Toad Away (8 page)

“I know,” said Limpy. “We'll find the part of the airport the planes to the Amazon leave from. That's where we'll find Charm.”

A horrible thought hit him.

In an airport this size, planes to the Amazon might leave from different parts. They might go to the wrong part and miss her.

Then Limpy saw something that gave him a fairly daring idea himself.

At a counter nearby, a human was speaking with her mouth close to what looked like a swamp reed stem with a seed pod on top. Her voice was booming out across the arrivals hall.

“Charm would be able to hear that,” said Limpy.“Even if she's up at the other end of the airport.”

Goliath looked embarrassed and patted his stomach.

“I'm sorry, that was a bit loud,” he said. “Shoes give me wind.”

Limpy and Goliath had to wait quite a long time in the waste bin under the counter.

“Mmmm,” said Goliath.“This sandwich is deliciously juicy.”

“It's a printer cartridge,” said a passing ant.

Finally the human at the counter was called away, and Limpy seized his chance. He hopped up onto the counter, dragged a box of luggage labels over to the swamp reed stem, hopped onto the box, and spoke into the seed pod in his clearest voice.

“Attention, Charm,” he said. “This is Limpy and Goliath. Don't get on the Amazon plane yet. We're coming with you. Meet us at the …”

Where would be a good place to meet?

“Rental-car counters,” said Goliath.

Good idea, thought Limpy. He knew what rental cars were. Most of the cars that tried to drive through
the bush to remote picnic spots and got bogged in mud holes were rental cars.

“Charm, meet us at the rental-car counters,” said Limpy into the seed pod.

He looked around the arrivals hall. As he'd hoped, none of the humans were paying any attention. To them, his announcement had probably sounded like an electrical fault. But every other creature in the place was staring, curious and interested.

Good, thought Limpy. Now Charm will turn up in no time.

C
harm didn't turn up.

Not even after a lot of time.

Limpy and Goliath searched the whole airport terminal, asking all the insects and rodents and sniffer dogs if they'd seen her.

None of them had.

“I don't trust those sniffer dogs,” muttered Goliath, glaring at the beagles.“One of them sniffed my bottom. I reckon they've captured Charm and handed her over to their human masters as a war spy.”

Limpy didn't think that was very likely.

They questioned some head lice on the back of a seat in a deserted departure lounge. The head lice hadn't seen Charm, but they told Limpy not to give up, there were three other terminal buildings she could be in.

Limpy sagged with despair.

“This place is too big,” he said to Goliath. “We'll never find her.”

“That's if she's here at all,” said Goliath. “She could be in a child's dollhouse over on the other side of the city for all we know. Being forced to try on shoes.”

Limpy and Goliath dragged their weary bodies out of the departure lounge in the direction of the next terminal. As they crossed a dusty expanse of tiled floor, Limpy felt dizzy with tiredness. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath.

“Stack me,” said Goliath, pointing to the floor.“That's Charm.”

Limpy looked down.

And nearly fainted.

He was standing on Charm's head.

Traced in the dust was the outline of Charm's face, bigger than in real life and perfect in every detail. Even her warts were in the right place. Her eyes were as warm and loving as the real things.

“Careful,” said an indignant voice. “Don't tread on her.”

Limpy, head spinning even more now, staggered off the picture.

A dust mite was glaring at them, claws on hips.

“D-d-did you draw that?” stammered Limpy.

“Yes,” said the dust mite. “And I don't care who knows it. Fate only brought us together for a few
precious minutes, but she won my heart forever. I'd give anything to see her gorgeous face again, but I know I won't, so my love will have to live on in art.”

“Mental,” whispered Goliath in Limpy's ear. “It's the dust.”

Limpy barely heard him. He was so excited he could hardly speak.

“You've seen my sister?” he croaked.

The dust mite looked startled.

“Sister?” he said, backing away. “I didn't know she was anyone's sister. Not that anything happened. No kissing or anything. I was just doing a bit of street art. I specialize in old masters, but with more dust. This vision hopped over and asked me how to get to the Amazon. At first I thought she meant that Internet bookshop, but she explained she was trying to get to the real Amazon.”

Limpy would have grabbed the dust mite if he'd been able to pick it up. He stepped closer, looming over the terrified artist.

“Did you help her?” he said. “Has she gone to the Amazon?”

The dust mite nodded.

“We found a weevil who'd spent a lot of time in the air-traffic controllers’ lunchroom. He told her about a flight she'd be able to catch if she hurried.”

Disappointment swept over Limpy like the sour
water humans sometimes threw out of their cooler.

“When did she leave?” he said.

“Quite a while ago,” said the dust mite. “I did her portrait after she left and I can only move one grain of dust at a time.”

“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?”

L
impy 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.