Dabba Dabba Don't Is Missing

By Claudia A. Kukol

The Perils of the Amazon

Turning the pages slowly and thoughtfully, he stops when he reaches the page that has been dog-eared to mark its significance. Bringing the picture closer to his face, he moves it this way and that, and then places it back down. He runs his long, boney fingers over certain photographs and lingers. “Some of them sure look like me,” he whispers. “And, I don’t understand this printed word anthropoids—it must be what they are called. This is driving me crazy. Each day I think of nothing but them. The others like me are out there somewhere. I must find them, but how?”

The fanciful idea of this chimpanzee, Dabba Dabba Don’t, sparks and takes root. Determined to find others like himself, he leaves his home, the attic rooms of ArrowHeart Mansion, a haven for magical toys. His destination is the vast, uncharted regions of the Amazon of South America. There his original spark bursts into fireworks. Journeying through a hostile land, the chimp confronts each danger courageously and cleverly overcomes each difficulty, but, the success of the chimp’s headstrong mission is dependent upon an ape...the great silverback ape, Bongo.

Another mystery is afoot. It’s an incredulous discovery. Dabba Dabba Don’t, Bongo and the humans the chimp befriends in the Amazon are unaware of its importance...until much later. It poses great danger to the anthropoids inhabiting the Amazon region.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Claudia A. Kukol
• Release date: Feb 29, 2016
• ISBN: 9780997275056

Claudia A. Kukol

Claudia Kukol is a native of northeastern Pennsylvania, living smack dab in the heart of the Black Diamond anthracite coal region. Her passion is reading and she believes in magic—that is, the magical allure of books. Books are her doorways to anywhere, anytime, abounding with knowledge and adventure and laced with splendid characters past, present and fictional. The Author’s ArrowHeart Mansion Series, book series for children, is available at Amazon and Smashwords. You may contact the Author at [e-mail].

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Attic

W hen something’s not right, it’s just not right. Lily keenly sensed it. She and Gizelle flopped back onto fussy, plump pillows, kicking around the possible problem at hand.

Must we always expect problems and await disaster? It’s much too much drama, chirps Lily.

We all have our moods. He’s just out of sorts, says Gizelle.

With Lily’s relentless harping on the matter, Gizelle is finally convinced—there may be trouble brewing with the chimpanzee, Dabba Dabba Don’t. The remaining hours of afternoon tick by slowly. Patiently, they wait for Timmy to return to the attic rooms where they all live. It’s important they speak with Timmy, and soon.

Welcome to ArrowHeart Mansion. My name is Lily. While we’re waiting for Timmy, I’ll tell you a bit of our story. Hopefully you haven’t misunderstood, says Lily. Clearly we are not real children living in an attic, abandoned and on our own. Well over a half century ago, we three dolls—Gizelle, Timmy and I—came to live in this grand old house, the ArrowHeart Mansion. The elderly ArrowHearts purchased us at a curator’s shop. Although Ye Olde Treasure Shoppe enticed customers with a limited assortment of genuine antiques and collectibles, much of the floor space was heaped with good ol’ junk, avows Lily.

More importantly, you must know, she continues, "the antiques, collectibles and junk were just a façade. Yes, it was an ingenious front, a cover up, for what the curator actually sold from the store rooms inside.

The curator’s specialty was toys, declares Lily. Toys idled upon shelves, sitting motionless and staring beyond their tiny spaces. Ah, but once outside the shop, they left their lifeless world behind. The toys rallied to life and assumed distinct personalities, possessing some of the capabilities of real people. This was no accident. The curator undoubtedly knew his trade. Beyond the locked door of the shop’s rear workroom, bizarre murmurings and chanting escaped. We dolls were intrigued, and since then, we’ve concluded he was definitely performing magic.

Moving forward with her story, Lily points out, "The ArrowHearts were fantastically rich, indulging their every whim, especially their weakness for toys—‘realistic’ toys. Clever and observant, the old curator never failed to fulfill the wish list of the elderly couple. Deliveries from Ye Olde Treasure Shoppe arrived at the mansion regularly.

