Buying Llamas Off the Internet

by Ian Edwards

  ‘I’m afraid so.’ The man affected a solemn look as if he was breaking tragically bad news. ‘Another bad winter and they’re likely to collapse, probably pulling the roof off the house.’

  ‘Oh I see,’ James said. ‘Is that serious then?’

  The man frowned. People who he normally cold called were usually panicking at this point and reaching for their cheque books.

  ‘Very,’ the man said.

  ‘Oh,’ James said.

  ‘Fortunately for you I was in the area today,’ the man said, ‘and we are running a special deal. If you sign up today we can offer you 50% off the normal price of replacing the guttering.’

  ‘What’s the normal price?’ James asked, not unreasonably.

  ‘Twice today’s price,’ the man said helpfully.

  James nodded as if he was giving the man’s proposition careful consideration. ‘You should speak to my wife,’ James told the man. ‘She deals with all this stuff normally. She’s out at the moment, but I’ll give you her mobile number. You should ring her after seven any evening.’

  The man wrote down Amy’s mobile number as James relayed it to him. Checking that he had the right number, James added, ‘don’t forget call her any time after seven. I’ll tell her to expect your call.’

  James watched as the man bounded down the path, clearly thinking he had a potential sale. James almost felt sorry for the man. Amy had a particular way of dealing with sales calls, and experience told him there would only be one winner.

  Wandering back into the kitchen, James caught sight of the large pile of school books sitting on the table, all of which required marking. That can wait until Sunday evening, he thought to himself. Although he remembered that first thing Monday he was giving a talk to the class entitled ‘Why you shouldn’t leave homework until the last minute’ and he planned to spend Sunday evening preparing it. ‘Best get on with it then,’ James said to himself and sat himself down in front of the books.

  James was pleasantly surprised that the first two books were just about acceptable which, judging by the usual standard of homework, was a significant improvement. As he opened the third exercise book the doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock. 9.45am. This must be it, he thought and rushed to the front door.

  ‘Mr Cook?’ The man standing on the other side of the front door asked.

  ‘Yes, that’s me,’ James said excitedly.

  ‘I’m the delivery man,’ the delivery man said, by way of explanation. ‘I have a delivery for you,’ he added, unsurprisingly.

  James, rather uncharitably wondered whether this was unnecessary information, given that the delivery man wore a brown jump suit with the words ‘Dan’s Deliveries’ emblazoned upon it, and parked outside his house was a medium sized lorry with ‘Dan’s Deliveries’ written in large red letters on the sides.

  Before James could point out how unnecessary the introduction was, Dan the Delivery Man went back to his lorry, opened the back and started lowering the platform.

  Lacking the patience to wait for the professional to do his job, James followed him and peered into back of the lorry.

  ‘Sorry Mr Cook,’ Dan said, ‘I’m going to have ask you to step back and wait by your house.’

  ‘Oh?’ James said.

  ‘Health and safety. You haven’t done the course,’ Dan explained.

  Reluctantly, James did as he was told and returned to his front door. He watched as Dan wrestled a large wooden crate, onto a trolley and pushed it up the path, stopping just short of the porch.

  ‘Big one this,’ Dan puffed as he appeared from around the side of the box. ‘What have you ordered?’ he asked, as he passed James a clipboard and a pen.

  ‘Some DVDs,’ James lied. ‘Some…erm…books,’ he lied again whilst signing the docket on the top of the clipboard. ‘And…erm…a llama.’

  Dan paused for a moment then laughed. ‘You nearly had me there mate. Good one.’

  James grinned and passed the clipboard back.

  ‘A llama,’ Dan repeated and laughed again. ‘Funny man,’ he added.

  James looked at the crate sitting on his front path. ‘I don’t suppose you can give me a hand moving it into the garden?’

  ‘It’s too big for the doorway,’ Dan pointed out.

  ‘We can move it in through the back gate. It’ll fit through,’ James said confidently.

  Using the trolley to move the crate, Dan followed James along the path and through the back gate.

  ‘Right, we’ll leave it here,’ James said gesturing at the patio.

