by Rose Impey
This immediately brought out the competitive streak in Leo, Lamar and Latisha. They each privately promised themselves, in addition to winning their own events, to grab the big prize too. Mama Llama beamed at her children, but then gave Liberty a pleading look.
Liberty felt a twinge of guilt. She hated to upset her mama, but a girl had to do what a girl had to do – and escaping was in her blood. Surely Mama Llama must have known that all those years ago, or why would she have given her daughter a name that means freedom?
Later, when Liberty slipped out of the llama enclosure to see Lewie, she found him still feeling a little anxious.
“It’s just cold feet,” she reminded him.
Even if it were just cold feet, Lewie didn’t want to feel like this for days to come. The Best Guard Llama event wouldn’t be held until Saturday – the last day of the fair. That was five days away. Lewie loved his flock and he had faith in them, but if the sheep didn’t start working together soon, and if the lambs did not conquer their nerves, he really couldn’t see how they would ever win the prize.
For Lewie, who loved to perform and had always thrived on it, this felt like the most important performance of his life.
At that moment, unbeknown to him, Lewie was being discussed around the coyotes’ campfire. Not that any of the coyotes had met Lewie yet, apart from Captain and his nephew, Cupcake. And Captain still felt uneasy when he remembered his past experience with Lewie, so he was keeping quiet on the subject.
The conversation had started with a general discussion about the famous Guard Llamas in the county. Certain names were mentioned, like the mighty Hadrian, Farmer Hardman’s Guard Llama. Hadrian was a huge, powerful animal – and pretty fierce. Coyotes for miles around knew to give him a wide berth.
“He snapped my old dad’s tail clean off,” Clutterbuck told the others as the coyotes shared stories of encounters with Hadrian and other Guard Llamas like him.
Crazycoot had lost half his tail too, but that had been shot off by Farmer Blunkett’s gun. His Guard Llama, Blunderbuss, might be getting old, but he was another llama the coyotes tried to avoid.
Clutterbuck asked if anyone had had a run-in yet with Farmer Palmer’s new one. But the coyotes shook their heads.
“Well, he won’t be as fierce as The Terminator, that’s for certain,” Clutterbuck said firmly.
And everyone agreed.
“Don’t be too sure about that,” Captain muttered. The coyotes looked up, expecting more information, but Captain went quiet.
“What’s up? Llama got your tongue?” laughed Clutterbuck.
“Yeah, got the jitters, Grandpa?” asked Crazycoot nastily. “Don’t worry, you stay back behind us. We’ll protect you, won’t we, lads?”
The younger ones laughed openly at the old coyote.
Captain took a deep breath and counted to ten. Let them laugh at him all they liked. He who laughs last, he reminded himself, laughs longest. Yes, siree.
n Wednesday morning, as dawn was breaking, Farmer Palmer began to load his animals for the much anticipated County Fair. Truck by truck they set off in convoy. Mama and Papa Llama watched them go.
Mama Llama’s chest swelled with emotion: partly pride, but a little envy too. She wished she could have gone and seen her children take part in their events. But she had to accept that her own and Papa Llama’s show days were over.
By mid-morning all the animals were in their pens at the County Fair. A chorus of bleating and baaa-ing and braying and honking could be heard as a huge wave of excitement spread throughout the livestock yard.
Lewie was relieved to see that he wasn’t housed too far away from his family although, as Guard Llama, he was on the opposite side of the yard with all the other Guard Llamas, each with his own flock of sheep.
In the next pen, Lewie was rather nervous to see a huge, powerfully built llama who looked much older than him. Lewie bravely tried to introduce himself. “Hello, my name’s Lewie …” he began. But the big llama lifted his nose and turned away, refusing even to acknowledge him. Lewie felt a little crushed.
Throughout the morning, the llama continued to ignore Lewie, although he talked happily to the two llamas on his other side. They were clearly all old friends. Lewie soon discovered that the huge llama was called Hadrian, but his nickname was The Wall. Lewie could easily see where that name had come from.
One of the other llamas was called Blunderbuss and belonged to Farmer Blunkett. The third, much older llama was called Wellington.
