Derrick worked steadily alongside the baboon, clipping and trimming with surprising care. The garden was a masterpiece—every leaf and branch meticulously shaped. He felt an odd comfort in the rhythmic snip-snip of the pruning shears, the gentle rustling of the leaves, and the baboon’s quiet company.
“Why you help me?” Derrick finally asked, wiping sweat from his brow.
The baboon paused, his dark eyes meeting Derrick’s. “Not many friends here. You listen. You try.” His voice was gravelly but warm. “I… like you. Like to teach.”
Derrick smiled, feeling a flutter of pride. “Thanks.”
The baboon looked thoughtful, then said slowly, “You learn… maybe stay long. Learn more.”
Derrick glanced at the pristine bushes, then the baboon’s careful hands working. “What happens if I stay?”
The baboon shrugged, grinning. “You get better. You get strong. You understand more. Maybe… you help more.”
Derrick’s curiosity grew. “You always here?”
“Yes. Long time. Before you come. Before house, before island… here.”
“How did you get here?”
The baboon sighed softly, the sound almost human. “Don’t know. Always gardener. Always here.”
Derrick’s fingers tightened on the shears. “You never leave?”
“Never want. This place… home.”
A gentle breeze rustled the leaves as Derrick looked up at the sprawling garden and the gleaming white villa beyond. The baboon resumed trimming, humming quietly to himself. Derrick felt a strange warmth spread inside him—something like belonging, like he had found a place where he mattered.
“You think I could stay?” Derrick whispered.
The baboon smiled, eyes twinkling. “You already stay. You already part of garden.”
Derrick blinked, suddenly aware of the strange closeness, the quiet patience in the baboon’s voice, and a pull in his chest. It was as if something was slowly weaving itself between them—an invisible bond growing stronger with every snip and every shared moment.
For the first time since arriving, Derrick felt truly at peace.