This beautiful book from real humans for illustration only!
Mother Jones: “AI Is Coming for Your Toddler’s Bedtime Story – Artificial intelligence poses an increasingly real threat to children’s literature — and children’s learning” warns Lily Meyer.
As a long-time reader of Paula Bardell-Hedley’s prodigiously interesting blog, Winding Up the Week, I came across this snippet (29/11/2025) https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2025/11/ai-childrens-books/ and Mother Jones certainly sinks the boot into publishing houses. I let fly with the following embellished comments recorded below:
I said “That’s appalling” because Mother Jones said: “AI Is Coming for Your Toddler’s Bedtime Story.” Having read, written and attended courses on writing and illustrating picture books and stories for young children I can voucher for the fact that they come from the heart. Children’s books are not written quickly, or rubber-stamped, and many are written by a teacher or parent who has hands on experience. You cannot dumb-down a child’s story nor can it be over-embellished.
If you have read “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse” by superb British author Charlie Mackesy you should also consider the consequences to children’s artists and illustrators.
Some things in life are too precious, too personal for publishers to tamper with, and I truly hope a computer generated AI will never comprehend the nuance of a child’s reading enjoyment. Better still stay away from young readers.
We need Self Before AI for our future of adaptability and mental stability. The old saying “If you don’t use it you lose it” is needed by a world of people staring too much at their screens. Read with a child, turn the human created/real pages, explain what you both see, let the child colour in some pages, nod off to sleep with the book. Make a picture book a family friend with wrinkled pages and maybe a food stain because it’s all part of the warmth of a human learning experience.
I know from personal and practical contact that children’s books are written by authors with kind hearts, then read by a trusted mature human to enhance a trusting young human’s reading journey through life. No AI need apply.
The Little Bookroom is at a turning point. You can help to give it a new home, a new chapter, and a future that honours its extraordinary past.
Melbourne’s beloved The Little Bookroom was founded by Albert Ullin OAM in 1960. The Little Bookroom was Australia’s very first bookstore dedicated solely to children’s literature.
Over time, it has become something even rarer — a living legacy to the power of books, imagination, and community. In fact, it is now the oldest children’s bookshop in the world!
For more than six decades, it has been a haven for readers young and old, a meeting place for authors and illustrators, and a cultural treasure for Australia, and the global children’s book community.
Michael Earp writes – “I’ve dedicated my life to children’s and young adult literature. I was The Little Bookroom manager from 2018–2022, and in 2021 I was awarded the Bookseller of the Year by Book People (the Australian Booksellers Association). I believe this beautiful bookshop deserves to celebrate its 65th birthday — and many more to come.”
Quote This children’s bookstore has weathered many moves and challenges over the years. Most recently, the pandemic and personal circumstances. The incredible Lambert family who cared for The Little Bookroom for 17 years made the decision to step away.
—Michael Earp—
You can step in, says Michael! The doors at St Georges Road have closed but this doesn’t have to be the end.
Secure a new home for The Little Bookroom (location to be announced soon!)
Fit out the new space with shelving, technology, and event essentials.
Ensure accessibility so all families and readers feel welcome.
Reopen with strong, diverse book stock from day one.
Host the storytimes, launches, book clubs, and school services that make The Little Bookroom a vital part of the community.
Share in the joy of knowing you’ve helped save a piece of children’s literary history! I can see children sitting reading, totally absorbed in their books.
Michael Earp continues: “As a non-binary writer and bookseller living in Naarm/Melbourne, Australia, with over 23 years experience in bookselling and publishing as a Children’s Book specialist. I’ve worked with publishers like Walker Books and Affirm Press, and bookstores including Kinokuniya, Borders, The Younger Sun, and (of course) The Little Bookroom.“
Also, Michael hold a Masters in Children’s Literature and a Bachelors degree in Early Childhood Education, and is currently Chair of the Board for Q-Lit, Victoria’s Queer Literature Festival. Also the editor and contributor to Everything Under the Moon: Fairy tales in a queerer light; Kindred: 12 Queer #LoveOzYA Stories; and Avast! Pirate Stories by Transgender Authors, co-edited by Alison Evans.
Michael passionately believes in creating spaces where every child can see themselves in the stories they read, and adds “I’m not asking for help with ongoing costs. I’m asking for a launchpad — a chance to give The Little Bookroom the future it deserves.”
If every person who has fond memories of the St Georges Rd, Fitzroy North bookstore, who believes in the importance of children’s literature or who wants to see this cultural landmark continue — if every one of you gives even a little — it can live on!