A couple of times Lewie looked over to find the three Guard Llamas watching him and sniggering.
“What would The Terminator say if he could see the specimen they’ve replaced him with?” Hadrian muttered, shaking his head.
“An absolute disgrace, that’s what it is,” Blunderbuss and Wellington agreed.
Lewie tried to ignore them, but he felt a little disappointed not to have made any new friends here. So he was pleased when Nelson, another Guard Llama, arrived and was put into the empty pen next to his. Nelson belonged to Farmer Nettles and, luckily, was friendlier than the others.
“I used to be in that gang, you know,” Nelson said, nodding towards the other llamas, “before I lost my eye. Now they treat me like an outcast.”
“How did you lose it?” Lewie asked gently.
“Coyotes,” Nelson said sadly. “I put up a good fight, but it cost me this eye.”
Lewie felt like the new boy among all these more experienced, battle-scarred older llamas. The idea of him stealing the prize for Best Guard Llama was looking like a joke.
Nelson told Lewie that Hadrian had won the prize for years. “Somehow he always wins,” Nelson said gloomily. “Rules get bent – or broken … accidents happen … animals have been known to disappear! It would be a foolish llama that ran up against The Wall!” he warned Lewie. “Take my advice: keep your head down like me and forget all about prizes. Nowadays, I just want a quiet life,” he added, sighing. “I’d like to retire, like The Terminator.”
Lewie was glad to have made a friend at last, but he found Nelson a little … downbeat. Still, losing an eye would make any llama a bit sad, he thought. After hearing Nelson’s story about Hadrian, Lewie was feeling even more nervous.
Later in the day, Lewie was glad to see Millie come back. She fussed over the animals, checking their feed and water several times before she was satisfied. Farmer Palmer was surrounded by a group of other farmers, teasing one another about who had the best – and the worst – livestock. They all looked Lewie up and down; no one seemed impressed.
“He’s very young, isn’t he,” said Farmer Nettles.
“Barely out of nappies,” joked Farmer Blunkett.
“A bit skinny,” said another. “What’re you feeding him on? Birdseed?”
“My Blunderbuss would make four of him,” Farmer Blunkett concluded.
Farmer Palmer wasn’t in the least bit bothered by their jokes. “You’ll see, Lewie’s a llama in a million,” he told them all.
Just then, Farmer Hardman arrived, along with two of his farm workers. He agreed that Lewie would be no competition for his llama, Hadrian.
“I’m sure one day Lewie’ll grow into a wonderful Guard Llama,” he told Farmer Palmer, “… maybe in twenty years or so!”
His two workmen laughed loudly as if their boss had made a great joke.
Lewie wasn’t amused.
After the farmers had left, the two workmen hung around, leaning against the gate of Lewie’s pen, staring at him. It made Lewie feel very self-conscious. The bigger man, called Bolt, ate his way through a whole packet of biscuits. The smaller man, called Dolt, had a scruffy ponytail tied back with a piece of red string, the frayed end of which he liked to chew. The men talked in low voices, although it didn’t seem to occur to them that Lewie might understand what they were saying.
“No worries here, then,” said Bolt, looking around the yard at all the Guard Llamas.
“What about this new one?” Dolt asked, nod
ding at Lewie. “He’s an unknown quantity.”
“Look at him,” laughed Bolt. “Wet, weedy, wimpy. No worries for us there.”
“Still … remember what the boss said,” Dolt reminded him.
“I know – whatever it takes,” Bolt said menacingly.
The two men left then, but not before Bolt had thrown his screwed-up biscuit packet into Lewie’s pen, leaving it for Millie to clear up.
Oh no, Lewie didn’t like the look of those two – not one little bit.
Later, as his flock settled down for the night, Lewie couldn’t help overhearing Hadrian bullying his own sheep. Hadrian had caught one or two chatting to Ginger and the others. He butted them away from the fence.
“There’s to be no mixing with this riffraff,” Hadrian warned the sheep. “They’re the competition, remember. Any of you dare to let me down and there’ll be consequences,” he hissed threateningly. The sheep huddled together, trembling.
