‘We’ve come to say sorry,’ said Mum quietly. ‘We were too hard on you earlier. It did hurt, when you called us selfish, but the way we reacted to it was, well, a bit selfish.’
Dad put his hand on Limpy’s shoulder.
‘That comment I made about the way we brought you up,’ said Dad. ‘That wasn’t a fair thing to say. You’ve turned out exactly as we hoped. Only better.’
‘Thanks,’ said Limpy to both of them.
‘When that flood swept away all our other little tadpoles,’ said Dad, ‘me and Mum thought we were the unluckiest parents in the swamp. But the flood left us with you and Charm, and now we reckon that makes us the luckiest.’
Limpy’s throat sac was so wobbly he couldn’t speak.
‘We’re proud of you, Limpy,’ said Mum. ‘The way you’re always trying to protect us cane toads. But love, we are what we are, and we’ve always been that way. Yes, we probably do eat a bit too much, but every time you and Charm and Goliath hop off for the day, I can’t be certain I’m ever going to see you again. Not if humans see you first. So I make every meal as big and special as I can, in case it’s the last.’
Limpy stared at Mum’s concerned loving face.
He put his arms round her.
‘I’ve never thought of it that way,’ he whispered.
‘Even if we did go on a diet,’ said Dad, ‘that’s only five of us. Four really, because if Goliath doesn’t have a lot of food, he faints. There are huge mobs of cane toads just in this swamp, so what difference would four really make?’
Limpy looked at Dad’s earnest loving face.
You’ve got to start somewhere, that’s what Limpy had always told himself.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
‘What I’m about to say,’ said Mum, ‘is hard to hear, I know that. But love, maybe you have to accept something. Maybe you have to accept that the world is too big and complicated and full of problems for one individual to make a difference.’
‘Even a top bloke like you,’ said Dad.
Limpy didn’t know what to say.
Perhaps they were right.
He let them both kiss him and give him a hug and tell him that dinner would be ready as soon as they could round up some more insects to replace the ones Goliath had eaten.
After Mum and Dad left, Limpy sat on his bed.
The familiar smell of the dried swampweed always made him feel safe and cosy. Suddenly he wanted to curl up under his moth-wing blanket and never worry about humans again. Never even think about ways to show them that cane toads had a better side.
He lay down and closed his eyes.
But he could still see the stacks of poor dead sun-dried rellies.
And the tighter he squeezed his eyes shut, the more clearly he could imagine Mum and Dad and Charm and Goliath stacked up with them.
As the car sped towards Limpy, he waved at it hopefully.
And a bit fearfully.
After all, it was a car and he was a cane toad and this was the highway.
The car hurtled closer.
Limpy closed his eyes. Then opened them again and told himself to stop being a jelly-wart. He waved even harder, hoping desperately the car would swerve across the highway towards him.
Not for the reason cars usually swerved towards cane toads. Limpy didn’t want it to drive over him and leave him squashed and stackable.
He wanted the car to pause at his roadside stall so the humans could enjoy some of the snacks and cool drinks he’d prepared for them.
The car didn’t swerve or pause.
It hurtled past.
Limpy sighed.
Yet another lot of humans who had no idea how kind and generous cane toads could be.
This wasn’t going well. The sun was hot. The grass verge was dry. Every time a vehicle sped past, Limpy got more covered in dust.
‘I’ll tell you what you need,’ said a voice.
Limpy peered around.
A familiar-looking goanna was perched on a branch, nodding at him thoughtfully.
‘You need an ad in the local paper,’ said the goanna. ‘Catering and refreshments section, to let people know what services you’re offering. Just tossing it in for what it’s worth.’
Limpy was tempted to tell the goanna to mind its own business, but he didn’t. He was trying to stay in a kind and generous mood for when the next car came along.
‘Mind your own business,’ snapped another voice.
Charm hopped out of the undergrowth, glaring at the goanna.
‘Suit yourself,’ said the goanna, slithering down the tree and waddling off, muttering.
Charm gave Limpy a weary look.
