She Sucks It From Under

Karl Marx, father of socialism, cycles back to Marrawah with Ying, Cradle Coast campus student.

Well, Ying..... says Marx, in order to open the conversation.

Yes? says Ying.

She grips the handlebars tightly, and presses down hard on the seat.

Nice name, says Marx. What does it mean?

Clever, says Ying. It means clever.

Clever, says Marx. That was optimistic of your parents. Are you clever?

I'm at uni, says Ying. So far I'm going okay. Got a distinction for Regional Science A.

Ah, regional science, says Marx, swerving to avoid a tin can. I'm afraid I can't stomach the country.

But it's so beautiful, says Ying, pointing through the trees to the coastline.

It's the country people, says Marx. They suffer from what I call idiocy.

That's a bit rich, says Ying.

In the classical sense, says Marx quickly. From the Greek 'idiotes', meaning concerned with their private affairs.

What's wrong with that? says Ying, thinking about her own private affairs, and how she never seems to get any closer to Arthur.

Except that she's riding his bicycle.

She looks down at the cross bar.

It is smeared with something like cheese.

Everything, says Marx. What do you think the purpose of life is?

To understand things, says Ying.

(Such as is that really cheese?  And why is Arthur elusive?)

That's where you are wrong, says Marx. The purpose of life is to CHANGE things through the constant revolutionising of production and the disturbance of all social conditions.

That's for old guys like you, says Ying. Good luck with it. Nowadays we're into tourism and making artisan honey and chocolates. And by the way, what does YOUR name mean? And what do you reckon THIS is? This sticky stuff here?

Marx is taken aback at the abruptness of his young comrade.

It looks like blood, says Marx. But it also exhibits the properties of dried up soft cheese. I suggest you scrape some off and lick it. As for my name, Karl simply means man.

Your parents were not optimistic, says Ying, scraping away at the hard stuff.

She sucks a bit out from under her fingernail. It tastes metallic and salty, with hints of crab.

Yuk, says Ying. That was disgusting.

You are courageous, says Marx.

They are now getting on as two equals, which is an improvement.

They arrive in Marrawah fifteen minutes behind Zak's Hilux and the Wicked camper.

They stop at the Marrawah General Store.

It's open, and their famous scallop pies are on the menu again.

And you can buy ice there.

The Power Of Erotic Suggestion

Terence is not allowed to do the alteration.

He walks to the edge of the cliff.

Blowhole! says Terence.

Gaius said everyone has one.

Terence looks out to sea, where Arthur and Sweezus are both riding in on a wave.

He tries to picture their blowholes.

But he isn't sure where they would be.

.......

Sweezus paddles out again.

Arthur follows.

They bob up and down.

Cold salt water drips from their hair down their noses and onto their surfboards.

Drip, drip, drip.

What day is it? asks Sweezus.

Arthur says he doesn't know.

.......

Gaius and Marx are drinking tea out of cracked melamine tea cups.

Just look at Arthur out there, says Gaius.

The energy of youth, says Marx. Sun, sea and exercise. Commendable.

What I mean is, says Gaius, that he has no right to be out there when I need his assistance.

Can I help? says Marx. I'm not young but I do like to keep myself occupied.

I need a fridge, says Gaius.

Oh, says Marx. Isn't there one in the camper?

No, says Gaius. And because there isn't, my specimens are compromised.

May I say something? says Marx. I'm not being critical.

Go ahead, says Gaius.

For a scientist, you are woefully short on equipment, says Marx.

I seldom need it, says Gaius. And when I do, Arthur.....

I should like to see him come up with a fridge, says Marx.

What's this about a fridge? says Rosamunda.

Arthur is to acquire one, says Marx. Out of nowhere.

What nonsense, says Rosamunda. A fridge isn't a knife. Or a pencil. Why don't you just get some ice?

Ice! There's a simple solution.

..........

Sweezus and Arthur leave the water and make their way up to the car park.

You guys look a bit green, says Zak, taking charge of the surfboards.

It only needs someone to tell you you look a bit green.

Brupghh!! says Sweezus, burping up fish paste.

Arthur turns pale as a turnip.

You guys are not riding bicycles, says Rosamunda. Get in the camper. We're going back to Marrawah for ice.

I'll ride Arthur's bike, says Ying, looking up from her work on the SPHINCTER.

And I shall ride with you, on the other one, says Marx. Don't be alarmed! I have no ill intentions.

Ugh. The idea of riding Arthur's bicycle suddenly becomes less erotic.

The Great Anatomical Orifice

At last, Zak, Surfing-With-Whales and Stew come out of the water.

They trek up to the carpark, surfboards dripping.

Who wants a sandwich? says Zak.

Me, I'm starving, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Me too, says Stew.

Zak opens the door of the Hilux, and looks for his sandwiches.

Weird, says Zak. They're not there.

He opens several compartments. No sandwiches.

Sweezus and Arthur come over.

We ate your sandwiches, says Sweezus. Hope you don't mind.

No worries, says Zak. They were pretty old anyway. Are you ...?

Yep, says Surfing-With-Whales. Our mates. Sweezus and Arthur.

Pleased to meet you, says Zak. Wanna borrow a couple of boards? Awesome breaks out there.

Yeah, thanks, says Sweezus. Come on Arthur.

Sweezus and Arthur grab a couple of surfboards and head down the track to the beach.

Zak, Surfing-With-Whales and Stew head across to the camper.

Hey, says Surfing-With-Whales. Nice camper. What's a SPINCER?

It's not meant to say SPINCER, says Terence.

Inside every princess... says Zak. I know this one. It's not SPINCER.

Dear me, says Gaius. This won't do. Let me think.

Hi guys, says Rosamunda. Admiring our camper?

Is there any food in it? asks Surfing-With-Whales.

No, says Rosamunda. That's why we ate your sandwiches. Sorry.

She is about to offer everyone a cup of tea when:

SPHINCTER! says Gaius. Inside every princess! In fact .....

