Toad Rage (14 page)

“L
et me get this straight,” said Goliath.

He was speaking loudly so Limpy could hear him over the hubbub of journalists and TV crews on the other side of the curtain.

“We're gunna go onstage at this international press conference, a press conference being held specially to introduce Australia's new most loved species—i.e., us—to the world, and be disgusting.”

“More than disgusting,” said Limpy. “We're going to show the world just how vile, revolting, and repugnant cane toads really are.”

Goliath frowned. Then understanding crept slowly across his big warty face.

Limpy looked up at the girl and gave her a nod.

Holding Limpy in one hand and Goliath in the other, the girl stepped through the curtain onto the stage.

Limpy was almost blinded by flashing cameras and glaring TV lights.

The girl put him and Goliath down on a table in front of her.

Limpy noticed that most of the cameras were pointing at him and Goliath rather than her.

Good, he thought.

With an encouraging grin to both of them, the girl opened the tin of mud worms they'd spent all morning collecting. She tipped them out onto the table.

As he picked the first one up and dropped it wriggling and alive into his mouth, Limpy noticed some of the journalists and cameramen screwing up their faces.

By the time he and Goliath had half a dozen worms, each wriggling down their throats, Limpy was pleased to see some of the cameras being turned away and some of the journalists looking a bit ill.

He could tell they were going right off the idea that cane toads were lovable.

The international market for stuffed cane toads, thought Limpy with grim satisfaction, will be history in about two minutes.

He turned round so the journalists all had a good view of his bottom.

L
impy sat in the middle of the highway and let the warm North Queensland night air caress his skin and soothe the sore armpits he'd got from two days on the back of a mango truck.

It was good to be home.

Then he heard a distant rumble.

This is it, he thought, warts suddenly prickling with tension.

A vehicle was approaching at speed.

Limpy looked anxiously up at Goliath, who was sitting next to him on the bitumen. Goliath met his eyes for a moment.

“Here goes,” muttered Goliath.

Limpy looked even more anxiously down at Charm, who was sitting on the other side of him.

“I love you, Limpy,” said Charm. “I'm saying it now in case we don't get a chance afterward.”

Limpy stroked her cheek and felt his insides glow with love for her, and his crook leg ache with anxiety.

He held his breath.

The vehicle, a huge semi, was almost at the crossing.

Limpy gripped his stick and faced the oncoming headlights, grim and determined.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Goliath raise his stick.

“Come and get us, you mongrels,” yelled Goliath.

Limpy, trembling, wanted to grab Charm and hop for the grass verge, but he didn't.

He saw Charm raise her stick.

The truck thundered over the crossing.

Limpy stayed glued to the spot as Goliath raised himself up to his full height and waved his stick at the truck bearing down on them and yelled a torrent of swearwords at it.

Limpy's heart was pounding so hard his warts were aching.

“Now,” he yelled.

He watched as Charm planted one end of her stick on the bitumen, just like they'd practiced, gripped the other end, flung herself upward, and pole-vaulted through the air.

Limpy did the same. Just before he landed on the grass at the edge of the highway, he looked back
desperately to make sure Goliath had too. But all he could see was a cloud of dust as the truck roared past.

“Charm!” yelled Limpy. “Goliath!”

He was still yelling as the truck disappeared into the distance and the dust settled.

Charm stuck her head out of a clump of grass, grinning.

Goliath dropped down from the paperbark tree he'd landed in.

“It works,” he yelled. “Good on you, Limpy.”

Limpy grinned too, dizzy with relief.

The other cane toads broke into excited applause and crowded round the three of them.

Limpy glowed happily as Dad gave him a proud slap on the back.

Mum hugged him, face shining with love.

Even Ancient Eric shook his hand.

“It's just as I predicted, young Limpy,” he said. “You've brought peace and security to cane toads for countless generations to come.”

He glanced nervously down at his stomach.

Limpy smiled.

Then Charm came over and put her arms round him. “I've worked out why humans don't like us,” she said.

“Why?” said Limpy, gazing down at her dear warty face, and feeling his insides tingle with so much love
he thought his eyes were going to do that wet thing humans' eyes did.

