Puppy Pie

by Sam Jasper

‘Listen, Gull,’ Lucy says, ‘why don’t we tell you a story about another Gull, and maybe that’ll cheer you up. After all, some of them didn’t do all that much. And it turned out all right in the end. What do you say?’

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ she answers trying to look cheerful.

  ‘Right.’ Lucy clears her tight throat. ‘Well, you know the story about the dogs dashing in to attack the robbers, don’t you?’

  Gull nods.

  ‘Well,’ Jake says cutting in, ‘the reason they flew into the house like that is because one of the daughters, the first Gull, had a special way of whistling, sort of high and shrill. And fast. So, before the robbers knew what was happening, she’d whistled the dogs. Even though people thought it was the dogs that saved the day, it was really Gull.’

  ‘Can you whistle, Gull?’ Tom asks hopefully.

  ‘Nope. Sorry,’ she answers. ‘So far, all I seem to have done is drink lots of cups of tea, play computer games and read e-mails.’ Suddenly, remembering, she adds, ‘Oh, and collect postcards.’

  ‘Postcards?’ Tom echoes. ‘Who’s been sending you postcards?’

  ‘Come with me,’ she grins as she leads the way into the lounge room, snatching her backpack up on the way through. ‘It’s not much but I think it may be another piece of the puzzle. If only someone would listen to us. Or if Harry was awake for a change, maybe …’

  As she’s talking, Gull is rummaging around in her backpack. Finally, she pulls out a handful of postcards.

  ‘Mmm, lovely,’ Tom smiles sorting through them quickly. ‘Who sent them?’

  ‘Look on the back,’ Jake says as he turns one over. ‘Norah Sprogg, it says. Jake starts laughing. ‘Lucy’s favourite person!’ Jake says mischievously, glancing sideways at his sister.

  Before Lucy can answer, Gull says, ‘She sent them during her honeymoon. As everybody knows, Norah recently married Cyril Sprogg. Travelled around two continents. Only been back a few weeks.’

  Lucy raises a questioning eyebrow. ‘How do you know all this?’

  ‘Bank gossip,’ Gull smiles. ‘Anyway, they went all over Europe. And then,’ she says, pausing for dramatic effect, ‘they went to South America.’

  ‘That must’ve been nice for them,’ Tom shrugs, studying a picture of Venice.

  ‘We’re in South America now,’ Jake says as he swipes Tom’s Venice and replaces it with Brazil.

  ‘Not only that,’ Gull smiles pinching both Venice and Brazil, ‘but we are now in Argentina.’

  ‘Argentina? Tom repeats. ‘Mmm, that sounds familiar.’

  Ignoring him, the others grab the Argentinian postcards.

  ‘As you can see, there were two postcards sent back here from Argentina: one from the capital and one from the Pampas. Every other country has only one postcard but not Argentina.’

  ‘The Pampas!’ Lucy continues, ‘Isn’t that where they grow …’

  ‘A lot of their crops?’ Jake finishes.

  ‘Yup,’ Gull nods. ‘And as Cyril Sprogg isn’t a farmer, you’d wonder why he’d go there, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Scenery,’ Tom says. ‘See?’ he says pointing to the postcard.

  Gull rolls her eyes. ‘And mites, Tom. Beautiful, menacing mites.’

  ‘Menacing’s right,’ Jake shudders. ‘Able to change your life with a single song or hum.’

  ‘Back to the postcards,’ Lucy says firmly. ‘So, they landed in Buenos Aires. What date is on the stamp?’

  ‘Says the thirteenth.’ Gull says, squinting at the postmark.

  ‘Unlucky number for us,’ Jake murmurs.

  ‘And then,’ Gull continues, flipping over the other postcard, ‘they sent this on the seventeenth. So, it looks as if they might have spent a few days in the Pampas.’

  ‘Or at least long enough to get what they wanted,’ Jake says bitterly. ‘Coming back and destroying innocent people’s lives. What for? I don’t understand.’

  Gull shrugs her shoulders.

  ‘Well, while you’ve been at the Bank, I’ve been making a list,’ Lucy says as she searches through the pockets in her jeans. ‘Ah!’ she exclaims reaching into the back pocket, ‘here it is. Should be able to knock it over in next to no time.’ She pulls out a stubby red pencil.

  ‘What’s on the list?’ Gull asks. ‘Can I help?’

  ‘I think we’ll all be helping,’ Lucy says seriously. ‘Let’s see,’ she says running her eye down the list. ‘Firstly, find out what’s making the crop fall over. Answer: Argentinian Siesta Mites. Tick’ she says, picking up her stubby red pencil.