There's a sphincter inside everybody, says Unni.

Ha ha, laughs Stew, (thinking about the particular).

It's not funny, young man, says Marx. It's a tenet of socialism. A leveller. I vote we change SPINCER to SPHINCTER. All in favour?

I vote for SPHINCTER, says Gaius. We all have them. In the eye, the oesophagus, the stomach, the small intestine, the urethra, the anus and capillaries. Whales have them in their blowholes.

Blowholes! says Terence, brightening. I vote for blowholes!

Don't let him do it, says Unni.

Sometimes We Just Know Things

Ying gets out of the camper, where she has been writing labels for the swamp mud specimen jars.

She is still holding the pencil.

Where is everyone?

Oh. Round the back.

She goes round the back of the camper, and bumps into Arthur.

Arthur! says Ying. Have you been surfing?

Not yet, says Arthur. I went to the Edge of the World.

Nice, says Ying. Did you throw in a pebble?

No, says Arthur, the pebble.......

But Ying has just seen the pre-revolutionary slogan. 'Inside every princess....'

That's so wrong, says Ying. Is that why they were laughing? And what's Terence up to?

He's thinking of altering it, says Arthur.

But I haven't got a pencil, says Terence.

You don't need a pencil, says Ying. You need paint.

I need a pencil FIRST, says Terence.

Ying gives him the pencil.

Thank you , says Terence. Now how do you spell it?

Spell what? says Arthur.

Prince, stupid, says Terence. Write it in small writing down here for me to copy.

He can't spell! says Ying.

I can spell, says Terence, but I don't want to.

Arthur takes the pencil and writes in small writing on the side of the camper: PRINCE

That looks wrong, says Terence.

It isn't, says Arthur.

Sweezus comes up from the sand dune.

Anything to eat?

In the Hilux, says Arthur. Some sandwiches.

Good, says Sweezus, I'm starving.

They open the door of the Hilux which Zak never locks.

They open the sandwiches, from which the aroma of fish paste arises.

Marx appears round the side of the van.

Do I smell fish paste? Ah, the food of the masses.

Yes, says Sweezus. Have one.

Marx takes a fish paste sandwich.

Bloater, says Marx.

I don't think so, says Gaius, sniffing a sandwich. Salmon and pilchard.

Any paint? says Terence. I need it.

What for? says Rosamunda.

To do PRINCE, says Terence.

Oh yes, says Rosamunda, peering into the back of the Hilux. Here's some black paint in a spray can.

She gives it to Terence.

But don't use it all, says Rosamunda. It's not ours, remember.

Black paint! says Terence. Now watch this everybody.

He takes the black paint spray can over to the back of the camper, and sets to work.

No one is watching.

They are busy eating fish paste sandwiches, before Zak and the others come back.

But there are not all that many sandwiches. Zak's mum only made them for Zak.

Pretty soon they stop eating and one by one head back to the camper.

Oh Terence, says Ying.

What's he done? says Rosamunda.

Let's see, says Unni. Oh Terence.

What is it? says Marx

What? says Terence. What's wrong with it? Inside every princess .....

......is a SPINCE, says Marx. What does that mean?

SPINCE? says Terence. Um....it's not finished. Is it, Arthur?

It can't be finished, says Arthur.

Yes it can, says Gaius, frowning. Put an R in.

Terence puts an R on.

I said IN, says Gaius. Not on. What on earth is a SPINCER?

No such thing, says Marx.

Yes there is , says Rosamunda. It means 'one who is the keeper of provisions'.

Rosamunda is correct, but it is not clear how she came to know this.

Inside Every Camper

What has been happening, since Zak turned up at Green Point in the Hilux?

Cool things.

The waves have got bigger.

And Zak has brought two extra surfboards.

So when Sweezus and Arthur rock up there are three surfers out on the water.

Zak must've turned up, says Sweezus.

They drop their bikes and sit in a sand dune.

Best cold water surf breaks in the world, mutters Sweezus.

Arthur looks out to sea, where Zak is weaving and darting, Surfing-With-Whales is inside a wave tunnel, and Stew has come off in the spume.

Arthur gets up, walks over to the Hilux, looks in the window.

Yes! Sandwiches wrapped up in cling wrap.

Life is good.

Bruuummm? Errrk! Squuee! It's the camper. (A Wicked. You get what you pay for.)

Arthur! shouts Unni. You're here!

Arthur! shouts Terence. Look what we've got!

A camper, says Arthur.

We hired it, says Rosamunda. We didn't want to leave you guys with no transport.

No, says Arthur. You did though.

I mean for too long, says Rosamunda. Katherine wanted her car back.

Gaius climbs down from the camper.

Wonderful! says Gaius. Arthur, I have a job for you.

He is about to elaborate when Marx utters an exclamation.

Ach! ( or something like that).

Marx has emerged from the camper and noticed the writing on the back for the first time.

He reads aloud: 'Inside every princess there's a slut who wants to try it just once.'

Try what? says Terence.

I object to such pre-revolutionary slogans, says Marx. You girls disappoint me.

Unni and Rosamunda go round to the back of the camper.

That's why it was cheap says Unni. It's the holidays, and there was no one to do a new paint job.

Yes, says Rosamunda. We promised to fix it before we return it. Meanwhile we can't drive near any minors.

Am I a minor? says Terence.

Yes but you're on the inside, says Rosamunda.

I'm getting out now, says Terence. What does slut mean?

It's a fairy story, says Rosamunda. About a princess. But we need to change the ending. Any ideas?

Terence starts thinking.....thinking......thinking......what goes with princess?

Inside every princess is a PRINCE! says Terence.

Oh yes, like that works, says Unni.

It kind of DOES, says Rosamunda.

They both laugh.

What's so funny? says Gaius, who till now has been occupied talking to Arthur.

He reads the pre-revolutionary slogan.

Ha ha, laughs Gaius. I see. Oh, but....

