Born And Blue

Rosamunda is no expert at drawing. But who can't draw flowers?

Gaius watches as she scratches away with the hard Derwent pencil.

She draws the orchid, then she labels the parts.

Dorsal sepal, lateral petal, dorsal lobe, pseudoeye, basal field, speculum, brach, anther, stigma, column, lip, ovary.......

No, no, says Gaius, THAT is the gynostemium. But otherwise, I couldn't do better myself.

If I had a blue, says Rosamunda, I could colour it delicately.....

Don't you have one? says Gaius.

Not in my tin, says Rosamunda.

You have a TIN? says Gaius.

Of graphites, says Rosamunda. But there are other ways to effect natural colours. Wait till morning.

Gaius is pleased with his protegée. How far she has come.

When I get home, says Gaius, I shall be planning my next expedition. I wonder if you.....?

Where are you thinking of going? asks Rosamunda.

She won't go just anywhere.

Just a quick trip back to Tasmania, says Gaius. Now that it's spring.

How lovely, says Rosamunda. Will it just be the two of us?

I hardly think that would be proper, says Gaius. I shall try to make contact with Arthur.

Okay, says Rosamunda. That's cool.

Terence lies awake in the darkness.

What a nightmarish thing.

Rosamunda has pencils, but no blue ones. She has promised to make blue in the morning, by natural means. People make colours with powders. They make powders by scraping. He is the only one of the party who is pale blue. He rues the day he was born of the father, and the other day, the day he turned blue.

Baby Pierre stirs in his sleep beside him.

He is dreaming a dream of bad rubbles. The bad rubbles are calling: what happened what happened? so young.......somebody should have gone with her......we need to find closure ....

Baby Pierre mutters:  Closure, closure.

Terence moves closer.

There is little comfort in this.