Sheep on the Fourth Floor

by Leonie Thorpe

  Constable Porter smiled. ‘Good job,’ he said.

  In the car, nobody dared to speak. Duggie drove on, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, braced for the shriek of sirens and red flashing lights. It was several minutes before Anna dared to speak.

  ‘Can anyone explain what just happened there?’ she said. Her hands had only just stopped shaking but she still couldn’t trust her stomach not to heave at any moment.

  ‘He knew,’ said Duggie.

  ‘What do you mean “He knew”?’ Anna replied.

  ‘Well, anyone else would be highly suspicious of three kids roving around the streets at two in the morning with a bandaged sheep,’ Duggie explained. ‘He must have known about Rom. He must have known we were rescuing him.’

  ‘That was Lloyd’s dad,’ Kurt croaked from the front seat. ‘Maybe Lloyd told him about it; I dunno.’

  ‘Well, whatever his reason was, he saw Rom and pretended not to,’ said Duggie.

  ‘If he knew we were rescuing Rom from animal experimentation, then he mustn’t agree with that aspect of the law either,’ said Anna. She found this thought immensely encouraging.

  Nobody spoke for a while, weighing the gravity of what had just passed.

  Kurt put his hands up to his face and slapped his cheeks. ‘I can’t take any more shocks,’ he groaned.

  ‘Yeah, let’s ditch the sheep in its new home,’ said Duggie. The incident with Constable Porter had rattled his confidence and he suddenly felt quite tired.

  They all nodded in agreement and the car became silent again.

  ‘Harold?’ Anna spoke up from the back seat. ‘Your middle name is Harold?’

  Soon, three of the car’s occupants had tears of laughter rolling down their cheeks, while one bleated softly to himself, wondering what all the noise was about.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Duggie steered the car up a narrow, winding road. Out of the window Anna could see the street lights of Peraki twinkling in neat rows below them.

  ‘There it is!’ Anna said, as the car lights illuminated a crooked white sign. ‘SCENIC RESERVE’ it stated in peeling black letters.

  Duggie pulled the car into a gravel parking bay. In the glare of the lights, beyond the wire fence, he could see a flat grassy area. A weathered, lichen-encrusted picnic table was perched near the parking bay. It looked to Duggie as though nobody had picnicked here since the moon landing. Short, scrubby trees, mossy rocks and ferns edged the grass, and beyond them rose an extensive area of native bush. A handful of sheep were scattered near the far boundary.

  ‘All those for freedom, please disembark from the vehicle now,’ Duggie announced. He turned off the engine and immediately cursed. ‘Bah, I forgot about the flat battery! We might have to push-start it again.’

  Rom shifted around in the back seat and bleated softly, ‘Mmmmmahhhh.’

  ‘Are you sure we can leave him here?’ Kurt said in a worried voice. ‘What if someone comes looking for him? He’s easy to spot with his shaved bits.’

  ‘I doubt they’ll be setting up a full-scale sheep hunt,’ said Anna, rubbing Rom’s nose. ‘And anyway, he’ll look identical to the others in a couple of weeks once his wool has started to grow back.’

  ‘You’re sure the sheep in here aren’t just going to be carted off to the meatworks?’ said Kurt, thinking it would be a bummer to go to all this trouble only for Rom to be killed for some other reason.

  ‘No, brother,’ Duggie replied. ‘Look at the sheep over there—they’re positively ancient. Wouldn’t be good for anything except dog food.’

  ‘That’s right. These sheep have been put here by the council or someone to keep the grass down,’ Anna explained.

  Kurt didn’t hear Anna. He was registering the words Duggie had spoken. Duggie had called him ‘brother’. A strange feeling was making Kurt grin.

  ‘They’ll be well looked after,’ said Anna. ‘There’s a constant supply of fresh water and they’ll be shorn in the spring.’

  ‘Yeah, and a manicurist will come and clip their toenails every Thursday,’ said Duggie. He elbowed Kurt in the ribs. ‘Rom’ll be fine. Anna’s picked a good spot. Come on, we’ve got to get home. It’s nearly three o’clock in the morning and I’ve got a mess of sheep crap to clean out of the car before it starts composting up the carpet.’

