Toad Away Read online

  “Shall I eat him?” said Goliath.

  Limpy shook his head. He had a rule never to eat anyone who felt the same way about Charm as he did, no matter how much he wanted to. Plus he needed travel details.

  “This flight Charm caught,” he said. “When does the next one leave?”

  “Not till tomorrow,” said the dust mite. “And not from this airport. It's a flight that leaves once a day from a private airfield way over in that direction.”

  Limpy felt despair rising again.

  “It's OK,” said the dust mite.“You've got all night to get there. I'll draw you a map.”

  He started moving grains of dust into the shape of a street. Then he stopped and looked pleadingly up at Limpy.

  “When you see her,” he said,“could you tell her that Myron sends his love?”

  Limpy and Goliath took a long time to find their way out of the airport, mostly because Goliath stopped at every food-vending machine to see if he could get his tongue down the coin slot.

  Once they were outside and hopping along the dark streets, Goliath announced he wanted to do commando raids on human houses.

  “Nothing large scale,” he said. “Just toilet-splashing and car-scratching.”

  Stack me, thought Limpy. At this rate we're never going to get to that airfield.

  He said no a lot of times and in a very stern way.

  Then, a few streets further on, Goliath hopped away briefly and came back with a tummy ache.

  “What did you eat?” Limpy asked anxiously as Goliath lay in the gutter groaning and holding his tummy.

  “Just some local food,” said Goliath. “A snake. At least I think it was a snake.”

  Limpy was about to ask him what he meant when a large figure loomed over them. It was an angry poodle.

  The poodle pushed Goliath's mouth open, reached down his throat, and dragged out a long length of metal chain.

  “Don't you be takin’ a person's doggy lead, dude,” said the poodle, glaring at Goliath and Limpy.

  “Sorry,” said Limpy as the poodle stamped away in a huff.

  “It was shiny like a snake,” protested Goliath.

  By the time they finally found the airfield, Goliath was complaining that his feet were sore. He hopped through the fence and onto the first plane he saw.

  “Goliath,” said Limpy wearily, climbing into a wheel bay and wriggling into the fuselage. “This is a crop duster.”

  Limpy knew about crop dusters. A grasshopper had described once how a crop duster had killed eight million of his family and given his grandfather a skin rash.

  “No, it's not,” Goliath said.

  Limpy pointed to the big tanks of spray inside the crop duster. Goliath looked doubtful and was only convinced when he'd drunk some and his tongue had turned blue.

  “Come on,” said Limpy, even more wearily. “It's getting light outside. Let's find a local who can show us the right plane.”

  Limpy jolted awake as the small plane struggled up into the smoggy Los Angeles sky. He breathed a sigh of relief through all his skin pores and several of his warts.

  He and Goliath were finally on their way to the Amazon.

  “Well done, Goliath,” said Limpy. “I'm proud of you.”

  “Get nicked,” said Goliath. “My tummy hurts, and my feet, and my tongue.”

  Limpy peered into Goliath's mouth. He was relieved to see that Goliath's tongue was almost back to normal.

  “Try to relax and enjoy the flight,” said Limpy.

  “This plane isn't as good as the one we came over on,” grumbled Goliath. “There's no movie, or meal service, or seats.”

  Limpy had to admit he was right. This plane wasn't much bigger than the crop duster. It was just a hollow metal tube full of empty wooden cages.

  “I reckon these cages are to put the passengers in,” said Goliath loudly. “When they discover there's no meal service and try to throw themselves out the window.”

  “Not so loud,” said Limpy. “There aren't meant to be any passengers. We're stowaways, remember?”

  Limpy glanced anxiously through the cages at the pilot, hoping he hadn't heard Goliath's noise.

  He didn't seem to have. Limpy could see he was wearing headphones, and from the way his head was moving rhythmically backward and forward, Limpy guessed he was either listening to music or to an airtraffic controller he agreed with very much.

  Goliath was sifting through the dust on the floor of the plane.

  “There's got to be something to eat on this dumb crate,” he said. He peered doubtfully at something in his hand. “Oh well, this is better than nothing.” He popped it onto his tongue.