  ‘Next item,’ Jake says.

  ‘Next item,’ Lucy continues, ‘find out who brought those treacherous mites into the country and why. Who is the culprit?’

  ‘Clue,’ Jake grins. ‘Suspicion falling on bland bank manager: has been spotted in Argentina with nasty Norah. Reason: who knows?’

  ‘Then,’ Tom says, plonking himself down beside his sister, ‘find out what’s the hurry with Dad’s overdraft, not to mention Ted’s and Jimmy’s? Is the Bank so broke that it needs the money quickly? Or,’ he says pausing for dramatic effect, ‘is there a more sinister reason?’

  Jake shakes his head at his brother. ‘Well, fellow detectives, I think the most important thing right now is to wake Dad up and get him to listen about the Argentinian Siesta Mites. So, first things first: let’s get Dad up. He’s slept long enough. If we can just get him on his feet, we can read the list to him. After all, he can’t sleep standing up: he’s not a horse.’

  After a quick sandwich and with little hope of success, the four of them sit on Harry’s bed, Lucy at the head. He’s so tired, Lucy thinks, he slept on the bed in his work clothes. Oh well, here goes. ‘Dad, wake up,’ she says shaking him gently.

  ‘Let me have a go,’ Jake says. He grabs his father’s shoulder and starts shaking him. ‘Come on, Dad,’ he says firmly. ‘Wake up. It’s important. The Folly is in danger.’ Blissfully unaware, Harry sleeps on.

  ‘My turn,’ Tom says as he moves Jake out of the way. ‘Wake up now, Dad,’ he says as he vigorously shakes both of Harry’s shoulders. ‘There’s a fire, Dad. And you have to help us put it out.’ Still, Harry sleeps on, oblivious to the frantic gang. Tom looks at the others in desperation who return his look. ‘What’ll we do now?’

  ‘Let’s see if we can get him on his feet,’ Jake says.

  While Lucy holds Harry’s shoulders, the twins pull and push until Harry is sitting up on the bed, breathing gently. Then Gull swings Harry’s legs over the side of the bed. Still, Harry sleeps on, his head now dropping onto his chest.

  ‘Harry,’ Gull says urgently. ‘Wake up!’ Oblivious to the struggle of his offspring and Gull, Harry sleeps on.

  ‘You know,’ Lucy says puffing, ‘I think Dad’ll just fall over even if we do get him to stand up.’

  ‘Probably,’ Jake nods, propping up his father’s back with his own to keep him upright, ‘not like horses that can lock their knees.’

  ‘Give up?’ Tom asks who is holding Harry steady from the front. ‘Lucy, it’s impossible to explain a conspiracy theory to someone who’s sound asleep.’

  Lucy nods sadly. With one mutual sigh, Gull, Lucy and the twins let Harry go. As they do so, he falls gently back onto the bed, rolls over on his side and continues his uninterrupted sleep. The four of them look down at Harry sleeping peacefully on the bed in his grubby work clothes. Exhaling one more defeated sigh, the gang troops dejectedly back to the lounge room.

  Lucy hugs herself as if trying to keep herself from falling apart. Then she idly glances out the window. ‘I bet Dad’s forgotten all about that,’ she says, half to herself.

  ‘Forgotten what?’ Tom asks staring out the window. ‘Oh, that!’

  ‘What?’ Jake and Gull ask simultaneously.

  ‘That,’ Lucy says pointing. ‘A heap of hemp still to be harvested.’

  ‘Well, at least it’s still standing,’ Gull sighs.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Tom says brightly. ‘That’s some good news.
’

  Tom isn’t listening. ‘How could Dad not see it? Hard to miss,’ Tom adds. ‘I mean it’s almost up to the back door.’

  ‘Not quite,’ Gull grins. ‘Anyway, if you’re walking around half asleep, of course you’re going to miss it. And don’t forget, he’s working on other people’s properties, not his.’

  ‘Must be at the back of his mind somewhere. Maybe he’s planning on doing it at the very end.’ Tom says.

  Jake scowls. ‘When’s he going to have time? The auction’s on Saturday and he won’t even be here … none of us will … to do it afterwards.’

  Lucy looks thoughtful. ‘It’d be a pity to leave it for the Bank.’

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Gull asks as she watches Lucy carefully.

  Jake looks hard at his sister. ‘I know what you’re thinking.’

  ‘What, smarty pants?’ Lucy asks cheekily.

