The bicycle recedes in the distance, towards the Grand Randonnée.
Should we have let them go with Jeanne Jugan? asks Maclou. We were in charge for the day.
We're all saints together, says Méen.
She appears to have hung up her halo, says Maclou.
Women do that, says Méen. It doesn't mean anything.
So much for responsible child care.
....
The bicycle rattles even more than it used to.
Jeanne pedals on, black tee shirt and pedal pushers flapping.
Are you a witch? asks Baldy from the basket.
What gave you that idea? asks Jeanne Jugan.
Terence, says Baldy.
What gave him that idea? asks Jeanne Jugan.
You SAID IT, says Terence.
I would never have said it, says Jeanne.
A shepherdess, a kitchen maid and after, a witch, says Terence.
Jeanne thinks back to the café, and her recollections, which were interrupted when Terence spilt the sugar.
AFTER WHICH! says Jeanne Jugan.
YES! says Terence. And you wear black clothes.
I hadn't finished, says Jeanne Jugan. I was going to say, that I had been a kitchen maid, AFTER WHICH I did something different.
Cast spells, says Baldy.
I worked for the Viscountesse de la Cloue, says Jeanne Jugan. We visited the poor. I was called by god to a work not yet founded.
Baldy looks at Terence. 'Not yet founded'. That's a good one.
Perhaps they could make it a game.
......
Gaius, Belle and Saint Roley are well ahead of Jeanne Jugan, on the way to Pointe du Grouin.
They have stopped for a break.
What a magnificent region, says Gaius, chewing on a salted caramel.
You can see why they call it the Emerald Coast, says Belle. The sea is so clear and sparkling, and kind of... stripy.
Stripy, says Gaius. You are right. Azure, wine dark and emerald, with foaming white horses.
What do you think, Saint Roley? says Belle.
I have been thinking deeply, says Saint Roley. The bird sanctuary is on an island.
It is, says Gaius. Oh, I see. How shall you get there?
How shall I get there? asks Saint Roley. I am reluctant to trust my life to a vessel.
Understandable, says Gaius. The cardboard potato box was most unreliable, but you being in it was an accident.
Saint Roley sniffs, remembering his brother, Saint Malo, who is still out there somewhere, on an even less reliable section of cardboard (as the best case scenario).
Accident it may have been, says Belle, but we don't have a vessel. Perhaps you could learn how to fly.
That's what I have been considering, says Saint Roley. All I need is someone to teach me.
Arthur, says Gaius. He taught a bird to fly once. I recall it distinctly.
Why yes ! So do I, exclaims Belle. It was that little baby bristlebird!
How did he do it? asks Saint Roley.
Saint Roley feels suddenly nervous, because it was Arthur.
Saturday, October 7, 2017
Friday, October 6, 2017
Coherent, Until The Cheese
Let's sit in the sunshine, says Jeanne Jugan. The café Casse-Croute Compagnie is nearby.
Good idea, says Maclou. I could do with a coffee, if you're paying.
I'll fix it, says Jeanne Jugan. Come. We should leave, before the children's misdemeanour is spotted.
Indeed, says Méen. Come, Terence and Baldy. Put the visitor's book and pen back on the table.
I'll do it, says Jeanne.
They leave the Musée de Cancale, and head over to the café Casse-Croute Compagnie. They sit outside, on orange folding chairs beside a square table.
Jeanne orders three coffees.
What about us? asks Terence.
Too young, says Jeanne. Now tell me of our mission.
Saint Roley is doing it, says Terence.
There is no such saint, says Jeanne.
He's a young oystercatcher, says Méen.
Gatherer, I suppose you mean, says Jeanne Jugan.
No, says Maclou. Bird.
A remarkable one, says Méen. He speaks fluently. He composes poetry. And is extremely devoted to the elderly.
What's the elderly? asks Terence.
You know, says Baldy. Oyster granny.
I too have been devoted to the elderly, says Jeanne Jugan. My whole life, if you don't count the early days, when I was shepherdess.
A shepherdess, Jeanne! says Maclou.
Oh yes, says Jeanne. I learned to knit and spin wool. Then I worked as a kitchen maid, after which....
The coffee arrives.
Forgive an old woman, says Jeanne. Continue, Terence.
Terence has been opening a paper sachet of sugar. He continues.
He rips off the top and spills sugar all over the table.
Baldy nudges Terence.
What? asks Terence.