I vividly remember our arrival, says Lily. "We three dolls—Gizelle, Timmy and I—were impressed by the spectacular beauty of the mansion, as the servants quickly whisked us up a magnificent staircase leading to the second level, our new home—the playroom suites.

We three were not, however, alone in our amazing new surroundings, Lily acknowledges. Many curious toys that had already been living there greeted us by nodding, smiling, giggling and clapping. There were toys everywhere, no two alike: fuzzy monkeys, happy clowns, tear-drop clowns huddled and crying, windups, rocking horses, tinker toys, doll houses…In this world, expressly for children, every square foot was occupied. Lily smiles. "Most memorable upon our arrival was the mischievous chimpanzee, Dabba Dabba Don’t. He scampered across the room with great enthusiasm, showing a smooth palm and extending his long boney fingers to shake hands, become acquainted, and be our first friend at the mansion.

The oddity of the matter is, maintains Lily, "all of the toys from the curator’s shop came to life and entered into a living world. Before ArrowHeart, we dolls were aware of happenings around us, but our movements were limited. Things really began to pop when we arrived at the mansion. We were able to talk with one another. We laughed. We sang. We danced. We were no longer painfully stiff and could move whenever and wherever we wanted. We were delighted with all our changes.

Our calendar is now always empty, Lily nods with certainty. In the early years at the mansion, we marked in two dates. Twice a year, we entertained orphan children who were bused to the mansion for a fabulous day outing. They stormed the playrooms shrieking and grabbing toys, dragging the toys joyfully along. The ArrowHearts lavished them with every sumptuous sweet goodie imaginable. Their happiness, smiling faces and laughter captured our hearts. We had to be careful, though, emphasizes Lily. We never suggested to the orphan children, or anyone—not a hint—that we dolls and other toys were not exactly what we appeared to be. We all understood from the onset of our lives at the mansion that we must keep the secret.

Lily hesitates, then adds sadly, "One day, all the wonderful day parties for the orphans stopped abruptly. The owners, the ArrowHearts, were no longer seen at the mansion. What happened to them? We haven’t a clue.

There’s been trouble over the years, too sighs Lily. Our first crisis—a day none of us will ever forget—unfamiliar uniformed men barged into the playrooms. They were not the usual delivery men from the curator. Chaos ensued. Toys were tossed about recklessly, boxed up, and carted down the stairs and out the door. All of us capable of movement scattered in fear and hid, certain they would find us eventually. That’s for sure. But, imagine our good fortune. It didn’t happen. The men used up all the boxes they had brought. We heard them say they had none left to carry any more of the toys off to something called ‘charity.’ Well, says Lily, charity might not be so bad. But, we were scared and didn’t have any inkling what to expect from charity. In the end, we had nothing to fear. These men, clothed in their drab-colored uniforms, never returned. It must have been a mix up of sorts. Or, someone forgot to remind them to return and finish the job.

Lily’s thoughtful for a moment. Slowly, she resumes her story. "Throughout the following months, Gizelle, Timmy, and I tarried away in the playrooms on the second floor. All too soon, however, the next fright occurred, just months after the incident with the uniformed men. An elderly gentleman who we fancied was a long-time servant to the ArrowHearts gathered us all from the playrooms. After several jaunts up and down two stairwells, he relocated all of the toys to the fourth level of the mansion—the attic rooms.

The new setting was particularly different from below, says Lily. The old gentleman carefully scanned the attic scene. His eyes came to rest and focus upon us dolls. Lingering, he stared from across the attic, scrutinizing us. He seemed sad, pinching his lips tightly together, repeatedly shaking his head from right to left, appearing to grasp the situation, but not thoroughly accepting it. He steadily moved toward us with purpose. We held our breaths. The old servant stooped and reached for us. He lifted us and held us kindly in his arms. Next, he moved across the attic to the cubbyhole storage space and placed us inside for safekeeping. He then closed the tiny door. The gentleman servant, wrinkled and twisted with age, slowly turned and left the attic rooms.

