Puppy Pie (4 page)

Tom doesn't need to ask twice. In a flash, the screen door is banging behind them as he and Gull run to the big shed. In the distance, they can make out Useless hanging over the low fence of the puppy pen. As they get closer, he lopes over to his latest offspring. The puppies, in turn, stumble and fall over on their new little legs, get up unsteadily and stumble all over again. In a corner, Jam stands up, stretches and gives Useless a welcoming lick on his nose. He wags his tail happily as Jam strolls around him purring. Then she lies down and several puppies crawl over and begin to feed from her.

‘It's amazing that Useless and Jam get on so well,' Gull says as they look at the puppies, Useless nuzzling the youngest. ‘I mean, who would believe that a cat could feed puppies once she's had her kittens?'

‘It's not common but it does happen, Mum says. And she says Jam is so maternal that Useless is almost doing her a favour, fathering all these puppies. Her own kittens are grown up and keep us from being overrun by mice.'

Gull looks thoughtfully at Jam and Useless. ‘They sure are an odd couple,' she muses shaking her head.

‘Dad says if animals grow up together, they get used to each other, and just get on. Maybe they don't know they're not supposed to like each other.'

‘Mmm, could be,' Gull says.

‘Even the mice are friendly,' Tom says.

‘You're kidding.'

‘Nope. I've got a pet one inside in a cage and sometimes I forget to close the door. You'd think she'd run off but she seems happy enough. And Jam just keeps away. So, no problem.' Tom leans down and picks up a warm white and tan pup.

‘What a funny looking puppy,' Gull says.

‘Well her mother's pretty new to the district, so Useless thought he'd go over and say g'day. And this is the result: a South American mother and an Australian father.' Then, Tom turns the placid puppy upside down, examining it carefully before putting it back in the pen.

‘What are you looking for, Tom?'

‘Just looking for signs of pastry. Nope, can't see any hanging off her ears or tail,' he says seriously, as if he's a judge in the Easter Show's best dog competition.

‘Oh, stop it,' Gull says ‘You'll never let me forget about puppy pie.'

‘Nope,' Tom says grinning. ‘Come on Useless. We're going for a walk. It'll do you good after all that cake you ate.'

Gull frowns, ‘You mean you ate. Useless only got the crumbs.'

‘I think crumbs are far more fattening than the whole cake,' Tom says trying to look serious.

Shaking her head, Gull laughs.

Tom tries again. ‘Come on Useless. Your puppies will still be here when we get back. It's not like anyone's going to run off with them.'

Gull stops. ‘Mmm,' she murmurs, catching up to Tom.

‘Mmm what?'

‘Oh, nothing,' she says breezily. ‘Just an idea! Come on Useless,' she says and slaps her thighs. He looks at her forlornly, his head cocked on one side. ‘He looks so sad,' Gull says. ‘He really doesn't want to leave his puppies. I know,' she says brightly. Racing back and reaching in, she tenderly picks up one of the latest arrivals, a sleepy well fed male. Immediately, Useless jumps over the fence and stands by Gull looking up into her face. She proffers the puppy that he nuzzles happily. Then she picks up another one, and hands it to Tom. Useless stands beside Tom wagging his tail.

‘We can take them with us, can't we?' Gull asks. ‘Then Useless is bound to come too.'

Tom nods. He notices his parents with Jimmy and Ted talking at the back of the shed. ‘Dad,' he shouts, ‘just taking Gull to show her the crop up close.'

‘Good idea,' Harry says waving before putting his head back into the talk with the others. ‘And take your hats.'

Tom yanks two straw hats off a hook and plonks one on Gull's head and one on his own.

In no time, Tom and Gull with a puppy each and Useless, are ambling towards the gate of the nearest paddock. Tom opens the gate and closes it once they're through.

‘I know what you're going to say next,' Gull says. ‘Always leave the gate the way you found it.'

‘Right,' Tom grins. ‘Otherwise if you've got livestock, they might get out or be locked in. I'm impressed, Gull. You might look too pale for the country but I reckon we could make you into a farm girl.'

‘If I could have a computer on the farm, I'd be the perfect farm girl,' she laughs.

‘Then you can stay here forever.'

‘Huh?'