The MISSION, says Baldy.
You tell it, says Terence. I have to pick up the sugar.
Baldy takes up the story.
Saint Roley has to teach the other oystercatchers not to be stupid, says Baldy. Because they are stupid.
Why? asks Jeanne Jugan.
It is clear she knows nothing of birds.
They build their scrapes in low places, says Baldy. Then the sea washes their eggs away. Then they build more nests in the same places. We used some red cheeses.
It was a coherent story, up to the red cheeses.
Hum, says Jeanne Jugan. And where is Saint Roley right now?
At Pointe du Grouin with Gaius, a natural historian, and Belle, his team leader, says Méen.
She's not the team leader, says Terence.
She is now, says Baldy. We should have gone with them. Instead of going to the Musements.
Where you met me, says Jeanne Jugan. Everything happens for a reason. I shall go home and get my bicycle. Wait here. I'll be back shortly.
Shortly.
Jeanne Jugan comes back with a rattly old bicycle, covered in webs. She is wearing long black loose pedal pushers, and a loose black tee shirt.
Get in my basket, children, says Jeanne. We are going to Pointe du Grouin, on a mission. What happened to my coffee?
You drank it, says Méen.
Maclou stifles a grin. They both know who drank it.
Good idea, says Maclou. I could do with a coffee, if you're paying.
I'll fix it, says Jeanne Jugan. Come. We should leave, before the children's misdemeanour is spotted.
Indeed, says Méen. Come, Terence and Baldy. Put the visitor's book and pen back on the table.
I'll do it, says Jeanne.
They leave the Musée de Cancale, and head over to the café Casse-Croute Compagnie. They sit outside, on orange folding chairs beside a square table.
Jeanne orders three coffees.
What about us? asks Terence.
Too young, says Jeanne. Now tell me of our mission.
Saint Roley is doing it, says Terence.
There is no such saint, says Jeanne.
He's a young oystercatcher, says Méen.
Gatherer, I suppose you mean, says Jeanne Jugan.
No, says Maclou. Bird.
A remarkable one, says Méen. He speaks fluently. He composes poetry. And is extremely devoted to the elderly.
What's the elderly? asks Terence.
You know, says Baldy. Oyster granny.
I too have been devoted to the elderly, says Jeanne Jugan. My whole life, if you don't count the early days, when I was shepherdess.
A shepherdess, Jeanne! says Maclou.
Oh yes, says Jeanne. I learned to knit and spin wool. Then I worked as a kitchen maid, after which....
The coffee arrives.
Forgive an old woman, says Jeanne. Continue, Terence.
Terence has been opening a paper sachet of sugar. He continues.
He rips off the top and spills sugar all over the table.
Baldy nudges Terence.
What? asks Terence.
The MISSION, says Baldy.
You tell it, says Terence. I have to pick up the sugar.
Baldy takes up the story.
Saint Roley has to teach the other oystercatchers not to be stupid, says Baldy. Because they are stupid.
Why? asks Jeanne Jugan.
It is clear she knows nothing of birds.
They build their scrapes in low places, says Baldy. Then the sea washes their eggs away. Then they build more nests in the same places. We used some red cheeses.
It was a coherent story, up to the red cheeses.
Hum, says Jeanne Jugan. And where is Saint Roley right now?
At Pointe du Grouin with Gaius, a natural historian, and Belle, his team leader, says Méen.
She's not the team leader, says Terence.
She is now, says Baldy. We should have gone with them. Instead of going to the Musements.
Where you met me, says Jeanne Jugan. Everything happens for a reason. I shall go home and get my bicycle. Wait here. I'll be back shortly.
Shortly.
Jeanne Jugan comes back with a rattly old bicycle, covered in webs. She is wearing long black loose pedal pushers, and a loose black tee shirt.
Get in my basket, children, says Jeanne. We are going to Pointe du Grouin, on a mission. What happened to my coffee?
You drank it, says Méen.
Maclou stifles a grin. They both know who drank it.
Thursday, October 5, 2017
Science Of Feet
There is a visitors' book, with a pen on a string near the doorway.
We could use that, says Terence.
Okay, says Baldy.
Terence picks up the pen. The visitors' book falls to the floor.
Pick it up! says Terence. You carry the book, I'll carry the pen. Let's do some drawing.
Like what? says Baldy.
Like Splosh! says Terence.
Okay, says Baldy. Shall I open the book?
