Legacy. Jeff Edwards

all the fault of Toby’s juice,’ said Suzie, giving Mrs Green a cheeky wink.

      ‘Oh, I’m sure the love you two have for one another has a little bit to do with it as well.’

      ‘You could be right,’ conceded Suzie.

      Mrs Green sipped at the tea that Suzie handed to her. ‘What are your plans for the day?’

      ‘I’m taking the logo up to the city for that fund,’ he replied.

      ‘I’m going up with him,’ added Suzie, ‘I want to check these fund people out on their home turf and make sure Toby gets paid the balance he’s owed. We’re also going to buy some clothes for our honeymoon.’

      ‘Knowing you two, I don’t think you’ll need to buy too many clothes, but I like your idea of checking the fund out. Those people are no more ecologists than I am.’

      ‘I would have thought you’d be a very good ecologist, what with your gardening skills and all,’ said Suzie.

      ‘I don’t think gardening makes you an ecologist. No matter what sort of rubbish that pair came out with.’

      Mrs Green moved to the workbench and studied the completed work, running her hands over the outlines of the figures. The grain of the timber and the polish brought them to life.

      ‘This is wonderful. It’s much too good for that pair.’

      ‘They’ll be paying a top price for it,’ commented Toby.

      ‘That’s not the point. I don’t think either one of them is capable of appreciating it. Be careful when you’re up there with them. Keep your eyes open and don’t believe a word that comes out of their mouths.’

      Sam and Bree had been out early. They needed more environmental ‘supplies’ for the shop. ‘Borrowing’ from the major organisations had boosted their supply of pamphlets and posters. They had hung the posters throughout the office and the pamphlets and fridge magnets were spread over the counter.

      They had learnt to keep the door locked for most of the day. It kept people from wandering in and asking silly questions. Simple questions about ecology that neither one of them could answer.

      However, because Toby Brown was expected, and because Brown expected to find a fully operational group of environmentalists, they were forced to open the shop, if only for the morning.

      Finding it open at last, a pair of dowdy, old ladies from the neighbourhood, and a goth with a face drawn in black makeup, to offset her bloodless, white skin, had wandered in. They all looked determined to examine everything the shop had to offer.

      ‘Some people have just too much time on their hands,’ thought Bree as she eyed the goth. Bree had just seen her slip one of their purloined Greenpeace fridge magnets into her bag and wondered what else she was stealing from them.

      At that moment a mud spattered and dented truck pulled up outside. Toby Brown alighted, accompanied by Suzie Ryan. They stood on the footpath and studied the façade. If not for a hastily written sign in the front window, a passerby would have had no idea of the shop’s contents. The Save the Country Fund would certainly have a great deal of trouble attracting donations judging by their current efforts, thought Suzie.

      Bree went to the door and welcomed them. As Sam had never met Suzie, Bree performed the introductions.

      Sam said to Toby: ‘Can I help you to bring it in?’

      ‘No. It’ll be fine. Where do you want me to set it up?’

      Sam looked at Bree, who shrugged.

      ‘Why don’t you put it in the front window, instead of your hand-made original,’ offered Suzie.

      ‘I suppose my work of art does leave a lot to be desired,’ said Sam. ‘Bree is the artistic one. I’m more the practical one.’

      Toby untied the logo from its cushioned resting place on the bed of the truck.

      Lifting the large piece of wood with ease, he carried it into the shop and set it up in the window.

      The logo, with Save the Country Fund etched in large letters beneath, filled the small window space, making it seem larger than it actually was.

      The four of them stood outside the shop and were impressed with the effect.

      ‘It’s stunning,’ enthused Bree. ‘I had no idea it would turn out so well when I saw the original sketch.’

      ‘You’ve really given the fund a focus,’ agreed Sam.

      Several passing pedestrians stopped to look and a young girl in outlandishly coloured clothes, smiled at it, and entered the shop.

      ‘Well you’ve certainly earned your money, Mr Brown,’ said Sam. ‘Come inside and I’ll make you out a cheque for the balance.’

      While Toby was being paid, Suzie made a tour of the shop, studying the posters and picking up a selection of the pamphlets. She noted the lack of anything vaguely resembling office equipment. No computers, no cash registers and just the desks and chairs behind the counter. There was not a pen or paper to be seen on the desks and Suzie wondered how work got done in this strange organisation.

      Suzie also noticed the girl in gothic outfit as she slipped a fridge magnet into her bag and wondered if she should mention it to the would-be ecologists. Bree had also noticed and moved over to whisper to Suzie. ‘I don’t know how much fridge magnets bring on the black market, but that’s the third one she’s stolen so far.’

      ‘Perhaps she’s trying to affect a cure for bloodless skin through magnetism,’ was Suzie’s whispered response, and they both laughed.

      The sound of their laughter caught the girl’s attention. She turned towards the women and realised she was the topic of conversation. Swiftly grabbing another magnet, she ran to the door and made a hurried escape.

      ‘What was that about?’ asked Sam, as the girl rushed by him.

      ‘We’ve been robbed by a serial fridge magnet thief,’ Bree advised him.

      ‘And you didn’t chase her to get them back?’

      ‘You’re kidding. We want the ecological message to get out don’t we? What better way than through the black market in fridge magnets,’ she replied with a cheeky grin.

      They all had a laugh at Bree’s whimsy. All except the brightly coloured girl, who regarded them all with a cold eye.

      The old ladies had left just after the goth, nodding and tut-tutting to each other as though disappointed there were no free trips to save the Brazilian forest on offer from the newest member of the ecological fraternity.

      With his final payment in his pocket, Toby and Suzie said goodbye and made their way back to the truck.

      ‘Let’s get that money straight into the bank and make sure it doesn’t bounce,’ said Suzie.

      ‘There should be a branch around here somewhere. It is a business district, even if it is a bit rundown,’ replied the practical Toby, as he put the truck into gear and pulled away from the kerb.

      They found a branch just around the corner, in the street running parallel to the fund’s shop.

      ‘The bank must be almost directly behind their shop,’ said Toby.

      ‘There’s