The Smallest Carbon Footprint in the Land Page 3

  ‘So what’s your next exciting wish, dear friend?’ asked Bling. ‘No wait, let me guess. I really must get rid of this lumpy old couch of yours. And while I’m at it, I’ll replace the rest of your furniture. No, forget the furniture. I’ll replace your entire hut. What you need, Gussie boy, is a mansion. How many bedrooms would you like? Will nineteen be enough? You’ll need en-suites for each bedroom of course. Reverse-cycle air-conditioning for your home and garage. A few party rooms and a home theatre. Three kitchens, with every modern convenience. You’ll need servants too. Just tell me how many.’

  Gus and Bling gave each other a hi-five salute. Then they washed the sticky bling dust from their fingers, and sat down to design the new mansion together.

  At sunrise, Gus awoke in a haze of bling dust. When the haze had settled he saw he was lying in a four-poster bed, surrounded by red velvet drapes and gold satin pillows. He looked through a gold-framed window and saw a glittering garden with walls made from golden nuggets.

  Before long before Gus owned a limousine, a luxury yacht and a private jet. He began to host parties for movie stars, rock stars and other celebrities. His new friends did not think much of the bling dust which hung around Gus, but he kept assuring them that progress is progress, and you can’t have progress without bling dust.

  One afternoon, while Gus was partying upstairs, Nina rang his doorbell.

  A butler answered the door. Seeing that Nina was wearing rags which were covered in bling-dust, he told her to go away and stop being a nuisance.

  Gus happened to be looking out the window at the time, and watched Nina trekking down the hill again. He picked up his umbrella, put on his anti-bling glasses and non-stick shoes, and followed Nina to the shore.

  Gus decided he had never seen such a glorious sight as this beach. The sea, sky and clouds had all turned golden, and the sickly-sweet aroma of bling dust hung above the bay. He loved the smell of bling dust now, for that was the smell of success. He stood on a golden rock and watched Nina bending down to pick up a pied oyster catcher which was covered in bling dust. She carried the bird inside a tiny hut made from rock and driftwood.

  He walked over to the hut and knocked on the door.

  Nina opened the door holding the bird in a towel.

  ‘Why are you looking so glum, Nina?’ he asked.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I look glum?’ she said. ‘Everything I love is covered in bling dust.’

  ‘Progress is progress, my girl. And we can’t have progress without bling dust,’ Gus assured her. ‘But if you don’t like bling dust, you could smarten yourself up and apply for a job in my shopping centre. Or come to work as one of my servants.’

  Nina stared at him, saying nothing for a long time. And then she shook her head disbelievingly. ‘You don’t understand, do you, Gus? Bling dust is sticking to the feathers of the seabirds and they can’t fly anymore. The birds can’t dive for fish either, so they’re starving. And fish are swallowing bling dust. Then people eat fish which have eaten bling dust, and they’re getting sick too.’

  ‘So you came to my house this afternoon to ask me to get rid of the bling dust?’

  ‘Well, since you’re so rich and important these days, Gus, I thought maybe you could do something about it.’

  Gus flashed a set of perfect white teeth. ‘No promises, Nina, but I’ll see what I can do.’

  Gus found the genie in his home theatre, lounging on a pile of plush velvet cushions and playing a computer game. ‘What’s your wish this evening, Gussie boy?’ asked Bling.

  ‘I want you to make the bling dust go away,’ said Gus.

  Bling’s eyes flashed like lightning and his face turned as violet as a thundercloud. Then he sat up on the couch and rearranged his jewellery. ‘Let me put it this way, my friend. I can get rid of the bling dust easily enough. But if the bling dust vanishes, so will everything you have wished for. And I will vanish from your life too. You will go back to living in a hovel and you’ll have to fish for your next meal. You wouldn’t like that, would you, my friend?’

  Gus sighed, and sat down beside the genie. ‘Alright, Bling, let me think about it. But while I’m thinking about it, I want you to bling yourself back inside your bottle.’

  ‘Whaaa…?’

  ‘You heard me, Bling. Get back inside your bottle. I’ll think about the bling dust and give you my decision at sunset tomorrow.’

  ‘It had better be the right decision, Gussie boy,’ Bling grumbled, then he blinged himself back inside the bottle.

  Gus pushed the stopper in firmly.

