The Tortoise

By Kayla, age 9

‘Hey guys!’ I bounded into the house and slid out of my backpack. 

‘What’s up?’ My sister asked. I scrambled onto the couch.

‘You haven’t been this excited in years, honey; is something wrong?’ My mother asked cautiously. My father glanced nervously at my sister.

‘Well…’ I grinned. ‘I got a tortoise, a massive one!’ I pointed at the front door. My sister laughed, my mother looked confused and my dad glanced nervously at my sister.

‘If you’ve got one, then where is it?’ My sister asked. Then she rolled her eyes. I sighed, and then told my sister, 

‘Tortoises are slow, of course. Give Geoffrey some time.’

‘Nerd,’ my sister teased distantly, scrolling at things on her phone.

‘Honey, are you sure about this…?’ my mother asked. She sounded worried. I heard some soft thumping on the floor, and my family and I all looked towards the door. After a few seconds Geoffrey arrived.

‘Aha!’ I yelled, and leapt to my feet. ‘Everyone, I’d like you to meet Geoffrey. Geoffrey, family, family Geoffrey!’ Panting, I realised I hadn’t paused to take a breath, so I inhaled some air.

My mother looked uncomfortable, my father glanced nervously at my sister, my sister rolled her eyes and then they all looked back at me. 

‘What?’ I asked.

‘The tortoise,’ they said in unison, pointing at Geoffrey. 

‘Come on,’ I insisted. ‘Geoffrey isn't that bad, plus he needed help!’

‘What do you mean, sweetheart?’ My mother queried quietly. 

‘Let me give you the whole story.’ I said.

‘I was on my bike home from school. I was hungry so I stopped by the cafe on the way home, and after I had ordered I sat down at one of the tables outside, and there I saw Geoffrey. He was by the gutter next to the curb, and I could see he had a piece of his shell missing. I looked around to see if anyone was going to collect him, but when I saw the mud all over his side, I realised he had been deserted by the gutter long ago. I scooped him up, and brought him to the local vet. They bandaged up his shell, and told me that he was a boy. There was no microchip, they explained, and he belonged to no one.’

‘You can pay for that?’ my sister interrupted. 

‘Of course I can. I’m not a little kid.’ I replied, annoyed. ‘Back to my story.’ I said.

‘I continued on my way home, but I was soon stopped by a stocky, tall man in black.

‘Excuse me,’ he boomed. ‘That is my tortoise.’ 

‘It is?’ I squeaked.

‘Yes,’ the man replied proudly. ‘The rarest type, the Ploughshare tortoise.’ He flashed me a movie-star smile, and I saw a gold tooth shine. I realised who he really was.

‘Thief!’ I screamed. ‘Help! Thief! Get the police!’ people looked around wildly, and I could see the man had started sweating as people crowded around him. I grabbed Geoffrey and raced off.’

‘Surely not,’ said my mother, shaking her head in disbelief.

‘Of course, not, mum!’ my sister shouted. ‘She’s lying!’

‘I don’t know, Sophia,’ said my father. ‘Look at this;’ my father held up the paper. ‘Tortoise thief captured, police alerted by local girl hero Charlotte Reid!’

‘It’s true!’ My mother gasped.

‘Hhmph!’ My sister huffed and crossed her arms. ‘I don’t believe it!’