Toad Heaven (13 page)

Charm must have seen the expression on his face, because she grabbed his arm.

“Limpy,” she said. “What's the matter?”

Limpy could hardly get it out, but he knew he had to.

“If this national park is a place where all living things are safe and protected, that must mean slugs and grasshoppers and butterflies are safe and protected too. And ants.”

He pointed to the ant on the tip of Goliath's tongue.

“Yeah, that's reasonable,” said Goliath, swallowing.“What's your point?”

Limpy felt Charm's grip tighten on his arm, and he knew she'd got his point.

His awful, terrible, tragic point.

“My point,” said Limpy quietly, “is that if all living things here are protected, what are we going to eat?”

The blood drained from Goliath's warts.

He stared at Limpy, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of an answer.

“That's dopey,” he said after a bit. “Food can't be protected.”

“Yes it can,” said Limpy sadly. “All living things means all living things.”

“Goliath,” said Charm. “Imagine if you were food. You'd want to be protected here, wouldn't you?”

“But I'm not food,” said Goliath. “Nothing can eat us. One taste of our poison pus and they've got terminal bellyache.”

Limpy looked at Goliath unhappily and waited for the horrible truth to sink in.

Eventually it did.

“This is ridiculous!” shouted Goliath. “If we're not allowed to eat any living thing, how are we going to survive here?”

“Exactly,” said Limpy.

“Exactly,” said a voice from inside a nearby clump of undergrowth.

They all looked over, startled, as a large lizard emerged.

“Your slightly damaged friend is right,” said the lizard to Goliath. “You can't live here.”

“He's my cousin,” said Goliath hotly. “And he's not damaged, that's a war wound. And if we can't live here, what are you doing here? You blokes are always stuffing yourselves with insects.”

Good point, thought Limpy. Goliath can be a real surprise sometimes. His brain must work better when he's angry.

The lizard moistened his lips with his blue tongue.

“Ah,” he said. “It's slightly different for me. I'm food, you see. Food is allowed to eat food. All sorts of big creatures have got me on their menu. I eat little things, big things eat me. That's fair. But you eat little things and nothing eats you. That's not fair.”

Goliath stared at the lizard, gobsmacked.

“Actually,” said Limpy, “we might be food. I've heard rumors of crows out west who've learned to flip us over and eat the soft juicy bits on the insides of our legs and tummies.”

Goliath crossed his legs and looked pale.

“Sorry,” said Limpy to Goliath and Charm.

“That's okay,” said Charm. “I've heard that too.”

“Rumors,” said the lizard sourly. “I'm talking about
rules, not rumors. The fact is, you're not food, so you can't live here.”

Goliath glared at the lizard.

“What if we come back here with millions of our mates?” he asked. “Who's gunna stop us living here then?”

Limpy watched anxiously. He saw Charm was too.

When Goliath got worked up, things could get ugly.

The lizard thought calmly about this.

“If there were enough of you, we probably couldn't stop you,” he said. “Nor could the national park rangers. But it wouldn't be much of a toad heaven, would it? A place where all the other inhabitants hated you and an army of rangers was trying to kill you.”

“Might be,” said Goliath hotly.

“No,” said Limpy sadly. “It wouldn't.”

Goliath turned angrily to Limpy.

“Don't agree with this crawler,” he said. “What are you saying?”

“I'm saying,” said Limpy, “that if we want to live here, we're going to have to change our diet.”

“T
his mud,” said Goliath, “tastes yucky.”

Limpy sighed.

Goliath was right.

Even when you made it into mouse and cockroach shapes and added grass stems as whiskers, it still tasted like … mud.

“Spit it out, then,” said Limpy.

“No,” said Goliath indignantly. “I'm not gunna waste it.”

He swallowed it with a grimace.

“I don't think this is going to work,” said Charm. “I know I haven't got much appetite, but I don't think I'm ever going to be able to swallow these twigs.”

She took a wad of wet twigs from her mouth and showed Limpy.

He saw what she meant. She'd been sucking them for ages and they still hadn't gone soft.

Oh dear, thought Limpy. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.

“I'm sick of this,” said Goliath. “We've been squatting by this dumb swamp all morning trying to change our diet, and it's not working. Those pebbles I swallowed still haven't come out, and they're hurting my tummy.”

Limpy nodded sympathetically.

The dead leech he'd eaten hadn't agreed with him either. Every time he burped he could still taste the mold.

“We've got to think harder,” said Limpy. “There must be other things we can try that aren't living.”

He saw Goliath's tongue dart out.

“Goliath,” said Limpy wearily. “Please don't eat ants.”

“I need something to take away the taste of the mud,” protested Goliath.

Charm hopped to her feet.

“How about the things Goliath was eating in the rucksacks?” she said. “Socks and deodorant sticks and hat flakes. We could try living on human stuff.”

“Good thought,” said Goliath.

“It is,” said Limpy. “But humans aren't allowed to feed animals in national parks, and I just don't think they're going to accidentally drop enough socks to keep us alive.”

“I've got it!” yelled Goliath. “I'll break into their buses while they're taking photos of the waterfall and nick stuff. Skin cream, toothpaste, hairbrushes…”

Limpy shook his head.

“All right,” said Goliath. “I'll scrape dead insects off the fronts of the buses. That's not stealing, that's cleaning.”

“Another good thought,” said Limpy. “But we came here to get away from humans, not have you risk your neck getting too close to them.”

