Toad Away

by Morris Gleitzman

  “Come with me,” said Limpy. “There's something I want to show you.”

  Limpy's room wasn't very big and it was a squash fitting all the birds in, but Limpy managed.

  The birds kept on with their jokes, right up until they saw the piles of flat dead rellies.

  Then they went very quiet.

  “These are uncles,” said Limpy, pointing to a stack in the corner. “And these are aunties, and these are cousins.”

  One of the birds had been leaning its wing on the cousin stack. It hopped away, looking embarrassed.

  “You poor bloke,” said the bird. “We have casualties, but nothing like this. This is like a war.”

  Limpy was glad Goliath wasn't around to hear this. It was the day each month that Mum and Dad took Goliath to the waterfall to flush his insides out.

  “Have you ever seen anything like this in the Amazon?” Limpy asked the birds.

  He half-expected them to say “who wants to know” but they didn't.

  “No,” they said quietly. “We haven't.”

  “So humans in the Amazon don't kill cane toads,” said Limpy.

  “Don't think so,” said the birds. “We've never seen any sign of it.”

  It was exactly what Limpy was hoping they'd say.

  “I need to go to the Amazon really urgently,” he said. “My ancestors have been living there since time began, and I need to visit them to learn the ancient secret of how to live in peace with humans.” He took a deep breath. “Any chance of a lift, please?”

  The biggest bird's beak fell open.

  He stared at Limpy.

  “You're asking me,” he said, “to carry you halfway round the world, across plains and mountains and cities and oceans, risking wing strain and leg rupture and claw cramp, just so a bunch of your family and friends won't get squashed by humans?”

  “Yes,” said Limpy.

  The bird stared silently at the piles of rellies.

  “OK,” said the bird. “We're leaving first thing tomorrow.”

  After Limpy finished thanking the birds, and they left, he started packing for the trip.

  His one worry now was how to tell Mum and Dad.

  He was pretty sure the journey to the Amazon would be long and dangerous. What if Mum and Dad got upset and tried to stop him from going? Or, even worse, wanted to come themselves? Crossing plains and mountains and cities and oceans was much too risky for a couple their age.

  But he had to let them know he was going so they wouldn't think he'd just disappeared or been arrested by an angry supermarket company.

  Suddenly he knew what to do. Once he was airborne, and it was too late for anyone to stop him from going, he'd get his bird to swoop low over the swamp so he could tell Mum and Dad he'd be away for a while, but not to worry, he'd be fine and so would they, with Charm and Goliath to look after them.

  He felt better now that he'd decided that.

  Then Charm hopped into his room and he didn't feel better anymore.

  “Have you had birds in here?” said Charm.

  Limpy could see she'd spotted some feathers on the floor.

  “No,” said Limpy. “They're just left over from an old lunch of Goliath's.”

  He felt awful, lying to Charm. His insides felt yucky, like the time he ate the car-deodorant block Goliath gave him for his birthday.

  Charm's face fell, and Limpy could see she knew he was lying.

  He couldn't bear it.

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “I have had birds in here. They're going to take me to the Amazon so I can find out how our rellies there live in peace with humans. I didn't want you to know in case you wanted to come. I don't want you to come because it'll be too dangerous and I don't want anything to happen to you.”

  Limpy hoped Charm wouldn't be angry.

  She didn't seem to be. She was gazing at Limpy, mouth trembling. She put her arms around him.

  “I love you, Limpy,” said Charm. “And I'm really glad you're my brother.”

  “I love you too,” said Limpy.

  They hugged each other for a long time.

  “There's something I haven't had a chance to tell you,” said Charm. “You were really brave, the way you saved Goliath from that supermarket freezer. And the way you saved that human girl from that drink. And it wasn't your fault we couldn't save Aunty Pru.”

  “Thanks,” whispered Limpy.

  I'll miss you, Charm, he thought sadly, trying to stop his glands from trembling too much.

  Suddenly he was hoping the journey to the Amazon wouldn't be too long and dangerous.

  “Goliath,” whispered Limpy. “Wake up.”