All donations will be received by Michael Earp and used to cover costs involved with the moving and set up of The Little Bookroom in a new location so that the shop has the best chance of a long future. I have donated. The more raised by this GoFundMe the more it will reduce the amount of money needed to borrow. Therefore, the new shop can open on a solid foundation and focus on thriving into a wonderful reading future.
Books Rule! 📚💗 Edited by Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2025
Note:No raffles, sweepstakes, giveaways, or returns on investment are offered in exchange for any donations made to this GoFundMe. Link: https://gofund.me/98a13b4f
Just could not go past these two new children’s books without buying them! I am sure many younger and older readers will enjoy reading them too. One is fabulous fun with fine furry friends, and the other is an exciting adventure with intrepid young orphans in the big city. Read on…
A truly delightful book from start to finish. In ‘Hazel’s Treehouse’ author Zanni Louise has created adorable characters and oh so wonderful dialogue between a young girl Hazel and her four Australian bush animal friends. The treehouse is a snug place from which stories unfold and adventures begin. There are lovely little kindness explanations from Hazel when things go awry or plans go askew. She is like the older sister with rambunctious siblings, the one who peps things up or calms things down by showing a different way of looking at situations; particularly taming the dark before bedtime. But not always, as in ‘Small Pants Friday’ the rainy-stuck-inside-day when everyone gets a bit grumbly.
Then there’s Kevin, their new neighbour who has a continent-sized smile but a troubling agenda which causes Poky echidna to turn a bothered colour of grey. I’ll let you find out how that turns out. In ‘Hazel’s Treehouse’ the creativity, seasonal indoor and outdoor fun are beautifully rendered by Judy Watson, her joyous illustrations enhance the story and my favourite character is Odette, an active pademelon wallaby. When a little burst of reading happiness is needed, it is well worth having this gem on your kidlit bookshelf. Also suitable for a little bit of inspiration on those long lazy summer holidays. GBW 2024
Totally besotted with this book! I have read and adored previous books by author/illustrator Judith Rossell, featuring intrepid Stella Montgomery, and loved the stories so much I couldn’t wait to get my hands on a hardcover copy of ‘The Midwatch’ featuring unwanted orphan Maggie Fishbone and her adventures in what I think may be a parallel universe; although disconcertingly similar to early twentieth century America.
Maggie is banished to the notorious Midwatch Institute for Orphans and everything happens from there. Immersive, detailed and beautifully illustrated this is so unlike the world I inhabit yet similar at the same time. It is a story of fearless kind brave clever young characters speaking in the vernacular of that time, ready to face airships, scary monsters and villains. What does the ritzy Tiergarten Hotel hold..? A wardrobe but no lion, something far more ferocious. Then humour pops up at unexpected times.
Chapter 14, in the city library, is one of my favourites. “Nell’s eyes were shining. ‘I never knew there were so many books,’ she whispered. ‘Imagine reading them all. You’d know just about everything in the world, wouldn’t you?” As the story evolves, Maggie and her cohort have so much to investigate, a valuable brooch, a kidnapped friend, leading the reader not only with words and deeds, tension and suspense, but through the superb visualisations, and the occasional odd tip like “How to Escape from Quicksand”. I think this book is the bees knees for middle grade school readers looking for something different featuring engaging young adventurers. Good gravy there is even a chocolate cake recipe! GBW 2024
Rich dark chocolate cake baked by Dot Bernet from ‘The Midwatch’ recipe by author/illustrator Judith Rossell 2024
About Me: Reader, Writer, Reviewer, Blogger. My book reviews cover many genres and I don’t believe in writing one side of my reading experience. There are chunks of praise and criticism. Favourite books are Crime, Quirky, Mystery, History but much more.
Call me timid (Neil Gaiman books scare me) but this is a ferociously upsetting fantasy story of an ancient Yew tree and an adolescent boy awash with fear, sadness, anger, and the unforgiveable nature of death.
Conor O’Malley’s mother is dying in hospital. Conor and his father and grandmother are not handling it well. One night Conor gets up and goes over to his bedroom window and looks out. A monstrous untameable Yew tree stands near his house, looking right back at him. It proceeds to raise a gnarled woody fist to punch through the wall of his bedroom. The monster says “I will tell you Three Stories. Three tales from when I walked before.” But Conor sends the monster away and it’s gone for the time being.
Of course it returns, laced with dark fantasy and symbolism, and eventually the Fourth Tale comes from twelve year old Conor himself. What does Conor and the reader learn from this? Many things. Note, I personally would not recommend either the book or movie for children of a young age, it could raise more fears than it can soothe. You may love it!