  Dan levelled the trolley out and moved it out from under the crate.

  ‘Enjoy your reading,’ Dan said and left James to his crate.

  James thanked Dan for his help and peered into one of a number of holes in the crate. The early morning light shone through the various holes and James could just make out a shape laying on the floor, surrounded by what appeared to be straw.

  James retrieved a hammer from the shed at the end of the garden and began to prise the front from the crate. After much swearing, the front panel eventually came away and he set it down on the lawn. Stepping back he finally got the chance to see his new pet.

  It was a little over four feet tall and covered in what appeared to be coarse cream hair. Two eyes stared at him through a bedraggled fringe, with a black smudge just under his nose. James’ first thought was that he had been sent a giant goat, and after several seconds further inspection he was convinced of it.

  ‘Are you sure that you’re not a goat?’ James asked.

  The Llama stared blankly back at him, blinked a couple of times, got down onto the floor of the crate and went to sleep.

  *

  James sat at the kitchen table and made a list;

  1. The llama needs a name.

  2. The llama needs something to live in, like a hutch.

  3. Collect llama food from pet shop.

  James passed for a moment and added;

  4. Buy Peruvian Music CD to help llama feel at home.

  Reading over the list James put a line through number 1. It was Amy’s pet, so she can name it. Though he liked the name Charlie, helpfully provided by the website. He had to admit that close up, the llama really did look like Charlie Chaplin.

  As far as numbers 2 and 3 are concerned, he could get both of those from the big pet store at the retail park, and as for number 4, well, he’d call into the petrol station and get a pan pipe CD.

  James checked the time. He had a couple of hours before Amy was expected back, plenty of time to get everything done. He folded the list and put it in his pocket. He wandered into the garden to make a quick check on the llama before running his errands. He opened the back door and looked into the crate, where the llama lay sleeping.

  ‘I’m going out now. Are you going to be OK on your own?’ He asked softly.

  Unsurprisingly, the llama didn’t respond, other than to emit a gentle snore.

  ‘Right,’ James said, hitting his forehead with his palm. ‘You speak Peruvian. I might have to get you some English lessons,’ he said. ‘Anyway, I’ll be back as soon as possible.’ He paused a moment before adding, ‘Senor,’ in a particularly bad Spanish accent.

  *

  James drove into the retail park. The Pet Superstore was at the furthest point from the entrance and was easily identified by a giant inflatable dog which stood over the entrance.

  Taking a trolley from a long line of trolleys snaking round the car park, James walked into the store and looked up at the store guide; cats, dogs, budgies, hamsters, rabbits, guinea pigs and even chinchillas (whatever they were) but no llama aisle.

  He pushed his trolley over to the Customer Services Desk which was manned by a harassed looking young girl whose name badge told him her name was Debbie and that she was here to help.

  ‘I’m sorry, but we don’t sell alligators,’ she explained patiently to the two youths standing in front of her.

  The youths grumbled that this was a ‘stupid shop
’ and stormed off leaving James next in line.

  ‘Can I help you?’ Debbie asked, ensuring that she did indeed do what it said on her name badge.

  ‘I’m looking for the llama aisle,’ James told her.

  ‘Sorry sir?’ Debbie said, puzzled.

  ‘The llama aisle,’ James paused. ‘The aisle where you keep all the llama accessories. Tins of food, toys. Oh and a hutch.’

  ‘A hutch.’ Debbie repeated in disbelief.

  ‘Yes,’ James confirmed. ‘Do you do a two room hutch? One to sleep and one where can do his toilet…like an ensuite?’

  ‘Sir, do you actually have a llama?’ Debbie asked, while placing her left hand very close to the panic alarm.

  ‘Of course I do. It’s a present for my wife. I just need to have him all set up before she gets home this afternoon,’ James explained as if he was making enquiries about buying a new television.

  ‘Are you sure that you actually have a llama?’ Debbie asked again. ‘Only they are very distinct animals with specific needs. Maybe you have a goat or a large dog.’

  James sighed. He had no idea it was going to be this difficult.

  ‘I know I’ve got a llama, I ordered one off the internet and it turned up this morning. It’s a llama, not a dog or a goat.’

