by Faiz Kermani
The Toad Who Loved Tea
Faiz Kermani
Copyright © 2018 Faiz Kermani
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events
and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination
or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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For my family
Aren’t you full of curiosity
To meet the toad who loves tea?
It’s remarkable, don’t you think
That she can advise you on what to drink?
I’ve heard she has impeccable taste
And lets nothing go to waste
They say that when she inhales the tea vapour
She can immediately tell you the flavour
So let us visit our amphibian friend
And see what she can recommend
For whatever teas we may choose
She is sure to give us her views
I hear that she happens to reside
Deep in the English countryside
So let us be on our way
And hear what she has to say!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
About the Author…
By the same author
Chapter 1
For most toads, one of the most enjoyable ways to pass the day is to find a nice wet stone by the river, sit on it and then do absolutely nothing. All they have to do is remain motionless, and at some point, an insect will fly by… only to become a tasty snack!
Tungtang was unlike other toads. Much to the irritation of those around her, she hated to stay still. While other toads were content to stare blankly into the sky, waiting for food, she would go strolling and explore the riverbank. On her return to the toad community of Muddy River, she would tell anyone who would care to listen about her little trips of discovery. One evening, she was busy showing off to a group of young toads about her visit to the rotten tree stump near the bridge when her story was interrupted by laughter. She frowned, paused for a moment and then continued her tale.
“As I was saying, it took me an hour to hop up the tree stump and crawl to the top. Swarms of giant flies blocked my way, but I pushed on bravely. As I looked over the edge of the log, I saw a—”
Again, she heard loud laughter. “What a dull story!” cried an unfamiliar voice.
Tungtang peered into the darkness in front of her but soon realised that she was looking in the wrong direction. The leaves of the tree above her rustled and an acorn dropped onto her head. Tungtang looked up and saw a large black crow sitting on a branch.
“Boring, boring!” shouted the crow.
“Come down here and say that!” yelled Tungtang furiously.
“No – you come up here!” replied the crow, launching another acorn at Tungtang.
The crow’s aim was perfect. The acorn hit the defenceless Tungtang on the head again and knocked her over. The young toads started to giggle.
“Do you want me to hit that big, fat, ugly head of yours with another acorn?” sniggered the crow. “Or will you stop boring us with your tiresome story?”
Tungtang lost her temper. “I am the most travelled toad on the riverbank. My adventures are famous!”
“You call that story an adventure? Why – I can reach the rotten tree stump in two minutes! And there’s nothing inside that log, anyway.”
The young toads muttered amongst themselves and started to drift off.
“He’s lying!” shouted Tungtang desperately to her disappearing listeners.
Another acorn bounced off Tungtang’s head.
“I guess they have better things to do with their time,” sniggered the crow.
“Well, if you’re so amazing, why didn’t you tell them about your adventures instead?” said Tungtang.
“I could have, I suppose – but where would I start?” the crow replied calmly as he preened his feathers. “We crows have so many adventures – ones that an ugly, smelly toad like you can only dream of.”
“And what do crows consider to be an adventure?”
“An adventure is when you go somewhere totally different – somewhere mysterious. Dangerous, even. You have to go where no one has ever been before. The town, for example.” The tiresome crow said this casually, watching in satisfaction as Tungtang’s face took on a startled expression.
“The t-town!” stuttered Tungtang in horror. “But – it’s full of humans!”
“Exactly. And how many toads have ever been into town?”
“None. You’d have to be crazy to go there!”
“Crazy? Don’t you mean… adventurous?”
Tungtang gulped. She did not know what to say.
“Scared as well as ugly… how I would hate to be a toad!” screeched the crow cruelly.
“Be quiet, you stupid creature! I’ll show you. I’m going to be the first toad to set foot in town.”
“In your dreams,” mocked the crow, hitting Tungtang with yet another perfectly-aimed acorn.
Tungtang shouted and hopped up and down angrily as the nasty crow flew off, cackling.
Chapter 2
Even after a good night’s sleep, Tungtang could not forget about her encounter with the crow. Perhaps the annoying bird was right. If she wanted to be an adventurer, then it was time to do something different − something unheard of. After all, she had seen all that the riverbank had to offer. The thought of a journey to town did worry her, but she had to admit that it also filled her with an enormous sense of excitement.