Too late.

Everyone is offended.

One Step On The Way To Omniscience

Mohammed was wrong.

Only one of the ladies will return, thus spoke Mohammed.

Yet here are Unni and Rosamunda bowling along the Bass Highway towards Dismal Swamp in a camper.

I hope they're still there, says Unni.

They will be, says Rosamunda. They didn't have enough bikes.

But they had Arthur, says Unni.

They pull in to the Dismal Swamp car park.

There they are! says Rosamunda. Gaius!

Rosamunda! says Gaius. And Unni! We thought we were stranded.

Yes, says Terence. STRANDED! Arthur and Sweezus and Surfing-With-Whales and Stew nicked off with the bikes.

Look what we've got though, says Rosamunda. A camper. Where would you like to go now?

We must follow the others, says Gaius. I believe they've gone to Marrawah.

Marrawah it is, says Rosamunda. Get in.

Wait, says Unni. I haven't been down the slide. It's the single reason I came back to Tassie.

And Grandpa's not ready, says Terence. He's gone to the toilet.

And where's Ying? asks Unni. Did she go surfing?

I don't know, says Gaius. No she didn't. Ying! Where are you?

She's buying a postcard, says Terence.

It's most commendable that you know where everyone is, says Gaius.

Terence glows. It's one step on the way to omniscience.

I keep my eye out, says Terence. Like Grandpa.

Grandpa Marx emerges from the toilet, doing his straps up.

I don't like these eco-toilets says Marx. Not good for my boils, and my liver complaint. And my eyes are all watery.

That's not because of the toilet! says Rosamunda, aghast.

No, no, well yes, possibly, says Marx. But I used to be a heavy smoker.

La la la, says Terence. Not listening. You wouldn't do anything bad.

Ah, says Marx. Socialism at its finest. And the girls have returned. One of them, anyway....

Both of them, says Gaius. But where's Unni?

Gone down the slide, says Rosamunda. She won't be long.

She will, it takes AGES, says Terence.

Five minutes later Unni comes back up the track in a buggy.

My eye! says Gaius. If I'd known you could come up in a buggy......

You wouldn't have done it, says Unni.

He Only Knows Thrusting

Are we walking? asks the pebble.

No, we're on bikes, says Sweezus. You can go in my pocket.

Then I won't be able to direct you, says the pebble.

What do you suggest? asks Sweezus.

Up to you, says the pebble.

I can ride and hold a pebble, says Arthur.

Yeah? says Sweezus. Have a practice first.

This is nice of Sweezus. He doesn't want Arthur to fall off his bike out here far from anywhere.

Arthur has a practice first.

He wobbles. Rights himself. Wobbles.

No, says Sweezus. I don't think it's safe.

Arthur can be a problem solver if he wants to. He places the pebble between his teeth.

This is good, says the pebble. (Or Arthur).

Off they go, in a southerly direction, Arthur leading with the pebble in his mouth.

It has not occurred to Sweezus this is even more dangerous.

Over there! ( says the pebble in the mouth of Arthur).

Cool, says Sweezus. The famous Lineament.

Yes, my comfy home ( says pebble-Arthur).

Geology is mega-cool, says Sweezus. I should have studied harder.

What's to know? says pebble-Arthur.

Why it looks like that, says Sweezus. All this-way and that-way.

Good description, says pebble-Arthur. In fact it was formed by two folding events.

What were they? asks Sweezus.

He may regret asking this question.

And so may Arthur, who needs to swallow.

The first event, (says pebble-Arthur), produced a schistose axial planar fabric and isoclinal folds synchronous with thrusting.

Sweezus thinks about these interesting words. He hardly knows any of them. Except thrusting.

The second deformation (continues pebble-Arthur) produced a coarser schistosity and tighter isoclinal folds.

At this point Arthur decides to spit the pebble. It lands upon a meta-sedimentary composition, upside down.

What happened to the pebble? asks Sweezus.

It's somewhere down there, says Arthur.

With all the others, says Sweezus.

What do we do now? says Arthur.

Dunno, says Sweezus. Head off back to Green Point I suppose.

The pebble turns slowly, slowly, assessing his upside down home.

He begins the long process of righting himself.

This will take aeons.

Welcome back, says (you guessed it) no one, because pebbles don't think in that way...........

Goodbye Activist

Brian Inder stares out to sea from the Edge of the World. His soul is stirring.

He is no longer paying attention to physical things.

Sweezus has picked up a pebble, inspired by the text on the monument, and Zak's mother.

He looks down at the pebble he's chosen.

I know you, says the pebble.

Me? says Sweezus. I don't think so.

I know your type, says the pebble.

What is it saying? asks Arthur, coming closer.

It knows my type, says Sweezus. Is that insulting?

Could be, says Arthur.

It is, says the pebble. I don't mind saying so.

Do you have an issue? asks Sweezus.

Yes, says the pebble. No one thinks of us pebbles.

Wrong, says Sweezus. The monument. It's about man and the pebble. Pebble, mute witness of the aeons.

And then they chuck us into the ocean, says the pebble. Mute witness to man's thoughtlessness.

Look at that guy, says Sweezus. He's thoughtful.

There's a growing pile of us out there, says the pebble. All thinking the same. What's the point? Let us get moving in our own sweet time.

Where were you before? asks Arthur.

Arthur River Lineament, says the pebble. Wish I was back there. It was a comfortable sub-horizontal feature, with various slices vertically stacked.

Is it far? asks Arthur. We could go there.

I'd like that, says the pebble. Of course I'd get there myself eventually.

From anywhere? asks Sweezus.

He still wants to throw the pebble into the ocean from Edge of the World in a meaningful manner.

Anywhere, says the pebble, but I would like a lift, if one's going.

Come on, says Arthur. I want to see Arthur River, and the Lineament.

Okay, says Sweezus. Which way?

South, says the pebble. Goodbye Brian!

Brian Inder turns to watch their backs disappearing.