‘When we knew you were coming up for sure, Dad finally went and bought a new, second hand computer.'

‘Great!'

‘And we've got the Internet. Dad's says it's got enough memory for anything we'd ever want to do. He said he got it so he could do all the accounts and keep track of any livestock through it. But Mum ends up doing all that stuff. Oh, and we use it for homework too. But to be honest, I reckon Dad got it so he can trace his family tree; he's very proud of being a Hepplewhite.'

‘Aren't you?'

‘Oh sure,' Tom says kicking a clod of dirt as they stroll along towards the rise, the sun heating up the tall, lush green hemp either side of them. ‘It's just that it's such a big responsibility. I mean, we're the fifth generation of farmers on this land, and Dad wants to make sure it stays in the family.'

‘Why wouldn't it?' Gull asks.

‘Well for one thing, Jake doesn't want to be a farmer.'

‘Oh? What does he want to be?'

‘He wants to be a top chef in the city in a big, smart restaurant. In fact, he really wants his own big, smart restaurant, the best in the city.'

‘Well, that's alright, isn't it?'

‘Yeah but I reckon Dad wants one of us to run the farm until the next generation takes over.'

‘Well, what about you, Tom?'

‘You know, I'd like to travel the world for a bit, maybe a year or so. Or I could become a foreign correspondent. I love the farm but I don't know whether I love it enough to spend the rest of my life here.'

‘What about Lucy?'

‘Lucy loves the farm more than anything. Anything except painting that is.'

‘So she really wants to be an artist?'

‘Yup.'

‘Well, couldn't she do both? Be a farmer? And be an artist too?'

‘Dad thinks it'll be Jake or me, seeing we're the Hepplewhite men in the family.'

Gull shakes her head and frowns. ‘Tom Hepplewhite, girls can run a farm just as well as boys. So there,' she says stomping ahead of him with her puppy.

Tom laughs and runs after her. ‘You know, if you had brothers Gull, you wouldn't be nearly as much fun.'

‘What do you mean?' Gull asks looking around for some place to put the puppy down; her arms are starting to ache from carrying the chubby little thing.

‘It's just that we can tease you all day long and watch you get so het up.'

‘But why do boys tease all the time?'

‘I don't know. It's fun.'

‘Boys!'

‘We only tease people we like,' Tom grins. He looks over at the hemp they've been walking beside. ‘Let's walk through here,' he says. ‘There's a dip in the middle and we can leave the puppies in there for a while. Useless'll look after them. Anyway, he's panting from running through the crop so he'll be happy to flop down with his offspring. Then you and I can walk to the rise and get the puppies on the way back.'

‘Good idea,' Gull says as she follows Tom and Useless through the maze of green. ‘It's like walking through tall seaweed. It's over my head,' she says looking up.'

‘Over Dad's head too! In fact, it's taller than anyone around here.'

‘Such a beautiful rich green,' Gull says looking around her. ‘And so clever.'

‘Wait 'til you see it from the rise,' Tom says as they find the dip and put the puppies into it. Immediately, Useless lies down beside them content.

‘Come on, Gull, race you to the top of the rise.' With heads bent, they run through the green crop until they can clamber up to the rise.

Panting, Gull looks back towards the farmhouse and the big shed. ‘Wow! Look at that.'

‘Pretty impressive,' Tom nods. In front of them, as far as the eye can see is a carpet of deep rich, emerald green. A light breeze springs up and ripples gently through the hemp changing it now into a moving green ocean.

‘It's so pretty. Just wish I'd brought my camera.'

‘No need to.'

‘Have you got one?'

‘Nope, but “The Land” newspaper has already been out taking pictures. They said they want to do a double page spread on this new crop. Of course, the crop isn't actually new: it's been around for centuries. It's just new to us.'

In the distance past the sea of green, Gull observes the farmhouse. ‘Have you got an attic?'

‘No. Why? Oh, you're looking at the top room, the Folly. It looks different from here, doesn't it?'

‘Yeah! Like some gigantic eye keeping a lookout,' Gull says as she stares at the triangular window of the Folly.'

‘Mum believes that the whole farm is protected because of the Folly. She doesn't know why. Just says she “feels” the Folly is important. Of course, Dad doesn't believe in any of that spooky stuff. Still,' he shrugs, ‘Dad's keen to trace the family tree. And he wants to find out where the family name “Gull” came from.'

