The Downside Of Compassion

They spend the night sleeping in comfort, in Scottsdale.

All but one of them.

Captain Louttit has been overlooked in Schopenhauer's bicycle basket. The bicycle of course is outside.

It's four degrees Celsius in Scottsdale, on average in July, overnight, according to Willyweather.

Captain Louttit is abandoned. No one has come out to get him.

The salt water in the plastic lined pale blue cloche hat is close to freezing, without actually freezing.

And Captain Louttit is not grateful for that.

He attempts to climb out of the basket. He can't do it.

His body is closing down. His mind wanders. He dreams a cold watery dream.

He is riding beside Ageless, on the cold ocean floor, watched by fang tooth fish, vampire squid and sea urchins........

.......

Next morning, bright and early, they check out of the small B and B, and pick up their bicycles.

Wurrrrrhuurrrr.....!

What's that noise? cries Unni. Oh no! It's Captain Louttit! We left him outside!

Wurrrrrhuurrrr! says Captain Louttit.

He's caught a chill, says Schopenhauer. I know that breathing.

He needs to warm up, says Unni, lifting Captain Louttit out of the splintery water.

Ughhh! Chkkk! says Capttain Louttit. I need a stiff shot of brandy.

What a lovely idea. Arthur heads off to the bottle shop.

We can't wait about, says Gaius. Are you all right to travel?

Of course he is, says de Freycinet. He's a sailor.

Arthur returns with a bottle of brandy.

How much? asks Schopenhauer, taking out his wallet.

Arthur can't remember. Schopenhauer gives him a fifty.

Captain Louttit has a swig. He feels better already.

I'm alright to travel, says Captain Louttit. But I've still got the shivers. I need to warm up.

His eye falls on the Platonic Ideal.

The Platonic Ideal, on which he dreamed he was riding with Ageless on the floor of the ocean.....watched by fang fish and urchins and squid.

The perfect time for my lesson! says Captain Louttit.

Tch! says Gaius. You'll hold us all up.

No, I won't, says Captain Louttit. Last night I dreamed up a certain degree of efficiency.

He clambers onto the Platonic Ideal, without the advantage of strappings.

He stretches his legs to the pedals, grabs the handlbars. Crick crack! He starts pedaling down the road out of Scottsdale.

Brilliant, says Schopenhauer. There goes my bicycle.

.......

They are soon in Launceston, at the bus station, buying tickets for the Hobart Express which will take them to Devonport in time to catch the night ferry.

Schopenhauer is in a bad mood. He has been dinkied from Scottsdale, by Gaius. His trousers are ruined. His bicycle smells faintly of lobster.

And now he must pay for the tickets.