What does it matter, one pebble going off in a different direction? And that one was an activist. Good riddance.

Profoundly Mystical And Spiritual

I know someone in Marrawah, says Stew. He'll have a couple of surfboards. Let's go.

He takes them to Zak's house, and knocks on the door.

Zak's mum opens it.

Hello Stew, says Zak's mum. Looking for Zak? He's down at Green Point, same as usual.

They take the Green Point Road out of Marrawah, and turn right at Beach Road.

Soon they are at the top of the cliff track down to the ocean. The waves are middling today.

Even so they are skittery and snakish. Creamy green like apple fizz. White as zucchini.

Out there they see the outline of a surfer, travelling sideways.

That'll be him, says Stew.

But it isn't.

They sit down and look at the view.

Waves cliffs rocks grass sky.

Arthur gets up first.

Anyone want anything? says Arthur.

Like you know where to get anything, says Surfing-With-Whales. I know you. You're leaving.

All right, says Arthur. I'm leaving.

Zak'll be here soon, says Stew.

But Arthur is restless. He wants to see Arthur River. He wants to see Edge of the World.

He leaves, on one of the bicycles.

On the road back to Marrawah, he passes a Toyota Hilux heading to Green Point.

In the back are a couple of surfboards.

He thinks about turning back. But he doesn't.

..........

Sweezus follows him.

He soon catches up.

Edge of the World? says Sweezus.

Yes, says Arthur.

Do we know where it is? asks Sweezus, because he doesn't.

They head back to Zak's mum's place and ask.

She gives them directions.

Throw a pebble in for me, says Zak's mum.

Woo. That's mysterious.
.......

Sweezus and Arthur have reached the Edge of the World.

They stop. There's the usual boardwalk.

They walk down the boardwalk towards the sea.

A man is standing looking out at the ocean, near a monument.

Hello, says the man. Please don't speak.

Why not? asks Sweezus.

Because this place is profoundly mystical and spiritual, says the man. As you see. And if you don't see, you have no soul.

Heavy, says Sweezus.

Arthur reads the poem on the monument.

One day I will be no more
but my pebble will remain here
on the shore of eternity
mute witness for the aeons
that today I came and stood
at the edge of the world.
Brian Inder.

That's good, says Arthur.

Thank you, says Brian Inder.

Brian Inder returns to his profound contemplation.

Sweezus picks up a pebble.

Problem Solving For Marxists And Surfers

Ying is sulking.

Gaius thinks she has broken a burrowing crayfish.

She thinks it died naturally.

In fact, she thinks she knows why.

But to say would be to implicate Arthur.

So she says nothing.

Gaius and Marx are discussing what to do in the light of no transport.

We'll stay here. Someone will turn up, says Gaius. Either Arthur or Unni.

I disagree, says Marx. We might be here forever.

I will be here forever, says Terence.

No, you won't says Marx. There's no means of production.

I don't need a means of production, says Terence.

I see you don't understand Marxist principles, says Marx.

For that matter neither do I, says Gaius. What are they? Something about changing the world?

You could say that, says Marx. My motto is 'doubt everything'.

Doubt everything, says Ying. That's stupid.

Grandpa isn't stupid, says Terence. Grandpa knows everything.

If he knows everything, says Ying, how can he doubt everything. It's a contradiction.

Contradictions may be elucidated through dialectic, says Marx.

I doubt it, says Gaius. A contradiction is a contradiction.

No it isn't, says Terence.

There is an awkward moment, until Grandpa Marx laughs.

Lets go up to the top, says Marx. I want to speak to Mohammed.

All right, says Gaius. I think we have done all we can here.

They make their way up to the top of the slide, via the walkway.

You again, says Mohammed, seeing Marx at the window. Your friend says you might buy a postcard.

He holds up a postcard.

How much? says Marx.

Four dollars fifty, says Mohammed.

I knew it, says Marx. Extortion. Rest assured there will be no such things as postcards come the revolution.

No such things as postcards? Is he joking?

You can never be certain.

........

Sweezus, Arthur, Surfing-With-Whales and Stew have reached the end of Bass Highway and entered Marrawah.

Where's the beach?

It's three kilometres away.

They stop off at the Marrawah Tavern and drink Boag's while they figure out what to do next.

Thing is, says Surfing-With-Whales.

What? says Sweezus.

We haven't got surfboards, says Surfing-With-Whales

After several Boag's this seems like less of a problem.

Guilty Of Wrong Thinking

Gaius rejoins his working party, on the swamp floor.

Some of the party are missing.

Arthur's gone with the others, says Ying. But don't worry, he'll be back shortly.

I suppose he is organising bikes, or a car, and some pencils, says Gaius.

Yes..... I suppose so, says Ying.

He's going surfing, says Terence. It's not fair.  I never go ANYWHERE.

Surfing? says Gaius. How long will that take?

AGES, says Terence. And they're taking the bikes.

You realise what that means, says Marx.

It means I must go all the way back to the top again, says Gaius. And even then I may miss them.

Let's just keep working, says Ying.

She bends down and spoons another muddy sample into a bottle.

You are guilty of wrong thinking, says Marx. You misunderstand the nature of the collective.

What? says Ying. What collective? I am only interested in science.

Me too, says Terence. Only science.

Even Stew has deserted, says Gaius, looking round and not seeing Stew. He's going to lose several credits.

He's into Sustainable Tourism, says Ying scornfully, wiping the rim of her jar.

I like tourism, says Terence. I like everything now that Grandpa is here.

Marx looks embarrassed.

Tourism is exploitation, says Marx.

See, says Terence. And so is science.

Right, Terence, says Marx. Natural science is a real power of the ruling class.

Ying pretends to ignore him. She holds up her sample for Gaius.

This one has traces of burrowing crustacean, if I'm not mistaken, says Ying.

Traces? says Gaius. Is it dead? You have been using your spoon less than carefully.

Was no one listening? says Marx.

