Wasps Whirr What?

Meanwhile on the earlier train, Terence is still sitting next to the man.

Arthur has not yet returned.

Want me to go and find him? asks Prong.

Okay, says Terence. Tell him I'm sitting next to a man.

The same man he sat next to, says the man. He should remember where I am.

Okay, says Prong. 

She flies up from Terence's shoulder and switches to drone mode.

Buzz-buzz.

Drones don't usually buzz, says the man.

What do they do? asks Terence.

They whirr, says the man.

Were what? asks Terence.

Whirr like a swarm of wasps, says the man.

That's wasp drones, says Terence. She's a parrot drone.

Makes sense, says the man. You wouldn't send wasp drones on a rescue mission.

No I wouldn't, says Terence. They might sting it.

It? says the man.

You know what, says Terence.

No I don't, says the man. 

Have a guess, says Terence.

An injured parrot, says the man.

He has been imagining that Terence and Arthur and the drone parrot might be going to rescue an injured parrot.

Now Terence imagines it too.

Yikes! If it was an injured parrot, and Prong turned up, the Virgin might want to keep Prong as a replacement. 

Not correct, says Terence. It's nothing like a parrot.

There's a clue says the man. 

That's not a clue, says Terence.

A general sort of clue, says the man. So it isn't a bird.

Correct, says Terence. It isn't.

But the man is getting warmer. 

Terence hopes Arthur comes back soon.

Instead it is Prong who comes back.

Buzz-buzz, says Prong. Arthur's in the bar carriage.

Is he getting me something? asks Terence.

It didn't look like it, says Prong. 

Go back and tell him to hurry up, says Terence. Before this man guesses who we're going to rescue.

Why is he guessing? asks Prong.

It's just a game, says Terence, but he's getting warmer.

Play something different, says Prong.

Okay, says Terence. You go and get Arthur. And try to sound more like a wasp.

Don't they buzz?  asks Prong.

No, they whirr, says the man.

Were what? wonders Prong.

Ignoring The Hole

 Sweezus and Sartre return to their seats on the train.

The Imposter? says Sartre.

Okay, says Sweezus. I shouldn't have said it.

On the contrary, says Sartre. It's a very good title. I may use it.

But it's kind of ambiguous, says Sweezus.

All the better says Sartre. Who is the imposter? You, me or the bear?

You can't mention the bear, says Sweezus. 

I know that, says Sartre. And I didn't. It was you.

Those two won't remember, says Sweezus. Or they'll think it's a code name.

Let us hope so, says Sartre. 

He picks up his ipad and starts typing:

Something happened in the bar carriage. My companion nearly gave the game away. A couple approached us, recognised us and asked for a link to my blog. They too did not like the title, Existence precedes Essence. My companion suggested I should call it The Imposter. At first I thought he was referring to me. But he was referring to the one we are going to Barcelona to rescue. Now there are two strangers who  know the nature of the Imposter, but not the location. 

He is proud of this entry. He will show it to Sweezus.

He nudges Sweezus.

Shit! says Sweezus. I blasted a hole in the back wall.

Your goats will escape, says Sartre. Was it my fault?

You nudged me, says Sweezus. What do you think so far? Ignoring the hole.

Sartre looks at the Minecraft goat pen. It looks boxy.

It looks boxy, says Sartre. But apart from the hole it seems functional.

I'm making a grass patch in the centre, says Sweezus, and a composting area.

Fancy, says Sartre. Would you like to see my next entry?

Yeah okay, says Sweezus. 

He reads what Sartre has written.

That's good, says Sweezus. You used my title. And ramped up the mystery.

Without mentioning the bear, says Sartre.

And the two strangers'll know who they are, says Sweezus. And they'll tell their friends, and you'll get heaps more readers.

I must tell Simone, says Sartre. 

Trains Have Ears

Sartre and Sweezus are still in the bar carriage, drinking beer.

Which may be unwise.

Trains have ears.

Or so Sartre is telling Sweezus.

I know, says Sweezus. but it's not like we're talking about the rescue.

Or who we're to rescue, says Sartre.

Or what with, says Sweezus.

Ears prick up.

Not the train's ears, but the ears of a couple nearby.

They have watched the Tour de France on tv and recognised Sweezus.

Excusez-moi, says the man. 

No worries, says Sweezus. 

Aren't you the captain of Team Condor? asks the man.

Yeah, says Sweezus. How did you know?

We saw you on the tv, says the man. 

And you too, says the woman, looking directly at Sartre.

I was not in it, says Sartre.

Yes you were, says the woman. In Team Philosophe.

That was not me, says Sartre.

Pardon, says the woman. You look like one of those guys.

Which one? asks Sartre.

