Toad Heaven (12 page)

“No,” said Goliath's voice. “Why, doesn't she want her paper bag?”

Limpy wished he were more like Goliath.

If I had a smaller brain and a bigger stomach, he thought, perhaps I wouldn't worry so much.

About Charm.

About the virus germs.

About whether the bus really was heading to another national park.

About what would happen if they couldn't escape from their humans and had to spend the rest of their lives on a mantelpiece.

What I need, thought Limpy, is something to take my mind off things.

He started eating his paper bag.

The bus stopped with a jolt.

Limpy winced, pulled the plankton pen out of his bottom, and listened.

The humans were getting off the bus.

This was the moment Limpy had been waiting for. “We're at the national park and Charm is with us,” he said to himself. “We're at the national park and Charm is with us. We're at the national park and Charm is with us.”

Goliath reckoned if you said something enough times, it came true. He was always saying things like “I can fit another swamp slug into my mouth, I can fit another swamp slug into my mouth,” and sometimes
he could.

Limpy realized that the noise of the bus engine had stopped too. He could hear another noise now, and it wasn't how he'd imagined a national park would sound.

It was a roar.

A loud roar that wasn't getting softer or coming to an end, just going on and on and on.

What could it be? A huge campground generator? A very angry wild pig? A truck upside down in a ditch with its accelerator jammed on?

It didn't really sound like any of those.

Then another thought came to Limpy.

He'd heard a roar like that before, but not so close.

It was the roar of a plane.

Limpy had seen them often, flying high over the swamp, and a wise old buzzard had told him all about them.

This bus is on the ground, thought Limpy, which means the plane must be on the ground too. Which means we're probably at an airport. Which means there could be lots of planes.

A horrible possibility was growing in his mind.

Panic started to churn in his guts.

What if the humans get onto the planes with their luggage? thought Limpy. The pilots will wind up the big rubber bands and we could all be flown to different
places. Me and Goliath and Charm might never see each other again.

“Quick!” yelled Limpy. “Goliath. Charm. We've got to get out of here.”

Limpy felt for the hole he'd chewed in the paper bag and ripped it into a bigger hole and scrambled through. He fought his way up through a tangle of human clothes and shoes to what he hoped was the top of the rucksack.

Yes, that felt like a flap. He'd seen them on wombats’ bottoms.

Limpy wrestled it open and dragged himself out.

As his eyes slowly got used to the dim light, he saw that the luggage compartment of the bus was huge. Rucksacks were piled almost as far as he could see.

“Goliath,” he croaked. “Charm. Where are you?”

“Here,” said Goliath's muffled voice.

Limpy threw himself at the rucksack he thought the voice had come from. He got the rucksack open and heaved out human clothes wildly.

There were Goliath's legs.

Limpy grabbed them and hauled on them.

“Hey,” protested Goliath as he emerged. “I'm eating. There's a hat in there that's full of white flaky stuff that's really yummy. Like dried coconut, only better.”

“We've got to go,” said Limpy. “But first we've got to find Charm.”

L
impy scrambled to all corners of the luggage compartment, yelling Charm's name over and over, hoping desperately that Goliath's repeating trick would work this time.

It did.

“Down here,” called a tearful voice.

“Yes,” shouted Goliath. “She's here. We've found her.” He kissed something in his fist. “Thank you, lucky rabbit poo.”

Limpy felt faint with relief.

He dragged Goliath down a mountain of luggage and there was Charm, kissing something herself.

When Limpy saw what she was doing, he felt such a glow of love that he almost forgot the danger they were in.

But not quite.

Gently he pulled her away from the paper bag and
from the lips of the shiny cane toad inside it.

“I was just giving him the kiss of life,” said Charm. “To try and revive him. He might not be completely dead.”

“Charm,” said Limpy softly. “He's full of sawdust.”

“So what?” said Charm tearfully. “Goliath eats heaps of sawdust.”

Limpy sighed and turned to Goliath.

“You explain,” he pleaded.

“Explain what?” said Goliath. “I don't understand anything. I don't even understand why a human would keep delicious food in his hat.”

Limpy dragged them both toward an air vent. On the way, he told them about the airport.

They listened to the roar.

And understood.

Together the three of them frantically pounded at the air vent with the miniature cricket bat and the tennis racquet and the golf club.

It was no good. The metal strips wouldn't budge.

Then daylight flooded into the gloom of the luggage compartment. Limpy squinted fearfully into the glare.

The bus driver had opened the compartment door and was pulling luggage out.

Limpy grabbed Goliath and Charm and dragged them into the shadows.

“Shall we all get into the same rucksack?” whispered Charm. “At least that way we'll all be together.”

Before Limpy could reply, a figure came crawling into the compartment.

Limpy recognized the figure. It was the young human who hadn't wanted to buy him. The boy started dragging bags from the back of the compartment and pushing them out toward the driver.

“Quick!” whispered Limpy. “Into this rucksack.”

They were too late. The boy grabbed the rucksack while Goliath was trying to climb into it. Goliath fell back onto Limpy and Charm. The three of them lay there, dazzled by daylight, while the boy stared at them.

“Wow,” said the boy. “Live cane toads.”

Limpy, trying not to move a muscle, hoped the boy had said something about dead cane toads and putting them back into the rucksack.