A few days later, Tungtang told the other toads that she was planning a grand journey to town. They looked at her as if she had gone mad.
“Only foolish toads go into the great unknown,” grunted Muddybum. He was a know-it-all who saw himself as the future leader of the community. “Everyone knows what happens to toads who are captured by humans.”
“What?” asked Tungtang.
“They get beaten with big sticks and squashed with heavy stones!” replied Muddybum grimly.
There was a murmur from the crowd.
�
��After that, the humans chop them up into little pieces, roast them in a giant pot and eat them with vegetables and gravy,” continued Muddybum, who was beginning to enjoy scaring the others. “Some of them even call the dish Toad in the Hole.”
The crowd grew anxious as Muddybum related various tales about toads who had been kidnapped by humans, never to be seen again. Some of the younger toads began to cry.
Suddenly, there was the sound of loud coughing. The crowd separated as an old, warty toad called Grandpa Nutbelch appeared. He glared at Muddybum, who promptly stopped his gruesome tale. Grandpa Nutbelch was the oldest toad on the riverbank, and not even Muddybum dared to ignore him.
“I have lived in Muddy River for twenty-five rainy seasons,” bellowed Grandpa Nutbelch. “As you know, my grandmother came from the outside world as a tadpole, with none other than Dustysox the Great himself!”
The crowd gasped as the name of the most famous amphibian in Muddy River history was mentioned.
“My grandmother would have told you that Dustysox the Great would have been ashamed to hear you talking like this.” said Grandpa Nutbelch. “Adventure is in our cold blood!”
“Here we go again,” muttered Muddybum – but he quickly shut up when Grandpa Nutbelch stared at him.
“You know his famous prediction as well as I do,” declared Grandpa Nutbelch.
All the toads except Muddybum began to chant:
After me will come another toad
One who will set out on a distant road
The toad will look forward but never back
For the journey from Muddy River will be a one-way track
The humans will hold the toad in great esteem
For unlocking the secret of leaves and steam
In the future, all will honour the name
Of the toad who achieved human glory and fame
“You don’t honestly believe that Dustysox the Great meant Tungtang,” smirked Muddybum.
“Well he certainly didn’t mean you, did he?” growled Grandpa Nutbelch. “You’ve probably never been further than the toilet by the big water lily.”
The crowd erupted in laughter. Muddybum scowled and slunk away into the shadows.
Grandpa Nutbelch turned to Tungtang. “If your destiny lies in the unknown land of the humans, then that is where you must go. I know that you will bring honour to all toadkind!”
Tungtang rapidly found herself surrounded by enthusiastic, cheering toads.
***
Later that afternoon, Tungtang was in her little burrow preparing for the great adventure when she received a visit from Grandpa Nutbelch. He was carrying a small bundle, which he laid out on the ground.
“A good traveller is always well-prepared,” he said. “How much do you know about humans?”
“Not too much,” admitted Tungtang.
Occasionally, humans would visit Muddy River in groups and pass the day there making lots of noise and scattering garbage. Tungtang had often observed their weird behaviour and tried to understand their non-croaking language, but she could not claim to be an expert.
“Newspaper and magazine clippings,” said Grandpa Nutbelch. He unravelled various strange pieces of paper with black marks and pictures on them. “You can learn a lot about humans from them.”
“Where did you get these from?”
“My grandmother. She said the best way to learn about humans was through the junk they leave behind.”
Tungtang stared at the bits of paper, but could not make much sense of them.
“I’m going to tell you everything I know about humans,” explained Grandpa Nutbelch. “I don’t know what you’ll encounter on your great adventure, but perhaps something I say may come in handy.”
“What’s this?” asked Tungtang, staring at one of the odd pictures Grandpa Nutbelch handed her. All she could see were rows of big stone boxes with neatly placed holes in them.
“This is where humans live,” replied Grandpa Nutbelch.
“What? Inside?”
Grandpa Nutbelch chuckled. “In some places, they build these objects higher than the trees and squash as many people as possible inside. Humans feel happier when there’s less space to move around.”
Tungtang gasped as she picked up another strange picture. Several people appeared to be climbing into small cages.
“They’re called cars,” explained Grandpa Nutbelch. “Although humans have legs, they don’t like to use them, so they move around in these cages.”
“And these coloured lights?”
“They’re called traffic lights. The humans use them to make sure that everyone moves as slowly as possible in their cars. It’s their strange habit again of wanting to be in crowds.”