NO! says Terence. It's a MESSAGE! Choose a painting.
Méen and Maclou are nearby, looking at a painting of nineteenth century female oyster gatherers, by Auguste Feyen.
The female oyster gatherers do not wear shoes. They wear dark blouses, long skirts, and aprons. They have long legs. Their feet are red, splay-toed and large.
Wonderful feet, says Méen.
Only natural, I suppose, says Maclou. Tall girls, large feet.
Is there some evolutionary reason? asks Méen.
Balance, says Maclou, who has read something on the subject.
Méen sees no reason to doubt it.
They move on to a painting of the bay of Mont Saint Michel, by the other Feyen brother.
Terence appears with the pen on a string, Baldy holding the visitors' book up behind him.
Terence draws a watery line across the female oyster gatherers' ankles.
That's too low, says Baldy.
Okay. Lift the book higher, says Terence.
Baldy drops it.
Arétez! says an angry old woman in black. Who is in charge of these children?
They are, says Terence, pointing to Méen and Maclou.
Jeanne Jugan! cries Méen, who has seen her already.
Méen! says Jeanne Jugan. Look what these infants have done!
I don't see anything, says Méen.
It's here, says Terence. It's a message!
About wet feet, says Baldy. They go rusty.
Yours would, says Terence. Mine wouldn't. And that's not the message.
What is the message? asks Jeanne Jugan.
She is quite prepared to receive a decent message. They are thin on the ground in Cancale.
These infants are part of a team on a mission, says Maclou.
(best if Terence is not left to explain it).
A misson! Jeanne's ears perk up.
Tell me of the mission, says Jeanne. I may join them.
I thought you had enough to do, says Méen.
No no, says Jeanne. Pas du tout. It's a long time since I put my feet up.
We could use that, says Terence.
Okay, says Baldy.
Terence picks up the pen. The visitors' book falls to the floor.
Pick it up! says Terence. You carry the book, I'll carry the pen. Let's do some drawing.
Like what? says Baldy.
Like Splosh! says Terence.
Okay, says Baldy. Shall I open the book?
NO! says Terence. It's a MESSAGE! Choose a painting.
Méen and Maclou are nearby, looking at a painting of nineteenth century female oyster gatherers, by Auguste Feyen.
The female oyster gatherers do not wear shoes. They wear dark blouses, long skirts, and aprons. They have long legs. Their feet are red, splay-toed and large.
Wonderful feet, says Méen.
Only natural, I suppose, says Maclou. Tall girls, large feet.
Is there some evolutionary reason? asks Méen.
Balance, says Maclou, who has read something on the subject.
Méen sees no reason to doubt it.
They move on to a painting of the bay of Mont Saint Michel, by the other Feyen brother.
Terence appears with the pen on a string, Baldy holding the visitors' book up behind him.
Terence draws a watery line across the female oyster gatherers' ankles.
That's too low, says Baldy.
Okay. Lift the book higher, says Terence.
Baldy drops it.
Arétez! says an angry old woman in black. Who is in charge of these children?
They are, says Terence, pointing to Méen and Maclou.
Jeanne Jugan! cries Méen, who has seen her already.
Méen! says Jeanne Jugan. Look what these infants have done!
I don't see anything, says Méen.
It's here, says Terence. It's a message!
About wet feet, says Baldy. They go rusty.
Yours would, says Terence. Mine wouldn't. And that's not the message.
What is the message? asks Jeanne Jugan.
She is quite prepared to receive a decent message. They are thin on the ground in Cancale.
These infants are part of a team on a mission, says Maclou.
(best if Terence is not left to explain it).
A misson! Jeanne's ears perk up.
Tell me of the mission, says Jeanne. I may join them.
I thought you had enough to do, says Méen.
No no, says Jeanne. Pas du tout. It's a long time since I put my feet up.
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
Time On Their Hands And No Pencil
Good. That's done, says Gaius. Now to get on.
What are your plans exactly? asks Maclou.
Locate the bird sanctuary, says Gaius. Recover our bicycles. I assume you still have them.
Yes, says Maclou. They're behind the Eglise de Saint Méen. Will Terence and Baldy go with you?
I suppose so, sighs Gaius. But Saint Roley's the one that we need.
Why don't you leave the infants with us for the day? says Maclou. There's a Museum on the far side of the square. Do they like museums?
Ask them, says Gaius. Terence! Baldy! Stop throwing sand and come here. Do you like Museums?