  Limpy caught a glimpse of it just before Goliath's tongue disappeared into his mouth. He leapt at his startled cousin, pulled his lips apart, and dragged his tongue back out.

  “Sorry,” said Limpy, warts tingling with excitement.“But I think I recognize this.”

  He plucked the morsel from Goliath's tongue, wiped off the mucus, and studied it more closely.

  Yes.

  It was a dried mouse eye, just like the ones on the necklace Aunty Pru had given Charm.

  “This must have fallen off Charm's necklace,” said Limpy. “She must have been on this plane yesterday. Which means we're on the right track.”

  Goliath stared at the mouse eye.

  “Poor Charm,” he said. “Hope the little tyke's OK.”

  “So do I,” said Limpy, moved by Goliath's concern.

  Goliath took the mouse eye and put it back in his mouth.

  “Better keep our strength up,” he said. “In case she's not.”

  Limpy was dozing when he felt Goliath shaking him.

  “We're going down,” croaked his cousin.

  For a moment Limpy thought Goliath meant the pilot had banged his head on the dashboard during a lively dance number and the plane was crashing.

  Then he realized they were coming in for landing.

  “There aren't any seat belts,” said Goliath. “This airline's a joke.”

  Limpy dragged a toolbox over to the window, staggering as the plane tilted its nose down even further. He hopped up and peered out.

  It was an incredible sight.

  Millions of treetops were jammed together tighter than warts on a warthog. An ocean of thick foliage lay in every direction for as far as Limpy could see, and he could see a long way even though the window was pretty dirty.

  “Stack me,” said Limpy. “This Amazon's a big place.”

  He felt the plane starting to level out, so he hopped off the toolbox and huddled down with Goliath, assuming the brace position for landing.

  Limpy wasn't sure exactly what the brace position was. A dragonfly had started to explain it once, but Goliath had eaten him before he'd finished. Limpy hoped that clinging on to Goliath and wishing Mum and Dad were here was roughly right.

  After a lot of thumps and jolts, the plane rolled to a stop.

  Limpy and Goliath stayed huddled out of sight while the pilot flung open the rear door of the plane and dragged out some of the cages.

  Must be an urgent delivery, thought Limpy. Must be a lot of people around here with unruly pets.

  After a while, when the pilot didn't come back, Limpy peered out of the doorway. He saw the pilot further down the dry grass runway, with a couple of other humans, blowing smoke out of his mouth.

  “Come on,” said Limpy to Goliath.

  They hopped out of the plane and headed across the runway toward the forest. As they got closer to the dense wall of tangled vegetation, anxious thoughts crash-landed inside Limpy's head.

  This place was bigger than a million swamps.

  How were they going to find Charm in such a vast area?

  Limpy told himself to calm down.

  Now that she's here, he reminded himself, she'll be fine. This is the ancient home of all cane toads. The place where our relatives have lived peacefully since the dawn of time.

  At this very moment, the local rel
lies were probably making a big fuss over Charm as she showed them how to make slug and spider stew the Australian way.

  Limpy noticed how almost every tree in the forest he and Goliath were entering had a big creeper wound around it. Tightly, like they were the best of mates. And each creeper had a smaller vine clinging to it in a very affectionate way.

  Stack me, thought Limpy happily. The Amazon rain forest must be the friendliest place on earth.

  Limpy liked the Amazon rain forest even more once he was inside it.

  For a start, there was no wart-damaging harsh sunlight. Limpy peered up through the green gloom at the treetops far above. Tiny pricks of sunlight winked through here and there, but not enough to turn warts into breakfast cereal.

  Plus it was wonderfully damp. The air was so moist Limpy felt like he was having a drink each time he breathed it in through his skin.

  But what Limpy liked most was the smell. Rotting vegetation, his favorite. There was so much fragrant decaying compost under Limpy's feet that when he hopped, he bounced.

  I love this place, he thought happily.

  “This place is too noisy,” complained Goliath. “I can't even hear myself complain.”

