by Steph Matuku
The thought was cheering, and it was with happy hearts that she and her mother set off the next morning for work. Whetū showed Mum the little gap in the bushes at the end of the garden, and clambered after her over the stile. Then they walked down the track through the empty field. The grass was covered with a light sprinkling of dew, and Whetū’s dusty gumboots became bright and shiny red.
The bull watched them from the far side of his field and gave a little snort.
Mum shivered. “I don’t much like the look of him. He looks so fierce!”
Whetū shook her head. “He’s really not. Watch this.” She waved at the bull and shouted, “Good morning!”
The bull jumped back in fright and galloped behind a clump of flax. The long leaves quivered as the bull trembled in fear.
“Told you,” said Whetū.
They reached the end of the field and climbed the wire fence. Mum gave her a kiss and then went down the path that led to the magician’s home.
Whetū wandered into the yard, noting with a sigh that it was still covered with chicken poo. She would have to clean that. But first things first.
She tapped at the barn door and then opened it.
Being inside the barn was like being in the middle of the sun. Ramses lay on a bed of straw in a cosy corner and his fleece shone so brightly, Whetū wished she’d remembered to bring her sunglasses.
He raised his head as she walked in. “Good morning!”
“Good morning, Mr Ramses,” said Whetū.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“I’m the new keeper, sir,” said Whetū. “I’ve come to give you your breakfast.”
The golden ram gave a smile that showed all his pearly teeth, and got to his feet. “Excellent! But I thought your mother was to be keeper?”
“She didn’t think she’d have time.”
“Didn’t have time? Forgive me for saying so, but your mother doesn’t sound as if she has her priorities quite right.”
“I’m not sure,” said Whetū, who wasn’t quite sure what ‘priorities’ meant. “But I wanted the job. I think you’re all quite wonderful.”
The ram fluffed up his golden fleece and looked pleased. “Now that’s the right attitude for a keeper!”
Whetū pulled out the list from her pocket and checked it. The sacks of feed were kept in a little room on the far side of the barn. She carefully measured out the right quantity of grain before tipping it into one of the feed troughs. Then she filled up the water trough. While Ramses was eating, Whetū quickly swept up all the old straw and replaced it with a new pile.
“Would you like to go outside and graze for a while?” she asked.
“Not just now. The other animals … well … they’ve made complaints. When the sun is shining they’re quite blinded by my beauty. I usually only graze when it’s cloudy or when the sun is setting.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. It’s a lovely day out there.”
“I wouldn’t know,” said Ramses, and he looked quite sad for a moment. “But never mind. You get along. The pigs will be wondering where you are.”
The pigs were lying in their sty with their eyes closed, in exactly the same position as the day before.
“Good morning!” said Whetū loudly.
The black pig twitched an ear and the white pig opened an eye and said, “I’m so hungry. Would you be so kind as to spoon my food into my mouth?”
The black and white and pink splotched pig said nothing. It was still asleep.
“Certainly not,” said Whetū firmly. She wasn’t about to make the lazy pigs lazier than they already were. “I shall put your food at the other end of the sty, and you’ll have to get up to eat it.”
She opened the door and emptied a bucket of pig pellets with a few leftover scraps into their trough. There were all kinds of things in there that pigs love to eat – carrot peelings and apple cores, burnt porridge and half-eaten crusts, and some cold mashed potato.
“It smells so delicious!” whimpered the white pig. “Please, I’m begging you!”
“You must get up if you want to eat,” said Whetū.
The white pig sniffed the air longingly. “Oh dear. Is that apple pie I smell?”
“It’s what we had for pudding last night,” said Whetū.
“You heartless creature!” said the white pig bitterly, and with a tremendous effort it hauled itself to its feet. It stood there, wobbling for a moment, then slowly made its way to the trough.
“Glorious!” it whispered, and buried its face in its breakfast.
“Come on.” Whetū prodded at the other two pigs with her broom. “Up you get, or there won’t be any left.”