  ‘Why don’t we do it ourselves?’ he says just as cheekily. ‘I mean, we can all drive the Harvester. And if we rotate, then we won’t be affected and fall asleep. It’s too dangerous for Dad to do it on his own.’

  ‘But will he let you?’ Gull asks. ‘You know how stubborn he can be about some things.’

  ‘It’s too dangerous for him to harvest on his own,’ Lucy says firmly. ‘He could fall asleep at the wheel and have an accident. It might be better if he slept through tomorrow so we can do as much as possible.’

  ‘Do as much what?’ a sleepy voice asks from the doorway. Everybody jumps. Harry yawns.

  ‘You’re awake Dad,’ Lucy says rushing over to him.

  ‘Of course I’m awake. Although,’ he says yawning, ‘I’ll be back in bed soon. Felt thirsty: must get some water. What’s everybody up for? It’s the middle of the night.’ Gull glances at her watch: it’s just past nine o’clock. ‘Got to be ready for tomorrow. Want to,’ he yawns, ‘get as much of my crop in as possible,’ he says blearily, pointing out the kitchen door.

  ‘We’ll help you, Dad,’ says Tom eagerly, without thinking. He glances over at Lucy: she’s mouthing “no, no, no” and waving her arms about. Tom shrugs too late.

  ‘Won’t need any help, Tom. You do your chores while I …’ he yawns again and wanders off to the bedroom, without getting any water.

  The gang races after him. ‘But Dad, now that you’re awake, we’ve got to tell you about our conspiracy theory.’

  ‘And the mites,’ Tom adds eagerly.

  ‘And the bank manager,’ Jake adds quickly.

  ‘’nough time tomorrow,’ Harry says as he slumps onto the bed.

  ‘No, Dad,’ Lucy says loudly. ‘There’s no time left. Come on, Dad. You’ve got to listen to us. Before it’s too late.’

  ‘Late,’ Harry mumbles as he turns over. ‘Time for bed.’

  Lucy screams in sheer frustration.

  Harry’s reply is a gentle snore.

  * * *

  The next day, breakfast is quick and quiet as everybody tries not to wake Harry up. At eight o’clock, Shirley arrives and whisks Gull away to the Bank. Wearing the same skirt but with a pink t-shirt this time, Gull is keeping up her seven year old image. While Jake quickly tidies up, Lucy and Tom start rolling the big red Harvester out of the big shed. With Tom sitting on the tyre’s rim, Lucy expertly steers towards the standing hemp crop.

  ‘Stop!’ a voice yells behind them. They both turn to see Harry stumbling out of the house.

  ‘That’s the girl,’ Harry says, still groggy from sleep. ‘I’ll take over from here.’

  Tom slides off the rim but Lucy is still sitting in the driver’s seat. ‘It’s okay, Dad. I know how to do it.’

  ‘Yes but you two should be helping with the chores. Move over, Lucy,’ Harry instructs as he clambers onto the Harvester. Lucy gives Tom a helpless look as she makes room for her father. Finding a precarious perch on the rim Tom’s vacated, Lucy sits down.

  ‘Dad,’ Lucy says firmly. ‘You’ve been very tired lately. I’m worried you’ll fall asleep at the wheel and end up in a ditch.’

  ‘I’m alright,’ Harry says morosely. He glances over at Lucy who is looking very concerned. ‘Okay, Lucy, you can come with me and make sure I don’t nap on the way,’ he says laughing feebly. ‘You go help your mother, Tom.’

  Honestly Dad, she thinks to herself, you’re really observant: Mum hasn’t been here for days. Lucy looks over at Tom in desperation. She thinks quickly and points to her watch. She mouths “one hour”.

  Tom nods and says, ‘I’ll bring you out something to eat in a while.’ Lucy nods and smiles as Harry lurches through the gears of the Harvester, Lucy hanging on for dear life.

  Back at the house, Jake is standing outside the kitchen looking very concerned.

  ‘Where’s he going?’ Jake asks Tom as they hear Harry gnashing the gears on the tractor.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Tom says racing back. ‘Lucy’s with him. I’ll take some food out in an hour and we’ll change over. And then you can take over from me.’

  Jake nods. ‘We could end up doing this all day. With any luck, Dad will be dozing again soon.’

  ‘That’d be the best thing,’ Tom nods. Staring after the Harvester, he says, ‘I hope Gull’s having more luck than we are. I wonder what she’ll find out today? She can’t be more bored than we are babysitting our dear old Dad.’

  * * *

  ‘Are you bored yet, Gull?’ Mary asks smiling as Gull clicks quickly onto the game of Patience, ‘I know it’s pretty boring here, even when you’ve got a job to do.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ Gull shrugs. ‘It’s good to have a change from the farm chores.’

