Toad Heaven - Morris Gleitzman [28]
Limpy saw that his sister was trembling with shock.
“What's the matter?” he asked, putting his arm round her.
She didn't reply.
Limpy peered into the room and saw it was a sort of shop, with racks of postcards and a big glass cupboard full of soft drinks.
Even though Charm's little body was white with salt and Limpy knew she must be as thirsty as he was, she wasn't looking at the soft drinks.
She was looking up at the shelves.
The shelves were piled with the sorts of things humans bought when they were on holiday. Sunglasses and plastic boats and pens with plankton in them. The sort of stuff that broke easily and got chucked out of cars on the way home.
Limpy realized Charm wasn't trembling because of the flimsiness of human souvenirs.
She was trembling because of the cane toads squatting on the middle shelf.
Limpy felt a shiver go down his back.
For a fleeting second he thought they were alive.
Then he realized they weren't. They were too shiny and still, and their eyes were too glassy. And they were doing something no live cane toad would ever do. They were holding miniature items of human sporting equipment.
Tennis racquets.
Cricket bats.
Golf clubs.
That's disgusting, thought Limpy. Making them pose with the very weapons that probably killed them.
Charm gave a small sob.
Limpy's heart ached. He wished she didn't have to see this. He wished he could take her home, where at least dead cane toads had flatness and dignity.
Then he remembered the virus germs. Was poor Charm imagining herself with the other cane toads on the shelf?
“Come on,” said Limpy softly, steering her away from the shop. “We can't do anything for them now. It's more important that we find Goliath.”
At that moment, from along the passage, came a loud burp.
Goliath had found food.
Goliath was in another room further along the passage.
“Look,” he said, chewing happily. “Isn't this great?”
Limpy froze.
The room was full of humans. They were standing against the walls on all sides. Goliath hadn't even seen them.
Limpy dived in front of Charm and braced himself for an attack.
It didn't come.
Weak with relief, Limpy saw why. The things towering over him weren't humans after all. Just human clothes hanging on pegs.
Goliath was chewing a sock.
“Help yourself,” he said, pointing to the bags and rucksacks on the floor.
Limpy saw that Goliath had opened several ruck-sacks and emptied out the contents. He was sitting among cosmetic bags and books and maps and underwear.
“There's plenty for everyone,” said Goliath. “I recommend those delicious deodorant sticks that humans rub under their arms.”
Limpy remembered how hungry he was.
He started checking the hairbrushes for head lice. Then he saw something that drove all thoughts of food from his mind and tummy.
Spilling out of one rucksack were some photos of humans standing under trees. The trees were full of brightly colored birds. Some of the humans had birds standing on their heads and shoulders.
Limpy peered more closely.
One of the humans was holding a frog.
The humans looked happy.
The birds looked happy.
The frog looked happy.
Limpy's warts tingled with excitement. This was exactly how he'd imagined a national park would be. No birds being shot. No frogs being dissected by scientists. Limpy studied the photos for any signs of cane toads being bashed or run over.
Not a single one.
And everything was surrounded by air, not water.
This must be another national park, thought Limpy. It's got to be.
He was about to show the photos to Charm and Goliath when he saw something else on the floor. Something that made his warts almost pop with happiness.
A pair of human shoes, caked with mud.
“Look,” croaked Limpy. “Mud.”
“Thanks,” said Goliath with his mouth full. “But I prefer sock fluff.”
“Don't you see?” said Limpy. “The underwater national park isn't the only one these humans