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Playground Pets

Page 3

by Rebecca Johnson


  We’re on our hands and knees looking under plants and running our fingers through the mulch. Miss Fine is pacing up and down on the concrete in her yellow high heels.

  At first I think we’ll find him pretty quickly – he’s not a little lizard, he’s about 50 centimetres long – but as time goes on and it gets closer to the morning bell, I start to think of other possibilities.

  Chelsea is obviously thinking the same way. ‘He couldn’t have been caught by something, could he?’ she whispers to me as we search.

  ‘Surely not,’ I answer with a groan. ‘It would have to be something huge to eat a lizard the size of Digby. I’m sure he’s just buried himself. But where?’

  Miss Fine has started to fill the water bottles herself as the Green Team are all busy lizard-hunting. She keeps looking up at us and biting her bottom lip nervously. I can see she’s worrying about telling Mrs Kuss one of her favourite lizards is lost.

  ‘Miss Fine,’ I call out, ‘can you please pour one bucket of water into the tops of the three earthworm farms behind you, so we can harvest the worm tea in the break?’

  Miss Fine nods slowly and purses her lips as she gingerly lifts one edge of the lid to the first worm farm.

  The first bell goes and we all have to go to our classes. What a disastrous start to the day!

  ‘I’m going to ask Mr Stirk if I can stay and keep looking,’ suggests Adam. ‘I’m sure he’ll understand it’s an emergency.’

  A few of the other boys nod. ‘We’ll ask our teachers, too,’ Liam says.

  They bolt off to see if they’re allowed to keep looking. I know Chelsea and I won’t be able to miss class because we have our spelling test and then we have music straight after that. We’re never allowed to miss music lessons.

  ‘At least the area is roped off,’ says Chelsea. ‘And I’m certain he won’t choose to cross the path and allow himself to be out in the open. He’d be seen too easily. You know how he always sneaks from one bit of cover to another.’

  Chelsea is really very observant about animal behaviour. No wonder she is nearly world-famous.

  We come back at recess, but despite the boys spending two hours searching the garden, there is still no sign of Digby. The boys are filthy and exhausted and the garden looks like it has been attacked by rampaging bandicoots.

  I go inside to check on Delilah and her baby. She’s still arching her back and there are no more babies. This is not a good sign. Once they start having their babies, lizards usually have them fairly quickly. I’m glad Mum’s coming again this afternoon. Being nearly a vet can be pretty hectic!

  Chelsea and the boys are still out looking in the garden.

  ‘Maybe we should do the worm tea,’ I say to Miss Fine when I walk back outside. ‘It’s market day tomorrow and we’ll be really busy. Mrs Kuss always likes to have it done the day before.’

  We bend down to fill the empty milk cartons with the brown water that runs from the tap at the bottom of the worm farms.

  ‘So what exactly is this stuff?’ asks Miss Fine.

  ‘Well, we call it worm tea, but actually it’s worm wee,’ I tell her honestly.

  Miss Fine’s hand slips on the tap and worm wee splashes onto the concrete below . . . and all over her bright yellow shoes.

  Miss Fine is, once again, lost for words.

  Chelsea comes down from the garden just in time to see the look of horror on Miss Fine’s face. ‘It’s okay, Miss Fine, we’ll find him, don’t worry!’

  Miss Fine just whimpers quietly. I get the feeling she was thinking about her shoes, not Digby.

  Chelsea turns to me and says, ‘Juliet, this just doesn’t make sense. Where can he be?’

  ‘What a disaster!’ I say. ‘We’ve lost Digby and I think Delilah might be in real trouble!’

  ‘This is all happening because I’m here,’ says Miss Fine. ‘Mrs Kuss would know what to do for all these things, but I’ve got no idea.’ She slumps down against the rock wall and dabs at her shoes with a tissue.

  Mr Bartlett comes around the corner. ‘How’s it all going, Miss Fine?’ he asks.

