If Older Ones Can

Sweezus is still on the phone.

When are you guys coming back? asks Sweezus.

I don't know, says Terence.

Sounds like your job is done, says Sweezus.

No, it isn't, says Terence. 

What else is to do? asks Sweezus.

The poem giving, says Terence. 

Giving? says Sweezus.

Yes, says Terence. First, someone writes the poems on a piece of paper. Then I take them down to the water and float them away.

The Have Died poem or the Haven't Died one? asks Sweezus.

Both, says Terence. Just in case.

Good thinking, says Sweezus. Can the cuttlefish read?

Maybe not, says Terence. They're just babies.

Maybe some older ones can, says Sweezus.

Terence says nothing. He is wondering if older ones can.

I reckon they can, says Sweezus. Well, you'd better get cracking.

Okay, says Terence. Bye. See you.

Yeah, see you, says Sweezus.

Terence gives Gaius the phone.

Are you still there? asks Gaius. 

Yeah, says Sweezus. Hey. You available for the Tour Down Under?

When is it? asks Gaius.

Sixteenth of January, says Sweezus. A month off.

Yes I should be, says Gaius. Not much left for us to do here.

It's good here too, says Sweezus. No toxic froth, no more coughing, 

Excellent, says Gaius. No more dead fish?

Not so you'd notice, says Sweezus. By the way, Terence wants to send his poems out over the water. 

Does he? says Gaius.

Yep. As if cuttlefish can read, says Sweezus.

And as if Terence can write, says Gaius. Or even remember the words of his poems.

Yeah, says Sweezus. Just thought I'd give you a heads up.

Thanks, says Gaius. Roo-kai helped him with the poems. Maybe he'll remember.

Cool, says Sweezus. Okay, see ya.  Bye.

The call ends and Gaius now has two more things to think about. 

Or three. Does he have any suitable paper? 

And four. A waterproof pen.