‘Local paper, stack me,’ she said. ‘How in this day and age can a goanna not know about social media?’
Limpy nodded.
He knew how important social media was to humans. You could tell by the way they gawked at it on their phones while they walked into mud holes.
Limpy was hoping human visitors would put his roadside stall onto social media. So other humans would look at it. Instead of at the not very nice phone movie the angry human female had made of Goliath being selfish about Penny in the grotto.
‘What are you doing, Limpy?’ said Charm, frowning at the roadside stall, which Limpy had to admit was more of a rock.
Limpy explained about the urgent need to show humans that cane toads weren’t mean nasty greedy selfish monsters.
‘Cool drinks,’ he said, pointing to the car hubcap he’d borrowed from Dad’s collection. ‘I found this left-over hail in a mud hole. As the ice melts, it makes a lovely cool slushy.’
Charm didn’t look that impressed.
Limpy saw that the ice had all melted, and in the hot sun the drink didn’t look that cool any more, just a bit muddy.
‘Snacks,’ he said, pointing to the little piles of deliciousness sitting on the swamp leaves arranged attractively around the hubcap. ‘I’ve changed some of Mum’s recipes to suit human tastes. See, stuffed wood lice, but I’ve taken the legs off because they can get stuck between your teeth. Swamp Maggot Delight, but without the pond-scum sauce. Sun-dried stink bug nibbles, the low-fat ones.’
Charm sighed.
‘Do you think I’ve made the serves too big?’ said Limpy. ‘I was trying to find a balance between feeding hungry humans and showing them we understand about sensible portion sizes.’
‘You never give up, do you, Limpy,’ said Charm softly.
Limpy looked at her, puzzled.
He wasn’t sure why she’d said that. Of course he didn’t give up. When he was very little and the truck had squashed part of his leg, he could have given up then and spent the rest of his life hopping round in circles. But he didn’t. He exercised and practised and now he could hop in a completely straight line. Most of the time.
‘You’ve been out here for ages,’ said Charm. ‘How many cars have stopped?’
Limpy felt an urgent need to tidy the stuffed wood lice.
‘Not many,’ he mumbled. ‘Well, a bit less than that really. None.’
Charm didn’t seem surprised.
Limpy decided to ask for her help. She was smart and determined and had great ideas. He was sure she’d be able to think of a way to get cars to stop.
‘Charm,’ he said. ‘Can you help me?’
She sighed and put her head against his chest and hugged him tight.
Limpy felt even more hopeful than when the last car had been hurtling towards him.
But Charm took a step back and looked up at him with a fierce expression.
‘I love you, Limpy,’ she said. ‘So I’ll always be honest with you. This roadside stall plan hasn’t got a hope. You’ll get sunstroke for starters, and if a vehicle hits you, you’ll get multiple fractures and multiple leakages with your insides spurting out.’
Limpy didn’t know what to say. Charm was usually a bit more supportive than this.
‘So you won’t help me?’ he said.
Charm shook h
er head sadly.
‘You know I’ve always helped you in every way I can,’ she said. ‘But this time, Limpy, only a complete idiot would help you.’
Before Limpy had time to tell her how that made him feel, which was a little bit hurt, there was an explosion of creeper-snapping and cursing in the nearby undergrowth.
Goliath appeared.
‘There you are,’ he said to Limpy grumpily. ‘You can be a really hard bloke to find sometimes. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’
‘Why?’ said Limpy.
He’d been feeling guilty all day about leaving poor heart-broken Goliath alone with his grief.
‘Why do you think?’ said Goliath, even more grumpily. ‘I’ve come to help.’
‘This helping caper isn’t my idea,’ said Goliath, after Charm had given them both long-suffering looks and had gone.
‘Whose idea is it?’ said Limpy.
‘Ancient Abigail’s,’ said Goliath. ‘I asked her if she had any cures for heart-ache and she told me about something that worked for her. But then she said that eating lizard burgers would give me a tummy-ache, so she told me to try something else.’
Goliath burped.
Limpy saw he’d already gobbled three of the snacks.