“Baaa! He’s a big bully, just like The Terminator was,” Ginger bleated. “Riffraff, indeed! Wait till the competition. We’ll show him.”
“Sho-o-ow hi-i-im,” the other sheep agreed.
“Still, I feel a bit sorry for them,” Shelley admitted. “I mean, if they lose...”
Lewie felt sorry for them too, but feelings were running high in his own camp. The lambs were getting overexcited again. So he gathered the whole flock around him for a little chat, to try to settle their nerves and keep them focused.
“You’re all so talented … and hardworking … and absolutely brilliant,” Lewie told them, “but in the end, it’s not about winning, it’s about doing the best you can. We’re a team that always pulls together. Look what we achieved last time when we stood together, in the face of terrible odds,” he said, referring to the night of the coyote attack. The sheep and lambs nodded. Recalling that night made them feel much more powerful.
“Sing us a song, Lewie,” some of the sheep suggested.
“Do us a dance,” begged the lambs.
Lewie happily entertained his flock until one by one they settled down to sleep. As he lay down himself, he pretended not to hear the mean remarks the other Guard Llamas were making.
“Singing! Dancing! Never seen the likes of it!”
“Embarrassing exhibition!”
“That llama deserves a dishonourable discharge,” brayed Wellington.
Lewie ignored them again. Relax now, he told himself. With all our talent, what could possibly go wrong?
Sadly, the answer was – plenty!
Right now, not one but two of Lewie’s enemies were hatching their own plans to make sure that he and his flock would never win the Best Guard Llama prize.
In a scruffy caravan, just outside the showground, Bolt and Dolt were eating hamburgers and drinking bottles of beer as they worked out a dirty-tricks campaign against Lewie, just in case they should need it.
“Can’t take any chances. That’s what the boss said: whatever it takes,” mumbled Bolt, stuffing half a hamburger into his mouth as he spoke.
“I could scare him off if I had to,” said Dolt, burping.
“No need, this plan’ll work. Even if his sheep win the obedience section, his lambs can’t win the agility prize if there ain’t no lambs left,” grinned Bolt, wolfing down the other half of his hamburger. “And that means no Best Guard Llama prize.”
“Foolproof,” agreed Dolt.
The two men burped at the same time, then laughed out loud at their own cleverness.
Just one hundred metres from that caravan, Lewie’s other enemies, the coyotes, were returning to their temporary burrow. They’d been out on a recce, skulking around the showground, checking out the security, sizing up the Guard Llamas and scoring them out of ten.
The coyotes still judged Hadrian their biggest challenge.
“He may not be as young as he used to be …” one said.
“But he’s still formidable,” the others agreed.
With The Terminator gone, Hadrian was definitely top of the leader board with nine points. Blunderbuss and Wellington were well past their best. In fact, all the coyotes agreed that those two llamas were only worth seven points each. Nelson, with just one eye, was a complete joke now, scoring a puny four points. But the llama with the lowest score – with one point – was Lewie.
The coyotes had been passing the animal pens, hidden in the shadows, just as Lewie started his song and dance numbers for his flock. They were still laughing about it. If there was one thing they all agreed upon, it was, without doubt, that Lewie was the most ridiculous, least scary llama they’d ever encountered.
“Taking his sheep would be almost too easy,” Clutterbuck declared.
“Like snatching candy from a baby,” Crazycoot said greedily.
It was soon decided – Lewie’s flock would be their first target. They’d clean out those lambs faster than you could blink!
Despite his determination to stay silent, Captain found himself saying, “You shouldn’t underestimate him, just because he’s young and new.”
This only brought more ridicule down on the old coyote’s head. There was muttering about “… retiring him off…” and “… old coyotes losing their marbles …” so Captain said nothing more.
Captain was anxious not to encourage Cupcake. The minute the young cub had seen the lambs singing and dancing along with Lewie, he’d been hooked again. He was already trying to copy their moves. Captain chased the cub off to bed with some serious words about coyotes behaving like coyotes. He told the youngster sternly, “Coyotes do not dance.”