I was, says Terence. Ruling glass.

Class, says Marx.

Thank you, says Terence.

Good old Grandpa. Always says something nice.

.......

It is just as well that Gaius has not made a second trip to the top to catch the cyclists.

They are well on their way to Marrawah.

Sweezus, Arthur, Surfing-With-Whales and Stew.

How on earth do they justify such cavalier behaviour?

Let us listen, perhaps we will learn.

Sweezus: Pity it's not March.

Arthur: Why?

Sweezus: They hold the Rip Curl West Coast Classic in Marrawah in March.

Surfing-With-Whales: Awesome.

Sweezus: Not awesome. It's not March.

Stew: Tell you what's awesome.

Sweezus: What?

Stew: We can visit the Edge of  the World.

Surfing-With-Whales: Cool name.

Stew: And Arthur River.

Arthur: Arthur River?

Stew: Yep. Arthur River.

Surfing-With-Whales: Is there a pub there?

Stew: There's the Marrawah Tavern.

Sweezus: Awesome. I could murder a Boag's

This is ridiculous.

They're not feeling guilty at all.

Long Walk To The Bottom

Terence, says Gaius, let that be a lesson to you.

What lesson? asks Terence.

Not to blindly accept a bargain, says Gaius.

But Terence is pleased with his bargain. It was a good story.

What kind of mud pies were they? asks Terence.

What's that? says Marx.

His fertile mind has passed on to a contemplation of rent tax.

Mud pies, says Terence. The ones for your sisters.

THEY called them mud pies, says Marx. I made them with dough, but my hands were dirty.

Terence likes this development.

Sweezus is less impressed.

He is also quite keen to get going.

You guys coming? says Sweezus.

Sure, says Surfing-With-Whales. You got wheels?

Bikes, says Sweezus. What about you?

Arthur and me've got bikes, says Surfing-With-Whales.

No you haven't, says Ying. We're using them, Stew and me.

It dawns on Gaius that there is a problem.

........

Gaius is walking the board walk trail to the top of the Giant Slide, thinking.

The project has been going quite well.

Ying and Stew have collected multiple samples.

Pity Terence swallowed the best one.

But the upside is that after vomiting it up he collected another.

Which ought to be doubly informative.

However...

What was he thinking? .....oh yes, the problem of transport.



He arrives at the top, and goes straight to the office.

Raps on the glass.

Yes? says Mohammed. Uh. It's you.

Yes it is, says Gaius. I don't suppose the two young ladies.....?

The two young ladies have left, says Mohammed. Only one will return.

Which one? asks Gaius.

Miss Moon, says Mohammed.

Miss Moon. That could be either of them.

What did she look like, asks Gaius.

Like a boy, says Mohammed. A pretty one.

Gaius thinks it is probably Unni.

If that is so, he will no longer have access to pencils. Rosamunda has turned out to be less than reliable.

Thank goodness for Arthur.

Was there any message? asks Gaius. From the ladies?

No, says Mohammed. Have you been left in the lurch?

Of course not, says Gaius. I have just come up here to ....err... see if there might be a bus.

No bus, says Mohammed. Would you like to buy a postcard?

I am a natural historian, says Gaius. I don't buy postcards.

The money goes to the preservation of the Tarkine, says Mohammed.

Very commendable, says Gaius. Tell you what. Give me one. There's someone down there who may buy it.

I know who that is, says Mohammed. The old chap in the overalls. Pretends to be studying our business model. He doesn't fool me for a minute.

Never mind, says Gaius, quickly. I must return to my party. May I go down the slide?

Two dollars, says Mohammed.

Gaius is disgusted. He turns away and begins the long walk to the bottom.

The Truth About Hearing

I knew it, says Ying. That green slime didn't agree with him. I blame his Grandpa.

Terence lies in the mud in a coma.

When you are in a coma you hear everything.

But you can't have your usual say.

Terence is thinking: I did it for Grandpa's story.

But Marx, who isn't his Grandpa, and just looks like God ( but in brown overalls, less so), is not one to accept blame easily.

Don't blame me, says Marx.

We are not blaming you, says Gaius. We need to help Terence.

He won't die, says Arthur

Good one, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Sweezus looks doubtful, until he remembers. Terence can't die at his age.

Terence thinks (again comatosely): I want my story.

He might remain in a coma, says Ying. Food poisoning is serious.

It was dirt, says Stew. Lots of people eat it.

It was green slime, says Ying, and it came from where Arthur was lying.

Arthur wonders, momentarily, if drugs remain effective in vomit. Don't they go straight to your head?

Ying is annoyed that Marx is getting away with incitement.

She goes over to Terence and lifts his little head tenderly.

It seems to her that Terence is straining.

He's straining, says Ying.

To do what? asks Gaius.

I don't know, says Ying. Wake up Terence!

Terence makes an effort.

Blip blip. He opens his eyes. His eyes say: I want a story.

He wants a story, says Ying.

She has younger brothers. She knows the look.

I suppose I do owe him a story, says Marx.

Everyone looks at Marx. They all love a story.

Marx begins: When I was young I terrorised my five sisters. I drove them through the town at breakneck speed in our carriage. I made them eat mud pies. They endured my torments because at the end I had promised them a story. I was an excellent storyteller.

Is that it? says Arthur.

That's it, says Marx. True story.

Sweezus mulls over the story. Not bad for a short one. And quite clever the more you think about it, yeah........circular and self referential.

Surfing-With-Whales is an only child. He doesn't get it. No one made him eat mud pies.

That was a nice story, says Ying. And look, Terence is smiling.

Well almost. He's opening his mouth in an unusual way.

Bleuah!  He throws up the rest of the drug laced green slime mud vomit.

He sits up, feeling better.

Thank you Grandpa, he says.

Which just goes to show the truth about hearing while in a coma.

Science, Or Disaster On Disaster

Sweezus and Grandpa Karl Marx have appeared like a vision on the boardwalk.