‘Ancient Abigail told you to come here and eat everything on my roadside stall?’ said Limpy.
Goliath shook his head.
‘I’m just a bit peckish,’ he said. ‘Ancient Abigail came up with something almost as good, though. She reckons a sure-fire way to forget your own woes is to help others in desperate need.’
Limpy thought about this.
It did sound quite wise.
‘Sorry,’ he said to Goliath. ‘I was a bit ungrateful just then. Actually I could do with some help. I am in a bit of desperate need.’
‘Too right you are,’ said Goliath, sitting down. ‘You’re in desperate need for somebody to tell you that this whole roadside stall idea is dopey and stupid, so here I am.’
Goliath popped another two snacks into his mouth.
Limpy stared at him indignantly.
It was bad enough Charm being so hurtful, without Goliath and Ancient Abigail joining in.
‘Righty-o,’ said Goliath. ‘My work here is done. Gee, helping others really gives you an appetite. Have you got any more of these snacks?’
He reached for the last three.
‘Hang on,’ said Limpy, pushing Goliath’s big fist away. ‘How can you say this idea’s dopey when you haven’t even seen if it’s working or not?’
With difficulty, Goliath tore his eyes away from the snacks and had a think.
‘You’ve been here most of the day, right?’ he said to Limpy. ‘How many cars have stopped?’
Limpy decided he didn’t want to get into that conversation again.
‘If you’re really here to lend a hand,’ he said to Goliath, ‘help me give it one more go. Help me attract the attention of the next humans to drive past. And if they ignore us, I’ll shut the stall down.’
‘And I can finish off the snacks?’ said Goliath.
Limpy nodded.
‘Deal,’ said Goliath.
There were no sounds of any approaching vehicles, so Limpy decided to take the weight off his warts for a few moments. He sat down next to Goliath.
As he did, Goliath stood up.
‘Don’t you think you’d better be on your feet for this lot?’ he said.
Limpy peered in the direction Goliath was pointing.
And jumped up.
It was one of the most amazing things he’d ever seen, including lumps of ice raining down in the tropics.
Whizzing towards them along the highway, almost silent except for a faint hiss, was a swarm of giant insects. The ones with their brains on the outside of their heads. The sun was glinting off their shiny multi-coloured bodies and also off their brains.
‘Stack me,’ breathed Limpy.
Were these the giant relatives of all the insects he and Goliath and the others had ever eaten? Come for terrible revenge?
Limpy was trembling so much he could hardly speak.
‘Quick,’ he croaked to Goliath. ‘Hop for it.’
Goliath hopped for it.
But not, Limpy was horrified to see, away from the advancing giant insects. Towards them.
Limpy went after Goliath to drag him back to safety and to his senses.
Too late.
Goliath was jumping up and down on the edge of the highway, waving his arms and yelling at the giant insects.
‘Over here,’ he was shouting. ‘Free refreshments. The snacks are all reserved, but lovely cool drinks, free of charge.’
The giant insects were very close now.
Limpy made one last desperate attempt to drag Goliath into the undergrowth.
It was no good.
Then Limpy stopped and stared.
The advancing horde weren’t insects after all.
They were humans. Humans whose bodies were covered in very tight brightly coloured clothes. Humans who were sitting on thin two-wheeled vehicles, legs moving in a blur.
Limpy recognised the faintly hissing vehicles from tales that older cane toads sometimes told to youngsters. Warning them to keep their hearing alert by not storing snacks in their ears.
Bikes, they were called.
Silent death, the old folk called them.
Just as the old folk had described, the faces of the bike humans were rigid and grim, staring at the highway ahead, not seeing anything around them, including Goliath and Limpy.
‘Over here, poo brains,’ Goliath was yelling at them. ‘Cane toads here who want to show you how kind and generous and friendly we can be. Get your fat bums over here.’
As the first few bike humans whizzed past, they didn’t even give Goliath a glance.
Limpy stared at them, disappointed but not surprised.
Balancing on wheels that thin, he thought to himself, must take all your concentration not to fall off, specially with the sun beating down on your naked brains like that.