So that’s my short synopsis of a tense, wrenchingly sad story written by Patrick Ness about imagination and the monstrous fears within us. It contains school-yard violence, sweet Lily, ancient tree wisdom and modern day parenting which leaves Conor awash with misery, confusion and a bad temper for everyone apart from his sick mother.
This story could be shelved in the Fantasy/Horror section of a library except for its very serious topic and acutely observed symptoms of grief; a complicated boy lashing out at everyone, unable to alleviate his mother’s suffering nor deal with her impending death. Time grinds on regardless, Conor’s bossy grandmother arrives and nothing is as it seems. Allegory, clock metaphor, various telling moments.
As mentioned, I personally think this story is best read by an adult to younger children so questions can be answered. A guide book of sorts, reality is hard to understand, dying even harder to accept, but eventually it’s a bitter fact of life we all have to face. It’s up to the individual reader to find their own way through the story; ending with comfort, confusion or clarity?
A text layout which will appeal to young readers and older readers reading the book to younger readers. A gem of a story from author Deborah Abela who wrote inside ‘I hope you enjoy this little dose of kindness!’ For me it’s more than a dose, it’s a great big generous helping, with thanks to Zanni Louise for my copy.
Of course things don’t start off all sweetness and light, oh no, there’s shy Nicolette, DJ a bully and various obstacles to conquer. Along comes Leaf, a kid you will recognise (and hope in hindsight that you were nice to him). He deserves niceness and big bunches of kindness. Where is his mother?
Both Leaf and Nicolette have troubled backgrounds. They become friends but not before Nicolette imagines all sorts of disasters. Her mind goes off on fearful tangents, she tends to think worst-case scenario and moments do go awry. Ideally ‘You tell someone your worries and they don’t laugh or tease you or call you names, they just listen’ although it does seem like her Nanna is getting a raw deal in the aged care system. The drama is heightened and Nicolette and Nanna make daring plans. What could go wrong?
Event sold out!
I think the type-setting and font changes for this book are brilliant and I haven’t had this much fun since Oliver Jeffers ‘The Incredible Book Eating Boy’. Parents are distracted and teacher Ms Skye, doesn’t seem to notice classroom dynamics but she gives the class a school project. ‘The Kindness Project’ and anyone who has ever done this type of school assignment will groan in sympathy. Coming up with ideas is hard but when you have an obstructive, rude classmate like DJ throwing nasty comments around, the task becomes a hundred times harder.
Naturally Nicolette and Leaf team up but will their combined ideas be enough? Can they create understanding and kindness throughout their school and beyond? Honesty is the best policy but it’s a big ask for young kids with family problems weighing them down.
My heart and mind collide and I shed a happy tear towards the end – mushy I know. While I would like a stronger sense-of-place, the characters do make up for it and Deborah Abela (Ambassador for Room to Read.org) writes young realism in a way which makes reading this story both meaningful and enjoyable.
Is our cartoon star Bluey from Brisbane (seen here in the suburb of Sherwood) living up to the Blue Heeler herding tag, or did the Ibis shout “Chasey! Bet I can beat you!” My money is on the Ibis because, unlike an Emu, the Ibis can fly.
The Australian White Ibis was once known as the Sacred Ibis but is sadly now often referred to as a “bin chicken, tip turkey or dumpster diver”. They tend to be opportunistic scavengers and can often be spotted at rubbish tips and in city parks. However, they are harmless to humans.
But first some facts on Bluey: Bluey is an Australian animated television series for school children which premiered on ABC Kids. The cartoon program was created by Joe Brumm and is produced by Queensland-based company Ludo Studio. The stories follow Bluey, an anthropomorphic six-year-old (later seven-year-old) Blue Heeler puppy who is characterised by her abundance of energy, imagination and curiosity about the world. The young dog lives with her father, Bandit, mother, Chilli, and her younger sister Bingo who regularly joins Bluey on adventures through imaginative play. Other characters featured each represent a different dog breed. Overarching themes include focus on family, growing up and Australian culture. Ostensibly for children, the program is watched by all age groups. Bluey was created and produced in Queensland and the capital city Brisbane inspires the show’s settings.
The Australian Museum website has White Ibis details but here’s some further reading—
The Australian white ibis (Threskiornis molucca) is a wading bird of the ibis family, Threskiornithidae. It is widespread across much of Australia. It has a predominantly white plumage with a bare, black head, long downcurved bill, and black legs. While it is closely related to the African sacred ibis, the Australian white ibis is a native Australian bird. Contrary to urban myth, it is not a feral species introduced to Australia by people, and it does not come from Egypt.
