Then he turned away and made his way up the small tunnel out of the lair. Ed turned his body around to see the brush departing out into the black dense night. A moment of fearful panic swept up from the depths from his stomach into his mouth as he clambered after him out of the small opening in the ground and into the evening.
“Sam, Sam,” he yelped forlornly as he surfaced into the sinister night. Sadly, he had disappeared along the path, through the bushes and down towards the busy road. Beside him, the cardboard box from the previous night lay discarded. He knew he would never see Sam again. His body felt weak with misery as he turned around and headed back down the hole, slightly nauseous. The next day it was his turn and that if it went wrong, he would be stuck as a tortoise for the rest of his life.
The lair felt so empty without Sam. He gazed over to the empty spot where he’d been laying, a makeshift bed of twigs and leaves. He scrambled upon it, the scent of the fox still strong in the air, clumps of brown and white fur caught on the various bits of branch, the pate pot and Mars bar wrapper lying just to the left. It was a miserable and lonely moment, characterised by a strange absence and a horrible emptiness. He settled down and tried to sleep, fearful of the next day.
Chapter 5
Home county rapids
The morning was bleak as Ed surfaced from the lair, having consumed the remainder of the lettuce. Ironically it was the first day without a searing sun and sadly, he wouldn’t benefit from the respite. His stomach still ached with misery and sadness at the loss of Sam and he began to wonder if a life as a reptile without self-awareness would be such a bad thing after all. He manoeuvred himself down along the path towards the water’s edge, the same way Sam had gone the night before. He passed by the disturbed section of bushes that Sam had cut through towards the road. He stood motionless for a few seconds staring, oblivious to the fact that the badger was back, sniffing his rear end.
He carried on down towards the water, passing columns of marching ants going about their daily chores. Now they seemed to have bits of cardboard box to keep them busy. The badger came alongside and walked him towards his departure point as if it knew what was about to happen.
“Well, mate, maybe you had the same choice as me and opted out. Can it be that bad? You look happy enough, easily pleased as long as there’s an arse to sniff. Well, regardless of all that, I don’t want to be a shelled reptile, crawling around like a punctured football with chubby legs, eating flowers and doing Interflora poos. No, matey, I’m at least going to give this a shot at least once. Maybe I’ll come back as a well cared-for poodle or a fearsome lion. Here I go.”
After a quick slurp from the fresh water, Ed manoeuvred himself backwards into the stream, pushing with his fat legs against the shore to project himself away and into the powerful current. The badger looked on bemused, sniffing at his head before he started to drift out into the current like a wooden raft.
“I really honestly don’t want to drown. It sounds like a hideous idea, but what choice do I have? This’ll surely be the best and quickest way. Tortoises are certainly not renowned for their prowess in water sports.”
At this point, Ed drifted into the main current and was whisked away like a white water raft, spinning round and round as he started to ride the cascades of water. Alas, none seeped into his shell and he floated perfectly. He was certain that tortoises sank. Why didn’t he sink? Was he a new breed of buoyant tortoises, maybe related to a turtle?
He got faster and faster and remembered that Sam had told him to try and turn upside down. He squirmed with his body, trying to throw his weight to destabilise himself. All attempts were unsuccessful until suddenly there was a loud ‘thwacking’ sound and everything stopped dead in its tracks. The sound of the water was deafening as it rushed over his shell, hitting him full in the face and lifting him upwards, the white spray creating beautiful patterns of water in the air.
Then another loud noise, a slight movement and then he came to a sudden stop. The hydraulic and all-powerful gushing torrents battered him from every angle, around him, over him, under him, and across him. He had been turned around by the water flow and now faced landwards, caught on a fallen branch of a dead tree. Squirming nervously, he tried to swing his legs and manoeuvre himself free to continue in the stream. Alas it was fruitless. It was going to be a lot harder than he first assumed. He knew if he got stuck for the day, then that would be that. He would be condemned to live out his days as a reptile.
After what seemed like an age of struggling, he heard voices in the distance. They sounded mumbled, but became clearer as they got closer.