  ‘I’ll swap with you then,’ Mary laughs. ‘I’d rather be at home any day. Well, must get back. Just help yourself to tea and biscuits any time.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Gull smiles. Mary wanders back to her desk. Help myself, Gull thinks to herself. If only I could. Somehow, I’ve got to save the Folly. I just hope that if I can save one farm, the other two farms will be saved automatically. She sighs heavily. It’s like an epidemic around here: first one farm, then two and now three. She shivers slightly. I know Shirley thinks the Bank is the big baddie but this time, I think the Bank’s got extra help it didn’t expect. Now all I have to do is find something against that friend of the bank manager, that man with white hair.

  Quickly closing her game of Patience, Gull brings up a list of all Bank clients. Mmm, she thinks as she stares at the list, there are surnames and names of properties. Well, it should be pretty easy to find the three farms and see what information the Bank has on them. Glancing around to make sure no one is bringing her yet another cup of tea, Gull starts her search.

  She frowns, perplexed. That’s odd, she thinks. I’ll ask Shirley. She might know. Just then, Gull looks up to see the bank manager hovering around Shirley’s desk. He glances up at Gull and smiles tightly. Gull shivers involuntarily. Uh oh, thinks Gull, I wonder if he suspects anything. I’m in big trouble if he does. Gull puts her head down and clicks on “Patience”, nervously sending the playing cards flying. When she dares look up again, Shirley is walking slowly towards her with a cup of tea.

  ‘You look thirsty,’ Shirley says. ‘Those games must be exhausting.’

  ‘They’re not a lot of fun,’ Gull says morosely. ‘And I can’t seem to find my favourite game,’ she adds, looking hard at Shirley.

  Shirley frowns and then her face clears. ‘Oh, right,’ she nods. Lowering her voice, Shirley says, ‘No hints? No clues yet?’

  Gull shakes her head slowly. ‘Er, what did your boss want, by the way?’ Gull asks as she takes a sip of the hot, sweet tea.

  ‘Well, today was nearly your last day at the Bank.’

  Gull looks up at Shirley wide-eyed. ‘Oh, no! What have I done?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Shirley replies quickly. ‘He just said that this is a place of business, not a kindergarten.’

  Gull chokes on her tea. ‘A kindergarten?’ she splutters.

  ‘Don’t worry. I fixed it. I told him
the truth,’ Shirley smiles with a gleam in her eye.

  ‘What?’ Gull gasps. ‘You told him what I’m really doing here?’

  Shirley grins. ‘It’s alright, Gull: only joking. No, I told him Helen was helping her sister prepare for her new baby, and that all day you’d be on your own. And as far as he knows, you’re such a daydreamer that you might inadvertently burn down the Folly by playing with matches.’

  Gull looks at Shirley anxiously. ‘So this isn’t my last day?’

  ‘No it isn’t. I told him Helen wouldn’t be back until the weekend. So, you’ve still got a few days but we are running out of time. Oh, and he said he’d bring you in an old game of his nephew’s tomorrow. Something about flying pigs’

  Gull stares at the screen only half listening. ‘How I wish I could find whatever it is I’m looking for.’ Then she suddenly remembers. ‘Oh, by the way, Shirley, I can’t find any files at all on the three farms. There must be files on the three properties somewhere. I mean I can find lists for the rest of the Bank’s customers easily enough. It’s as if the three of you don’t even exist.’

  Shirley looks serious all of a sudden. ‘That’s strange,’ she says. Then she laughs nervously. ‘Maybe I should check my credit card. I got it through this Bank. Hold on, I’ll check with the tellers at the front.’

  Within a few moments, Shirley is back looking shocked. ‘Well, that is very strange,’ she says.

  ‘What?’ Gull asks.

  ‘The limit on my credit card has been reduced. Which means Ted and I’ve got exactly $22.50 to live on until my pay next week. And I’ve still got to buy petrol on the way home. Now how am I going to manage?’ Shirley sits down suddenly on the nearest chair, her heart sinking. ‘And then there’s the auction on Saturday.’

  Just then, Gull looks up and catches sight of the bank manager who is on his way out. He’s looking hard at Shirley, a wintry gleam in his eye. Then he strides out of the Bank with a spring in his step.

  ‘Shirley, you need to get me into his office.’

  ‘What?’ Shirley murmurs, still thinking about her credit card.

  ‘Shirley, this is important,’ she says pulling at her sleeve. ‘I need to get into the bank manager’s office.’