With much groaning and grumbling, the other two pigs dragged themselves up and staggered over to the trough.
Whetū cleaned up the sty and replaced the old straw with new. She felt proud to have got the lazy pigs moving.
I’m not such a bad animal keeper after all, she thought.
Just then there was a terrific banging and crashing from behind the red barn, and a horrible howling squeal that turned Whetū’s blood cold. Quickly she picked up the broom and ran to investigate.
9
– WHETŪ HAS A LITTLE LAMB –
As Whetū drew closer to the barn, the squealing grew louder and louder. It was coming from behind the barn, and now she could hear growling and clanging too. She followed the eerie sounds, her tummy doing nervous flip flops. Right at the back, partially concealed by the overhanging roof, stood a big box. It was covered with red silky material tied at the corners with ribbons.
“Hello?” called Whetū, her voice trembling.
The squealing stopped. The silence seemed almost worse, somehow. She could sense something inside the box straining to hear.
There came a scuffle and a thud and she stepped back a few paces.
“Hello?” she called again.
There was no answer, but she thought she heard a low growl. Bolstering her courage, she moved closer to the silk-covered box and quickly untied a ribbon from one corner. It easily came undone and she moved round to the next corner, and then the next and the next. Finally the red silk lay loose over the box. Holding her breath, Whetū gripped one end and with a flourish, whipped the silk away.
Underneath was a cage with thick vertical bars, and inside stood the sweetest, fluffiest, cutest little lamb she had ever seen.
“Oh!” Whetū breathed.
The lamb blinked big brown eyes.
“Aren’t you the sweetest thing? Who on earth put you in a cage? You little darling!”
She put a hand out towards the bars, wanting to touch that soft fluffy wool. The lamb took a step closer to her, its nose sniffing eagerly. She pushed her hand through the bars, the lamb was trotting towards her now, closer … closer … she could almost touch it.
Suddenly there was a thundering of hooves and she felt a terrific blow on her side. She flew into the air and fell heavily to the ground. All the wind was knocked out of her, and she could only gasp, blinking at the sky, which had become so shiny bright she had to close her eyes.
“Oh dear!” Ramses cried. “Are you all right? I’m so sorry!”
Whetū struggled to sit up. Her ribs ached, and her sweatshirt was dirty. Her eyes welled up, and a tear trickled down her cheek. “Why did you do that? I only wanted to pat it!”
Ramses voice was stern. “And that would have been the last thing you ever did.”
Whetū got to her feet. Ramses stood square between her and the cage, but she could see the lamb over his golden shoulder. The lamb stared back at her. Its eyes narrowed, and it licked its lips. She was surprised at how pointed and sharp its teeth were. The lamb let out a loud squeal and threw itself at the bars with a loud clang.
Whetū jumped back in fright. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s hungry. It’s always hungry.”
“Should I fetch it some hay?”
“It doesn’t eat hay,” said Ramses
. “It’s a carnivorous lamb.”
“A what?” asked Whetū.
“A carnivorous lamb,” Ramses repeated. “It only eats meat. Preferably live meat. That’s why I had to butt you out of the way. If it had got hold of your hand …” The ram shook his head, sending twinkling lights across the side of the barn.
“Would it bite me?” whispered Whetū.
“Bite you? It would have devoured you! First your hand, then your arm, then your shoulder. It would have dragged you through the bars bit by bit until all that remained were your red gumboots.”
Whetū gasped. “How horrible! Thank you, Ramses. You saved my life.”
“I suppose Errant didn’t tell you about the carnivorous lamb?” said Ramses with a shrewd look.
“No, well – he didn’t really have time. I made the bull cry by accident, and Errant told me to go home.”
“I’m not surprised he didn’t tell you. He was the one who turned the lamb carnivorous in the first place.”
“What? He turned a lovely little lamb into that – that thing?”
“A little bit of magic gone a lot wrong,” said Ramses. “Errant isn’t content just being an assistant. He wants to be a magician too. Unfortunately, he’s not very good at magic. He thinks he is, but as you can see …”
The lamb bared its sharp teeth and growled.