Historically rare in urban areas, populations have disappeared from natural breeding areas such as the Macquarie Marshes in northern New South Wales and urban populations in Sydney. However, the Australian white ibis has established in urban areas of the east coast in increasing numbers since the late 1970s; it is now commonly seen in and around Wollongong, Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide, Darwin, the Gold Coast, Brisbane and Townsville. In recent years, the bird has also become increasingly common in Perth, Western Australia and surrounding towns. As yet it has not been sighted in Tasmania.
Aussies love a good nickname and, as mentioned, due to the Ibis increasing presence in the urban environment and its habit of rummaging in garbage, this protected species has acquired a variety of colloquial names such as “bin chicken”. In recent years these birds have become an icon of Australia’s popular culture, regarded with glee by some and passionate dislike by others. I don’t hinder their Ibis lunch in the park and they (so far) don’t disrupt mine.
A few years ago I was part of a creative writers group named the Duck Pond. Its participants, flourishing new authors, are nicknamed Duckies. Yes, I was one of those Duckies and so was Zanni Louise. As is the way of the world, I faded away but Jen Storer’s Duck Pond and independent Zanni are still creating. Naturally I follow them closely although I’m not writing as much in the way of children’s stories these days. Currently I have discovered the fun in limericks and force them upon my unsuspecting friends. But I digress, this blog post is all about Zanni Louise, her soaring literary career and super-exciting writers trip to sun-soaked Tuscany, Italy. My apologies for the small typeface and random display of images (my technical glitch) but you can still read the exciting highlights in Zanni’s personal newsletter below! ❤ Gretchen Bernet-Ward
“A NEW MONTH, A NEW BOOK… AND COME WRITE WITH ME IN ITALY” SAYS ZANNI
Hi! I’m Zanni Louise, living and writing full-time in Northern NSW, Australia. I’m the author of over thirty-five bestselling and internationally published books for kids. My latest middle-grade book Cora Seen and Heard is out this May with Walker Books. This newsletter takes you behind the scenes of my writing life, and keeps you up-to-date with latest books, retreats and courses. A new month, a new book… and come write with me in Italy. This month, I am excited to launch my new book Cora Seen and Heard. Plus, hear about Deborah Abela’s new book, enter a two-book giveaway and register for our Italian writing retreat in 2025.
My new book Cora Seen and Heard has been launched into the world… image how you felt when you were twelve? A while back, I was reconnecting with twelve-year-old Zanni—phew, there was a lot going on in that little brain. Questions like, How come everyone has it sorted? and How can I unify the person in my head with the person in the world? and Does anyone like me? If so, why?! Are they mad? I kept reams of journals full of questions. It wasn’t until years later, I realised so many people wrestle with these thoughts and feelings. I also realised that being vulnerable and embracing my flaws meant I connected with others. Connections have always been one of the most important things for me. Fast forward to grown-up Zanni, who still doesn’t have it sorted but no longer worries so much about it.
Inspiration:Grown-up Zanni came across a picture of an abandoned ballroom by French photographer Francis Meslet and boy, was I moved by this image! I wanted to set a story here. Twelve-year-old Cora moves to an abandoned theatre in a small country town called Caroline Creek, Tasmania, and the poor thing has to wrestle with the headspace of twelve-year-old Zanni. I started writing Cora Seen and Heard in lockdown 2021. To hold the actual book in my hand years later is the dream. To read the lovely reviews, to sit with film producers at Adaptable this month to talk about it, to know it’s in bookshops as of today.
My friend Deborah Abela asks me if there’s any of Zanni in this book. Well, yes. There’s a lot. My thoughts, feelings, personality, blood, sweat (thankfully no tears) and a whole lotta love. Because every book deserves that, at minimum, and every reader does too. So this is my soul laid bared. I hope you enjoy the ride. Have a read of the first few chapters here. Buy the book at any bookstore you’d like to support. Signed copies are available through Book Room Collective and a special 20% bulk discount + free Zoom visit for book clubs and classrooms is available through Gleebooks. Contact Rachel for details.