  Goliath moaned and tried to wriggle deeper into the mud puddle he was sleeping in. He opened an eye, then closed it.

  “No,” he said. “It's not even dawn yet.”

  “We're going to be late,” said Limpy. “It's taken me ages to find you. Why can't you sleep in your room?”

  “It's better out here,” mumbled Goliath. “If you're lucky, worms crawl into your tummy while you're asleep.” He opened an eye again. “Late for what?”

  “We're going to the Amazon,” said Limpy.

  Goliath sat up, eyes open wide.

  “The Amazon?” he said. “Good idea. We can get all the cane toads over there to join our army and crush those mongrel humans forever. And blow up their freezers.”

  Limpy sighed.

  He'd agonized most of the night about whether to bring Goliath on the trip. He'd finally decided he had to. It was the only way he could keep an eye on Goliath and stop him starting wars.

  Please let it be the right decision, thought Limpy while Goliath had a stretch and checked under his eyelids for breakfast.

  The first wart-blush of dawn was creeping into the sky. Limpy grabbed Goliath's hand and led him quickly toward the far end of the swamp.

  “How are we getting to the Amazon?” asked Goliath.

  “By air,” said Limpy. “Some birds are taking us.”

  “Ripper,” said Goliath. “I want the fastest one.”

  Even as he was saying this, something swooped low over their heads. They both looked up.

  “That's not fair,” said Goliath. “Charm got first pick.”

  Limpy stared upward. He desperately wanted Goliath to be wrong as usual, but the bird turned and swooped low again and Limpy saw with a jolt of panic that Goliath was right.

  Gripped in the bird's claws was Charm.

  “Sorry, Limpy!” she yelled. “But I can't let you do it. Brazil's much too far for a bloke with a crook leg. Tell Mum and Dad I'll be away awhile, but not to worry, I'll be fine.”

  Limpy could barely hear her last words, because the bird was already heading for the blood-red horizon.

  “Come on!” Limpy yelled at Goliath as other birds swooped over their heads. “We can't let her go on her own.”

  Limpy burst through the bushes at the far end of the swamp and almost fainted with relief.

  There were two birds left.

  “They're still here!” yelled Goliath.

  “Don't get your beak in a twist,” said one of the birds, looking up from the mud he was pecking at.“We're having a late breakfast. Is that a crime?”

  “No need to get your wings in a knot,” said the other bird to Limpy. “Your sister's gone instead. And I personally think she'll do a better job, because in my experience girls are better at quests that involve being polite and asking questions.”

  “We need to go too,” said Limpy. “Right now.”

  Before the birds could answer, Mum and Dad burst through the bushes, looking distraught.

  “We saw Charm flying away,” said Mum. “Where's she going?”

  Limpy tried to think what to say that wouldn't upset Mum and Dad even more.

  “She's going to the Amazon to find the ancient secret of how to deal with humans,” said Goliath.

  “But don't worry, we're going too, so it'll be OK. We probably won't all be killed, so at least one of us'll ma
ke it back.”

  Limpy wished Goliath was somewhere else. Like under the mud.

  Mum and Dad's faces fell further.

  So did Goliath's when he realized what he'd said.

  “On second thoughts,” he mumbled, “perhaps none of us should go.”

  The two birds looked at each other, then at Goliath.

  “He does look a bit heavy to carry,” said the first bird.

  To Limpy's surprise, Mum spoke up.

  “No, he's not,” said Mum. “It's mostly wind.”

  “Show them, Goliath,” said Dad.

  Goliath let out a lot of wind, fast and loud.

  “See?” said Mum. “Get him airborne and he'll help you catch up to our daughter in no time.”

  The takeoff was fine.

  Sort of.

  Limpy and Goliath waved to Mum and Dad, and they both waved back. Limpy saw pride on their faces as well as concern.

  “Try not to worry,” he called to them.

  “That's right!” yelled Goliath. “We'll be back safely before you can say Aunty Pru!”

  Limpy hid his head.