Marx is dressed in brown overalls.

Sweezus is wearing his faithful old Bender Mash shorts, and a new khaki tee shirt sporting the logo Held Der Arbeit.

Man! says Surfing with Whales. Held der Arbeit! How come?

How come what? says Sweezus.

Hero of the Workers, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Awesome, says Sweezus, who hadn't bothered to ask Marx to translate the German.

What brings you here? asks Gaius. Although I must say, the more the merrier. Have you brought spoons?

I have not brought a spoon, says Marx. Spoons should be supplied to the workers.

They would be, says Gaius, But someone has to bring them.

Arthur, says Sweezus. Guess what?

You're channelling Terence, says Arthur.

Shit. Terence! says Sweezus. Forgot he'd be here. How's it going with Terence?

He's discovering science, says Arthur.

That's good, says Sweezus. Science is cool.

Yeah, says Surfing-With-Whales, who also likes science.

Science can be seen as a revolutionary force, says Marx.

I wouldn't go that far, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Terence stops jiggling his jar of green slime and comes over.

Let me see, says Marx. Green slime. And quite smelly. I remember when I studied agronomic chemistry under Liebig, he had a theory about the exhaustion of the soil.

It's not exhausted, says Terence. Look it's moving.

Tell you what, says Marx. If you eat it, I'll tell you a story.

Ying looks up from her careful spooning.

That's outrageous! says Ying. Don't do it, Terence.

But Terence is already doing it.

Respect! says Stew.

Well, says Gaius, standing up and rubbing his lower back, if you haven't come to help but to tell anecdotes and make ridiculous bargains with children...... what have you come for?

A holiday, says Sweezus. We finished the article. I got paid. We decided to come. Marx wants to study the business model at Dismal, and I'm going surfing.

In a stinky old swamp, says Terence. You're mental. I'm not growing up to be mental.

Surfing at Marrawah, says Sweezus. On the north west coast. There's wicked surfing.

Can I come? says Terence.

You won't be going anywhere, says Ying. You're all grey and ashen.

I am grey and ashen, says Terence. It's called cement, stupid.

And there was another reason, prompts Marx. To do with ownership rights.

Oh yeah, says Sweezus. You guys took Katherine's car. She wants it back pronto.

Dear me, says Gaius. That is inconvenient. She can't have it.

She is having it, says Sweezus. We saw Unni and Rosamunda at the top of the Giant Slide. They've already headed off back to Devonport.

If this is not enough of a disaster, at the very same moment, Terence falls into a coma.

Reasons for Being

What? says Arthur.

I made up a song, says Terence. Last night, I sang it.

Yes, says Stew. A song about a penguin.

Oh, sing it, says Ying.

Terence sings Don't Go Far Off.

That's good, says Arthur, but you got that from somewhere.

Pablo Neruda, says Ying.

I'm a poet like Arthur, says Terence.

No, says Arthur. I make up my own stuff. And you don't grow up to be a poet.

Terence is crushed. He'd forgotten.

That's not so bad, says Ying. You could grow up to be a scientist.

Yes, a scientist, says Gaius. Why not make yourself useful? Did you bring a spoon?

Terence hasn't brought a spoon, but Ying has.

She gives Terence a spoon.

Gaius gives him instructions.

Now Terence, collect spoonfuls of earth and drop them into these bottles, remembering where you got them. They'll need labels. says Gaius.

Terence takes his spoon and squats down in the mud beside Arthur.

He spoons up a sample.

Yuk, it's all slimy and green, says Terence.

That may tell us a lot, says Gaius. You are shaping up to be a good scientist. Pencil!

No one has a pencil.

.......

Everyone works diligently, except Arthur and Surfing-With-Whales.

The Giant Slide has reopened.

Soon more tourists come down. They walk about, admiring the sink hole.

First Tourist: Look, a group of scientists.

Second Tourist: Yes, and one is a baby.

First Tourist: So cute. He's got his own spoon and everything. Look he's collecting a sample.

Terence (overhearing): Want to smell it?

First Tourist: No thanks.

Terence: It's really stinky.

Second Tourist: No really, we must move on.

A third and fourth tourist appear on the path in the distance.

They draw near.

Third Tourist: Hey man ! Hey Arthur! Surfing-With-Whales!

Fourth Tourist: How fortuitous! We've found them.

Terence: Grandpa! You came! Look. I'm doing science! I've got my own slime jar!

Yes, it is Sweezus and Marx.

And their reasons for being here are many.

Disgusting Specimens

Gaius is getting impatient.

Still no sign of Arthur.

Rosamunda has an idea.

Terence, says, Rosamunda, How would you like to create a diversion?

All by myself? says Terence.

Yes, says Rosamunda. Squeeze through there, go down the boardwalk about fifty metres and start crying.

Then what will happen? asks Terence.

We'll tell the man we need to get in to rescue you, says Rosamunda.

That's not a diversion, says Terence. I know how to do a diversion. I do them all the time.

All right then, do your own diversion, says Rosamunda. When will you start?

I'm already starting, says Terence, walking up to the ticket office where Mohammed is turning away early customers.

Guess what? says Terence to Mohammed.

Sorry, we're closed, says Mohammed.

Terence goes back to Rosamunda.

You missed your chance, says Terence. You should have rushed in while I kept him talking.

I heard you, says Rosamunda. You just said Guess what? That wasn't long enough to do anything.

But it was.

Gaius, Ying and Stew have departed. Only Unni is here.

Where'd they go? asks Rosamunda.

Down that track there, says Unni, pointing. During Terence's diversion.

They were quick on their feet, says Rosamunda.

I should get a reward, says Terence.

In the number of minutes it takes to get down to the swamp floor by the walking trail, Gaius, Ying and Stew reach the bottom.

They are not  far from the spot where Arthur and Surfing-With-Whales are lying, filthy and groaning.

Arthur, says Gaius. You ought to have waited. You too, Surfing-With-Whales.