If it wasn't you, it doesn't matter, says the woman.

I was in Team Existentialiste years ago, says Sartre. Perhaps you know me from then?

Team Existentialiste? says the man. Are you.... Jean Paul Sartre?

I am, says Sartre. 

Do you still ride a bike? asks the woman.

Rarely, says Sartre. But I'm taking a bike to Barcelona.

We both are, says Sweezus. 

To rescue someone? asks the man.

I think it's meant to be a secret, says the woman.

So they were listening!

I shall be blogging it, says Sartre. In fact I've already begun. You can follow me, if you wish to.

Super! says the woman. What's it called?

There'll  be a link in Velosophy, says Sweezus. 

Yes but what's it called? asks the woman.

Existence precedes Essence, says Sartre. 

Maybe you should call it Rescue In Barcelona, suggests the man.

Or The Secret Mission, says the woman.

Or The Imposter, says Sweezus. How about that?

Sartre looks at him, severely.

Not you , says Sweezus. The bear.

The man and woman look at one another.

Quoi? Are they planning to rescue a bear?

Busted Eating A Crisp On The Phone

Sweezus and Sartre are in the bar carriage. 

Eating crisps, drinking beer.

Sartre gets a phone call.

Alors? says Sartre.

Have you begun blogging? asks Simone.

Oui, mon amour, answers Sartre.

I don't see it anywhere, says Simone. What's it called?

I'll send you a link, says Sartre.

He fumbles with his phone.

Is that Simone? asks Sweezus. 

It is, says Sartre. She wants to read what I've written.

Yeah, good plan, says Sweezus. See what she thinks of the title.

She won't like it, says Sartre, but she'll like the first paragraph.

About you paying for the bike spaces, says Sweezus.

Perhaps not that part, says Sartre.

Got it, ma chérie? asks Sartre.

Got it, says Simone. Existence precedes Essence. Are you sure?

Of course I'm sure, says Sartre.

It's your decision, says Simone. But aren't you planning to rescue a bear?

I'm not supposed to mention it yet, says Sartre.

I understand that, mon petit, says Simone. But what has essence got to do with it?

My essence has everything to do with it, says Sartre. The action of rescuing , indeed the series of actions leading up to the rescue, and the rescue itself, constitute what I make of myself.

It's not all about you, says Simone.

I know that, ma chou, says Sartre. Have you read any further? You'll see that I mention the young man who is travelling with me. 

Sweezus, yes, I know, says Simone. But I see you have paid for his bike space.

A courtesy, says Sartre. He is giving me useful advice.

Is he looking over your shoulder? asks Simone. You won't like that.

He has been playing Minecraft, says Sartre. He is making a pen for his goats.

That should keep him occupied, says Simone. What's that sound? Like crunching.

We're in the bar carriage, says Sartre. I am eating a crisp.

Don't eat too many, says Simone. You know how salty they are.

I know, says Sartre. And I do appreciate your opinion.

I know that, my love, says Simone.

The call ends.

What did she think? asks Sweezus.

Many things, says Sartre. 

Like what? asks Sweezus.

She doesn't like the title, she thinks I think everything's all about me. I pointed out that you have equal billing and she pointed out that I'd paid for your bike space.

She's a sharp one, says Sweezus.

She is, says Sartre.

I'll get the next round, says Sweezus. More crisps?

D'accord, says Sartre.

You Become What You Do

The very fast train is now moving fast.

Sartre is still typing.

How's it going? asks Sweezus.

Very well, says Sartre. 

Don't make the posts too long, says Sweezus.

I shall stop when I choose, says Sartre.

Just saying, says Sweezus. Short and simple is best.

I shall stop now, says Sartre. Did you bring any snacks?

No, says Sweezus. Bringing snacks isn't part of my essence.

You WERE reading it! says Sartre. 

Yeah sorry, says Sweezus. I'll play Minecraft or something.

He takes out his own ipad.

You seem to have a wrong idea about essence, says Sartre. It's not about snacks.

There's a bar carriage, says Sweezus. We could head up there.

We should clear this up first, says Sartre.

No need to, says Sweezus. I get it. 

Tell me what you think it is that you get, says Sartre.

Okay, says Sweezus. You reckon you become what you do.

That's succinct, says Sartre.

Maybe I should write one, says Sweezus.

No no, says Sartre. One blog will suffice. And it should be mine.

Sweezus starts playing Minecraft. He conjures up goats.

They leap over towers and crash into bridges. . 

Perhaps he should build something for them.

He remembers Sartre's philosophy. You are what you do.

Does that mean he's a goat guy?

No, that was his version of Sartre's philosophy. 

But he should build them something.

He starts collecting wooden pallets and bricks..