  Duggie got out of the car and unlatched the tubular steel gate into the reserve. He pushed it halfway inwards. Anna and Kurt eased Rom out of the car, then Anna bent down and removed the cotton wool and tape from Rom’s stomach.

  ‘It’s stopped bleeding,’ she pointed out to Kurt. ‘The wound will heal itself now.’

  ‘I don’t need to see, thanks.’ Kurt gritted his teeth and felt a wave of revulsion pass over him.

  ‘You wouldn’t make a very good doctor, Kurt.’ Anna was amused by his squeamish stomach.

  ‘Thankfully my future patients will just bleed petrol and oil and brake fluid,’ Kurt remarked. ‘Now that I can handle.’

  Anna laughed. She led Rom towards the open gate and Kurt walked beside her.

  She said, ‘I suppose you should know that I’ve forgiven you.’

  Kurt looked puzzled.

  ‘For taking my watch,’ Anna explained. ‘With what you’ve done tonight, you’ve more than earned my respect back.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Kurt smiled. ‘That means a lot.’

  As they led Rom nearer the reserve gate, Kurt reflected how crazily his life had been seesawing. He didn’t think he’d ever climb back from the pits of despair he’d felt at the police station but now his mood bordered on elation. He had a feeling he’d crammed a year’s worth of life’s lessons into the last couple of weeks.

  ‘You know, I think freeing Rom is just the beginning,’ said Anna as they stepped through the gate onto the dewy grass.

  ‘Uh-oh, this sounds ominous,’ said Kurt.

  Anna said, ‘Once you know about something, it’s impossible to ignore it. Like finding out there’s all sorts of animals being mistreated not only in your own town, but all over the world. You can’t just…do nothing.’

  ‘Plenty of people ignore it,’ Kurt pointed out. ‘In fact, almost everyone does.’

  ‘Yeah, and what can you do anyway?’ Duggie cut in. ‘Liberate all the sheep in labs all over the country? That’s still four thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine to go. And what about the rats and rabbits?’

  ‘There’s got to be change,’ said Anna. ‘We’ve got to change the rules to protect the animals.’

  ‘But how do you do that?’ Kurt asked.

  ‘You’d have to become a lawyer,’ Duggie suggested.

  ‘No, lawyers just interpret the written law; they can’t do much to change it,’ Anna replied.

  Kurt asked, ‘So how then?’

  ‘There’s only one way,’ said Anna. She cleared her throat: ‘I’m going to have to go into politics.’

  Kurt and Duggie considered this for a moment.

  Then Kurt said, ‘Sounds like a girl with a passion.’

  Duggie looked at his watch. ‘Well, let’s hope the future prime minister of this country is still humble enough to help push-start a car.’

  Rom hadn’t felt scared during the ride in the car. His brain was far too stimulated to experience fear. Instead he felt invigorated. Something different was happening for the first time in months. There were things to look at, smell, feel and taste. When the car stopped and he was let out into the cool dark night, his brain went into overload: GrassMossNightStarsSheepSpaceAir-TreesStonesWaterWindCloverEarthMudLeaf.

  The young people led him through a gate and took off his collar. The girl patted his head and knelt down beside him.

  ‘Goodbye, Rom. Have a nice life,’ she whispered in his ear.

  Then they turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the middle of the reserve.

  Rom stood breathing in the sharp air, the air that seemed so BIG and busy. The sense of space around him, after being confined for so long, made him feel li
ke he had shrunk in size to a small speck. It made his legs feel even more unsteady. Then Rom lowered his head. GrassCloverDandelion! He took a nibble and the world seemed to morph around him, to accommodate him perfectly. This was his place. He fitted into it.

  ‘MMMAAAAAAAHH!’ Rom let out a wild bleat of delight.

  ‘Mmmaaaaaaaahhhh,’ a voice replied from near the scrubby bush.

  Rom’s ears pricked up. He hadn’t heard that sound for a very long time; the sound of other sheep. He began to limp towards it. Suddenly he stopped. He turned and looked back at the three young people who were standing and watching him from the fence.