Cora Seen and Heard Author Zanni Louise—Junior Fiction SYNOPSIS: Cora Lane gets tongue-tied, is often ignored and would rather hide in the library than step onto a stage. However, when her parents decide to renovate an old theatre in small-town Tasmania, Cora realises this is the perfect opportunity for her to reinvent her personality. Cora quickly slips back into her old ways and once again makes friends with the librarian rather than kids her own age. She feels lost, frustrated she’s not the person she wants to be and she shares her deepest feelings with her imaginary pen pal. The last thing she would expect is for her letters to go missing. And now, the real Cora Lane is about to go public—but is she ready?
Introducing The Kindness Project—This month, Deborah Abela launches her brand new book The Kindness Project which is a verse novel about four kids who are flung together to work on a school project and come to understand the meaning of kindness. It’s one of the bravest, most experimental, most moving books I have read in a long time. If you’re in Queensland, please join Deb and I for a joint launch Wednesday 22 May 2024 at Where The Wild Things Are bookshop in West End, Brisbane. A family ticket will get you a book!
Creative Corner with Deborah Abela. Each month, I invite an author friend to reflect on their creative process. This month, we hear from Deborah Abela.THE KINDNESS PROJECT – The Novel that Demanded to be Verse. ‘It all started with a scene’ says Deborah. A young kid called Nicolette kidnaps her nanna from a nursing home—AKA Alcatraz. I thought it would be a light-hearted novel about the love between a kid and her nanna, in the same way I loved my strong, feisty nanna. But, as with all my novels, I started asking questions and everything changed. Who is this kid? Why are she and Nanna so close? Where’s Grandpop? Why is Nanna in a nursing home and why does Nicolette want to kidnap her? What about her friends? And her mum? And most importantly… what is the story really about? That kidnapping scene became just one part of the story. In fact, it’s the inciting incident that hurtles the novel into the second act, where much bigger dilemmas are faced. I’ve written 30 books, all in prose, but this novel demanded to be written in verse, which I’ve never done before. I’ve always LOVED verse novels, but I kept thinking, ‘I can’t write in verse! I have no idea what I’m doing’. But the novel was insistent, so I tentatively started and soon found it freeing and fun! Not only did I have to tell the story in short, sharp verses, getting to the point of each verse very quickly, I also played with form, fonts, font size and verse length, which together, create the feel and meaning of the story.
Signed Book Giveaway! To help Deb and I celebrate our new books, we’d love to invite you to join our competition where we will be giving away a signed copy of The Kindness Project and Cora Seen and Heard. To enter, share our news with a friend or your community and let me know. Entries close midnight 5th May 2024. Australian addresses only please.
So, how about that Tuscan writing retreat? Yes, it’s happening! Spend three days with me in the Italian countryside next April 2025 alongside two wonderful US literary agents, Lori Kilkelly and Ammi-Joan Paquette, and an exceptionally talented Italian illustrator, Gaia Bordicchia. Lori and Ammi-Joan will offer pitch and first page critiques. Gaia will run a workshop, as will I. The location is beautiful. Honestly. I nearly fall over every time I look at the pictures. Held at picturesque Ancora del Chianti, 30 km from Florence, you can relax in your own room, wander the gardens and enjoy the communal areas. Fresh meals will be provided for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Vegetarian options available. This could be you! Between workshops and private sessions, you will have ample opportunity to work on your creative projects. We will also facilitate peer-to-peer feedback. The retreat will be held just after the Bologna Book Fair next year, meaning you can travel to Italy for more than one children’s book experience! There are very limited spaces. And honestly, I think this is going to be one of the best experiences of my life. I hope you can join me. Register here.
Fabulous stage and screen actors reading gloriously fun books. I listened to eight beautifully narrated sound clips by Kate Winslet, Hugh Laurie, Richard Ayoade, Miriam Margolyes, Stephen Fry, Andrew Scott, Chris O’Dowd––and I’ve just drooled over Dan Stevens short reading of Roald Dahl’s famous ‘Boy’. What a selection!
Reviewed by Rachel Smalter Hall for Book Riot way back in 2013 who gushed:
“Rioters, I’m so excited. I just can’t hide it. I’ve been holding my breath to share this with you for weeks! The new upswing in audiobook publishing has sent lots of publishers to their backlist to record beloved classics, and one of my favorite projects in this vein is from Penguin Audio, who just released several Roald Dahl audiobooks in July and will release several more this September. The series features some of the UK’s best known screen and stage actors. Here are sound clips from eight of the narrations that have got me squealing like a thirteen-year-old at a slumber party.”
I SAY IT’LL MAKE YOUR EARS HAPPY––SMILES GUARANTEED
TAP ON EACH INDIVIDUAL TEASER WHICH I HAVE CAREFULLY SELECTED FOR YOU FROM A LOVINGLY CURATED ROALD DAHL SOUNDCLOUD PLAYLIST
I found their voices soothing, hypnotic and hilariously infectious.