Maybe Sartre is looking over his shoulder.

See, I'm a building type guy.

But when he looks up Sartre is typing again.

Sartre stops. 

Having said he wouldn't continue, he has continued. 

Punctuation, says Sartre.

Minecraft, says Sweezus. Building a pen for my goats.

Do they now have a better understanding of each other's essence?

Bar carriage? suggests Sartre.

Yeah, let's go, says Sweezus.

Existence And Essence

Sweezus and Sartre are at the Gare de Lyon, about to board a fast train to Barcelona.

Sartre has paid for the tickets, including two bike spaces, at ten euros each.

They park the bikes in the bike space, and go to their seats.

Sartre receives a phone call from Simone.

Quoi, ma cherie?

Jean Paul, are you on board already?

Yes I am, waiting to depart.

Look out of the window, mon petit!

He looks out of the window, and sees Simone walking along the platform. 

She spots him.

He gets up and goes to the door.

You have forgotten your ipad, says Simone. How would you have blogged your adventure without it?

Merci bien, cherie, says Sartre, taking the ipad.

Bon voyage, says Simone.

Sartre returns to his seat.

What did she want? asks Sweezus.

It seems I forgot this, says Sartre.

Great! says Sweezus. Good on her for bringing it.

Yes, says Sartre. Shall I commence blogging at once?

Why not? says Sweezus. But don't reveal what we're planning.

I shall keep that a secret, says Sartre. I plan to philosophise mainly.

Yeah, go ahead then, says Sweezus. 

Sartre opens the ipad, and stares at the screen.

He starts typing: Existence precedes Essence.

Is that the title? asks Sweezus.

I hope you're not going to watch over my shoulder, says Sartre.

Shit no, says Sweezus. But I need to post a link to your blog for our readers.

Wait till I've finished, says Sartre. But how do you like the title?

Makes you think, says Sweezus. 

Thank you, says Sartre.

But.... says Sweezus.

But what? asks Sartre.

Remember to mention the bikes, says Sweezus.

We're on a train! says Sartre. 

With our bikes in the bike space, says Sweezus. Our readers need to know that or else they'll turn off.

I see, says Sartre. I shall keep that in mind.

He continues typing.

What do I mean by this title? Let me explain. I am on a fast train to Barcelona. A man, existing, but I could be anyone. The young man beside me for instance. He too exists. And he may have a plan of action which will determine his essence. The same goes for me. But I must not reveal my plan of action. Suffice to say, I have paid ten euros for a bike space. And an additional ten euros for his bike space as well.

Sweezus, unable to help himself, has been reading what Sartre has written.

He's not sure he likes what the financial revelation reveals of his essence.

The Thing Will Be Wanting To Come

 Flyingsmarty catches up with Supermarty.

They are level with the empty seat, where Arthur had been sitting.

That's where Arthur was sitting, says Prong.

You must be Terence, says the man who was sitting next to Arthur before Arthur moved on.

Must I? says Terence.

I assume so, says the man. You're with this drone parrot, and you're too young for a phone.

I'm not too young, says Terence. But where's Arthur?

Moved on, says the man. But you can sit here if you like.

Don't do it! warns Prong.

He might come looking for you, says the man, and this is the first place he'll look.

No it isn't, says Prong. It's the second place.

What's the first place? asks Terence.

Where you were when he left you, says Prong. Next to the kid.

Back that way, says the man, indicating the direction that Terence has come from.

Yes, says Terence.

Then he'll pass by here first, says the man. And you can attract his attention.

This sounds like a good plan to Terence.

He already knows how he'll attract Arthur's attention.

By pinching his leg. It will be funny.

He sits down next to the man.

I hear you're going to Barcelona? says the man.

Yes, says Terence. On a mission.

Secret mission, says Prong.

Yes, a secret mission, says Terence. 

I know something about it, says the man. 

Like what? asks Terence. 

You're taking a rope and a net, says the man.

But what for? asks Terence.

So your drone parrot can fly up and steal something from the Virgin on the Sagrada Familia, says the man.

What something? asks Terence. 

That I don't know, says the man.

I'm not going to steal anything, says Prong.

No she isn't, says Terence. The thing will be wanting to come.

Yes, wanting to come, says Prong. The rope and the net are just for its safety.

I see, says the man. So it's a sentient being.

What does that mean? asks Terence.

Alive, says the man. I guess it won't be a crime.

Unless I break something, says Prong.

Like a sticking out thing, says Terence. There used to be lots of those.

I'm sure you'll be careful, says the man.

Prong's always careful, says Terence.

Flyingsmarty is always careful, says Prong.

Is Flyingsmarty your code name? asks the man.

Prong isn't sure that she should have revealed it.