A sudden thought struck Whetū. “And was he the one who turned the pig’s ear into a silk purse?”
Ramses nodded.
“Oh no,” said Whetū. “Well, I suppose I’d better get something else for the lamb to eat. It can’t help being like that. It wouldn’t be fair to just let it starve.” She pulled out the yellow list of instructions from her pocket and looked at it. “It’s not listed on here.”
“Errant’s kept it a secret. If the magician finds out about it, Errant will be out on his floppy ear. He’s tried and tried to turn the lamb back the way it was, but nothing works. He managed to turn it green last Thursday, but that’s about it.”
“So what do I feed it, then?” Whetū couldn’t bear the thought of leading a live creature into the cage for the lamb to gobble up.
“We’ve been pushing dead rats through the bars, but we have an awful time convincing the cat to give them up. She loves rats, you see. She’s threatening to go on strike. I don’t suppose you have any meat at the cottage?”
“I think there’s a packet of sausages in the fridge. I’ll go back and get it.”
“It’s been chewing at the bars again,” Ramses said. “If it gets out, it’ll murder the lot of us. You’d better hurry.”
Whetū didn’t waste time replying. She just dropped her broom and ran.
10
– HARDER THAN IT LOOKS –
Whetū tore back to the cottage as fast as she could. Her ribs were still sore from being butted, and from falling on the hard ground. She charged through the back door and threw open the fridge. On the top shelf lay the sausages her mother was planning on cooking for dinner. Whetū wasn’t supposed to take food without asking, but she figured this was an emergency.
As she ran back to the farm with the sausages clutched in her hand, she couldn’t help but wonder what she was supposed to do in the future. A packet of sausages was all very well, but what about tomorrow? And the day after that? Perhaps she could persuade the cat to carry on feeding the lamb. She certainly couldn’t keep giving it their dinner.
Scraping and clanging echoed around the yard as the lamb gnawed at the bars, kicking at them with its front hooves. Ramses watched, an expression of disgust on his woolly face. Whetū quickly ripped off the plastic wrapping and threw a sausage into the cage. All the other sausages were still attached by a twist of skin, and they flew in like a long, meaty ribbon. The lamb pounced on one end and dragged the sausage string to the far side of its cage. It settled down and chewed, pausing every now and then to glare at Whetū and Ramses.
“The poor thing,” said Whetū. An idea struck her. “Perhaps if we put it in with some other sheep, it might learn how to eat grass?”
“We had a flock of sheep. The lamb ate them. Every single one. Including its own mother. Why do you think the field behind your cottage is empty?”
Whetū gasped and pressed a hand to her lips. Those poor sheep! She picked up the red silk cage cover and threw it over the top, tying the ribbons at the corners, trying to block out the grisly sounds of growling and chewing.
“Those sausages will keep it content for now,” said Ramses. “But you’d better have a word with the cat.”
“Yes, I will.”
“Of course, the best thing to do would be to put the lamb out of its misery altogether.”
“What do you mean?” Whetū was confused. The lamb hadn’t looked particularly miserable to her.
“Get rid of it,” said Ramses, ominously.
Whetū gasped. “You mean, kill it? Oh, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t! Errant will have to switch it back to being a normal lamb, and quickly! Didn’t The Mighty Mikaere notice when a whole flock of sheep went missing?”
“Errant said the sheep all jumped over the fence, and he fell asleep while he was counting them.”
“And the magician believed that?”
“Errant is his stage assistant. The magician trusts him implicitly.”
“Errant needs a good talking to,” said Whetū angrily. “But he’s off on tour with the magician for a whole week.”
“Then we shall just have to make the best of it in the meantime,” said Ramses.
Whetū followed the ram as he trotted off around the barn, his fleece glinting in the sunshine.
In the distance, the bull cried, “Oh! Oh! What’s that light? It hurts my eyes! You did it on purpose! Oh, boo hoo hoo!”