What more can be said except ENJOY!
♥Gretchen Bernet-Ward
I do reviews not advertisements but––Thanks to Penguin Books Ltd and Book Riot who say “Sign up for our newsletter to have the best of Book Riot delivered straight to your inbox every two weeks. No spam. We promise. To keep up with Book Riot on a daily basis, follow us on Twitter, like us on Facebook, , subscribe to the Book Riot podcast in iTunes or via RSS. So much bookish goodness––all day, every day.”
My short story mentions a rural event known as a show.
Alternate names can be exhibition, county fair or agfest.
Looks of disbelief washed across the children’s faces. Robbo’s face shone with a self-satisfied smile. Next to his work boots lay Dugger, his Labrador dog, who raised an eyelid then went back to sleep.
A snort came from school teacher, Miss Evelyn, and all eyes turned to her as she gathered up her patchwork squares.
“What a lot of nonsense,” she said as she stuffed sewing material into her carrybag. “Brookfield Show eve and you’re going to fill their heads with fantasy.”
One of the younger children put his hand up.
“Did it really happened, Robbo?”
Robbo said “Yes” at the same time Evelyn snapped “No” and the young boy retracted his hand in disappointment.
“Can you prove it?” asked Angela, an older girl with jet black hair and thoughtful eyes. She was one of many third generation Brookfield students whom Miss Evelyn had known from babyhood.
“Hmm,” Robbo said thoughtfully. If he had a beard, he would have stroked it in contemplation. “I reckon I can try.”
Robbo was a well-known local figure, a carpenter by trade who could turn his hand to any odd job around the residences in the area. He and Dugger were a volunteer Story Dog team at the local school.
Today they had veered off topic and instead of the slow readers reading, Robbo had tantalised them with an opening salvo to his tale.
“Start from the beginning,” Miss Evelyn sniffed “so we can get into the right mood.”
The children chuckled nervously and settled themselves back on the kindergarten cushions. Some of the older boys had objected to being in the kindy room but the seating arrangements were more comfortable than their classroom, currently overflowing with paintings and craft waiting transfer to the Show pavilions.
Miss Evelyn settled herself down again like a kookaburra shuffling her feathers. A couple of the young ones inched closer to her, hoping for motherly support should the need arise.
“Okay,” Robbo rubbed his hands together. “Here goes!” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. A security thumb or two was popped in, soft toys were hugged and someone let off a smell.
“It wasn’t a dark and stormy night, in fact, it wasn’t dark but there was a rain cloud,” began Robbo, lowering his voice, “and two small brown wallabies grazing in a paddock near the Showgrounds.” His eyes roved the attentive audience. “A large crow was sitting high in a nearby gumtree when––” Robbo clapped his hands and everyone jumped. “A bolt of lightning struck the gumtree and the crow flew away. The lightning had ignited the tree and fire was crackling fiercely through it branches before someone in the general store rang the fire brigade.”
Everyone wriggled then settled again, eyes just that bit wider. “The flames had reached the ground and were burning towards the Brookfield Showgrounds at a furious pace.” Robbo looked around. “Where are those two wallabies?”
A hand shot up and the timid voice of Frederick of the smells said “They ran away to safety.”
Robbo shook his head. “No, they were still there. And you know what?” He raised his calloused hands high in the air above his head. “They had turned into giant wallabies.” Then, for extra emphasis, he stood up and reached for the ceiling. His fingers almost dislodged a butterfly mobile but it added to the atmosphere as they fluttered wildly around his uncombed hair.
“These were energised wallabies, they had super powers and were big enough to roll the Ferris wheel away.”
The group froze; Frederick crouched ready to run.
An older boy scoffed “Yeah, but what can they do about the fire?”
Nodding heads inspired him to add “Maybe the crow flew to get help?”
Robbo pulled a face and told them the crow was another story. Sitting down, he attempted a sage storyteller voice.
“They bounded over a fence to Moggill Creek and began drinking lots and lots of water. It tasted a bit like dirt and leaves and stuff but they guzzled until they were full. It was difficult for them to walk so they sort of rolled back towards the outer fence. It flattened and they put themselves right in the path of the oncoming blaze. With puffed cheeks and one big blast like a wall of creek water, they hosed over the flames until they went out.” He cleared his throat. “Of course, the smoke made them cough and they had to wipe their eyes but all in all they didn’t even get their fur singed.”