YES! says Terence.
What are they? asks Baldy.
You know, says Terence. Musements
That's very clever Terence, says Maclou. Did you invent that?
Yes, says Terence. Want me to do it with your name?
Go ahead, says Maclou. But my name is tricky. Try Méen.
Too easy, says Terence. He's mean.
No he isn't, says Baldy. What about my name?
I gave you that name, says Terence. So it doesn't count actually.
I see that, says Maclou. Because he has colourful curls. So, what about this Museum outing?
OKAY! says Terence. Let's go. I'll get Saint Roley.
Saint Roley is paying his last respects to oyster granny.
If I ever go on another sea voyage, says Saint Roley, to the sand covering oyster granny (and her cushion), I shall fear not, although I hope it won't happen.
Come ON! cries Terence. We're going to the musements.
That seems inappropriate, says Saint Roley.
You're not going, says Gaius. You're coming with me.
......
Belle is waiting outside the Eglise de Saint Méen, with both bicycles.
There you are, Gaius, says Belle. I've packed us a picnic.
Very good, says Gaius. Where is Arthur?
He doesn't have a bike, says Belle. He borrowed yours when he had to chase after Maclou when we thought Saint Roley was missing. Remember?
Of course, says Gaius. He will no doubt obtain one. Does he know where we're going?
Do you? asks Belle.
Not exactly, says Gaius. But there's a bird sanctuary in this vicinity. Arthur will have an idea.
He won't, says Belle. But I do. We ride up the coast a few kilometres to Point de Grouin. It's the closest point to Ile des Landes, the island bird sanctuary. It's home to thousands of pairs of gulls. There are large cormorants, crested cormorants, seagulls and oystercatchers...
Bingo! says Gaius.
.....
Terence and Baldy are spending the day with Méen and Maclou, at the Cancale Museum.
They are regretting their decision.
There is an exhibition of paintings by the Feyen brothers, Jacques-Eugène and Auguste, on display at the moment.
And Méen and Maclou, having time on their hands, look closely at every one.
It would be more fun if Terence and Baldy had their Prismalo pencils.
But Belle has them, in her back pack.
What are your plans exactly? asks Maclou.
Locate the bird sanctuary, says Gaius. Recover our bicycles. I assume you still have them.
Yes, says Maclou. They're behind the Eglise de Saint Méen. Will Terence and Baldy go with you?
I suppose so, sighs Gaius. But Saint Roley's the one that we need.
Why don't you leave the infants with us for the day? says Maclou. There's a Museum on the far side of the square. Do they like museums?
Ask them, says Gaius. Terence! Baldy! Stop throwing sand and come here. Do you like Museums?
YES! says Terence.
What are they? asks Baldy.
You know, says Terence. Musements
That's very clever Terence, says Maclou. Did you invent that?
Yes, says Terence. Want me to do it with your name?
Go ahead, says Maclou. But my name is tricky. Try Méen.
Too easy, says Terence. He's mean.
No he isn't, says Baldy. What about my name?
I gave you that name, says Terence. So it doesn't count actually.
I see that, says Maclou. Because he has colourful curls. So, what about this Museum outing?
OKAY! says Terence. Let's go. I'll get Saint Roley.
Saint Roley is paying his last respects to oyster granny.
If I ever go on another sea voyage, says Saint Roley, to the sand covering oyster granny (and her cushion), I shall fear not, although I hope it won't happen.
Come ON! cries Terence. We're going to the musements.
That seems inappropriate, says Saint Roley.
You're not going, says Gaius. You're coming with me.
......
Belle is waiting outside the Eglise de Saint Méen, with both bicycles.
There you are, Gaius, says Belle. I've packed us a picnic.
Very good, says Gaius. Where is Arthur?
He doesn't have a bike, says Belle. He borrowed yours when he had to chase after Maclou when we thought Saint Roley was missing. Remember?
Of course, says Gaius. He will no doubt obtain one. Does he know where we're going?
Do you? asks Belle.
Not exactly, says Gaius. But there's a bird sanctuary in this vicinity. Arthur will have an idea.
He won't, says Belle. But I do. We ride up the coast a few kilometres to Point de Grouin. It's the closest point to Ile des Landes, the island bird sanctuary. It's home to thousands of pairs of gulls. There are large cormorants, crested cormorants, seagulls and oystercatchers...
Bingo! says Gaius.
