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Authors: Sam Jasper

BOOK: Puppy Pie
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The whole table roars with laughter. They know how cheeky Ted can be, and how devoted he is to his long-suffering wife, one of the smartest women in the district.

‘Well, enjoy your lunch everybody,' Harry says. ‘Because from tomorrow, there'll be no time for leisure ‘til the crop is harvested. And I mean every crop on every farm, all over the district. Those harvesters will be threshing away to the very last hemp plant. Once that hemp is bundled up and safely in the hands of the factories, I won't enjoy a meal as much as the one I'm eating now. So,' Harry says, raising his mug of tea, ‘here's to the next leisurely lunch we have together.'

‘Hear, hear,' chorus the rest of the table.

‘And remember, it's early to bed for my family tonight because we've got a big day ahead tomorrow.'

‘What will I do?' Gull pipes up.

‘Well while we're harvesting, you'll be helping everybody else, including Shirley and the other wives, make a tonne of sandwiches and flasks of coffee and tea. We'll be feeding the local people in the sheds here. When everything's ready for packing, they'll crate the lot to where it'll be turned into material for clothes. And in the meantime, I've found someone willing to take the parts of the plant we don't use and turn them into useful products, like, er …'

‘Paper,' Lucy shouts.

‘No more, no more,' Helen says laughing, her hands over her ears. ‘Enough! Let's have a break for a while.' She looks down at Useless who's in the middle of a huge yawn. ‘Yes, it can be a bit of a yawn when that's the only topic,' she says, stroking the dog's head.

‘I've got a different topic,' Tom grins. ‘Gull knows how to set up web pages.'

‘Really?' Lucy asks excitedly. ‘I'd love to know how to do that.'

‘I can show you if you like Lucy,' Gull says.

‘Yes, please,' Lucy smiles. ‘Maybe we'd have time if you help me collect the eggs, feed the animals and groom the horses before dinner.'

‘Great,' Gull beams, over the moon to be able to show her big cousin something she knows about.

The rest of the afternoon flies: Lucy and Gull are running around making sure the animals are cleaned, groomed and fed. In the meantime, Tom and Jake are helping their father with jobs such as checking on the sheds for storage, while Helen checks last minute bookwork, individual farm schedules and lists of helpers.

With just over an hour to spare, Lucy and Gull sit down at the computer in the study to start designing. Gull digs in her top pocket and takes out her glasses. ‘Just need these for close work,' she says to Lucy.

‘For computers and books?' Lucy asks.

Gull nods as she adjusts her frames onto the end of her nose.

‘Hold on,' Lucy says, ‘We've got some old pictures of the Folly. Maybe we could use one of those pictures as a backdrop.'

‘Great idea,' Gull says as Lucy disappears up to the Folly. She hears her open the creaking old trunk. In no time, she's back, dusting off a decrepit album, green with age. Putting it on the huge wooden coffee table in the middle of the lounge room, they open it carefully.

‘There are so many,' Gull exclaims, turning the pages backwards and forwards. She stops to look at a large photograph. ‘Who are all these people standing in front of your farmhouse?'

Lucy smiles proudly as they study the photograph. ‘You are now looking at the first generation of Hepplewhites, Eight children altogether: five girls and three boys.'

‘So it's true,' Gull breathes.

‘What's true?' Lucy asks.

‘There,' Gull says, pointing to a fair-haired woman in the middle of the sisters. ‘The rest of the family has dark hair,' she says.

Lucy looks at her quizzically.

‘Tom was telling me that “Gull” is a family name and there's a story that a fair-haired Hepplewhite appears with special gifts when the farm needs saving. I didn't believe him because he loves teasing me.'

Lucy stares at the old photograph intently. ‘Well, Tom's right for once. It is sort of a family legend. But it's great to have you here, Gull,' Lucy says, ‘even if the farm doesn't need saving.'

Gull grins. ‘I like this really old one,' Gull says, looking at a picture of the Folly with eight children on the stairs of the front veranda and their parents sitting in front of them.

‘Yes, I think that's the best,' Lucy agrees as she watches Gull jump up and begin to scan it into the computer.

‘Wow, it's so old. And it looks like it's in sepia,' Gull says. ‘They used a lot of that brown pigment over photos then. Guess it was ages before colour photos. I like it.' Gull looks at the photo more closely. ‘The farmhouse looks exactly the same as it does now: the front door and the veranda curving right around with the same cowbell. Gull looks back at the screen and smiles. ‘Done! There! What do you think, Lucy?'