No such luck.

The boy's freckled face broke into a grin, and his eyes widened.

Limpy knew that look. He'd seen human kids give that look to possums and mice and wallabies in campsites. It was the look humans gave to animals they wanted as pets.

“Hop for it,” he croaked to Charm and Goliath.

Too late again.

The boy picked them up in a wriggling armful and dropped them in a tangled heap down into his wind-breaker.

Limpy moved his bottom off Goliath's face and took Charm's elbow out of his mouth. He could feel the boy's hand supporting them on the other side of the windbreaker, which was rocking from side to side as the boy crawled.

Then they all went into a tangle again.

Limpy guessed the boy had climbed out of the bus and stood up. Now it felt as if the boy was walking.

“I'm gunna bite through this cloth,” growled Goliath, “and spray him.”

Limpy thought about this. It seemed a reasonable thing to do under the circumstances. Then he thought about the boy's friendly freckled face.

“No,” said Limpy. “He just wants us to be his pets. Maybe he'll be happy with just one of us. He can have me.”

“No,” said Charm, gripping Limpy's head.

Limpy gently pulled himself away. “I've got virus germs,” he said. “You two might not. It's better you both find the national park and get Mum and Dad and the others there.”

“No,” said Charm again.

“I'm definitely gunna spray him,” said Goliath.

Before Goliath could start chewing the windbreaker,
the boy's hands reached down inside it and lifted the three of them out.

Limpy started to tell Goliath and Charm to look really bad-tempered and unfriendly so the boy wouldn't want them as pets. He stopped when he realized the boy was placing all three of them on the ground.

“Go on,” said the boy, smiling. “Hop it before the souvenir hunters get you.”

Limpy hoped the boy was saying, “I only want the one with the crook leg; you other two grumpy-looking ones can go.” Then he realized the boy was gesturing for all three of them to go.

“Come on,” said Charm.

Limpy looked up at the boy, who was still smiling at them. For a fleeting moment he felt he wouldn't mind being a pet with a human like that. If his life had turned out differently.

“Thanks,” he said to the boy.

He knew the boy couldn't understand him, but he hoped the boy could see the gratitude in his eyes.

“Come on,” said Charm.

The three of them hopped away as fast as they could, Goliath and Charm on either side of Limpy so he wouldn't hop crooked.

Limpy glanced back at the boy, who waved to them and started walking back toward the bus.

The roar was louder than ever.

Limpy looked anxiously toward the plane to make sure it wasn't going to take off and squash them.

What he saw stopped him mid-hop.

It wasn't a plane.

It was a huge torrent of water plummeting down a sheer hillside. The humans were leaning over a fence, taking photos of it. The roar was from the water smashing into the rocks below.

“Stack me!” squeaked Goliath.

“A giant waterfall,” gasped Charm.

But it wasn't the fresh, cool water that made Limpy's glands tremble and his warts tingle. Even though his parched nose could smell that there wasn't enough salt in it to flavor a single chip.

It was what lay beyond. A green and fragrant landscape that seemed to go on forever. Mighty trees and lush undergrowth and shady swamps buzzing with happy swamp life.

Limpy knew what it was.

He'd never been more sure.

It was toad heaven.

T
he national park was everything Limpy had dreamed of.

Big.

Beautiful.

Safe.

Very swampy.

Once the three of them were far enough away from the bus, Limpy really started to enjoy it.

“Look,” he said, hopping between massive tree trunks. “It's shady here all day. Dad's always worried he'll get headaches from the sun if he leaves our swamp. He won't here.”

“And Mum's skin won't dry out,” said Charm, gazing around happily. “She's always saying that away from the swamp she'd need huge supplies of caterpillar-intestine skin moisturizer. Not here.”

“And the food here's really yummy,” said Goliath, slurping a fat slug.

Limpy stopped at the edge of a huge swamp and breathed in the warm moist fragrant air through every pore in his body.

He looked at Charm and Goliath's happy faces.

This is perfect, he thought.

Then he remembered the virus germs that were wriggling around inside him and breathing in the healthy air and getting bigger and stronger by the moment.

Maybe the same with Charm.

Maybe the same with Goliath.

Limpy didn't want to think about that.

“This'll be a great spot for our new place,” he said, pointing up at the canopy of leaves over their heads. “Mum's always wanted higher ceilings.”

“And she loves this shade of green,” said Charm.

“The food here really is great,” said Goliath, gobbling a big grasshopper.

Limpy gazed out across the still water. On the opposite bank of the swamp, under a tangle of creepers that looked perfect for climbing up and swinging off, was something that sent a shiver of excitement down Limpy's spine.

“Look at that mud slide,” he said. “It's almost as
good as the one at home. This really is heaven. Not only is it a place where all living things are safe and protected, but it's got an almost perfect mud slide.”

“Wow,” said Charm. “That's the second best mud slide I've ever seen.”

“And this,” said Goliath, chomping a huge butterfly, “is the best food I've ever tasted.”

Afterward, Limpy was never sure why this particular chomp, out of all of Goliath's chomps and gobbles and slurps, was the one that gave him the horrible thought.

But it did.

Limpy stared at Goliath's jaws and felt cold dread seep through his glands and warts.