the clipboard bloke fighting over Goliath at the shopping center.
“That's me,” yelled Goliath through a mouthful of grasshopper.
Limpy stared.
Not at his cousin being stretched on the screen. At the expression on the girl's face in the room now as she watched. Everyone on the screen looked angry or shocked or upset, including Goliath. But the girl's expression now, as she watched the chaos, was delighted, gleeful, ecstatic.
Suddenly Limpy understood.
She'd planned the whole thing. She'd taken him and Goliath to the shopping center on purpose to upset the bloke with the clipboard. To pay him back, probably for making her do something she didn't want to do.
She hadn't been doing them a favor; they'd been doing her one.
Boy, thought Limpy, perhaps Uncle Preston was right about not trusting humans.
The shopping center bit finished on the telly and Limpy saw the girl smiling down at him fondly. She didn't look selfish or dishonest. She just looked like a friendly human who'd rescued him twice.
Then Limpy realized what must have happened.
Of course, he thought. She didn't trick us. She just hasn't understood. She hasn't got it. She hasn't grasped that I want to be a mascot.
On a shelf above the telly, Limpy saw, was a set of the fluffy mascot toys.
He decided it was worth one more try.
He hopped up onto the shelf and sat between the platypus and the echidna, trying to look as much as possible like a mascot.
The girl laughed, lifted him back down, and offered him another grasshopper.
“Give up,” mumbled Goliath with his mouth full.
Limpy ignored him, hopped back up, and took his position again with the other mascots.
This time the girl didn't laugh.
She stared at him and the other mascots for a long time, frowning.
I think she's getting it, thought Limpy. I think she understands.
He decided she was.
What was it Uncle Roly had been saying just before he was flattened by that caravan?
“Life's a long, hard journey, young Limpy,” he'd said. “But you'll get more out of it if you look on the bright side.”
L impy looked on the bright side for the rest of that evening, and all night in front of the telly, and most of the next morning, right up until the girl put him and Goliath back into her bag, put the bag back under the bed, and left without them.
Limpy managed to open the bag zip from the inside and scramble out from under the bed just in time to hear a vehicle driving off.
“What's happening?” said Goliath, appearing next to Limpy with a mouthful of sock fluff.
“She's left us behind,” said Limpy, numb with disappointment.
Goliath thought about this.
“Perhaps she's just gone to get some more grasshoppers,” he said. “Or socks.”
“Nah,” said a voice.
Limpy looked up. Sitting on the bedspread was a mosquito.
“She's gone to the opening,” said the mosquito.
“What opening?” said Limpy. He thought of all the openings he'd seen on telly. Garage doors. Cats' mouths. Tubs of yogurt. The openings humans got in them when they were shot.
“The Games,” said the mosquito. “Opening ceremony. Big event. All the athletes'll be there. Huge crowd. Top feed.”
The mosquito sighed wistfully.
Limpy sighed mournfully. He couldn't believe it. She still hadn't understood. Here they were, a human and a cane toad who actually cared about each other, and he couldn't get one simple idea across to her.
It's hopeless, thought Limpy, crook leg aching with despair. I give up.
Who had he been kidding? How could one slightly squashed cane toad hope to change things that had been going on since the dawn of time?
Limpy opened his mouth to tell Goliath they were going home.
Before he could, the mosquito sighed again. “Makes me hungry just thinking about it, a feed like that.”
Limpy found himself thinking of Charm and whatshe'd be doing when she got hungry. Going down to the highway and having a feed there. A tiny target fixed in the headlights.
Suddenly his warts prickled with
“That's me,” yelled Goliath through a mouthful of grasshopper.
Limpy stared.
Not at his cousin being stretched on the screen. At the expression on the girl's face in the room now as she watched. Everyone on the screen looked angry or shocked or upset, including Goliath. But the girl's expression now, as she watched the chaos, was delighted, gleeful, ecstatic.
Suddenly Limpy understood.
She'd planned the whole thing. She'd taken him and Goliath to the shopping center on purpose to upset the bloke with the clipboard. To pay him back, probably for making her do something she didn't want to do.
She hadn't been doing them a favor; they'd been doing her one.
Boy, thought Limpy, perhaps Uncle Preston was right about not trusting humans.
The shopping center bit finished on the telly and Limpy saw the girl smiling down at him fondly. She didn't look selfish or dishonest. She just looked like a friendly human who'd rescued him twice.
Then Limpy realized what must have happened.
Of course, he thought. She didn't trick us. She just hasn't understood. She hasn't got it. She hasn't grasped that I want to be a mascot.
On a shelf above the telly, Limpy saw, was a set of the fluffy mascot toys.
He decided it was worth one more try.
He hopped up onto the shelf and sat between the platypus and the echidna, trying to look as much as possible like a mascot.
The girl laughed, lifted him back down, and offered him another grasshopper.
“Give up,” mumbled Goliath with his mouth full.
Limpy ignored him, hopped back up, and took his position again with the other mascots.
This time the girl didn't laugh.
She stared at him and the other mascots for a long time, frowning.
I think she's getting it, thought Limpy. I think she understands.
He decided she was.
What was it Uncle Roly had been saying just before he was flattened by that caravan?
“Life's a long, hard journey, young Limpy,” he'd said. “But you'll get more out of it if you look on the bright side.”
L impy looked on the bright side for the rest of that evening, and all night in front of the telly, and most of the next morning, right up until the girl put him and Goliath back into her bag, put the bag back under the bed, and left without them.
Limpy managed to open the bag zip from the inside and scramble out from under the bed just in time to hear a vehicle driving off.
“What's happening?” said Goliath, appearing next to Limpy with a mouthful of sock fluff.
“She's left us behind,” said Limpy, numb with disappointment.
Goliath thought about this.
“Perhaps she's just gone to get some more grasshoppers,” he said. “Or socks.”
“Nah,” said a voice.
Limpy looked up. Sitting on the bedspread was a mosquito.
“She's gone to the opening,” said the mosquito.
“What opening?” said Limpy. He thought of all the openings he'd seen on telly. Garage doors. Cats' mouths. Tubs of yogurt. The openings humans got in them when they were shot.
“The Games,” said the mosquito. “Opening ceremony. Big event. All the athletes'll be there. Huge crowd. Top feed.”
The mosquito sighed wistfully.
Limpy sighed mournfully. He couldn't believe it. She still hadn't understood. Here they were, a human and a cane toad who actually cared about each other, and he couldn't get one simple idea across to her.
It's hopeless, thought Limpy, crook leg aching with despair. I give up.
Who had he been kidding? How could one slightly squashed cane toad hope to change things that had been going on since the dawn of time?
Limpy opened his mouth to tell Goliath they were going home.
Before he could, the mosquito sighed again. “Makes me hungry just thinking about it, a feed like that.”
Limpy found himself thinking of Charm and whatshe'd be doing when she got hungry. Going down to the highway and having a feed there. A tiny target fixed in the headlights.
Suddenly his warts prickled with
Similar Books