  Limpy grinned.

  Goliath was right. The forest was ringing with countless voices, all shouting at each other. Screeching voices, grunting voices, howling voices, clicking voices, whistling voices, pinging voices, singing voices, gurgling voices, and so many more Limpy couldn't make out what a single one was saying.

  “Everyone's just relaxed and having fun,” he said.

  “I'm not,” said Goliath gloomily. “I shouldn't even be here. I should be at home with my troops, planning war strategy.”

  Limpy sighed.

  The sooner we find Charm and our Amazon rellies, he thought, and learn the ancient secret of living in peace and hopefully also the ancient secret of cheering up, the better.

  A dazzlingly colorful fly buzzed past Limpy's nose and landed on a strip of orange jelly at Limpy's feet.

  “Excuse me,” said Limpy to the fly. “We've just arrived from Australia and we're looking for my sister. Have you seen anyone who looks a bit like me only prettier?”

  The fly ignored him.

  “Hey, buster,” said Goliath. “My cousin's talking to you.”

  The fly gave them both a stressed look.

  “Go away,” said the fly.“I'm not a tourist information service. If I don't lay these eggs quick smart, they won't hatch out into maggots and eat this worm from the inside before the rainy season.”

  “That's right,” said the orange jelly, who Limpy could now see was a giant worm. “You holidaymakers just don't get it, do you? We're working here.”

  “Sorry,” said Limpy.

  Goliath was watching the fly, wide-eyed.

  “That's a great secret weapon,” he said. “Laying eggs under your enemy's skin. Could you teach me how to do that?”

  Limpy could see that the fly and the worm were both about to tell Goliath to take a hike, but neither got to because there was a slither and a hiss and they both disappeared into the gaping mouth of a snake.

  Limpy hopped back in alarm. Then he realized the snake probably wasn't going to try and fit any more into its mouth, not unless it wanted to risk stretch marks, and seeing Goliath's stretch marks would probably put it off that.

  “Excuse me,” said Limpy to the snake. “Can you help me? I'm looking for my sister and our rellies.”

  The snake rolled its eyes and Limpy thought it was saying it couldn't talk because its mouth was full.

  In fact, Limpy saw a moment later, it was saying it couldn't talk because a giant spider had just injected a fatal dose of venom into its neck.

  Limpy gasped.

  He'd never seen a spider bigger than him before.

  “Stack me,” said Goliath, sounding scared and impressed at the same time.

  Limpy grabbed Goliath and dragged him behind a tree just as another giant, a wasp this time, plunged its sting into the spider's body.

  Limpy felt faint.

  The wasp was as big as a human taillight.

  The spider stopped sucking the juice out of the snake and rubbed its back legs along the side of its body. A cloud of tiny hairs floated up and covered the wasp, who immediately swelled up and dropped dead.

  “Cop that,” muttered the spider, and then dropped dead itself.

  Behind the tree, Limpy stared in horror. He glanced at Goliath to see if Goliath was having an anxiety attack. Goliath was staring at the spider in admiration.

  “That commando thing with the hairs,” said Goliath. “I wish I could do that. I wonder if wart flakes would work as well.”

  Limpy couldn't speak.

  This was a nightmare.

  And Charm was somewhere out there, in the middle of it all.

  Limpy wasn't sure whether to try and yell her name or not. If the cane toad rellies had her in a safe hiding place and she heard Limpy calling her, she might come out to find him and be killed by some horrible monster.

  Like this one arriving now, for example.

  Limpy clung on to Goliath and watched as a huge gangling insect creaked its way over to the dead spider and wasp. Rubbing its long spiky front legs together with relish, the insect grabbed the spider and the wasp and stuffed them into its mouth, ignoring a scorpion who was trying to stab it in the back.

  “Wow,” said Goliath. “Check the armor-plating on that bloke.”

  A very big blue and green lizard appeared and bit the insect's head off. The dying insect's twitching legs tried to rip the lizard's scales off, but failed.

  “Double wow,” said Goliath. “Check the armor-plating on that even bigger bloke.”

