Modes Of Perception

Gaius and Arthur are by the pool, out the back.

It is dark and the water is still.

I'm not sure how we do this, says Gaius.

Hold one end, drop it in, and swish it, says Arthur. 

Swish it? says Gaius. As in ... how?

If I jump in, says Arthur, it'll be easy.

He takes off his trainers and tee shirt, and jumps in.

From this position it should be easy to swish it.

Gaius holds onto one end of the stained duvet cover.

Arthur swishes.

The pink stain dissipates into the water.

The water which had been a shade of pool-blue, becomes slightly purple.

But at night you can't see it.

.....

In the self-catering area, Sweezus and Kant are sitting at a white kitchen table.

They have eaten half of the chocolates.

And are on their second glass of wine.

Sweezus is recording the interview on his phone.

Time and space are not things in themselves, says Kant.

Well, yeah, says Sweezus. So what are they?. 

They are modes of perception, says Kant.

Heavy, says Sweezus. 

Do you see what I'm getting at? asks Kant.

Yeah, modes of perception, says Sweezus. 

Exactly, says Kant.

He takes a chocolate. It's a peppermint cream.

Sweezus can smell it.

.....

But what of Terence?. 

What of that ghostly hand?

The ghostly hand is part of a ghostly person. An old grey man in formal grey clothes. 

Which boy are you? asks the ghostly old person.

Terence, says Terence.

Are you a new boy? asks the ghostly old person. 

I threw up, says Terence.

Then why aren't you in the infirmary? asks the ghostly old person.

Where is it? asks Terence.

Round the back, says the ghostly old person. I shall take you there.

He grips Terence firmly by the shoulder.

You are a hard boy, says the ghostly old person. 

Because I'm made of cement, says Terence.

The ghostly old person taps Terence's curls with a ghostly old finger.

Cement. Yes. Has he made a foolish mistake?

Will he continue to march the boy round to the infirmary?

Much depends on his decision.

If he does he will see Arthur arise from the pool draped in an off-white duvet cover.

If he doesn't, he won't.

The Ghostly Hand

Curses! says Gaius.

Terence climbs down from the four poster bed.

Sorry, says Terence. I couldn't help it.

It's not your fault, says Kant.

It is to some extent his fault, says Gaius.

The real question is, what do we do about it? asks Kant.

Take the cover off, says Gaius. And soak it. Let's hope the bright pink vomit hasn't seeped through to the duvet.

Wah! says Terence.

Sit quietly on that chair by the window, says Gaius. Until you feel better.

Terence stomps across to the chair.

He looks out of the window. At night the garden looks nice. There's an ornamental pavilion, a path and strings of tree lights.

Sweezus and Arthur are down there looking up at the window.

Sweezus waves at Terence, and makes a sign that means open the window.

But Terence can't open the window.

Arthur throws a rock at the window.

Yikes! says Terence.

What was that? asks Gaius.

Kant goes over, and opens the window.

A second rock sails in through the open window.

And misses his head.

The window is open! shouts Kant. Stop throwing rocks at it.

Merde! says Arthur. 

Can we come up? asks Sweezus.

Of course you can, says Kant. I'll meet you at the front door.

He meets them at the front door, and they enter the suite together.

Nice place! says Sweezus. 

I threw up, says Terence.

Where? asks Sweezus. 

On the pirate ship, says Terence.

We have a problem, says Gaius. 

He indicates the stained cover.

You need to soak that, says Sweezus.

I know, says Gaius. The problem is, where?

There's a pool out the back, says Arthur.

Is there? says Gaius. But we can't really...

Yeah we can, says Sweezus. It'll have a filter. Give it to us, we'll deal with it.

I'll go with Arthur, says Gaius. You're going to interview Kant.

So he is, says Kant. I had almost forgotten. Come, Sweezus. We'll sit in the self catering area.

How come? asks Sweezus.

Wine and chocolates, says Kant. Not to mention a fruit bowl.

So while Arthur and Gaius take the vomit-stained cover to the pool, Sweezus and Kant make a start on the interview, and the chocolates and wine.

Has everyone forgotten about Terence?

Terence slips out of the door and heads for the pavilion.

He stands in the middle, turning round slowly, because the pavilion is round.

What are you doing out here late at night, young fellow? asks a stern voice from the shadows.

Looking, says Terence.

Back to the dormitory at once! says the voice from the shadows.

A ghostly hand grasps Terence by the shoulder.

Some Bright Pink Stuff

When you've finished your dinners, I'll show you the suite, says the manager. 

I think we've all finished, says Gaius.

No desserts? asks the manager. We do a very nice sticky date pudding.

Arthur decides that he wants one. 

So they all have to wait .

Terence has stirred and stirred his ice cream with strawberry topping.

It's now a bright shade of pink.

He picks up the bowl and starts slurping.

Not so fast, says Gaius. It's thicker than you're used to.