  The birds carried them higher, over the human suburb. Limpy looked down at the tiny humans starting their day. They didn't look so scary that size, and Limpy was filled with a happy feeling.

  This quest was going to be a success, he was certain.

  Then he saw that Goliath was scowling and doing a pee onto the supermarket far below.

  OK, thought Limpy. Almost certain.

  Once the birds reached cruising altitude, Goliath's warts turned pale and he started to panic.

  “Can you fly a bit lower?” he said to his bird. “It's not that I'm scared of heights or anything. I'm just trying to spot more human targets so we can do more bombing runs.”

  Goliath's bird ignored him.

  “All right,” wailed Goliath. “I am scared of heights.”

  His bird still ignored him.

  Limpy wasn't enjoying the flight either, and he didn't mind heights. He didn't even mind his bird's claws digging painfully into the loose skin at the back of his neck, or the cold air making his warts and eyeballs ache.

  What he hated was how, apart from a few clouds, the sky ahead was completely empty. Not a sign of Charm.

  Limpy tried not to think of the awful things that could be happening to his little sister. Lightning strikes. Thunderstorms with hail the size of mice. Attacks by eagles or ducks.

  He tried to console himself by thinking about Charm's strengths. He knew she could look after herself, he'd seen her do it loads of times. She could disable a killer wombat just with tickling.

  But she'd never done it this high up.

  “Excuse me,” Limpy said to his bird. “Any chance of flying a bit faster?”

  “Excuse me,” said his bird. “This is a three-day flight. I'm trying to conserve energy. Any chance of reducing wind-drag by keeping your mouth shut?”

  After a lot more flying, Goliath started to enjoy the trip.

  “This isn't so bad,” he called across to Limpy. “I really like the in-flight meal service.”

  Limpy had to admit it wasn't so bad. Every time the big wings flapped above his head, a shower of tiny lice and mites tumbled down out of the feathers. All you had to do was stick your tongue out.

  That's if you could stomach food in the first place.

  Limpy's guts were so knotted he had lice and mites knocking on the inside of his mouth asking to be let out.

  “Look!” yelled Goliath. “Humans!”

  Limpy peered down. Goliath was right. They were flying over the outskirts of a city. Limpy could see roads and buildings and those places where humans took their cars for a drink.

  “Get your mucus into lumps, everyone!” yelled Goliath. “We'll bomb the mongrels!”

  “Or, alternatively,” said Goliath's bird, “some of us could use our mucus to block our mouths up so we can have some peace and quiet.”

  Limpy didn't join in this discussion. He was too busy staring ahead, excitement surging through him about what he could suddenly see in the distance. Several birds, wheeling in a circle. Birds like the ones he and Goliath were traveling with.

  Dangling from the claws of one was a tiny figure.

  Limpy couldn't see her face, but he recognized the determined shape of her shoulders and the way her legs were flapping behind her just like they did when Dad spun her round by her poison glands.

  “Charm!” screamed Limpy.

  He tugged frantically at his bird's ankles.

  “We've got to catch up with her!” he yelled.

  “Excuse me,” said Limpy's bird.“I do distance. If you wanted speed, you should have waited for a sparrow.”

  Suddenly Limpy stopped listening. He almost stopped breathing. He stared helplessly at the awful, horrible, terrible thing that was happening up ahead.

  Charm wasn't dangling from her bird's claws anymore.

  She was falling, tumbling, plummeting toward the ground.

  “Charm!” yelled Limpy.

  “He's dropped her!” screamed Goliath.

  “Excuse me,” said Goliath's bird. “We don't drop passengers. If she's finishing her flight here, it's because she wants to.”

  Limpy had never heard such rubbish. This wasn't the Amazon. They hadn't traveled nearly far enough. And anyway, who would want to end a journey falling from this height onto a big area of concrete?

  “No,” croaked Limpy.

  He couldn't take his eyes off his dear plummeting sister. He didn't want to look, but he couldn't stop himself.

  Poor thing. She'd come all this way only to end up as flat and dead as if she'd stayed at home.

  Unless …

  “She's gunna hit that bus!” screamed Goliath.