  ‘MMMMMMMAAAAAAAHHHHHH!’ he called out, then he turned and trotted off towards the flock.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ‘The most extraordinary thing happened at work today,’ said Dr Penelope Pascoe to her husband. She stirred trim milk into her cup of strong coffee. ‘Our experimental sheep has gone missing.’

  ‘Missing?’ said Peter, looking over the top of his medical journal. ‘What do you mean missing? What happened to it?’

  ‘No idea,’ Penelope shrugged. ‘Nobody knows. It was there on Sunday afternoon, but when Jeff went in on Monday morning, it was gone.’

  ‘Good lord,’ Peter muttered with a frown. ‘That’s very odd.’

  ‘No trace of it. Just poof! Gone.’ Penelope waved her hand in the air.

  Peter put the journal on the table. ‘Well, it’s got to be animal rights activists.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Penelope shook her head. ‘They like to make a public spectacle, but there’s been no indication of that. No signs of forced entry either.’

  ‘So there’ll be a full inquiry?’ Peter asked.

  ‘Good God, no. It’s all been hushed up. Too much of a delicate issue to involve the police, who would no doubt involve the media. Imagine the uproar—a sheep in the hospital. No, it’s easier to just forget it.’ Penelope sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘The security system is obviously faulty though,’ she continued. ‘They logged my card being used in the middle of the night.’

  ‘Ridiculous,’ Peter scoffed. ‘Bloody electronic gadgetry. You can’t rely on it.’

  ‘Thankfully it’s not going to have much impact on our research,’ said Penelope. ‘And Jeff is still going to finish his thesis on time.’ She turned and looked out the window. ‘I’ll be putting in a recommendation that we don’t use sheep again though. They’re far too sensitive for the job.’

  Peter looked at Penelope over the rims of his glasses. ‘Have you told Anna the sheep is missing?’

  ‘No, I haven’t.’ Penelope shook her head. ‘The poor girl seemed quite upset that he was there in the first place. I don’t think his complete disappearance will make her feel any better. I mean, it’s unlikely he’s found his way to some lovely green pasture, or wherever she thought he should be.’ Penelope sipped her coffee. ‘I don’t think it would pay to mention the sheep to her again.’

  Peter grunted his agreement and returned his attention to his journal.

  Penelope stared out the window for a long time, deep in thought. She drained the last of her coffee and turned to Peter. ‘Did you notice anything strange about her this morning?’

  ‘Anna, you mean?’

  ‘Yes. I thought she was distinctly different.’ Penelope narrowed her eyes. ‘Not physically different, but more, I don’t know…grown up.’

  Peter shrugged. ‘She’s not a child any more, Pen.’

  ‘No.’ Penelope sighed and shook her head. ‘I suppose she’s not.’

  In a field of scrubby bush that overlooked a small township, a flock of sheep grazed. The warm sun shone down onto their white, woolly backs. Two sheep dozed together in the shade under a gnarled kowhai tree. Another stood scratching its side against a broken fence post. One stood near an old cast-iron bathtub that had been converted into a drinking trough. It took a drink of the cold, clear water, then shook its head. As the sheep reached down to nibble on a dandelion, a sparrow flew down from a manuka tree and landed on its back. The wool on this sheep was thick and white, except for the wool around its stomach and leg, which was shorter, as though it had only recently grown. The sparrow poked around gently in the oily fleece and collected a beakful of loose wool. Then it hopped twice and flew back towards the manuka tree to line its nest full of eggs.

  Copyright

  HarperCollinsPublishers

  First published in 2010

  This edition published in 2010

  by HarperCollinsPublishers (New Zealand) Limited

  PO Box 1, Shortland Street, Auckland 1140

  Copyright © Leonie Thorpe 2010

  Leonie Thorpe asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.

  HarperCollinsPublishers

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  National Library of New Zealand Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

  Thorpe, Leonie, 1969-

  The sheep on the fourth floor / Leonie Thorpe.

  ISBN 978 1 8695 0815 9 (pbk.)

  ISBN 978 0 7304 5029 0 (epub)

  [1. Laboratory animals—Fiction. 2. Animals—Treatment—Fiction.

  3. Sheep—Fiction. 4. Ethics—Fiction. 5. Secrets—Fiction.]

  I. Title.

  NZ823.3—dc 22