Terence stops slurping and coughs.

Arthur's sticky date pudding arrives, topped with butterscotch sauce and ice cream.

Maybe I'll have one after all, says Sweezus.

The manager is hovering.

He's a busy person. He does not have all night.

Kant stands up. 

Perhaps you could show me the room now? says Kant. 

Certainly, Mr Kant, says the manager. Come with me.

I'll come too, says Gaius.

And me, says Terence.

The room only sleeps two, says the manager.

Terence doesn't need to sleep, says Gaius. He simply needs somewhere to be.

Come along then, says the manager.

He casts a backward glance at Sweezus and Arthur.

They look pretty settled.

...

This is the suite, says the manager. How do you like it?

There is an old fashioned four poster bed.

Terence takes a running jump and lands in the middle.

A pirate ship! says Terence.

A bit fancy, says Gaius.

Very comfortable, says Kant. What was the reasonable rate that you mentioned?

Half price, says the manager, if you'll allow me to make a promotional video.

Half of what? asks Kant.

Half of two ninety five, says the manager.

And our two colleagues, who remained in the hotel eating sticky date pudding? asks Kant.

There is another suite, says the manager.

Can't they sleep in this one? asks Kant.

What on? asks the manager.

The couch, says Gaius. And the bean bag.

There isn't a bean bag, says the manager.

They may be planning to sleep in the car, says Gaius.

Young and fit, says the manager. Right, I'll leave you to it. You'll find a complimentary bottle of wine, some chocolates and a fruit bowl in the self-catering area.

Excellent, says Gaius. 

I'll come round in the morning, says the manager. Have a good night.

He goes.

Terence stops bouncing.

Bluuuhhh! 

He vomits up some bright pink stuff.

On the fancy white cover of the old fashioned four poster bed.

Recognitions

The server takes a selfie with Kant.

And also captures three quarters of Sweezus

Arthur is in the background, picking his teeth with a tiny paper umbrella.

Thanks, says the server. Mind if I post this?

Not at all, says Kant.

Enjoy your drinks, says the server.

She goes back to the bar, and shows the barman the selfie.

So who is he? asks the barman.

Kanty-manuel or something, says the server. The other guy reckons he's famous.

The manager comes by to see what they're looking at.

A famous customer, says the barman.

The manager takes a look at the selfie.

Which one's famous?  asks the manager. 

This one, says the server.

Not the other one? says the manager. His face rings a bell.

That's just a guy with bits of oyster stuck in his teeth, says the server.

I meant this one, says the manager, pointing to the three quarters of Sweezus. Isn't he in Team Condor?

No way! says the barman. Yeah he is! The captain!

Ripper! Two famous people, says the server. 

She posts the photo on Insta, and instantly gets several likes.

The manager approaches the famous table.

Everything all right here? asks the manager.

Very nice thank you, says Gaius.

Problem with the pineapple? asks the manager.

Not at all, says Kant. I simply decided to leave it.

First time in Goolwa? asks the manager.

Yes it is, says Kant. And we're planning to sleep on the beach.

Not all of us, says Sweezus.

I wouldn't recommend it, says the manager. We have a lovely place next door, with a vacancy. I could arrange some cheap rates.

Very kind, but.... begins Gaius.

Perhaps we could look at it, says Kant. 

Yeah, good idea, says Sweezus. We could do the interview in comfort.

You're a journalist? asks the manager.

Kind of, says Sweezus. 

And an elite cyclist, says the manager. 

Kind of, says Sweezus again. Actually we all are, except Kant here, and Terence.

Kant, says the manager. Not THE Kant?

THE Kant, says Sweezus.  

I don't claim to be THE Kant, says Kant. 

But the manager is now certain that Kant is THE Kant.

What a coup, should THE Kant spend the night next door in Rose-Eden.

Just Rip Off The Paper

Separate, says Terence.

Not a problem, says the server.

She goes away and comes back with a saucer of pineapple pieces.

That's for him, says Terence.

Are these the same pieces you took away earlier? asks Kant.

Sure are, says the server. See the schnitty crumbs?

I wonder about the bacteria, says Gaius.

Bacteria? says Kant. What bacteria?

Your schnitzel was warm, says Gaius. I'm just saying.

Can I eat my icecream? asks Terence.

Stir it first, says the server.

Are we sharing it? asks Terence.

No, says Kant. In fact, I don't think I'll have anything.

Good decision, says Gaius.

Yeah, says Sweezus. Who's for a beer?

Me! says Terence.

You already had one, says Sweezus. 

He orders four beers.

And a toothpick, says Arthur. I've got oyster bits stuck in my teeth.

Floss is better, says the server. 

Floss then, says Arthur.

We don't give out floss, says the server.

She goes off to the bar, for the beers.

Who ARE those guys? asks the bartender.

Don't know, says the server. But the one on the right wants a toothpick.

I'll find him a toothpick, says the bartender.

