The Politics Of Spines

The sea urchin spine has been extracted from Ray's foot with tweezers.

Millicent is about to drop it in the bin.

Before you do that, says Gaius, may I see it?

She thrusts the spine at him. He leans forward to have a look.

She is thinking: Now what? Is he going to want to keep it? How disgusting.

He is thinking: A purple spine. A little sticky. Of no particular interest.

She says: Would you like to keep it?

He says : Yes of course.

He extracts the spine from in between the tweezers, and drops it into Captain Louttit's jug.

Captain Louttit eyes it, floating gently down towards the anxious barnacles.

He is thinking: This is an insult which may later come in handy.

He says, not expecting an answer: Oho. What have we here?

He does not get an answer. Millicent is handing out the scones.

Any jam? asks Schopenhauer.

These are cheese scones, says Millicent.

A non sequitur, surely? says Schopenhauer.

Jam on cheese scones? says Millicent. But, if you'd like some....

Unni comes in from the garden shed where she has been with Arthur.

My old bike's here, says Unni. I'm going to Tasmania.

Ray, says Millicent. This is your fault.

But Ray has fallen into a spineless sleep.

When are we leaving? says Unni. We've already missed the morning ferry. What about tonight? Have you guys got tickets?

Not yet, says Gaius. I wonder what it costs?

Geez! says Unni. You guys are hopeless.

She gets out her phone and taps at it for several seconds.

A hundred and twenty nine dollars one way, for an Ocean Recliner, says Unni. Six dollars extra for a bike. Oh, look! There's half price fares next month.

We can't wait, says Gaius. And it matters little, because we have the money. Arthur has it.

He does, does he? says Unni, looking straight faced at Arthur.

She already knows what he has in his pockets.

His  gold coin, which is unreliable, and fifty dollars, change from fish and chips.