‘I think it's dinner time,' Tom says strolling in. ‘What've you got there?' he asks, bending down to the look at the screen. ‘Wow! Is this really the Folly web page?' He yells towards the kitchen. ‘Hey, everybody! Come and see what the computer whizzes have done.'

Curious, Harry, Helen and Jake walk over to the computer staring at the screen. ‘That's my favourite photo of this place,' Harry exclaims.

‘And there's a Gull,' Tom says. ‘See? I told you.'

‘We were just looking at her,' Lucy nods. ‘I guess she must be our great-great-aunt or some other type of great.'

‘Closer,' Helen smiles. ‘She's your great-great-great-grandmother.'

‘Mine too?' Gull asks, turning to look at her aunt.

‘Of course,' she says. ‘Harry is your father's brother, so your name travels through the Hepplewhite family until it's come to you.'

‘Wow! I feel so special,' Gull says feeling overawed.

Tom sighs. ‘Come on special person,' he says, trying to pull his cousin and sister away from the computer. ‘The rest of us normal people are really hungry.'

The family laughs, and as Gull switches off the computer, Lucy puts her arm around Gull's shoulders. ‘Thanks Gull, that was fun. Do you think you could help me make up a web page for my artwork?'

‘Oh, I'd love to,' she answers happily. ‘Just tell me when.'

‘Just as soon as the crop's in,' Lucy says, ‘and everything's back to normal. And we can laugh about the fun we had these holidays.'

Chapter 3

‘Stop laughing,'
Gull murmurs sleepily as she turns over in bed the next morning. ‘Stop laughing at me.' Suddenly, she sits bolt upright. ‘Where am I?' She looks around the pale yellow room with the open window opposite her bed. ‘Oh, now I remember,' she sighs slumping back down in the bed. ‘The Folly!' Then Gull sits up again, staring at the bedside clock. ‘Six thirty.' She groans. ‘Too early! Eight o'clock's early enough for me in the holidays.' She glances over at Lucy's bed: it's empty. Gull frowns. With renewed vigour, the maniacal laughter that she heard in her dream starts again.

‘Alright, alright,' Gull grumbles as she climbs out of bed and pads over to the window. ‘I'm up. Happy now?' Looking out the window, she sees a slender branch of an old eucalypt two arm lengths away, growing toward the outer wall of the room. On it sit two mature kookaburras, sharp beaks pointing skyward as they laugh and laugh madly. ‘Of course you're happy,' Gull smiles. ‘You're awake.'

The kookaburras are so close Gull can clearly see the pale blue on their bodies standing out against the dark, dull brown and beige. They stop laughing, look over at her with their heads on one side, laugh once more and then fly away.

She looks at her bed longingly but shrugs and saunters past it.
I'm staying in my pyjamas just in case Lucy is the only one up. Then I can crawl back into bed without feeling guilty
.

Running down the stairs, she opens the kitchen door and is greeted by a sea of new faces. Everybody turns and smiles at her.

‘Hello, sleepyhead,' Helen says kissing her good morning. ‘This is our niece, Gull,' she says to the others. ‘She's up from the city for the holidays. And just in time too to help with the harvest.'

‘Poor thing,' sympathises a busy woman making a heap of sandwiches. ‘I know you lot. You'll work her half to death and she'll have to go back to the city to be resuscitated.'

‘And this, of course, is Shirley,' Helen says smiling at the cheerful woman. ‘I've made her boss of the food until the harvest's in.'

‘I've met Ted,' Gull smiles at her. She likes Shirley immediately.

‘Ah, the rascal,' Shirley laughs. ‘He's thrown over my good, plain sandwiches for Jake's. Says mine aren't “gourmet”.'

‘Oh, Shirley,' Jake blushes pleased with the compliment.

‘The rest of you can introduce yourselves while I get Gull some breakfast. Our very own local corn flakes alright, honey?' Helen asks putting a bowl on the table. ‘There's plenty of toast and I'll make a fresh pot of tea. Anyone else for a cuppa?'

Nods run through the kitchen as a sea of happy women slice lamb, ham, cheese and tomatoes for today's hungry hordes. Tom and Jake pat Gull on the head every time they pass her, expecting to annoy her. However, Gull is so busy eating and watching the activity she hardly notices.