A glossy magazine advertisement caught Tungtang’s eye. A woman was holding a small bottle and a strange cloud was coming out of it.
“That’s called perfume,” said Grandpa Nutbelch. “Humans smell pretty weird, so they spray gases made from fancy flowers all over them. You’d imagine that they could just roll around in plants like us toads do, but humans don’t like to do things the easy way.”
“Why is this man on fire?” asked Tungtang, looking at another advertisement.
“A curious habit of humans is that they don’t always want to smell nice. When they want to go back to being stinky, they put sticks in their mouths and create smoke.”
Tungtang frowned. Humans sure had a funny way of living their lives.
When it finally came to the day of her departure from Muddy River, Tungtang felt ready for her great adventure. Her send-off was one of the most magnificent in local amphibian history, with toads of all ages lining the riverbank and croaking raucously. Even Muddybum was too curious to stay away.
“I don’t know how many more rainy seasons I’ll be around,” said Grandpa Nutbelch to Tungtang. “But I’m happy that I lived to see the day when a brave toad set out to fulfil Dustysox the Great’s prophecy.”
“I’ll do my best,” said Tungtang. There were tears in her eyes. “Thank you for everything.”
As she hopped along the dirt track, she looked back frequently. If the legend was true, it would be the last time she would ever see Muddy River. Grandpa Nutbelch and the others waved to her until she became just a distant, dark green blot on the horizon.
Chapter 3
Tungtang was exhausted. She had never hopped so far in her life. It had been a frightening experience to follow the big highway for so many weeks. The vehicles that whizzed by were just as noisy and smelly as Grandpa Nutbelch had said they would be. Why did humans feel the need to rush around so much?
Tungtang stopped at a road sign which marked the entrance to the town. She tried to understand the strange human words:
Welcome to Little Cobblestone
Historic Market Town – established 1638
The town where our smiles make up for the constant rain
She stared at her new surroundings in awe. The town was just like in the pictures that Grandpa Nutbelch had shown her – although, from a toad’s viewpoint, it did have some unusual features. Unlike the river, there was no running water and no muddy banks to jump up and down on in order to get covered in dirt. Occasionally she would see a tree and some plants, or a puddle, but most surfaces were covered in tough, stony material. It was not very well designed for hopping, but Tungtang was so excited that she ignored the pain in her feet. She had now travelled further than any other toad in history!
She turned a corner and found herself in a busy street, marvelling at the giant buildings with their endless rows of windows. So these were the mysterious stone boxes that humans sat inside all day!
Tungtang’s thoughts were interrupted by her rumbling stomach. It had been several hours since she had last eaten. The squashed, dusty beetle that she had found l
ying underneath a punctured truck tyre had not been the greatest of meals.
A small, yellow building caught Tungtang’s eye. The best food for toads was usually brightly coloured, so that seemed like a logical place to head for a meal.
As she attempted to clamber onto the first step, she was overpowered by a most unusual – but heavenly – smell wafting through the air. The sensational odour was coming from the window of the building next door. She was drawn to it like a fly to rotting fruit, and before she knew it she found herself climbing up a metal pipe.
When Tungtang reached the windowsill, she peered into the room. Groups of humans were seated around tables and were drinking from small objects that they held to their lips. Gentle, relaxing music played in the background. Curiously, unlike in the street outside, everything seemed very calm. These people also seemed to be dressed in better clothes than the ones she had seen earlier.
Tungtang dodged to the side as a human head covered in white hair appeared near the window.
“Horatio, shall we see what today’s special blends are? I promised to buy Baroness Blabberbelly something exotic,” said an old lady, taking off a large flowery hat.
“Earl Eggbreath highly recommends their Imperial Dragon tea,” replied an old, bald man in a pin-striped suit.
“Honestly, Horatio! Do you really think that I would listen to the advice of a man who turned up to the King and Queen’s banquet wearing a kilt that was too small for him?”
“No, my dear, I suppose not,” chuckled her husband.
Tungtang saw the two odd-looking humans walk stiffly away from their table. She seized her chance. She hopped down onto the table and was delighted to see that it was covered in the exotic human food she had heard all about. She was wandering around freely, nibbling on the delectable cakes and pastries, when she was once again overcome by the mysterious smell that had first attracted her. It was coming from a dainty white cup ahead.