  ‘OK then…’ Debbie said, accepting James’s word that he did indeed have a llama. Or at the very least believed that he had bought one. ‘You should try it on grass, hay and grain. We have bags of hay here, but I would suggest that you contact a farm supplier and buy in bulk.’

  ‘Oh. OK,’ James said. ‘But I’ll also need a hutch.’

  ‘Llamas don’t actually sleep or live in a hutch,’ Debbie said patiently.

  ‘Are you sure?’ James asked, surprised. ‘Should I keep him in the house then?’

  ‘Sir,’ Debbie said, her tone becoming weary, ‘a llama, your llama, should be living in an enclosure, not a hutch or a kennel. And certainly not in your house.’

  James nodded. ‘OK, I’ll take an enclosure then, please.’

  ‘We don’t sell enclosures,’ Debbie sighed. James noted that she had now dropped the ‘sir.’ ’You should really try a farm shop. How much of your land are you planning to give over to the llama enclosure?’

  James hesitated. He figured that the corner of the patio and in the corner of the living room weren’t the answers that Debbie was expecting to hear.

  ‘About half of it,’ he said, ‘yes, about fifty per cent,’ he added.

  ‘OK, but what does that measure?’

  ‘Oh I see,’ James paused, grinning, before adding, ‘about average.’

  ‘Average..?’ Debbie repeated. ‘An acre?’ she asked, pressing or an answer.

  ‘Half an acre,’ James said, not really knowing how big half an acre was.

  ‘With that kind of area, you’re best getting advice from a specialist suppler of enclosures,’ Debbie said.

  ‘Oh, OK. It may be slightly less,’ James said backtracking.

  ‘In any event I think you should speak to the specialists.’

  James shrugged. ‘I’ll just take the hay then…unless you sell Peruvian music CDs?’

  *

  Twenty minutes later, James drove out of the pet store car park. He had loaded several bales of hay and straw into the back of the SUV, and Debbie had provided him with the address of the ‘Green Fields Farm Fencing Company’ whom she had said would be able to provide him with exactly what he needed.

  *

  ‘What do you mean you can’t get anyone out to measure up until next week?’ James said in disbelief to the receptionist at the ‘Green Fields Farm Fencing Company.’

  ‘Everyone’s busy on other jobs at the moment,’ the receptionist said. ‘No one is free to come over to see you, measure up and go over all your options until Wednesday at the earliest.’

  James reluctantly left his details with the woman and returned to his car. He could feel his carefully thought out plans slowly falling apart. He looked at his watch. He had three hours until Amy was expected home.

  ‘I suppose I could do up the crate, put a lick of paint on it, put a few stickers on it,’ James said out loud, trying to convince himself that he hadn’t made a very large, hairy mistake.

  He started the engine and pulled out of the car park. He had one more thing on his list, the CD of Peruvian pipe music, and headed in the direction of the petrol station.

  *

  James looked over the CD display on the counter. ‘Is this all you have?’ he asked.

  The man behind the counter shrugged. ‘Mostly. What are you looking for? A make-up gift for the missus?’

  ‘Something with Peruvian pan pipes,’ James said, ignoring the man’s sarcasm.

  The man reached under the counter and produced a stack of CDs. ‘I’ve got some here that we found by a busker’s chair. Can’t sell ‘em, though. They’re rubbish.’ He handed a small box to James, who rummaged through the cases, whispering the titles as he flicked through them. ‘Timeless hits from Andes; 100 Pan Pipe one hit wonders; Shopping Centre Ballads; Piping Hot Classics…Christ,’ he paused.

  ‘Are you interested?’

  James handed over his debit card. ‘I’ll take the lot,’ he said.

  After paying for the CDs, James got back into his car and slowly made his way to the petrol station exit. As he waited for a gap in the traffic, he looked across the road and he caught sight of the large Toy Super Store. It gave him an idea.

  *

  James stood by his car as two employees of the Toy Super Store pushed a trolley laden with flat pack boxes across the car park.

  ‘If you can load them into the back of the car that’ll be great, thanks,’ he told them.