.....
Terence and Baldy are spending the day with Méen and Maclou, at the Cancale Museum.
They are regretting their decision.
There is an exhibition of paintings by the Feyen brothers, Jacques-Eugène and Auguste, on display at the moment.
And Méen and Maclou, having time on their hands, look closely at every one.
It would be more fun if Terence and Baldy had their Prismalo pencils.
But Belle has them, in her back pack.
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
Oyster Funeral
Butterball is not allowed to come.
Not until he has given the Virgin a full account of the state of the cushions.
We can't wait, says Terence.
See if I care, says Butterball.
Méen has some tidying to do. The life buoy needs rehanging, for instance.
So the funeral entourage consists of Terence and Baldy, Saint Roley, Gaius and Maclou.
It will be sufficient.
They walk down the Rue de la Vallée Porcon, Saint Roley bearing oyster granny, on one of the cushions.
This is quite an occasion, observes Maclou. Saint Roley has written a poem.
Yes, says Gaius. It rhymes, which pleases Terence.
Not you? says Maclou.
Sweet eternal pause, says Gaius. It seems contradictory.
I was quite taken with it, says Maclou. A pause which lasts indefinitely.
Eternally says Gaius. Therefore, strictly speaking, it isn't a pause.
I'm sure it's neither here nor there to oyster granny, says Maclou.
True, says Gaius. As long as Saint Roley is happy.
You have great plans for Saint Roley? says Maclou.
Indeed, says Gaius. It is most advantageous that he has become articulate. He can spread the word amongst his fellow oystercatchers about the effects of rising sea levels.
Assuming they understand what he says, says Maclou. For they are not all so blessed.
But now they have reached the beach at Cancale. The beach is pebbly, with rocks at each end.
Terence and Baldy run onto the sand, to find a good spot to bury oyster granny.
Saint Roley stands still, with the cushion.
Oyster granny does nothing.
She has already begun her sweet eternal pause.
A hole is dug.
Any good? asks Terence.
Deeper, says Baldy. Someone might cut their foot.
It is true. Oyster granny is sharpish.
Saint Roley tiptoes forward, and places the cushion over the hole.
What's this? says Maclou. Are we also burying the cushion?
Yes, says Saint Roley. It won't be sweet otherwise.
Make the hole bigger, says Gaius. But hurry.
Terence and Baldy scrape out a great quantity of sand.
The cushion fits in now. Oyster granny lies in her last resting place, on a cushion.
O Oyster Granny..... begins Saint Roley.
Not until he has given the Virgin a full account of the state of the cushions.
We can't wait, says Terence.
See if I care, says Butterball.
Méen has some tidying to do. The life buoy needs rehanging, for instance.
So the funeral entourage consists of Terence and Baldy, Saint Roley, Gaius and Maclou.
It will be sufficient.
They walk down the Rue de la Vallée Porcon, Saint Roley bearing oyster granny, on one of the cushions.
This is quite an occasion, observes Maclou. Saint Roley has written a poem.
Yes, says Gaius. It rhymes, which pleases Terence.
Not you? says Maclou.
Sweet eternal pause, says Gaius. It seems contradictory.
I was quite taken with it, says Maclou. A pause which lasts indefinitely.
Eternally says Gaius. Therefore, strictly speaking, it isn't a pause.
I'm sure it's neither here nor there to oyster granny, says Maclou.
True, says Gaius. As long as Saint Roley is happy.
You have great plans for Saint Roley? says Maclou.
Indeed, says Gaius. It is most advantageous that he has become articulate. He can spread the word amongst his fellow oystercatchers about the effects of rising sea levels.
Assuming they understand what he says, says Maclou. For they are not all so blessed.
But now they have reached the beach at Cancale. The beach is pebbly, with rocks at each end.
Terence and Baldy run onto the sand, to find a good spot to bury oyster granny.
Saint Roley stands still, with the cushion.
Oyster granny does nothing.
She has already begun her sweet eternal pause.
A hole is dug.
Any good? asks Terence.
Deeper, says Baldy. Someone might cut their foot.
It is true. Oyster granny is sharpish.
Saint Roley tiptoes forward, and places the cushion over the hole.
What's this? says Maclou. Are we also burying the cushion?
Yes, says Saint Roley. It won't be sweet otherwise.
Make the hole bigger, says Gaius. But hurry.
Terence and Baldy scrape out a great quantity of sand.