Privately, Captain was still puzzled about this odd llama, Lewie. In the face of a much bigger coyote attack, he would be interested to see which Lewie would choose this time – fight or flight.
Fortunately, Lewie was unaware of the two plots that threatened his hopes and dreams. But when Liberty appeared outside his pen later, he did confide in her that he’d taken a real dislike to Farmer Hardman’s two workmen.
“I can’t exactly explain it,” he told her. “It’s just a … feeling.”
“You and your imagination,” Liberty told him. “It’s probably nothing at all. Anyway, what can they possibly do to you?”
Later, Liberty would remember those words and regret them.
As Lewie was settling down to sleep, he heard Nelson whisper in the dark. The older llama wanted to know all about his sister Liberty, how she managed to escape and then return to her pen so easily. When he learned that she did it every day, Nelson was full of admiration – and envy.
“If I could get out that easily I’d never come back,” he told Lewie. “I’d find a nice quiet field somewhere, out in the middle of nowhere, and retire. They wouldn’t see me for dust. It would be Hasta la vista! Au revoir!”
Lewie fell asleep with Nelson’s soft, grumbling words drifting over his head.
he next day, Thursday, was the first day of the County Fair and the day Leo, Lamar, Latisha and Liberty would be competing. Lewie envied his brothers and sisters getting their events over so quickly, until he looked across to their pen and saw how anxious they all seemed.
It wasn’t like Leo and Lamar or Latisha to be nervous. Their problem was usually an excess of confidence, but today anxiety was making them even more quarrelsome than usual.
“Give me some room,” Leo brayed loudly as he kicked out his legs, trying to warm up before his event – Strongest Llama in Show. It was a title Leo had held on to for three years. If he took it a fourth time, he’d surely be in the running for Best Llama in Show.
“I need room too!” honked Lamar, busily grooming himself. He was competing for Most Handsome Llama – naturally!
“You’d need an aircraft hanger to swing that bottom around,” snorted Leo.
“Tchhh! You’re both idiots,” Latisha snapped. All she needed right now was a bit of peace and quiet to steady her nerves, to try to remember her routines.
For weeks, Farmer Palmer’s wife had been training Latisha to move ches
s pieces across a board, to count up to ten, to spell simple words, to pick out cards with the answer to questions such as: How old are you? What’s your name? What day is it? She could even play a simple tune on a xylophone! Surely, if she won Most Intelligent Llama, she’d be the obvious choice for Best Llama in Show. Anyone with a brain must see that!
Even though the three didn’t entirely deserve his support, Lewie called over, “Hey, guys! Good luck for later. Break a leg!”
Leo and Lamar stopped and turned on Lewie.
“Oh, thanks a lot!” brayed Leo. “I bet you’d love that, if we broke a leg!”
“He’d like us out of the competition,” agreed Lamar.
“Now he’s the big Guard Llama,” scoffed Latisha.
The three llamas honked and brayed for a few minutes, working off all their own anxiety. When they finally quietened down, Liberty pointed out that Lewie had actually been trying to be nice.
“I really was,” Lewie said, stunned by their reaction. “You’re all bound to win. The important thing now is just to relax and … be yourselves.”
The three llamas felt a little foolish. They muttered something quietly so that it barely reached Lewie, but Liberty repeated it loudly. “They said, ‘Thanks, Lewie!’”
“Good luck to you too, Liberty!” Lewie added. His sister was entered for Best Newcomer. “You’ll knock the judge’s socks off.”
Farmer Palmer arrived then to give his llamas a final groom.
He led Leo out first and as they passed Lewie’s pen, Lewie leaned over and whispered in his brother’s ear, “Who’s the greatest? Leo’s the greatest!”
Leo smiled and walked tall as he strode into the arena. He felt invincible, like a giant. He pulled and pushed weights and carried heavy loads with ease. The judges soon voted him the strongest llama in his category. It was a drag that he would have to wait until the end of the week for Best Llama in Show to be judged, but Leo felt confident now that the big prize would be his. He swaggered back to his pen, wearing a huge red rosette.