  Limpy's bird was swooping low now and Limpy could see Charm tumbling toward a big tourist bus parked next to a building. But she didn't hit the bus, she disappeared behind it. For a brief moment Limpy couldn't see her. Then the swoop carried him up again and there she was, on the other side of the bus, lying facedown on top of a big pile of human tourist bags.

  Arms and legs stuck out straight.

  Not moving.

  “Drop us!” yelled Limpy.

  “Excuse me,” said his bird. “You heard what my colleague said. We don't drop.”

  “That's an airport down there,” said Goliath's bird.“Airports are made of concrete. You're made of squishy stuff. You do the sums.”

  “I don't care,” said Limpy. “Drop us.”

  He saw it was too late. They were already flying past the airport. He twisted round, desperately trying to see a landmark he could use to find his way back to Charm.

  That tower with the windows in the top.

  “My cousin said drop us,” yelled Goliath, “and he meant it!”

  “Read my beak,” said Limpy's bird. “We don't drop.”

  “If you don't drop us now,” roared Goliath, “I'm gunna bite through your ankles!”

  “For you two,” said Goliath's bird, “we'll make an exception.”

  The fall was scary.

  Limpy took his mind off it by thinking about Charm. Her sweet face. Her kind nature. The way she could scare off wild bush pigs just by giving them math problems.

  The landing was fairly soft. And very smelly.

  “Yuck,” said Goliath, spitting and rubbing his eyes.

  “Human poo.”

  It was. Once Limpy's head stopped spinning, he looked around in amazement. He'd never seen so much in one place. Swamp-loads of it.

  “It's a sewage farm,” said a blowfly sunbathing nearby.

  “A farm?” said Goliath, amazed. “You mean humans don't produce enough of this stuff themselves, so they grow more?”

  Limpy remembered they were in the middle of a family tragedy.

  “Goliath,” he said, trembling. “We have to find Charm.”

  Goliath's face fell.

  “I know,” he said sadly. “I was trying not to think about it.” He
smacked a big fist into a warty palm. “I hate those mongrel humans with their vicious pies and poo farms. When I get my army together I'm gunna flatten those mongrels for killing Charm.”

  Limpy sighed.

  “We don't have time for this now,” he said. “Charm might not be dead. She might just be hurt.”

  “Yeah, well even if she is just hurt,” said Goliath, “it's still those mongrels’ fault. They're the ones whose truck squashed your leg when you were little. Charm only did this trip 'cause of your crook leg.”

  Limpy stared at Goliath.

  He was right.

  Dad always reckoned it was no use crying over squashed legs, and Limpy usually agreed, but suddenly he didn't anymore.

  Suddenly anger stabbed through him and made his warts burn.

  If he had two good legs, Charm wouldn't have risked her life like this.

  It was the humans’ fault.

  Limpy closed his eyes and imagined a whole suburb of humans guzzling drinks while Goliath stood nearby, his bladder completely drained.

  Then Limpy remembered Charm. He thought about her lying on the bags, in pain, waiting for him and Goliath to come.

  He opened his eyes, blinked away the angry feelings, and grabbed Goliath.

  “Come on,” he said.

  The airport tarmac was very busy.

  Birds and insects from all over Australia and many other parts of the world were landing and taking off continuously.

  The individual in charge seemed to be a weary-looking cockroach. He was waving air traffic in and out with what looked at first to Limpy like a couple of table-tennis bats. When Limpy got closer he saw they were actually moth wings. The moth was standing at the edge of the tarmac looking annoyed.

  “Excuse me,” said Limpy to the cockroach. “Have you got a moment?”

  “Make it snappy,” said the cockroach. “I've got butterflies from Africa on approach and stink beetles in a holding pattern.”

  “We're looking for my sister,” said Limpy. “She was on a pile of luggage next to a bus, but the bus and the luggage have gone.”

  “This is an airport,” said the cockroach. “Buses and luggage don't hang around.” He paused in the middle of landing a pelican and peered at Limpy. “There was one of your lot here just now. Cute kid. On her way to the Amazon.”