The cushion fits in now. Oyster granny lies in her last resting place, on a cushion.
O Oyster Granny..... begins Saint Roley.
Monday, October 2, 2017
Sweet Eternal Pause
It's a funeral! says Terence. We're borrowing THIS!
He is lugging a life buoy, which he and Baldy have dislodged from the church wall.
This can go round oyster granny, says Terence. And no on will tread on her.
Saint Roley looks pleased.
He had not thought that someone might tread on oyster granny. But they might. And with the life buoy around her, they can't.
But Gaius is not sure they should be removing the life buoy.
It has been hung on the wall of a church, and has black words written on it.
ACTES DE CONTRITION.
No, says Gaius. Let's keep it simple. We shall carry the two parts of granny down to the shore, before anyone else gets there, and bury her quickly. That is what she would have wished.
He has made up the last bit. He never knew oyster granny. Or what she would have wished.
Fie Fie! breathes oyster granny.
Okay! says Terence. Let's wake everyone up. Baldy, you get Butterfatty.
Wait, says Saint Roley. I'm not ready.
Why not? says Gaius.
I want to compose a few words, says Saint Roley. I need pencil and paper.
Belle has our pencils, says Gaius. And she is asleep in the Hotel Nuit et Jour.
I'll ask Méen, says Saint Roley.
He flutters over to Méen and Maclou, emitting tiny sparks from his feathers.
The sparks drop onto Méen and Maclou and wake them.
Pencils! says Méen.
Paper! says Maclou.
It is wondrous the rapport that saints have with one other.
Saint Roley now has a pencil and paper.
Gaius wishes he found it that easy.
I'll help you, says Terence. Write what I tell you.
No, says Saint Roley. Oyster granny saved my life. You just be quiet.
He writes, slowly, as it is difficult to come up with the proper words for such an occasion:
O Oyster Granny
You were my oars
O oyster granny
My life is now yours
Lie under the sand dear
For a sweet eternal pause.
Sweet eternal pause? says Gaius.
Yay! says Terence. That's the best rhyming ever!
It is indeed, agrees Gaius hastily. Let's be off at once, before the beach becomes crowded
He is lugging a life buoy, which he and Baldy have dislodged from the church wall.
This can go round oyster granny, says Terence. And no on will tread on her.
Saint Roley looks pleased.
He had not thought that someone might tread on oyster granny. But they might. And with the life buoy around her, they can't.
But Gaius is not sure they should be removing the life buoy.
It has been hung on the wall of a church, and has black words written on it.
ACTES DE CONTRITION.
No, says Gaius. Let's keep it simple. We shall carry the two parts of granny down to the shore, before anyone else gets there, and bury her quickly. That is what she would have wished.
He has made up the last bit. He never knew oyster granny. Or what she would have wished.
Fie Fie! breathes oyster granny.
Okay! says Terence. Let's wake everyone up. Baldy, you get Butterfatty.
Wait, says Saint Roley. I'm not ready.
Why not? says Gaius.
I want to compose a few words, says Saint Roley. I need pencil and paper.
Belle has our pencils, says Gaius. And she is asleep in the Hotel Nuit et Jour.
I'll ask Méen, says Saint Roley.
He flutters over to Méen and Maclou, emitting tiny sparks from his feathers.
The sparks drop onto Méen and Maclou and wake them.
Pencils! says Méen.
Paper! says Maclou.
It is wondrous the rapport that saints have with one other.
Saint Roley now has a pencil and paper.
Gaius wishes he found it that easy.
I'll help you, says Terence. Write what I tell you.
No, says Saint Roley. Oyster granny saved my life. You just be quiet.
He writes, slowly, as it is difficult to come up with the proper words for such an occasion:
O Oyster Granny
You were my oars
O oyster granny
My life is now yours
Lie under the sand dear
For a sweet eternal pause.
Sweet eternal pause? says Gaius.
Yay! says Terence. That's the best rhyming ever!
It is indeed, agrees Gaius hastily. Let's be off at once, before the beach becomes crowded
Sunday, October 1, 2017
Knots And Unknots
Gaius has learned much from Francine.
That a mathematical knot differs from a real knot in that the ends are joined together, and that six billion mathematical knots have been identified already.
However, he feels it necessary to yawn politely.
Yes, says Belle, we should call it a night. Where are you guys staying?
Hotel Nuit et Jour, says Francine. Come on, Albert.