“I’ll be inside,” said the ram with a weary sigh. Whetū carefully shut the barn door behind him.
She pulled out her list of jobs. She still had to feed the chicken, clean out the coop and the yard, fetch oats and grain for the horses and find the cat.
Being an animal keeper was turning out to be more difficult than she’d thought.
Whetū worked hard all morning. The horses were nice enough, and were inclined to chat, but she had too much to do. There didn’t seem to be anything particularly unusual about the horses, apart from the fact that they could talk. They told her they enjoyed teasing the poor old bull, and would tiptoe up to the wire fence and shout loudly across the field to make him cry. Whetū didn’t think that was very kind, and said so.
“Oh, bull,” said one of the horses. “He’s just a big sooky la la.”
“You won’t make him any better by frightening him. Why don’t you try and be nice?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” said another horse, and all four took off at a canter around the field, kicking up their heels and laughing at the bull sitting in the corner of his field with his back to them, his big shoulders heaving with sobs.
Whetū eventually found the cat stretched out in the sun next to the sty. It was a rather superior looking ginger tabby whose main facial expression was bored. Whetū offered to provide the cat with proper tinned cat food, if it would keep the lamb happy with mice and rats and whatever else it could catch. The cat yawned and twitched its tail, and went off to sleep as soon as Whetū had shaken its paw to seal the bargain.
Then Whetū fed the chicken and scrubbed the coop clean. The chicken had laid a warm brown egg in a pile of hay, and Whetū put it carefully in her pocket to take back to the cottage.
Finally she pulled out her list and took one last look at it. Yes, she’d done everything she was supposed to. Her first day as animal keeper was over. She wondered how her mother had fared at the magician’s house. Time to go and find out.
11
– DEBT –
When Whetū went back to the cottage, she found her mother frowning at the refrigerator.
“I’m sure there were some sausages in here. Never mind, we can have chops instead.”
Whetū handed her the chi
cken’s egg and sat down at the table, feeling guilty. She couldn’t tell her mother about the carnivorous lamb. Errant would get into terrible trouble, and for all his naughty ways, Whetū didn’t want to get him fired from his job.
“How was your day, Mum?” she said, changing the subject.
Her mother groaned. “Terrible.” She took out some carrots and began to peel them. “His paperwork is an awful mess. He just writes things down on little bits of paper and throws them into a huge room. You should see it. It’s as big as an aircraft hangar and filled to the ceiling with bills, phone messages, memos … it’ll take forever to sort out.”
“His house doesn’t look large enough to have a room as big as that,” said Whetū.
“There are lots of big rooms,” said Mum. “His house is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. But the worst thing is, I don’t think he’s as rich as he thinks he is. He’ll probably have to sell everything just to pay off his debts.”
“But what will happen to the animals?”
“Never mind the animals – what will happen to us?”
“What do you mean?” asked Whetū. “Can’t he afford to keep us?”
“I don’t see how,” said Mum. “He’s too generous for his own good. He buys the children’s hospital new beds every Christmas, and now all the patients and the nurses and the doctors have three beds each. He spends an awful lot of money on ozone needles and thread so that the scientists can mend the hole in the ozone layer. And the amount of money he’s given to the internet spiders so they can make the worldwide web even bigger … well, if you ask me, he’s just throwing his money away.”
“He does have that big concert coming up, the one with the King and Queen.”
“Yes, he does. It’s the King’s birthday party, and he’s being paid a colossal fee.”
Whetū felt quite excited. She’d seen pictures of the King and Queen in magazines. The Queen was as pale as moonlight, and always wore a blue crown that matched the colour of her eyes. The King was as dark as a moonless night, with long black hair tied up in a topknot. He wore a long green robe trimmed with expensive chocolate wrappers. They were madly in love, and gave out holidays whenever they felt like it. So far this year, Whetū had had days off school for Strawberries are Ripening Day, Cloudy Wednesday, and Marmalade is Nice Day.