“What happened next,” shouted two girls in unison, grabbing each other’s hands. “Did they get a medal? Or a free pass to the Show?”
Miss Evelyn pursed her lips and shushed them.
Robbo’s expression sobered. “Not that simple, I’m afraid.”
Dugger shifted position on the floor and put his bony jaw on his paws, the seams of his orange vest creaking beneath him.
“The two giant wallabies heard a sound,” continued Robbo, “and turned to see that stray sparks had ignited inside the main Showground and were crackling and spitting across the dry leaves, past the arena, towards the agricultural buildings and meeting hall. Oh no, historical buildings.”
Nobody saw Miss Evelyn trying to swallow a laugh and regain her composure.
“Surely the local fire brigade would have arrived by now?” she said.
“Their siren could be heard in the distance,” said Robbo, “and the general store had put up makeshift road blocks to stop traffic. The store owner was hosing down the store and the giant wallabies knew if they were seen by him, their cover would be blown. After one mighty spurt of water, they shrunk and hopped off into the distance, far away, up towards Mount Elphinstone. There is a cave high on Mount Elphinstone where, legend has it, two wallabies sit and keep watch over the dry land.”
Robbo surveyed his listeners. “The paint had been blistered off some buildings, and a palm tree was sooty but it survived and a quick paint job fixed the rest.”
“Phew, that’s a relief,” said one of Angela’s younger siblings and everyone laughed. Apparently they shared similar thoughts – the cake pavilion housing their entries sitting under cling wrap on paper plates. “And sideshow alley,” thought Miss Evelyn.
“However,” Robbo spoke at full volume, causing several children to squeak, “whenever there is lightening in Brookfield, or a barbecue out of control, you are wise to stay away from the flames because the giant wallabies will activate.”
“But,” said Frederick gravely, “they are our friends and they would protect us.”
“True, true.” Robbo was momentarily fazed. Even asleep, Dugger thumped his tail in encouragement. Robbo rallied “Just don’t get in the way of giant wallabies at work. Like flood waters, giant wallabies could unleash a wave of water which would wash you off your feet and into Moggill Creek.”
Miss Evelyn puckered her brow. “Robbo, please. No more scary stories.”
Robbo avoided her gaze, patting Dugger and adjusting his leather collar.
“Show’s over, kids.”
Determinedly, single-minded Angela spoke up. “You said you had proof.”
Judging by the looks Miss Evelyn saw on the younger faces, caps nervously twisted between little fingers, they did not want proof.
“Sure,” replied Robbo with an airy wave of his hand. “If you go into the pony club grounds near the Brookfield Cemetery, you’ll spy a bleached eucalyptus tree trunk. That’s the one which got struck by lightning.”
“Also,” piped a helpful voice from the sidelines, “I’ve seen wallabies.”
The collective chatter was enough to wake Dugger. He got to his paws, shook his furry head and looked around. He let out a sharp bark and ran to the open door. With a slight pause to sniff the air, he bounded out of the room.
The space Dugger left seemed suspended, a motionless void.
“Wallabies,” whispered Frederick.
The electronic school bell sounded, breaking the spell.
“Lunch time, children.” Miss Evelyn rose and smoothed her tartan skirt. “After lunch we have choir rehearsal for the opening ceremony.”
As the children helped stack cushions in the corner, Miss Evelyn turned to Robbo.
“Was Dugger motivated by the aroma of tuckshop pies or something bigger?”
Robbo shrugged. “That dog has a great sense of theatre.”
She wagged her finger. “Giant wallabies or not, the Show must go on.”
♥Gretchen Bernet-Ward
AUTHOR NOTE: This short story is dedicated with love and respect to Kookaburra Kat of KR, a long-time friend who supports and encourages my literary endeavours and is a passionate wildlife warrior, nurturing and caring for all creatures. GBW.
As I left the local gym, a rat scampered towards me waving a crumpled envelope.
“You’re Bertha East, right?” he squeaked. I started to explain I was Bertha West but he let the envelope flutter to the footpath and raced off. I scooped it up and saw on the back that it was from Duck No. 4938, a nodding acquaintance at the gym. The letter had been scribbled with a quill and Duck No. 4938 explained that she was currently behind bars at Critters Incarcerated. According to her letter, she was blameless of the charges levelled against her, while remaining tight-billed about her true intentions.
I was puzzled until next day the story became public knowledge. This had prompted her lawyer Henny McCluck to state that her client Duck No. 4938 was nowhere near The Duck Pond on the afternoon in question.