Surfing-With-Whales looks up from the mud, unfocused.

Big night! says Surfing-With-Whales.

Have you begun gathering specimens? asks Gaius.

Yes I have, says Arthur.

And indeed, he has gathered some specimens.

Ying giggles.

They should be in jars.

....

Meanwhile up top, Rosamunda, Unni and Terence are chatting to Mohammed.

The slide roof will be fixed soon, says Mohammed. Then you ladies can go down. Leave the baby with me for the morning.

Lovely, says Rosamunda. Thank you.

Cool, says Unni. Yes. Thanks.

No way, says Terence. I'm sliding and you can't stop me.

He runs wildly towards the gaping slide entrance and disappears down the hole.

Now look what you've done, says Rosamunda.

He won't get far, says Mohammed. The repair man will stop him.

But the repair man is standing on a box with his head above the cover, wielding sticky tape.

And we know what that's like, on an angle.

Terence being little, slides past him, and all the way down to the bottom, coming out like a cork.

Pop!

Arthur! cries Terence, spotting Arthur. Arthur, Arthur, GUESS WHAT?

What Chance Throws Up

Next morning, early, they drive back to the Dismal Swamp entrance.

They look for the tents, in which they left Arthur and Surfing-With-Whales.

The tents are empty.

That's strange. They must have gone in already, says Unni.

It's not nine o'clock, says Rosamunda.

They'll be somewhere about, says Gaius. You girls wait. Stew, Ying and I will take the walkway down to the forest floor.

You still have to pay to go in, says Ying. It's twenty dollars. The slide is two dollars extra.

We'll see about that, says Gaius, striding up to the ticket office.

Can I help you? says Mohammed.

Yes, says Gaius. I am from the University of Tasmania. I believe Poppy has arranged free entry for myself and my students.

Sorry, says Mohammed. We're closed.

So much the better, says Gaius.

Mohammed looks doubtful.

Ring Ring. Mohammed gets a phone call.

It's the repair man, come to fix the Giant Slide roof cover which was inexplicably ripped in the night.

Mohammed walks off to let in the repair man.

Gaius goes back to the others.

Right, says Gaius. I know some of you will be disappointed, but the Giant Slide is closed for today.

Boo, says Terence.

Don't cry, Terence, says Unni. You couldn't go on it anyway.

Boo isn't crying, says Terence.

What do we do now, team leader? asks Stew.

We proceed as planned, says Gaius. Down to the forest floor, to look for the burrowing crayfish, and collect samples.

But how? asks Ying. Isn't it closed?

Wait for Arthur, says Gaius, confidently.

..........

Arthur and Surfing-With-Whales are at the bottom of the blackwood sink hole already.

But look at them.

Are they even awake?

Not really, thanks to the pills. They've been lying on the swamp floor, damp as anything, surrounded by burrowing crayfish.

But it's morning now, and daylight has penetrated the depths of the forest.

Pink-breasted robins and olive whistlers carol in the blackwoods and leatherwoods.

Pademelons hop over spotted tail quolls, landing on liverworts and fungi.

The devils have gone into hiding.

The masked owl has flown away.

Surfing-With-Whales groans.

Arthur wakes up and vomits. The vomit is watery and green.

The burrowing crayfish stop chewing.

Tender Night Thoughts After Chicken Salt

Are we THERE yet? asks Terence.

Nearly, says Rosamunda.

They are driving back into Smithton.

What'll be for dinner? asks Terence.

We haven't decided, says Unni.

Can I have chips? asks Terence.

I vote for chips, says Stew.

I vote for vegan, says Ying.

Chips are vegan, says Stew.

Not with chicken salt! frowns Ying.

You're not vegan, says Stew.

I am sometimes, says Ying.

Me too, says Rosamunda.

Me too, says Unni.

What's this? says Gaius, who has been thinking about magnesite cave systems.

We don't like chicken salt on chips, when we're being vegan, says Unni. Except for Stew.

There's no chicken in chicken salt, says Gaius.

Stew looks surprised.

They arrive back in Smithton.

They look for a nice B and B.

........

They find a nice B and B with two bedrooms.

Rosamunda, Unni and Ying are in one.

It is bedtime. The lights are out. But no one is asleep yet.

Ying: Is Arthur either of you's boyfriend?

Unni: Arthur? No.

Rosamunda: No, not Arthur. He's ..... a poet. Do you like him?

Ying: No! Yes. Well, he's nice.

Rosamunda: That's probably the first time anyone's used nice in connection with Arthur.

Ying: That's odd. What about the other one?

Unni: He WAS my boyfriend.

Rosamunda: Was he?  Why'd you break up?

Unni: He's a bit of a dickhead.

Rosamunda: So how come he's here?

Unni: I wanted him for a ......never mind.

Rosamunda: To get rid of the lobster? Then you didn't need him? And now he's .......?

Unni: Surplus to requirements. Exactly.

Ying: That's cruel.

Unni: Most men are surplus to requirements.

Rosamunda: Not all. I did love Ming Rong.

....

In the boys' bedroom, Terence is thinking of Baby Bin Penguin whose last words were: Don't go far off.

He sings softly to himself, in his bunk bed:

Don't go far off (sings Terence)
Not even for a day
Because a day is long
And I will be waiting
A penguin in a car park
Asleep.

You're not a penguin, says Stew.

It's not about me, says Terence. It's about Baby Bin Penguin.

And you, says Stew, (who is perceptive).

Nonsense, says Gaius, (who is not).

Trees Go Both Ways

Got a torch? says Surfing-With-Whales.

It's dark in the rainforest.

We don't need one, says Arthur.

They scramble over a fence onto a boardwalk.

Creak, creak. Hissss! Chaaaaw!

Shh! says Surfing-With-Whales.

That wasn't me, says Arthur.

At the end of the boardwalk is the locked door to the gift shop and cafe.

Opposite the door, a black hole.