  That night a terrible storm raged. Wind, rain and hail blew in from the bay, smearing Gus’s mansion with bling dust. Gus stayed awake all night, listening to waves exploding on the shore below him, and all he could think about was Nina. How could her tiny hut hold up against this gale? Was it being buried in bling dust? Or washed away by waves? What if the thundering sea washed Nina away too? He thought he could hear her cries in the wind. Or were those the cries of starving birds?

  By sunrise, the storm had settled.

  Gus stayed inside for most of the day, watching movies in his home theatre. But he could not concentrate, because he kept thinking about Nina and last night’s storm and what she had told him about bling dust.

  In the mid-afternoon, he changed out of his suit and into his old fishing jacket and trousers and boots. Tucking the bottle in a pocket of his jacket, he walked down to the shore.

  The sticky yellow beach was strewn with driftwood and kelp and dead seabirds, which lay on the sand like golden statuettes.

  Gus searched the golden beach for his dinghy. An hour later he discovered it in a sand dune, half-buried in bling dust. He dug out the boat, launched it in the gleaming surf, and rowed a long way out in the bay. Then he took the bottle from his jacket, pulled out its stopper and spoke into the neck of the bottle, ‘Stay right where you are, Bling.’

  Bling whined from inside the bottle. ‘Think of everything I have given you. Gussie and Bling, we’re a team. We go together like a horse and buggy. Progress is progress and all that jazz. Oh, what fun we’ve had together, Gussie boy! Let me out again and I’ll make you even richer, more handsome and more famous than you already are.’

  ‘I’ve had fun with you,’ Gus admitted. ‘But your bling dust hasn’t done anything for the fish or the birds. Or for Nina.’

  ‘That’s her own stupid fault,’ said the genie. ‘If she had worked in your shopping complex, or taken a job as your servant, she could have been rolling in money by now.’

  A glittering sea eagle dropped out of the air, its feathers sticky with bling dust. It lay at the prow of the boat and flapped its wings weakly.

  Gus picked up the bottle and felt like smashing it against the prow of the dinghy.

  ‘BREAK THIS BOTTLE,’ Bling warned, ‘AND A CLOUD OF BLING DUST WILL BLOW ALL THE WAY AROUND THE WORLD.’

  Gus put down the bottle. ‘All right, Bling, I won’t break your bottle. But I insist that you get rid of the bling dust.’

  ‘Be careful what you wish for!’ Bling taunted.

  Bling’s bottle began to suck in bling dust. For the next hour it continued to suck the sticky glitter out of the air, land and sea. When Gus could not see a speck of bling dust anywhere, he pushed in the stopper and tossed the bottle overboard. As the bottle floated away, the sea eagle flapped its wings and launched itself into the air. It picked up the bottle in its talons and carried it away over the mountains.

  As Gus rowed back to shore, he breathed the salt air deep into his lungs and he realised how much he had missed the fresh smells of the sea. The bay was turning silver-grey with tints of yellow and orange from the setting sun. Fish began to jump all around his boat, and then the seabirds began to dive. Silver gulls, pacific gulls, prions, petrels, albatross and gannets splashed into the bay in a feeding frenzy.

  As Gus neared the shore, more colours returned to sky, water and land – shades of purple and red, with just a glint of gold in the fading sunset.
He could see his fishing village again, stretching all the way up the hill. And there was his old home, next door to Nina’s original hut.

  And the next lovely thing he noticed was Nina’s smile.

  Little Em

  Once upon a leafy sunrise, Little Emerald lay in bed listening to a chorus of bird song. ‘Time to get up, Little Em,’ said her mother, swinging open the bedroom door.

  ‘But Ma, it’s Saturday,’ Little Em protested. ‘I don’t have to go to school today.’

  ‘No dear, but Granny hasn’t been well lately,’ said her mother. ‘A visit from you this morning should cheer her up.’

  Little Em loved her granny. And she loved the walk through the forest to Granny’s cottage. So she changed out of her little green pyjamas, and put on her little green skirt and little green hoodie. Then she trotted down the hall to the kitchen, where Mrs Ryding-Hoode handed her a bowl of steaming porridge.

  Little Em sniffed. There was a luscious aroma in the kitchen and it wasn’t the porridge.

  Mrs Ryding-Hoode put on her oven mitts and pulled a tray of cheese and chive muffins from the oven. She let the muffins cool for a bit before saying, ‘On the way to Granny’s, dear, you could call in on Auntie Flo and Uncle Ced and Little Scarlett.’