“I don't mind,” said Goliath. “Honest.”

“I don't either,” said Charm.

Limpy looked at them both and his eyes pricked with love for them.

“I know you don't,” he said quietly. “I don't either. But we don't want Mum and Dad and the others risking their necks with buses, do we? Because, well, we might not be around for … you know … forever.”

Limpy looked at Charm and Goliath. He could tell from their glum faces that they knew what he meant.

“I haven't got any more ideas,” said Charm.

“Nor have I,” said Goliath.

“Okay,” said Limpy. “There's only one thing left. I'll have to try and persuade the folks here to let Mum and Dad and the others eat live insects.”

“How are you going to do that?” asked Charm.

Limpy took a deep breath.

“Call a meeting,” he said.

The national park residents’ committee sat in a row along the top of an important-looking rock.

Limpy sat smiling up at them, trying to look like a good neighbor.

He glanced at Charm, who was sitting next to him, trying to look like a good neighbor too.

He glanced at Goliath, who was sitting on the other side of him with a mouthful of ants.

“Goliath!” hissed Limpy furiously. “Stop it!”

Goliath looked blankly at Limpy; then his face fell.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I forgot.”

The blue-tongue lizard took his place at the center of the rock.

“As chairman of the residents’ committee,” he said, “I declare this meeting open. We're here to consider a residency application from these three cane toads and a horde of others.”

“They're not a horde,” said Limpy. “They're rellies.”

“And they're really kind,” said Charm.

“And funny,” said Goliath. “Uncle Laurie can blow mucus bubbles that look like frog intestines.”

Limpy glared at him.

“Sorry,” whispered Goliath.

The committee were muttering too, among
themselves. They turned back to face Limpy and Charm and Goliath.

“I vote no,” said the possum.

“I vote no,” said the echidna.

“I vote no,” said the bat.

“I vote no,” said the python.

“I vote no,” said the brush turkey.

“I vote no,” said the spider.

“I vote no,” said the dragonfly.

“And I vote no,” said the blue-tongue lizard.

Limpy stared at them, stunned.

“You can't,” he croaked. “You haven't heard me speak yet.”

“We don't need to,” said the lizard.“We've decided.”

“Please,” said Limpy, “listen to me. I know cane toads have a reputation for being greedy and selfish and eating everything that moves. And it's true, we have been like that. But we can change. And we can be fair. We'll make ourselves available as food. If you let us live here with you, I promise we'll keep our poison sacs empty so we can be eaten too.”

Limpy felt Charm frantically digging him in the ribs.

He knew Charm and Goliath wouldn't like hearing this, but he hoped they'd understand when they thought about it.

“None of us wants to die,” said Limpy to the committee.
“But eating and being eaten is a million times better than being hunted down and squashed under the wheels of a truck. At least being eaten earns the right for other loved ones to eat. Being squashed is just a waste. I know. I've got flat rellies stacked up to my bedroom ceiling.”

Limpy paused.

Suddenly the memory of all those poor dead uncles and aunts and cousins was making his eyes fill with tears. Especially the thought of Mum and Dad joining them.

He peered through his mucus at the committee, who had gone all blurry.

Were they listening?

Was that the brush turkey dabbing her eyes?

Limpy's heart skipped a beat.

They are listening, he thought.

Charm was still jabbing him in the ribs.

“Limpy,” she hissed.

He ignored her. This was too important.

“Please,” he said to the committee, wiping his eyes. “We can change if you just give us a chance.”

He looked up and saw that the committee were on their feet and crowding over to one end of the rock.

Limpy didn't understand. Why were they doing this? Was this some sort of voting process?

Then he saw why.

Goliath was standing at the other end of the rock.

He had a dreamy expression on his face and a dragonfly wing poking out of his mouth.

“Goliath!” screamed Limpy. “No!”

Goliath looked toward Limpy, puzzled. Then his face collapsed into anguish.

“Sorry, Limpy,” he said. “I forgot again.”

T
he committee, grim-faced, escorted them to the park gate.

“I don't suppose Goliath saying he's sorry for eating a committee member would make any difference,” said Charm.

The lizard shook his head.

“It's not fair,” said Goliath. “I'm the one you should be keeping out, not all the others. If I promise never to come back, will you let the others in?”

The lizard shook his head.

Limpy steered Charm and Goliath away from the committee.

“Let's go,” he said sadly. “I was wrong. This isn't the place for us.”

Charm and Goliath stared at him, and Limpy could see they didn't understand why he was giving up.

He pointed up at the gate, to the horrible sight he'd just spotted.

Hanging off the wire mesh were the flat bodies of several cane toads.

Charm gave a sob.

Goliath's shoulders slumped.

“The rangers have got four-wheel drives,” said the lizard. “And they're really good at aiming them. Just in case you're thinking of sneaking back in.”

“No,” said Limpy. “We aren't.”

“Mongrels,” muttered Goliath.

Limpy led Goliath and Charm away from the gate and away from the park.

He didn't look back.

He didn't want to catch a glimpse of the shady trees or the fragrant swamp or the almost perfect mud slide or the lovely high leafy ceilings that Mum and Dad would have loved so much.

It was too painful now.

Limpy made himself stop thinking about it.

“Come on,” he said to Charm and Goliath. “Let's get off this road before a vehicle comes and we end up on the gate.”