Reminiscing, Lily quietly mutters, Our lives then changed forever. We managed to push open the cubbyhole door, and, although we were free, we felt uneasy at first. We inspected our new home and remained close. Living in the garret of the mansion, we were unaccustomed to everything stored there: the fancy carved furniture, the old-world chandeliers hanging haphazardly, classical oil paintings, and beat-up steamer trunks stuffed with the hodge-podge of ocean voyages. The life tokens of others surrounded us—the keepsakes of strangers, discarded and long forgotten.

Later on, we relaxed and wanted to see and do more, says Lily. "Our curiosity could not be contained. We strayed often, exploring the mansion top to bottom. Boldly, we ventured outside onto the vast, secluded grounds of the estate.

We never again saw the caring ArrowHeart couple, nor did we ever see their elderly servant again, confirms Lily. "We feared the old servant, but not because he would harm us. Rather, our alarm stemmed from one fact only—maybe he knew our secret. Yes, of course he did. We just knew he knew.

Whatever happens, happens, says Lily calmly. We cannot live filled with anxiety and spend our days worrying over every little thing, most of which may never come to pass.

Chapter 2

Pictures Tell a Story

T immy doll’s daily routine points him in directions opposite to the attic rooms. Some days, for example, he quietly sneaks along the mansion corridors. Randomly selecting and tip toeing into rooms, he snoops in whatever drawers, closets, desks, and huge armoires he encounters.

Mostly he loves loitering in what has become known to the dolls as the secret room. Timmy discovered the hidden chamber in the early times, right after he, Gizelle and Lily arrived at ArrowHeart. It’s nestled in the center of the mansion on the first floor, accessible by a mirror-camouflaged door in the attic. Behind the door, a steep, narrow staircase leads directly to the secret room. There’s another entrance to the secret room inside the mansion. It’s concealed near the kitchen pantry and rear stairs, those generally used by servants. All that’s needed is to find the one sizeable knot in the wood paneling and apply pressure to it. A tricky spring is activated, and voila! The wall panel swings open and a short passageway leads directly into the hidden chamber.

It’s the books which draw Timmy to the secret room most days, binding him there for hours. Immersed in his favorite history and literature volumes, he’s lost deep in thought, meeting notable, compelling characters, visiting times and places far from the reach of his mundane attic existence. Meanwhile, Gizelle and Lily anxiously await Timmy’s return.

Our problem today, sighs Lily, centers on Dabba Dabba Don’t, the plush toy chimpanzee who was our first acquaintance at the mansion. He is withdrawn and worsens with each passing day. I wish Timmy would return. He’s been gone almost the entire afternoon. Timmy will know what to do.

The mirrored door that conceals the secret stairs gradually pushes open and Timmy wobbles forward into the room where Lily and Gizelle have been waiting. Nearly losing his balance, he drops his burden of old magazines, newspapers, and issues of Worldwide: Our Earth.

"Timmy, these are exactly what we wanted to discuss with you, these Worldwide magazines says Gizelle, rushing to help with the bundles. The problem, Timmy, is Dabba Dabba Don’t. We’re worried."

Dabba’s off his mark, claims Lily. "For weeks, he’s been almost unapproachable. He sits daydreaming, routinely flipping the pages of Worldwide.Surely, we all agree, continues Lily, chimpanzees are never silent for long and do not sit still for more than a few short minutes. They’re always muttering and fidgeting. His behavior isn’t normal. Dabba’s deliberating some fanciful idea…I feel it…Some far-fetched scheme may soon be hatched."

You girls are overreacting. Don’t you have anything better to do than dream up problems? Dabba, proclaims Timmy, can read and write in his own limited way. Yes, he’s glancing at pictures, but he is also reading in bits and pieces. I understand why he enjoys the magazines so much. The photo exposé, hand-in-hand with the interesting stories, are excellent.

Timmy explains further to Gizelle and Lily, "Worldwide: Our Earth shares with its readers our planet and all its life forms. It’s a wealth of knowledge, reviewing exotic plants, rare animals, and even humans who exist in the most remote regions of the world. It touches upon the land, carries you high into the air of the earth’s atmosphere,