid. He probably thought, “Behold! A fearsome water spirit!”

Zippy: Or he thought, “Ew, a scary blood-sucking leech.”

Lekkie: Semantics. He reached into the rushing water to scoop me out. Not with a stick, mind you, like one would a common slug. No, with his hand! It was a gesture of immense respect. A recognition of my superior status. He lifted me from the watery chaos, a look of awe on his face. Later, he saw that my energy was low from my… important duties. And he made me an offering.

Zippy: An offering? Like a banana?

Lekkie: Please. I am not a primate. He offered me a taste of his own life force. A drop of blood. It was a pact. A bond forged between a humble boy and the jungle’s greatest warrior. He knew greatness when he saw it.

Zippy: He thought you were hungry.

Lekkie: And I was! Hungry for justice! And also a little bit for blood, yes. But that’s beside the point. From that moment on, I became his sworn protector. A warrior he desperately needed, I might add. A good thing, too. He would have been lost without me on the boat journey here. You’ve heard of Sting, of course? The winged terror? Fierce leader of the mosquitoes? The one with the massive, blood-dripping stinger that glints in the sun? The one whose very buzz sends tourists screaming for their lives?

Zippy: I’ve heard the stories. They say he’s meaner than a sunburnt snake.

Lekkie: (Lets out a theatrical sigh) Those are not stories, my friend, they are warnings. That monstrous menace… is utterly, completely, and pathetically terrified of me.

Zippy: (Skeptical) Of you? You’re like a tiny, squishy jellybean. He’s a flying needle of death.

Lekkie: You fail to appreciate the subtleties of power, Zippy. It is not about size; it is about authority. You see, I can speak many languages. I am master of tongues. And one of my many fluencies is High Mosquito. A very complex language, full of whines and clicks.

Zippy: “High Mosquito”? Is that a real language? Or is it just you making high-pitched squeaky noises?

Lekkie: It is an ancient and noble tongue! And Sting understands it perfectly. When he gets too big for his britches, trying to bully Hammie or the tourists, I simply have to warn Sting. I square my shoulders and I tell him off. I say something like, “Listen here, you airborne pestilence! Buzz off this instant, or I will personally see to it that Princess Lizzy turns you and your entire pathetic squadron into a new batch of her famous mozzie burgers!”

Zippy: You really say that?

Lekkie: Word for word! And you should see him! That big, bad stinger of his droops. His wings start to flutter all wrong. He makes this pathetic little ‘eep’ sound and flies away backwards, zig-zagging like a… like a real scaredy-mozzie who just saw a ghost! He knows who the real biggest bloodsucker in the jungle is. And it isn’t him.

Zippy: So you just talk to him and he flies away? Just like that?

Lekkie: Essentially, yes. It’s a heavy burden, being the sole keeper of peace between the mosquito and non-mosquito worlds, but I manage it incredibly well.

Zippy: Oh yeah? I heard there was some trouble with jellyfish while you were on the boat to our island.

Lekkie: (His voice booms with self-importance) Trouble? My friend, it was a crisis of catastrophic proportions! Goggles, in a moment of reckless curiosity, embraced a creature of pure venom. A glowing purple agent of paralysis! She collapsed, her life fading, the venom surging. Captain Somtam was panicking. Hammie was wailing. Lizzy was… well, Lizzy was trying, but what can a gecko do against such potent oceanic poison?

Zippy: So what did you do? Bite the jellyfish?

Lekkie: (Scoffs) Brute force? How silly! No, the situation called for a more refined solution. It required… medicine. And I, Lekkie, am the jungle’s finest chemist. I produced a single, perfect drop of my legendary, life-giving, all-purpose slime.

Zippy: You got scared and oozed goo. Haaaa!

Lekkie: It was a calculated secretion! A potent remedy. Lizzy, recognizing its power, mixed it with some other minor ingredients—coconut milk, I believe, for flavour—and applied it to Goggles. And behold! The venom vanished in an instant. Life returned to her limbs. Colour returned to her face. I, Lekkie, single-handedly snatched her from the jaws of a squishy, translucent death. They call me Doctor Slimy now, you know.

Zippy: Nobody calls you that.

Lekkie: They will. It’s catching on. It’s a skill passed down through my family line. We are not just warriors; we are healers. My own grandmother, a leech of formidable size and even more formidable appetite, was a legend in her own right.

Zippy: (Eyes wide with amusement) Here we go. The whale story. Heheeee!

Lekkie: It was not just a whale. It was a huge sea monster! A tyrant of the deep that terrorized the reefs with its sheer bigness! It would swim by, all proud, making waves, bothering the smaller and weaker fish. My grandmother, bless her gigantic lips, would not stand for it. One day, she swam out to meet it. The whale laughed, a great, booming sound that shook the coral. “What can a little leech do to me?” it bellowed.

Zippy: What did you mama do to the poor whale?