  ‘That was a great idea filling up the worm tea today, Miss Fine,’ I say.

  Mr Bartlett looks up at the boys scouring the garden.

  ‘They’re looking for weeds so it’s tidy when Mrs Kuss comes back,’ says Chelsea brightly. ‘Miss Fine thought it would be a nice idea.’

  ‘Good on you, Miss Fine, you’re fitting right in,’ says Mr Bartlett. ‘I think we’ll be able to find lots more work for you here.’ Then he continues on his way.

  ‘I can’t imagine there would ever be many weeds in the garden with a Green Team like yours,’ says Miss Fine.

  ‘Weeds – that’s it!’ yells Chelsea suddenly.

  We both look at her in confusion and the boys stop what they’re doing.

  ‘Weeds made me think of it,’ she says. ‘Where do we put the weeds?’

  ‘Well, der,’ says Mason, ‘in the compost bin.’

  ‘Where it is dark and cosy and WARM!’ says Chelsea. ‘And just the place a lizard would love!’

  We all race up to the compost bin and lift the lid. There is a space at the bottom that lets the soil out when it’s broken down.

  ‘Boys, can you lift the whole thing up, please?’ asks Chelsea.

  Up goes the drum, out fall leaves, weeds, grass clippings, dirt and a big, fat Digby.

  ‘Digby!’ we all scream. He just blinks at us and flashes his blue tongue.

  Each of us hug him and pass him on.

  ‘Chelsea, no wonder you are nearly a world-famous animal trainer and groomer!’ I laugh.

  Chelsea and I run all the way back to the science room at three o’clock after our last class. When we open the door, Mum is already at Delilah’s tank. Surprisingly, so is Miss Fine. Mum turns to me as we come in. At first I can’t read her expression.

  ‘Is she okay?’ I whisper.

  ‘They all are,’ smiles Mum. ‘All ten of them.’

  Chelsea and I race over to see.

  Lovely Delilah has babies scattered all around her. Already they are exploring, eating and drinking. They are sooo cute, and exact miniatures of their mother.

  ‘You are so clever, Delilah,’ I tell her. ‘Mrs Kuss is going to be so excited tomorrow!’

  ‘One, two, three, four, five,’ counts Chelsea, ‘six, seven, eight, nine . . . where is number ten?’

  ‘Here,’ says Miss Fine quietly, and she opens her hands to show the tiny baby lizard nestled happily in them.

  I look at Miss Fine and I can’t get the smile off my face.

  She just nods at me. Once again, she seems to be lost for words.

  I think maybe, just maybe, Miss Fine might be starting to love animals like I do.

  The primary school I teach at has a special science program and a huge science room and garden for the students to discover all kinds of things. Last year, our blue-tongue lizard Delilah had seventeen babies! We were very lucky to see them being born. We grow lots of vegetables in our gardens and the students and teachers all play a part in making our school a place where everyone cares about the environment, and the plants and creatures within it.

  As a little girl, I always wanted to be a vet. I had mice, guinea pigs, dogs, goldfish, sea snails, sea monkeys and tadpoles as pets. I loved looking after my friends’ pets when they went on holidays, and every Saturday I helped out at a pet store. Now that I’m all grown up, I have the best job in the world. I get to draw lots of animals for children’s books and for animated TV shows. In my studio I have two dogs, Jed and Evie, and two cats, Bosco and Kobe, who love to watch me draw.

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  First published by Penguin Group (Australia), 2014

  Text copyright © Rebecca Johnson, 2014

  Illustrations copyright © Kyla May Productions, 2014

  The moral rights of the author and illustrator has been asserted.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  Cover and text design by Karen Scott © Penguin Group (Australia)

  Illustrations by Kyla May Productions

  Colour separation by Splitting Image Colour Studio, Clayton, Victoria

  ISBN 978-1-74348-454-8

  puffin.com.au

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