“Because,” she said, “they're jealous they haven't got a big brother like you.”

W
hile Limpy handed sticks out to everyone who wanted to have a go for themselves, he heard Goliath talking to some little cane toads.

“Have I ever met a human?” he was saying. “Hey, I've had a bath with one.”

Limpy smiled as the little cane toads gasped.

Then he felt a tug at his leg.

A little cane toad was looking up at him.

“Uncle Limpy,” said the little cane toad. “Why do humans hate us?”

Limpy stared, taken aback. Then he took a deep breath and drew himself up to his full height, like an uncle should. He hoped it didn't matter that he was leaning slightly to one side.

“Well,” Limpy was about to say, “it's like this. Humans have hated cane toads since the dawn of time and they probably always will. We just have to accept
it, like we have to accept that flying insects are attracted to highway lights and crawling insects are attracted to wombat poo. It's just the way things are. Don't worry your little head about it.”

But he didn't say that.

Instead he put his arm round the little cane toad's shoulders. “That's a good question,” he said. “Humans claim they hate us cause we're ugly, but I don't reckon that's the whole story. They're a pretty complicated species, humans, and a lot more research needs to be done on them.”

The little cane toad's eyes widened. “And you think I could be the one to do it? You think one day I could be a brave adventurer like you, risking my life to bring peace and whadyacallit to cane toads for countless thingummies to come and stuff?”

Limpy hopped back in alarm.

The little cane toad wasn't just little, it was
very
little.

“I wasn't necessarily saying that,” said Limpy anxiously.

But the little cane toad wasn't listening. It was frowning and looking doubtful. “Hot water makes my warts itch,” it said. “I could never have a bath with a human.”

Limpy wondered whether he should mention cold taps. Then the little cane toad's eyes widened again. “I
know,” it shouted happily. “I'll do a wee in the water to cool it down.”

Limpy watched the little cane toad hop away, its face shining with excitement.

He realized he didn't feel anxious anymore.

Stack me, thought Limpy with a chuckle to himself. It's not just half-squashed cane toads that go round in circles.

Life does too.

BITUMEN:
What roads in Australia are coated with (along with squashed cane toads).

BUNG:
Broken, faulty, not doing what it's meant to. In Australia, sometimes used as a medical expression by doctors who played pool at university instead of studying Latin.

BUNG ON:
To put something on, e.g., “I'll bung the kettle on the stove and lend you a sweater to bung on if you stop bunging on that posh accent and bung a CD on the stereo” (Australians repeat themselves a bit sometimes).

CARAVAN:
A mobile home towed by a car. Can be unhitched and left at what Australians call a caravan
park, thus allowing one member of the holiday group to drive back home more quickly to turn off the stove.

CHOOK:
Chicken. Rhymes with “book” because it's the perfect food for eating one-handed while reading.

DUCO:
The special high-gloss paintlike finish on a car. Unless the car belongs to a painter, in which case it's probably just paint.

ECHIDNA:
A spiny anteater. A protected form of wildlife in Australia (unlike the ant).

GALAH:
A gray-and-pink bird in the cockatoo family, very common in outback Australia. Some people think they're not very bright and so call foolish or ignorant people “galahs.” In fact, galahs are better at math than most authors.

GOANNA:
An Aussie lizard. Can run very fast, unless trying to pull something heavy along the ground (see
caravan)
.

KOOKABURRA:
An Aussie kingfisher with a call that sounds like a maniacal human laugh, a unique characteristic that has evolved over millions of years of watching
The Simpsons
.

PUFFED:
Out of breath, exhausted (see
goanna)
.

RACK OFF:
A not very polite Australian expression meaning “get lost,” “beat it,” “scram.” Best not used with teachers (unless you're another teacher).

SINGLET:
A light torso-covering garment. People with good shoulders wear them in gyms. People with not-so-good shoulders wear them under their shirts.

SQUIZ:
A look, a peek, a glimpse. Information-gathering activity using the eyes. Australians are busy people, so they often only have time for “a quick squiz.”

STACK ME:
A colloquial Aussie exclamation registering surprise and amazement. As in, “Morris Gleitzman has written twenty books and they're all as funny as this one? Stack me!”