Ditto! says Belle. Come on Arthur.
Arthur picks up the butter knife, and is ready to go.
I'll sleep with the monks in the church, says François-René. I didn't catch up properly.
Because of the potatoes, says Belle. And because Arthur ate the rest of the feast.
Arthur doesn't recall it. But he must have done it, if Belle says so.
It's an unknot, he thinks.
It's an unknot, says Arthur, saying it out loud, to see if he gets a reaction.
How so? asks Francine.
I did it because she said I did it, says Arthur.
No similarity, says Francine. Unknots don't join up. I believe you have had too much existential conversation with Albert.
Yes, says Belle. And put down that butter knife.
Arthur puts down the butter knife, and contemplates pocketing alternative cutlery.
A dirty fork. A pizza cutter.
Why not both?
François-René heads off towards the Eglise de Saint Méen.
The place is quiet.
.......
In the morning, Gaius wakes early.
He heads across to the church.
He is keen to see Saint Roley and hear him speak for the first time, not counting Yes and Sasshoo.
The monks are sleeping on the hard floor, as monks do. François-René has joined them, with a cushion.
Terence and Baldy are whispering in a corner.
Butterball has been obliged to go back and stand in the Arctic Circle next to the Virgin, in the next room.
Saint Roley is stirring on his pile of kneeling cushions.
He has slept well.
His opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is oyster granny.
He turns his head, and the second thing he sees is her too.
O glory be to you, Oyster Granny says Saint Roley. Today I shall honour you. You shall be buried in sand, after I say a few words.
Fie fie!
A faint sound, emitted by the two halves of oyster granny.
Gaius looms.
It's me, says Gaius. I heard you. You have become surprisingly articulate, in a very short space of time.
I have, Gaius, says Saint Roley. And it's good to see you this fine morning.
(for the sun is streaming in through the stained glass windows, illuminating the Actes de Contritions).
Shall we get on with this funeral, says Gaius. Then we can get down to business.
But if he thinks he can hurry things up so simply, he has not factored in Terence.
Guess what ! says Terence.
That a mathematical knot differs from a real knot in that the ends are joined together, and that six billion mathematical knots have been identified already.
However, he feels it necessary to yawn politely.
Yes, says Belle, we should call it a night. Where are you guys staying?
Hotel Nuit et Jour, says Francine. Come on, Albert.
Ditto! says Belle. Come on Arthur.
Arthur picks up the butter knife, and is ready to go.
I'll sleep with the monks in the church, says François-René. I didn't catch up properly.
Because of the potatoes, says Belle. And because Arthur ate the rest of the feast.
Arthur doesn't recall it. But he must have done it, if Belle says so.
It's an unknot, he thinks.
It's an unknot, says Arthur, saying it out loud, to see if he gets a reaction.
How so? asks Francine.
I did it because she said I did it, says Arthur.
No similarity, says Francine. Unknots don't join up. I believe you have had too much existential conversation with Albert.
Yes, says Belle. And put down that butter knife.
Arthur puts down the butter knife, and contemplates pocketing alternative cutlery.
A dirty fork. A pizza cutter.
Why not both?
François-René heads off towards the Eglise de Saint Méen.
The place is quiet.
.......
In the morning, Gaius wakes early.
He heads across to the church.
He is keen to see Saint Roley and hear him speak for the first time, not counting Yes and Sasshoo.
The monks are sleeping on the hard floor, as monks do. François-René has joined them, with a cushion.
Terence and Baldy are whispering in a corner.
Butterball has been obliged to go back and stand in the Arctic Circle next to the Virgin, in the next room.
Saint Roley is stirring on his pile of kneeling cushions.
He has slept well.
His opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is oyster granny.
He turns his head, and the second thing he sees is her too.
O glory be to you, Oyster Granny says Saint Roley. Today I shall honour you. You shall be buried in sand, after I say a few words.
Fie fie!
A faint sound, emitted by the two halves of oyster granny.
Gaius looms.
It's me, says Gaius. I heard you. You have become surprisingly articulate, in a very short space of time.
I have, Gaius, says Saint Roley. And it's good to see you this fine morning.
(for the sun is streaming in through the stained glass windows, illuminating the Actes de Contritions).
Shall we get on with this funeral, says Gaius. Then we can get down to business.
But if he thinks he can hurry things up so simply, he has not factored in Terence.
Guess what ! says Terence.
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