Lekkie: She latched onto its nose and administered a lesson in humility. She slurped and she slurped, her great lips working like the finest pump ever crafted. The whale’s eyes went crossed. It wobbled. It listed to one side. And then, with a soft gurgle, it fainted dead away, floating belly-up like a discarded banana peel. My granny taught it that size isn’t everything. It’s about technique. And having very, very powerful lips.

Zippy is rolling on the ground, clutching his stomach with laughter.

Lekkie: It is not a joke! It is my heritage! But enough about my glorious lineage. What about you, Mr. “I-can-zip-faster-than-a-blink”? You seem to know your way around these trees.

Zippy: (Sits up, instantly alert) This jungle is my playground. I don’t walk on the ground like you slowpokes. I fly. I ricochet off branches, I use vines as trampolines. I’m a brown-and-white blur. When Sandy and her nasty sandflies come out, I don’t fight them. That’s what they want.

Lekkie: Hah! You run away! The great Zippy is a coward!

Zippy: I don’t run. I outwit. I lead them on a chase through the tightest, thorniest parts of the jungle. They’re a cloud of glittering dust behind me. Then, zip, I swing through a giant spiderweb. I’m smart enough to pass through. They are not. SPLAT. They all get stuck. A whole squadron of bullies, defeated by interior decorating. Then I swing back and laugh.

Lekkie: Clever. For a monkey. But what about that other one? The big swaggering buffoon with the sunglasses. Mackie.

Zippy: (He looks around to make sure no one is listening. His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper.) Okay… can you keep a secret?

Lekkie: The secrets I hold could fill the ocean. Go on.

Zippy: (Whispering) I kind of think… he’s cool.

Lekkie: (Recoils in horror) What?! Cool? He’s a thief! A bully! A terrible dancer! And the sunglasses! Who wears three pairs at once? It’s a crime against fashion!

Zippy: I know, I know! But it’s… a look! He has style. He’s a bad guy, and he knows it. He has that swagger. Don’t you think it’s a little bit… impressive? The way he just doesn’t care what anyone thinks!

Lekkie: (Utterly disgusted) Impressive? He’s a menace! I would teach him a lesson he would never forget! I would… I would attach myself to his favorite pair of sunglasses and not let go!

Zippy: See? Even you admit the sunglasses are important!

Lekkie: That is not what… Oh, never mind. You have a crush on a villain. This is a dark day for the forces of good. We must find this potion quickly, before his bad-guy coolness corrupts you completely.

Lekkie says this with his usual bravado, but then his voice trails off. He looks down, his posture slumping for the first time. The larger-than-life energy seems to drain out of him.

Zippy: (Notices the change immediately. He moved closer to Lekkie, his tone now gentle.) Hey. What’s wrong? You got quiet. That’s not like you.

Lekkie: (His voice is small, a mere whisper) We joke. We tell stories. But… what if we don’t find it, Zippy? We’ve been to so many places. Crocodile Cave, the waterfall… all of them empty. What if we search the last place and it’s not there?

Zippy: We’ll find it. Hammie has the map. Angun told him.

Lekkie: But what if it’s too late? Billy said the King and Queen are getting worse. What if we get the potion, we make the long journey back… and… and they’re…

Lekkie stops. His whole body quivers. Zippy looks closer and sees a single, slimy tear roll slowly down Lekkie’s side and onto the grass.

Lekkie: (Voice cracking) They are so good, Zippy. They look after everyone. The lizards, the hornbills… even silly little leeches. Lizzy… she would be so sad. I try to be brave. I puff out my chest and I tell my stories… but I’m… I’m just a little leech. And I’m really, really scared.

Zippy is silent for a moment, the cheerful energy gone, replaced by a surprising stillness. He reaches out a gentle finger and softly pats Lekkie’s back.

Zippy: Hey. It’s okay to be scared. Being brave doesn’t mean you’re not afraid. It means you keep going. And you, Lekkie, you always keep going. You faced down Sting. You offered your slime to save Goggles. You’re the bravest leech I know.

Lekkie: (Sniffles, a tiny, pathetic sound) Really?

Zippy: Really. And you’re not a little leech. You’re part of our team. We have Hammie, and Lizzy, and Goggles, and Mama Ruth… and me. We’re all in this together. We’re going to find that ambergris. And we’re going to get it to the King and Queen. And we will be on time. I promise. Now, stop crying. You’re making yourself all wet.

Lekkie manages a weak chuckle. He straightens up, trying to regain some of his lost dignity. He puffs his chest out, though it’s not as convincing as before.

Lekkie: You are right. A legend does not cry. He… conserves his precious bodily fluids for medicinal purposes. That is what I was doing. Conserving. Now, let us rejoin the others. There is a kingdom to save!

Lekkie starts to slide off the grass, full of renewed purpose. Zippy grins, then with a flick of his tail, he zips back up to his vine, the cheerful, energetic monkey once more, but with a new, deeper respect for his small, boastful, and incredibly brave friend.