‘My name?' Gull exclaims. ‘I didn't know it was a family name. I thought it was just because I have really fair hair.'

‘No, it's hereditary,' Tom says. ‘One of the original Hepplewhite daughters had hair just like yours. They said she had special gifts, and that when there was trouble, she'd be there to use her gifts for the good of the Folly.'

Gull groans. ‘Now I know when I'm being teased, Tom.'

‘Honest, Gull! Ask Dad if you don't believe me. I'm telling the truth for a change.'

Gull shakes her head. She wonders,
Is this really the truth? Or am I just being teased again?
Before she can ask anything more, they hear the kitchen bell ringing.

‘Lunch!' Tom shouts eagerly. ‘We must have been gone longer than I thought. Come on, we'll pick up the dogs on the way through.' With that, he disappears into the green sea of hemp.

Finding the dogs is easier than they think. Following the sound of Useless' bark, they quickly locate the three dogs.

‘I'm not picking them up while they're scratching,' Gull says.

Tom looks at the three canines and bursts out laughing. ‘Like father, like, son. They're scratching like crazy. Even more than usual.'

‘Poor little things,' she says bending close to the two puppies. ‘But I don't want to catch whatever they've got.'

‘You won't,' Tom says. ‘They never jump from animals to humans. We have our own mites.' Just then, Useless stands up suddenly and gives himself a tremendous shake. Then the puppies stagger up and shake themselves fiercely.

‘They must have heard you,' Tom says, surprised.

‘Why do you say that?'

‘Look! They've stopped scratching, and all at the same time. That's weird.'

Just then, Useless sits down and gives a half-hearted scratch. ‘The puppies must have given their mites to Useless.' He laughs. ‘Who knows the mysteries of the doggie world? Come on Gull. Let's get going. I'm getting hungry just thinking about lunch.'

Picking up a puppy each, they start the long walk back to the farmhouse, Useless following happily behind.

For a while, they walk in silence. Suddenly, Gull says, ‘You know, I could set up a web page for the farm.'

‘Could you? How come you know about web pages?'

‘Oh, I did a course last holidays,' she says casually. ‘In fact,' she says slowly, ‘I bet I could help Useless with his, er…'

‘With his what?' Tom asks, turning his head to look at her.

‘His, er, puppy problem.'

‘Yeah? Really? How? I mean, we all know the solution.'

Gull looks at him quizzically.

‘The, uh, little operation: the snip. But Dad keeps putting it off. Says he has too many other things to think about. But I just think it's because Useless is so happy being a father to so many puppies that, well, Dad can't bring himself to take him to the vet.'

Reaching the big shed, Gull and Tom place the puppies back in the pen where they immediately fall asleep after their big outing. Useless, torn between lunch scraps and paternal love, chooses to follow Gull and Tom over to the kitchen.

As they race over, Tom continues, ‘Yep, that would be the best solution for poor old Useless, I suppose. And pretty permanent. But in the meantime …' His voice trails off as they finally reach the kitchen door and see everybody already sitting down and eating. To herself, Gull thinks,
but there could be another way, Tom, beside the snip. Guess I'll just keep that to myself for now though.

‘Come on you slow coaches,' Harry says. ‘You're lucky there're two seats left. We had to turn away fifty people when they found out Jake was cooking.'

‘Dad,' Jake groans turning red.

The others laugh. ‘Glad we had an excuse for popping over,' Ted says, sitting next to Jimmy. ‘Mind you,' he says nodding towards Jake, ‘we'll be expecting the same high standard for the next few weeks while we harvest all over the countryside. I insist that my sandwiches are made by Jake and only Jake.'

‘What about your wife?' Helen asks. ‘She'll be over here making sandwiches just as much as Jake.'

‘Yeah but I know what she puts in her sandwiches, Helen. No, my mind's made up. I'm ready for a change. Of course, I'll keep my wife: I just want those gourmet sandwiches Jake throws together. But,' he whispers conspiratorially, ‘don't tell Shirley or she'll want to divorce me. “Any excuse”, she says to me some days. “Any excuse”.'