‘You selfish mongrels,’ Goliath was yelling. ‘You’re breaking the heart of a kind sensitive cane toad who wishes you nothing but goodwill, you big lumps of poo. And my cousin feels the same.’
Limpy tried to tell Goliath that it didn’t matter, these probably weren’t the best humans to be making friends with. But Goliath grabbed a hefty stick lying by the side of the highway.
‘Don’t worry, Limpy,’ he said. ‘I’ll slow the mongrels down.’
He hurled himself at the last of the bikes as it sped past, and jammed the stick into its back wheel.
And disappeared.
Limpy gasped.
For a moment he thought Goliath had been chewed up by the bike vehicle and spat out in lumps and warts. But then he realised the big spinning blur he could see was Goliath hanging on to the stick wedged in the back wheel.
‘Goliath,’ he yelled. ‘Let go.’
As the bike sped away down the highway, Limpy hopped after it, hoping desperately that Goliath was better at letting go now than he had been with Penny.
His hopes were rewarded.
In the distance two objects flew off the rear wheel of the last bike. Both spun through the air. One was thinner, and Limpy guessed that was the stick. The other was more muscly, and wailing, and Limpy was fairly certain that was Goliath.
Limpy took a while to reach where Goliath landed. It wasn’t so much the hopping round in circles problem, it was more the breathing problem he had as he got closer and saw that Goliath wasn’t moving.
Goliath finally moved.
Just his mouth.
‘Penny,’ he croaked, his eyes closed.
Limpy felt weak with relief. And concern.
Goliath was alive but he didn’t look too good. He’d landed on a flat dusty patch of dirt near the highway. Not much dust, very hard dirt.
‘Goliath,’ said Limpy, gently touching Goliath’s arm. ‘Apart from your heart, does anything else fe
el broken?’
Goliath just groaned, eyes still closed.
Limpy wished he knew more about first aid. The limit of his medical experience was putting aphid ointment on sore warts and helping clear a blocked gullet the time Goliath swallowed a live snake that turned stubborn.
‘Doesn’t look good,’ said a voice.
A group of ants were standing nearby, looking at Goliath and shaking their heads.
‘His dribble’s gone frothy,’ said one. ‘That’s never a good sign.’
Frothy dribble was leaking out of the corners of Goliath’s mouth and dripping off his chin.
Limpy tried to stay calm.
He hoped the ant didn’t know much about first aid either and was wrong about frothy dribble being a bad sign. He hoped frothy dribble was just something everyone got when they were spun round very fast on a bike wheel.
Limpy grabbed a leaf and started to wipe the dribble off Goliath’s chin. It wasn’t exactly first aid, and he wasn’t sure if it was helping, but it was all he could think of.
Goliath groaned again, less painfully this time.
‘Penny,’ he croaked.
He raised one hand, which Limpy hoped was a good sign.
Then he grabbed Limpy’s shoulder, which Limpy also hoped was a good sign. But when Goliath clutched at Limpy’s other shoulder, and then his chest, Limpy started to have doubts.
‘Zip,’ mumbled Goliath. ‘Where’s the zip?’
He opened his eyes and sat up, staring at Limpy in dazed surprise.
‘Limpy,’ he said. ‘I thought you were Penny. I’m hungry. I couldn’t find your zip.’
Limpy sagged with relief. If Goliath still had his appetite, he couldn’t be too damaged.
‘Yum,’ exclaimed a voice.
Limpy looked down.
One of the ants was on Goliath’s chest, eating some of the frothy dribble.
‘This is delicious,’ the ant yelled to his friends.
Other ants raced up onto Goliath’s chest and soon they were gobbling the frothy dribble too, and agreeing loudly how delicious it was.
‘Brush them off,’ said Limpy to Goliath. ‘They might bite.’
Goliath just sat there, looking at the ants. Limpy started to worry that Goliath might have landed on his head.
All around, ants were rushing out of holes in the ground and hurling themselves onto every puddle and globule of Goliath’s dribble they could find.
Toad Delight Page 3