  ‘Nice car,’ said one, as he watched his colleague slide the first box into the back of the SUV. ‘You don’t often see a pink one.’

  ‘It’s cerise,’ James said defensively.

  ‘Cerise? Like the car in Thunderbirds?’

  ‘If you like,’ James said, deciding that they weren’t getting a tip.

  James shut the tailgate thanking them for their help.

  ‘No problem. Hope your daughter likes it.’

  James climbed back into the car. It was a small lie, but he figured saying that the Enchanted Castle Playhouse was for his daughter was far more acceptable than saying it was for his llama.

  Laughing to himself, James pulled away from the Toy Super Store and headed home.

  *

  Once home, James unloaded the bales of hay and the flat packed enchanted castle. Stacking them in the kitchen, he opened the doors to the garden and froze…The front was off the crate and laying to one side. The llama was standing alongside the crate in front of a large patch of bare lawn.

  ‘Ah,’ James said, ‘what have you done?’

  Stepping onto the patio, James weighed up his options. Amy would clearly notice the missing grass, but the bare patch was roughly the same size as the surface area of the enchanted castle. If he built it over the bare patch, Amy would never notice.

  James looked at the llama who stared back at him, chewing.

  It took James thirty minutes to construct the castle. As with all flat packs, the course of construction did not run smoothly, and James had to rely on the power of swearing and hitting it with a hammer until he finally achieved his goal and the castle finally almost looked like it did when it was in the toy store.

  It was basically an elaborate Wendy House. A small scale castle made of thick durable plastic. The surface area covered six square feet, comfortably covering the newly formed bare patch on the lawn. The four walls measured four feet high, and to enforce that castle appearance, it had battlements running along the top. Towers with turrets marked out the front two corners, which added a further foot to the height. The roof fit snugly on top, covering half the castle, and James deposited bales of hay on the floor. He opened the drawbridge at the front and guided the llama into his new home.

  ‘OK. Just you wait here,�
�� he said, ‘mummy will be home soon.’

  *

  Amy knew that something wasn’t quite right as soon as she opened the front door. Nothing was out of place, but she had the feeling that something was…different.

  She walked through the hall and into the kitchen. James was sitting at the table, laptop open in front of him, a bunch of flowers stood in a vase on the table. The blinds were down and the light was on. He looked up and smiled at her, ‘Hiya, Ames.’

  ‘What are you up to?’ she asked. Straight to the point.

  ‘Hiya Ames,’ James repeated. ‘How are you? How was the gym?’

  ‘It was fine,’ she said suspiciously. ‘What are you up to? Why are the blinds down?’ She paused. ‘Have you bought flowers?’

  James smiled. ‘I’m not up to anything, and yes, I have bought flowers. Do you like them? I thought they’d brighten the place up.’

  Amy dumped her bags on the table and moved towards the blinds.

  ‘It’s lovely outside. Why are the blinds down?’

  ‘Don’t touch them!’ James cried out. ‘At least not yet.’

  ‘OK. Tell me what’s going on’ she demanded.

  James cleared his throat. ‘Take a seat,’ he said, gesturing at the chair opposite him at the table.

  Amy pulled the chair back its legs scraping on the floor. Sitting down she asked, ‘So what’s going on?’

  ‘Well,’ James began, ‘you’ve…’

  ‘Hang on,’ Amy interrupted, ‘what’s that noise?’

  ‘What noise?’

  ‘That flute music. It is music isn’t it? It’s not you having an asthma attack?’

  James laughed and adjusted the volume on his laptop, the sound of pan pipes filled the room.

  Amy stared at him. ‘James, I suggest you make your explanation sensationally good.’

  ‘Well, you know how you’ve been a bit stressed lately…’ James continued, not giving her a chance to interrupt. ‘I was thinking about doing something to cheer you up, and I remembered that you when you came back from the zoo you were saying how much you really liked the llamas.’

  Amy stared across the table saying nothing.

  James continued. ‘So I thought what would really cheer you up?’

  ‘What have you done?’ Amy frowned. ‘You haven’t written another song have you?’