Toad Rage - Morris Gleitzman [22]
At first he couldn't see them among all the athletes and officials and security guards and TV cameras.
Then the mosquito pointed and Limpy looked up and there they were, huge on a giant screen at one end of the stadium, the kookaburra and the platypus and the echidna, waving to the crowd from the back of a massive fake rock on wheels.
Limpy looked around the stadium again and saw the rock at the head of the parade, surrounded by TV cameras, trundling slowly toward him along the running track.
He decided not to risk leaving Goliath on his own. No point winning the hearts and minds of the human race if your cousin was nearby threatening them with sticks.
“Thanks for your help,” Limpy said to the mosquito. He turned to Goliath. “Come on.”
Limpy set off toward the running track, desperately trying not to hop in circles or get crushed by human feet. Shoes, boots, trainers, sandals, and thongs thudded down, sometimes a flea's whisker from his head.
Please, begged Limpy silently. I survived being hit by a truck. Please don't let my quest be ended now by a tennis shoe.
Limpy reached the running track with just enough time to glance back, drag Goliath out from under a TV cable, and leap for the float.
He clambered up the side of the rock, Goliath at his side.
“Okay,” he said to Goliath when they were at the top between the kookaburra and the platypus. “You're a mascot. Look appealing.”
Goliath looked puzzled.
Limpy sighed, then turned to the crowd and smiled and waved.
He hoped the other mascots wouldn't mind. Luckily they were too tall to have noticed yet, but they would once the crowd started cheering for the cane toads.
Which they weren't doing so far.
Not even now that Goliath was smiling and waving too.
We're too small, thought Limpy in despair. The crowd can't see us.
He was about to climb onto Goliath's shoulders when the crowd started making a different noise.
Suddenly, instead of cheering, they were booing and making strange gurgles in their throats. It sounded to Limpy like a stadium full of humans about to be sick.
Then he saw himself, huge, on the giant screen.
Which is where all the humans were looking.
Limpy felt cold dread seep through his glands.
“Smile,” said a cheery voice. “You're on telly.”
The mosquito, buzzing overhead, was pointing to a nearby TV camera that was pointing at Limpy.
“What's happening?” said Limpy. “Why is the crowd making that noise?”
The mosquito rolled its eyes. “Why do you think?”
Goliath took a menacing step toward the mosquito, which made Goliath appear on the big screen too.
The crowd made even louder gagging noises.
“Answer the question,” said Goliath.
“Well,” said the mosquito, choosing his words carefully, “it's because humans think cane toads are the ugliest, most revolting-looking creatures they've ever seen.”
Limpy struggled to digest this.
“They think you're even uglier and more revolting,” said the mosquito, “than hairy spiders and smelly dung beetles and those slugs that sleep in their own snot.”
Limpy looked around the stadium at all the humans gazing up at the screen pretending to stick their fingers down their throats.
He could understand them doing that if it was just him up there with his crook leg. But Goliath, the handsomest cane toad he'd ever seen, was up there too.
It must be true.
Limpy felt sick himself.
It's hopeless, he thought miserably. Nobody wants revolting mascot. I'll never win the hearts and minds of humans now. They'll carry on hating us and killing us forever.
Limpy turned away so he wouldn't have to see the revulsion and hatred on the faces of the crowd.
Instead he found himself staring at the revulsion and hatred on the faces of the security guards advancing toward him.
For a fleeting moment Limpy was tempted to let the security guards grab him.
What did it matter now if he was arrested and locked up for impersonating a Games mascot and making a stadium full of humans feel sick?
Now that I know the truth, thought Limpy miserably, I might as well rot in a human jail for all