  Em screwed up her face at the thought of her cousin, Little Scarlett. ‘Ma, you know how I feel about Scarlett. She’s always making up crazy stories and expecting everybody to believe them.’

  ‘Her stories are a bit wild,’ said Mrs Ryding-Hoode, packing the muffins into a wicker basket. ‘But you don’t have to stay long. Just say hello and then hurry off to Granny’s. But remember, don’t talk to strangers on the way. And always keep on the track.’

  Em took the basket of muffins, opened the door and slipped her feet into her shiny green gumboots.

  ‘And watch out for wolves,’ her mother warned.

  ‘Wolves?’ Little Em chuckled. ‘Sure, Ma. I’ll watch out for dragons, hobgoblins and grizzly bears as well. Oh, you’re such a worry-wart. You know as well as I do that no wolves have lived in this forest for at least a hundred years.’

  Waving goodbye to her mother, Emerald set off for Granny’s. Soon she was skipping along merrily, swinging the basket of muffins to and fro. As she skipped through the dappled sunlight and the leafy shadows, she listened to the bird calls, trying to work out whether the chirping came from flame robins, dusky pink robins or superb fairy wrens.

  Before long she found herself thinking about wolves. She had seen a wolf once, when Granny had taken her to the city zoo. Little Em knew that zoos protect animals which might otherwise die out in the wild, but this creature had looked starved for freedom. He had seemed so miserable and restless as he prowled backwards and forwards in his cage. Then the wolf had stopped prowling and thrust his shaggy head through the bars, staring, first at her, and then at Granny, as if he was silently begging them to unlock his cage. Em wondered if one day, those wolfish eyes might melt somebody’s heart, and if that soft-hearted person might set the wolf free to run through the forest.

  Emerald heard footsteps padding behind her and the hairs on her arms and legs sprang upright. A black nose was sniffing her basket of muffins. If she had not been wearing her little green hoodie, the hair on her head might have stood upright too, for the black nose belonged to a wolf! The same wolf she had seen in the city zoo, she was sure of it. ‘Don’t eat me!’ she squealed.

  The wolf grasped a cheese and chive muffin in his wide jaws and gobbled it down.

  ‘Oh, I get it,’ said Little Em. ‘You’re hungry for muffins, not little girls. But I don’t think muffins are quite the right diet for wolves.’

  The wolf gobbled another muffin and ran away into the woods.

  Little Em heard the sound of a chopping axe ringing through the forest. She kept walking along the track until she saw Uncle Ced splitting logs outside his woodshed. She wondered whether to tell him about the wolf but decided against it. The wolf hadn’t harmed her, after all. He had only eaten a couple of Granny’s muffins. And she knew what Uncle Ced was like. If he knew there was a wolf in the forest he would try to kill it.

  Uncle Ced stopped chopping when he saw his saw his niece. ‘Hey, Little Emerald, you’ve just missed Little Scarlett. Poor Granny hasn’t been well lately, so she’s taking her some pumpkin scones. Would you like to come inside for a drink of milk?’

  ‘No thanks, Uncle Ced,’ Em replied. ‘I’m headed to Granny’s too. I’ll catch up with Scarlett there. Tell Auntie Flo I’ll drop in on my way back.’

  Em set off down the track. She had almost arrived at Granny’s cottage when her cousin came speeding down the path towards her, her face as red as a ripe raspberry under her little red hoodie. ‘Help! Help!’ Little Scarlett screamed. ‘Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Little Em! I’ve got the stitch and can’t run any faster. I have some terrible news. A wolf has gobbled up poor dear Granny. Run and tell my dad to bring his axe!’

  Em stared at her cousin. ‘Scarlett, are you quite sure a wolf has eaten Granny?’

  Scarlett stamped a little red gumboot. ‘You never believe a word I say, Em. I wish we weren’t related. But I tell you I did see a wolf. I did. And he really did gobble up Granny.’

  Em narrowed her eyes in disbelief. ‘Did you see the wolf eating Granny?’

  Little Scarlett stamped her other little red gumboot. ‘I tell you the wolf did gobble up Granny! I’m telling the truth and nothing but the truth. This is exactly what happened, Em. I knocked on the door to Granny’s cottage but no-one answered. The door was unlocked so I went inside and put my basket of scones on the kitchen table.

