The path to the lily pond led through the tall grass of the savanna, which reached up to Kofi's knees and moved like golden waves in the wind. Felix hopped ahead, while Gustav the vulture circled above them, still searching for an edible leaf.
“Tell me,” called Felix, turning around, “how do flies actually taste like donuts?”
“That’s a secret,” said Kofi slyly. “But I can tell you: they don’t make you fat. Unlike real donuts.”
“Too bad,” muttered Felix. “I always dreamed of being a fat frog. Then I could lie on my belly and watch the world.”
Gustav laughed so loudly that almost a feather fell from his wing. “A fat frog? My boy, in the savanna only one makes the fat frog – and that is Mr. Bongo!”
“Who is Mr. Bongo?” asked Kofi curiously.
“The only elephant who ever tried to learn to dance,” said Gustav. “He had no idea about dancing. But he had momentum.” He paused. “Too much momentum.”
At that moment a deep BANG! came through the air. The ground shook, and Kofi had to hold tightly to a tuft of grass.
“Oh no,” said Felix, hiding behind a large lily pad. “That sounds like Bongo.”
Indeed, a huge gray figure appeared out of the mist – Mr. Bongo, an elephant with a hat made of palm leaves, sitting crookedly on his head and looking like an umbrella that forgot to close.
“HELLO FRIENDS!” shouted Bongo so loudly that all the birds within a mile radius were startled. “DANCE WITH ME! TODAY IS THE DAY FOR BONGO TANGO!”
He lifted a leg and tried to make a spin. The result was less “tango” and more “earthquake.”
Kofi giggled. “Mr. Bongo, you are fantastic!”
“THANK YOU!” bellowed Bongo, losing his hat in the process. It landed right in the tall grass and was immediately taken over by a group of eager termites who considered it their new home.
“OH NO!” cried Bongo. “MY STYLISH HAT!”
Felix jumped forward bravely. “Don’t worry, Mr. Bongo! We’ll find your hat! But you have to promise not to dance while we search.”
Bongo looked downcast. “NOT DANCE? THAT’S LIKE... BEING AN ELEPHANT WITHOUT BEING AN ELEPHANT!”
“Promise,” said Kofi. “We’ll look for the hat. And as a reward, we’ll show you the fly donuts at the pond.”
“DONUTS?” shouted Bongo. “ELEPHANTS LIKE DONUTS!”
“Uh,” said Kofi cautiously. “Fly donuts. So... flies. That taste like donuts.”
Bongo paused. “FLIES?”
“Yes,” said Felix, nodding seriously. “But they’re tasty!”
“THEN...,” said Bongo slowly, “TAKE ME TO THE FLY DONUTS!”
So they all marched on: Kofi in front, Felix on his shoulder, Gustav flying above, and Bongo behind, stepping as carefully as if he were walking on eggshells. Unfortunately, that was impossible.
When they finally reached the lily pond, the water surface lay before them like a green carpet. But there was a problem.
Something big was swimming on the pond. About the size of a car. With eyes. And a mouth.
“What is that?” asked Kofi, stepping back.
Gustav circled higher. “That’s Madame Croco! A crocodile who believes she is a mermaid.”
Madame Croco slowly surfaced and greeted with a fin. “Good day, little ones! Are you looking for a mirror? Because I am beautiful!”
“Excuse me,” said Kofi politely. “We just wanted the fly donuts.”
“Watch out!” warned Madame Croco. “These flies belong to ME! Since last week! I put up a sign!”
“A sign?” asked Felix confused. “I don’t see a sign.”
“IT’S UNDER MY TAIL!” shouted Madame Croco proudly.
Everyone looked at the crocodile’s tail. Indeed, a small wooden sign stuck out with the inscription: “Private Fly Zone. Please knock.”
“Knock?” said Kofi. “On flies?”
“YOU MUST RESPECT FLIES!” exclaimed Madame Croco indignantly. “THEY ARE THE SMALLEST FARMERS IN THE SAVANNA!”
Mr. Bongo could no longer hold back. A deep growl rose in his chest, then burst out:
“HAHAHA! THE SMALLEST FARMERS! THAT’S FUNNY!”
His laughter was so loud that Madame Croco dived scared into the water. Her tail wagged, and the sign flew off – right onto Felix’s head.
“Now you have it,” said Felix triumphantly. “That’s your sign!”
Madame Croco surfaced again. “THOSE ARE MY RIGHTS!”
“Okay, okay,” said Kofi quickly. “We’ll pay for the fly donuts! But please let us have at least twenty flies!”
“TWENTY?” asked Madame Croco skeptically. “THAT’S AN EXPENSIVE PRICE!”
“How much does a single one cost?” asked Felix curiously.
“One fly costs one wish,” said Madame Croco mysteriously. “And twenty flies cost twenty wishes. BUT – if you don’t need them, you can keep them!”
Kofi and Felix exchanged looks. Wishes? Now? That sounded complicated.
“Maybe,” said Kofi slowly, “we can use the wishes later? Like a savings book?”
“SAVINGS BOOK?” exclaimed Madame Croco excitedly. “THAT’S BRILLIANT! A WISH SAVINGS BOOK!”
And with that, she took twenty flies and handed them to Kofi in a small leaf basket. In return, she received a promise note that said: “Twenty wishes from Kofi, Felix, Bongo & Co.”
“Perfect,” said Felix, eating a fly. “Mmmh! Really tastes like donuts!”
“Really?” asked Bongo, looking envious.
“Try it!” said Felix. “One for you!”
Bongo ate the fly. His ears widened. “...It tastes like... rainwater and... honey?”
“Exactly,” said Kofi smiling. “That’s the magic of the savanna.”
Just at that moment a deep voice whispered behind them:
“Well done, children. But watch out for the wishes. Sometimes things come that you don’t expect.”
Everyone turned around. The Baobab tree was there – or at least its voice, coming from the wind.
“Baobab?” asked Kofi surprised.
“Yes,” said the tree. “And I tell you: this wish saving will soon be useful to you. Because tomorrow someone else will wake up who also needs wishes.”
“Who?” asked Bongo excitedly. “Tell me!”
“You’ll find out tomorrow,” answered the tree. “Now go home. Before Madame Croco raises her prices.”
Madame Croco grinned. “By the way... from tomorrow one fly costs two wishes!”
Everyone ran off.
(To be continued in Part 3...)