  While the lizard dozed in a thin shaft of sunlight, picking its teeth with the back end of the scorpion, Limpy stayed hidden and tried to get his breath back.

  He and Goliath had barely been in the Amazon long enough to say “peace and friendship,” and already they'd seen creatures ripping each other, crushing each other, and inserting maggots into each other.

  I hope we can find Charm and the rellies soon, thought Limpy. If Goliath starts trying to eat any of the locals here, we're history.

  “There's some very impressive military hardware around here,” said Goliath. “Very impressive. This tree sap's pretty good too.”

  Limpy saw Goliath was chewing lumps of rubbery sap from the tree next to the one they were hiding behind.

  “Tastes like radial tires,” said Goliath, putting another big lump into his mouth.

  Limpy shook his head when Goliath offered him some, partly because his stomach was sick with worry, and partly because of what the lizard was doing.

  The lizard was opening one eye and saying, “Oh, poop, a jaguar.”

  A massive yellow cat with black smudges was slinking toward the lizard. It was many times bigger than any cat Limpy had ever seen, and it definitely wasn't nodding its head. It wouldn't even have fit onto the back shelf of a car.

  Suddenly it wasn't slinking anymore, it was on top of the lizard doing more crushing and ripping.

  Limpy couldn't stop himself, he gave a little whimper.

  The jaguar stared in their direction.

  Oh, no, thought Limpy. It can smell us.

  Or rather it could smell Goliath, who'd just let out a large amount of radial tire–scented wind.

  “Quick,” said Limpy. “Up the tree.”

  Goliath looked at him, puzzled.

  “Cane toads don't climb trees,” he said.

  “We do now,” said Limpy.

  It was a hard climb up the tree, especially for Limpy with his crook leg. Luckily the bark was covered with ferns and vines and creepers, which were really good for clutching on to and yelling when you thought you were going to fall.

  The locals weren't much help. The bark and the stuff hanging off it were full of insects. They obviously didn't like folks climbing over their homes. Not judging by the amount of swearing they did in Limpy and G
oliath's direction.

  And biting.

  And stabbing.

  And poison-squirting.

  “Sorry,” said Limpy to a nest of very annoyed ants.“We're just trying to escape a killer, ouch, cat.”

  He glanced down the tree trunk. No sign of the jaguar, thank swamp. Limpy could just make out, far below on the forest floor, the damp patch that had once been the giant lizard.

  “Ow,” said Goliath several hundred times as a swarm of millipedes ran over his face and kicked him in the chin with each of their feet.

  Limpy ate a couple of wood lice, just to show them he and Goliath weren't going to be pushed around. They weren't like Australian lice, who generally gave up and accepted things once they were down your throat. Limpy could feel this pair still fighting and kicking after he'd swallowed them.

  “Limpy,” said Goliath. “Why are we still climbing if the big cat's gone?”

  “So we can get a better view of the forest,” said Limpy, flicking irate caterpillars out of his eyes with his tongue. “So we can try and see where Charm and the other cane toads are.”

  Goliath didn't reply.

  Limpy remembered Goliath didn't like heights.

  Oh well, thought Limpy, we're nearly at the top. Then we'll be climbing down. He'll like that better.

  “Ow,” said Goliath as a nut bounced off his head.

  Limpy looked up. In the branches above them, hairy animals shaped like little humans were hanging by their tails and chucking things.

  “Get out of our tree!” yelled one.

  “Go back to where you came from!” yelled another.

  “Toads don't belong up trees!” yelled a third.

  “Except for bloodsucking tree toads,” said another one, peering at Limpy. “Which you're not.”

  Limpy ducked as a lump of bark whizzed past his ear. He realized something else was whizzing past his ear as well. A brightly colored bird with a deadly-looking beak. A whole flock of them appeared, circling round Limpy and Goliath, glaring fiercely.

  The hairy nut throwers scampered away. Limpy wanted to do the same, but he didn't know how to scamper when he was hanging off a creeper by both hands and his good foot.

  “Excuse me,” he said to the birds. “I'm looking for my relatives. Can you help?”