He goes to the cocktail drawer and takes out a paper umbrella.

Tell him to use this, says the bartender. And tell him we don't want it back.

The server laughs, and takes four beers and the paper umbrella to the table where Arthur and the others are sitting.

This is for you, compliments of the bartender, says the server.

Free beer, cool, says Sweezus.

No, just the paper umbrella, says the server.

What am I meant to do with a paper umbrella? asks Arthur.

They're made out of toothpicks, says the server. Just rip off the paper.

Ingenious, says Gaius.

This is the sort of thing I expected to find on top of my Hawaiian schnitty, says Kant.

You must have been disappointed, says the server. 

I never allow myself to feel disappointed, says Kant.

He's a philosopher. explains Sweezus.

A famous one? asks the server.

Not so much nowadays, says Kant.

Yeah, he is, says Sweezus. He's Immanuel Kant. Bet you've heard of him.

She hasn't. 

But he's famous, so she asks for a selfie.

Two Curly Ones

It should not be my decision, says Kant.

Obviously, says Gaius. But you must have an opinion.

I do have an opinion, says Kant. 

So do I, says Terence.

And what is your opinion? asks Kant.

She asked me if I wanted ice cream, says Terence. 

For the pineapple, says Sweezus. Which you were minding for him.

I can't eat the pineapple, says Terence. I'm not allowed to.

It is certainly a curly one, says Gaius.

I'm quite prepared to forego the ice cream, says Kant.

We could share it, says Terence.

Well said, Terence, says Gaius.

Indeed, says Kant. A good example of the use of the categorical imperative.

Is that one of your inventions? asks Sweezus.

It is, says Kant. One should act in a manner that one would want everyone else to act in, in similar circumstances, regardless of the outcome.

I guess that's what Terence did, says Sweezus. 

What did I do? asks Terence.

You said you'd share it, says Sweezus. Which is what everyone else at this table would have suggested.

What? says Terence.

It means you did the right thing, says Sweezus.

The server comes back with a dish of vanilla icecream drizzled with strawberry topping, and a spoon.

She places it on the table, in front of Terence.

I didn't know if you wanted the pineapple separate, says the server.

Terence doesn't want to ruin his current excellent reputation.

What would everyone else at the table suggest?

Pineapple mixed in? Pineapple separate?

Sweezus looks preoccupied. He's trying to get his head round the categorical imperative. No help there. 

Arthur is picking his teeth, between two of which is lodged a stringy fragment of oyster.

Gaius is looking encouraging. But what does that mean?

Kant seems to be waiting for Terence to give an answer.

Which is not really fair.

Seeing the pineapple was his in the first place.

Categorical Imperative

Top schnitty, says Sweezus.

Mine too, says Gaius. Oysters go well with crumbed beef. Don't you agree Arthur?

But Arthur hasn't started his schnitty. 

He is watching Kant pick the pineapple chunks off his Hawaiian.

And laying them out on the rim of his plate.

Don't you like the pineapple? asks Arthur.

I might eat it later, says Kant. If I order ice cream.

Good thinking, says Arthur. And if you don't, you can still eat the pineapple.

Yeah, says Sweezus. But don't leave it there on the plate. They might take it away.

What's this? asks Gaius.

He wants to eat the pineapple later, says Sweezus. I was just saying, don't leave it there on the plate.

Where else can I leave it? asks Kant.

Give it to me, says Terence. 

What will you do with it? asks Gaius.

Have it on my plate, says Terence. 

That is a  good idea, says Kant. 

He scrapes the pineapple chunks onto Terence's plate.

And starts eating his pineapple-free schnitty.

Arthur starts his Kilpatrick.

Everything all right? asks a passing server.

Awesome, says Sweezus. 

The server looks at Terence's plate.

Don't you like your pineapple? asks the server.

I'm watching it, says Terence. Don't take it away.

Would you like some ice cream with it? asks the server.

Yes! says Terence. Can it be red?

No, we don't do red ice cream, says the server, but we do have strawberry topping. And if you stir it for long enough, what do you think will happen?

It'll melt, says Terence.

And turn red, says the server. 

More like pink, says Gaius.

Okay more like pink, says the server. Well, what do you say?

Yes please, says Terence.

The server picks up Terence's plate and takes it away.

That wasn't meant to happen, says Terence.

She'll bring it back, says Sweezus. With ice cream and strawberry topping.

I hope you like strawberry topping, says Gaius, to Kant.

Hey! says Terence. That strawberry topping should be mine.

It will be difficult to separate from the ice cream, says Gaius.

I can eat both, says Terence. 

But Kant wanted the ice cream for his pineapple, says Gaius. Let's see what he thinks about this.

About what? asks Kant, swallowing the last tasty morsel of his schnitty, and wiping his mouth.

An ethical judgement, says Gaius. Whose ice cream will it be?

Kant considers. 

Should he bring up the idea of the categorical imperative?