  ‘“Come in, my dear,” a gravelly voice called from the bedroom.

  ‘I knew Granny had been ill, and I thought she was losing her voice. So I opened the door to her bedroom and saw a wolf tucked up in her bed. He was wearing Granny’s nightie and bed bonnet. “Oh Granny, what big eyes you have!” I said.

  ‘“All the better to see you with, my dear!” growled the wolf.

  ‘“Oh Granny, what a big nose you have!”

  ‘“All the better to smell you with!” growled the wolf.

  ‘“Oh Granny, what big teeth you have!”

  ‘“All the better to eat you with, my dear,” he snarled. Then he leaped out of bed and chased me around Granny’s cottage. But I beat him to the front door and slammed it behind me. And now I am going to get my daddy to kill the wolf and chop open his tummy. Then Granny will step out and make us a cup of tea and we’ll all live happily ever after.’

  Little Em was amazed. Her cousin had told some madcap stories before, but this was the wackiest she had ever heard. ‘Let me get this straight, Little Scarlett,’ she said. ‘You want me to believe that a wolf ate Granny, then dressed in her nightie and bed bonnet, and climbed into Granny’s bed?’

  ‘That’s exactly what happened!’ Little Scarlett insisted.

  ‘And the wolf spoke to you in English?’

  Scarlet rolled her eyes. ‘Of course he spoke English. If he spoke wolfish, or any other language, I wouldn’t have understood a word he said.’

  ‘Oh, Little Scarlett,’ said Little Em, ‘what big lies you tell!’

  ‘I TELL YOU I DID SEE A WOLF,’ Little Scarlett raged. Then she stomped away in her little red gumboots, screaming, ‘HELP! HELP! DADDY, GET YOUR AXE. A WOLF HAS EATEN GRANNY!’

  When Em arrived at Granny’s cottage, she knocked cautiously on the door.

  There was no answer, so she tiptoed around the side of the cottage and peeped through a window into Granny’s bedroom.

  The wolf was fast asleep on Granny’s bed. The same wolf Little Em had seen in the forest. But he was not wearing Granny’s nightclothes, and there were no signs of blood and gore anywhere.

  Not knowing what else to do, Em sat on the doorstep and began to eat a cheese and chive muffin.

  A few minutes later, Uncle Ced rushed up, brandishing his axe. ‘Little Em, you must go back to my place and stay there until I come back.�
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  But instead of leaving, Emerald stood up to block his way into Granny’s cottage. ‘Uncle Ced, don’t you know that wolves are a rare and endangered animal?’

  Uncle Ced gritted his teeth. ‘Do as I say, Em. Wolves are wild and dangerous creatures. And if there’s a wolf in Granny’s house, then I’m going to kill it!’ He stepped around Little Em and opened the door to Granny’s cottage.

  Little Em rushed inside after him. ‘But you have no proof that the wolf has killed Granny.’

  Uncle Ced put his finger to his lips, tiptoed through the kitchen and opened the door to Granny’s bedroom. He raised the axe and crept over to the bed.

  ‘DON’T HURT HIM, UNCLE CED!’ Em screamed.

  The wolf opened his eyes, looked up at Uncle Ced’s axe and snarled.

  Just then, Granny stepped inside her cottage, carrying a handful of sticks she had been collecting in the forest. ‘Cedric, put down that axe!’ she ordered.

  Uncle Ced tried to explain to his mother that he was trying to save her from the big bad wolf.

  ‘Big bad wolf, what poppycock!’ Granny snorted. Then she walked over to the bed and scratched the wolf behind his ears. ‘Poor Loopie. Did big bad Uncle Cedric give you a nasty fright? Well, he won’t be doing that again, I promise you. So why don’t you finish your nap in the forest, Loopie, while I have a chat to my son about the need to care for endangered creatures.’

  Loopie grinned slyly at Uncle Ced. Then he slunk off the bed, trotted out of Granny’s cottage and away into the forest.

  ‘Oh, what have we here?’ asked Granny, noticing a basket of pumpkin scones on the table.

  ‘Little Scarlett brought them earlier,’ Em explained. ‘And I’ve brought some cheese and chive muffins. They’re outside. I’ll just go and get them.’

  Granny put the firewood in the woodstove and put on the kettle. When little Em returned with the muffins she said, ‘Well then, it must be time for morning tea.’