Helen says, ‘Once you've finished, Gull, I'll get you to take these provisions out to the big shed where Harry, Jimmy and Ted are getting ready for the day. Maybe on the way back, you could collect the eggs?'

‘Great,' Gull says cramming the last piece of toast into her mouth.

‘Don't worry about taking Ted's basket out,' Shirley says. She looks down at Useless who is getting under everyone's feet while he scavenges for scraps on the kitchen floor. ‘I'm organising special delivery.'

‘Huh?' Helen asks.

‘Watch this,' Shirley says proudly. She bends down and Useless comes loping over. ‘Pick up the basket,' she says to Useless who looks at her confused. To the astonishment of everyone in the room, Shirley gets down on all fours and picks up the handle of the full basket in her teeth, and then she drops it back onto the floor. ‘Just like that,' she says to Useless. The others laugh as they shake their heads.

‘Oh, Shirley, he'll never do that. He's not smart enough,' Helen exclaims.

Just then, Useless clamps his mouth over the handle and picks the basket up.

‘Good boy!' Shirley beams. ‘See?' she says to the stunned audience. ‘Now, go find Ted, in the big shed. Where your puppies are. And give Ted the basket. Go on. Go find Ted.'

Wagging his tail happily, Useless trots over to the screen door, nudges it open and walks towards the big shed, the basket swinging under his chin. Everybody in the kitchen runs to the screen door and peers out as Useless disappears into the shed.

‘Told you so,' Shirley says with a superior smirk on her face. ‘Special delivery.'

‘Wow! That's so clever,' Gull breathes at the front of the group. As they walk back to their places in the kitchen, Gull runs upstairs, throws off her pyjamas and clambers into an old pair of jeans and a pale blue t-shirt. Brushing her hair quickly, she ties it back into a ponytail and secures it with a bright pink band. In no time, her teeth are brushed and her face clean. From the bedroom, Gull hears gales of laughter coming from the kitchen. Slipping on her canvas shoes, she races down the stairs and runs into the kitchen. Standing at the door of the kitchen is Ted. In one hand, he holds an empty basket. His other hand grips Useless' collar.

‘I guess it's a joke. But why would anyone send Useless over with an empty basket?' Ted asks Shirley, looking mystified. Everybody is laughing so hard, especially Shirley with tears running down her face, that no one can answer him. Ted continues, ‘I saw Useless walk in and stop near the puppy pen. I didn't take any more notice until he came over to me and dropped this basket at my feet. An empty basket,' he adds with emphasis.

‘Oh no,' Gull says horrified, looking from a happy Useless to a bemused Ted. Before she can stop herself, she blurts out, ‘He's eaten your lunch.'

‘I thought so,' Ted says. ‘Whose bright idea was it to send this dog over with a basket full of food?' Ted looks around the room. His eyes rest on Shirley. ‘Should have guessed, clever clogs,' he mumbles. He hands her the empty basket and leaves, shaking his head ruefully. The screen door closes after him. ‘Try Gull next time,' he shouts back. ‘She doesn't look as hungry.'

‘Oh, Useless,' Shirley laughs drying her tears on her apron. ‘You're not such a dumb dog after all, are you?' Useless wags his tail enthusiastically.

Shortly after, Gull runs over to the shed with three full baskets while Tom holds onto Useless' collar just outside the kitchen door. ‘You've already had enough,' he says to the dog. ‘No more sandwiches for you today, or jam roll.'

Seeing Gull emerge from the big shed, Tom races over, leaving Useless to his own devices. ‘I'll help collect the eggs,' Tom says handing her the egg basket.

‘Great,' Gull grins. As Tom shoos away the broody hens from their roosts, Gull gathers up the eggs. Together, they search for hidden eggs in nooks and crannies.

‘Another two,' Tom says, scrambling out from behind the chook shed. He holds them up for Gull to see and adds them to the pile.

Suddenly, they hear the roar of the Harvesters as they rev into action. Like a flotilla of fiery red ships, they glide into the deep sea of emerald green hemp. Gull and Tom race out of the chicken coop to watch as the Harvesters roll slowly towards the distant acres. The day is already heating up. A slight haze hangs over the farm. The humidity is rising. Gull looks at her wristwatch. ‘It's only eight o'clock,' she says amazed. ‘And already so much is happening.'

‘Don't worry,' Tom murmurs, ‘you're bound to get bored after a while. I know I do: the same old routine every day. Nothing new or different to do.' He kicks the dirt with his foot, sending up a little cloud of dust.

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