Apprehended with a plastic bag of crumbs under her wing, proceedings are currently underway to determine if Duck No. 4938 gobbled all the dry bread crusts before other ducks had a chance to exit the water. The Duck Pond is a popular picnic spot, a prominent sign warns Do Not Feed The Birds, and investigators are urging the child who dropped the bread crusts to come forward.
“My client pleads not guilty and hopes for early release,” said McCluck. She added that the Duckolympic champion held the coveted title of Paddling Fury and should be respected for her sporting prowess. I realised that this would not help her cause. In a photograph released today, Duck No. 4938 appeared rather haunted, her feathers askew. Lawyer McCluck can be seen loitering in the background.
Meanwhile, the letter I received from Duck No. 4938 hinted that she believes lawyer McCluck is pecking through what little grain savings she has left and asks for my support. I decided against sending a 2kg bag of cracked corn to the address she nominated and considered the letter to be some sort of scam.
The arrest had caused a flurry in the catering industry and representatives were standing in readiness to take stomach content samples.
By now social media tweets were going viral, ruffling large flocks of the feathered fraternity with #stuffedduck #duckdiving and #whatsitallaboutduckie. Television news coverage focused on the issue of slim pickings for underprivileged water birds. Dramatic press headlines read “Feathered Fraudster” and “Dead in the Water” with an inflammatory byline from an angry drake.
“She snatched it right out from under my webbed feet!”
A shiver ran up my spine. The drake has engaged the services of Paulo Dingo, known in legal circles as ‘Hungry’.
Undisclosed sources close to The Duck Pond were striving to gain access to security camera videos which could prove Duck No. 4938 was not in the vicinity of the water’s edge at the time of the incident.
“Video footage won’t prove a thing,” said ‘Hungry’ Dingo in his scathing report on the inadequacy of the wildlife penal system. “Judge Cassowary wouldn’t know one duck from another,” he howled.
My after-lunch doze was unsettled by thoughts that blackmail and swamp weed may be at the root of the allegations. At the very least Duck No. 4938 may have been duped and become ensnared in a network of fowl crime. But why come to me? Why doesn’t she tell the truth?
The phone rang and I discovered that local Constable Steve Brolga was conducting enquiries. He said he would be undertaking a nest-to-nest search and interviewing anyone who may have seen or heard Duck No. 4938 acting suspiciously in the surrounding area.
“Keep your ears tuned for me, Bertha,” he said.
My ears twitched and I pondered the fact that Duck No. 4938 may have a secret hiding place. Unexpectedly I had the answer. A clutch of ducklings, safely hidden from the likes of ‘Hungry’ Dingo.
A guilty verdict would certainly hinder her parental responsibilities. She had to plan, she needed someone on the outside, someone who lived nearby and could go to the address in the letter. Someone she could trust to protect her family.
I confided my swirling thoughts to young Joey.
“I guess I can help,” I mused, “What’s 2kg of cracked corn anyway?”
He was dubious and thought it may have been a trap. “Or we might be followed.”
But the more we talked, the more I thought about food relief. “Maybe we could scrounge some stale bread rolls from the back of the supermarket?”
This proved to be a difficult task and I scrambled over enough plastic bags and wasted food to last me a lifetime. A couple of crows helped by flicking slices of bread out of a half-opened skip but maintained their image by cawing loudly every time one hit me on the head. Joey laughed until a mouldy slice hit him.
Next day I alerted Constable Brolga and planned to meet him at the location specified by Duck No. 4938. Joey and I set off mid-morning and arrived earlier than intended. I stopped at a rusty wire gate to confirm the address.
“This is it.” The only noise was the rustling of eucalyptus leaves.
Before I could stop him, Joey bounced out with the bulky package and pushed through the gate.
“Let’s blow this case wide open!”
I sighed and shoved the letter back in my pouch.
We hopped up a set of shallow steps to the wooden door of an old shed. Heat radiated from the corrugated iron cladding and we strained to hear any sound of ducklings from within. Flies buzzed around us, the smell was overpowering and Joey wrinkled his nose. I knocked forcefully, rattling the door.
There was scuffling and very slowly and carefully the door slid open. Suddenly we were engulfed in a tide of fluffy yellow pinfeathers and eagerly quacking bills. Joey moved forward as bright little eyes scanned our food parcel.
He held up his paw. “Who wants to be first in line?”
I felt comfortable with our decision. Whatever truths the trial may reveal, the innocent must not suffer.
Thoughts Become Words 