That'll be the entrance, says Surfing-With-Whales. Shit, they leave it open. Freakin awesome!

Arthur peers into the blackness.

Suuuurck, phwuuur, says the black hole seductively. Take a cuuuuush-ion.

Arthur takes a cushion. He enters the hole. He sits down on the cushion and launches himself into oblivion.

Surfing-With-Whales lacks the sensitivity of Arthur. He does not grab a cushion.

He enters the hole behind Arthur.

Surfing-With-Whales is the lucky one.

Arthur's cushion has soaked up the dew.

Arthur has come to a halt on the 110 metre Giant Slide only ten metres down it.

Thwack! Surfing-With-Whales thuds into him.

Now they're both stuck there.

What if we climb over the cushion? says Surfing-With-Whales. And keep on sliding.

Too wet, says Arthur. Let's try and get out.

The Giant Slide is roofed over with plastic.

Got a knife? asks Surfing-With-Whales.

Arthur feels in his pockets.

Nothing but fish bones.

Surfing-With-Whales feels in his.

Nothing.

Except a few pills.

.......

Arthur and Surfing-With-Whales have ripped a hole in the roof with the fish bones.

They've stood up, holding onto the side, and looked out.

In the dim starlight they see they are up in the tree tops. The blackwoods and leatherwoods, and the King Billy pines.

A Masked Owl flits by them.

Whadowedo NOW? says Surfing-With-Whales.

Climb down to the bottom, says Arthur.

But that's WAY DOWN! says Surfing-With-Whales. And fuckin SWAMPY.

What choice do we have? says Arthur.

Climb back up, says Surfing-With-Whales. Trees go both ways.

You can, says Arthur.

He hoists himself out of the slide and into a leatherwood, and starts shinnying down.

Bloody hell, says Surfing-With-Whales. There'll be all sorts down there. Tassie Devils. Man-eating crayfish.

( This is his bad conscience speaking. He had been quite prepared to kill Louis-Claude ).

But he doesn't want to lose contact with Arthur.

He chooses another tall tree and begins to climb down.

Squelch. Arthur has hit the forest floor. It is swampy.

Chaaaaw. Hiss. There's a devil somewhere.

Chomp, chomp. That's the soft sound of a thousand burrowing crayfish, continually churning the soil, which provides ideal conditions for blackwood seed germinations in the Dismal Swamp sink hole.

Don't say this is not educational.

Reintroduction To Habitat

Dismal Swamp. It's only twenty five minutes from Smithton.

Rosamunda: We're here. Now what?

Gaius: We enter.

Unni: It's half past three. They close at five.

Ying: And Arthur isn't here yet.

Stew: And the other one. The surfer.

Unni: Surfing-With-Whales.

Terence: I'm not going in without Arthur.

Rosamunda: Of course not. We'll wait for them here.

...........

It's four o'clock. They're still waiting.

It's getting cooler. The wind blows through the Celery-tops.

Blackwoods and Huon pines stir.

Call them, says Unni. See where they are.

There's limited coverage out here, says Stew.

Sure enough. There is limited coverage.

.......

Five o'clock. Dismal Swamp is closing.

People stream out.

That was awesome, says a child. Can we come back again mummy?

Yes, says mummy. Next time we come to Tasmania.

Terence looks at the child.

What kind of child is it? A short one.

His hopes rise.

And can I go on the slide next time mummy?

Yes dear, you'll be taller by then.

........

Arthur and Surfing-With-Whales have not been in a hurry to get here.

There they are, says Unni. The slackers. Oi! Over here!

You've held us up, boys, says Gaius. And now Dismal Swamp is closing.

Sorry, says Surfing-With-Whales. Took us a while to get rid of the King George whiting. You can't hurry a reintroduction to habitat.

No, no, agrees Gaius. Well, let's find a campsite.

We might have to go back to Smithton, says Ying.

No way! says Surfing-With-Whales.

What do you suggest then? says Gaius. It's getting chilly.

Stew and I have one man tents in our back packs, says Ying.

.......

Night time in the cool rainforest, not far from the entrance to Dismal Swamp.

Probably not supposed to be camping.......

However.

This is shit, says a voice from a one man tent, in the darkness.

Doesn't have to be, says a voice from the other.

It's Arthur.

Yeah? says Surfing-With-Whales. What would make it less shit?

The Giant Slide at night, says Arthur. Want to come with me?

Fuck yeah! says Surfing-With-Whales.

The Bones Of Regret

Arthur and Surfing-With-Whales cycle down to Duck Bay with the King George whiting.

The King George whiting is hopeful of being returned.

He can't see very well. He interprets directional vibrations.

Of which there are many.

He dreams of home, the swaying zostera and posidona seaweed beds.........

The bicycles come to a halt.

Let's cook him, says Surfing-With-Whales. You go and find a forked stick.

Arthur goes off to look for a forked stick, while Surfing-With-Whales digs a hole in the sand for a campfire.

This is reprehensible.

They've already eaten two lunches.

.........

Are we there yet? says Terence.

Nearly, says Rosamunda.

Goody! I'm first on the slide, says Terence.

You may not be allowed on the slide, says Unni.

He won't be, says Ying. He's too short.

I'm not short, says Terence.

How tall are you? says Stew.

When I lived in a palace, says Terence, I dwelt on high. I looked down on people.

Ying shakes her head.

They have a measuring post, says Ying. If you don't measure up, you can't go down.

Arthur will let me, says Terence.

Arthur may be resourceful, but he can't perform miracles, says Gaius.

I know! says Terence. Call Grandpa! He wants to come.

Absolutely not, says Gaius. And Marx isn't your grandpa. Why can't you comprehend that?

Marx? says Stew. THE Marx?  Is he your Grandpa?

Yes, says Terence. He rules the world.

No he doesn't, says Ying, who has long eschewed communism.

But he's famous, says Stew. Why don't you call him? It would look good on....ahem..... it would be good.

I know what you were going to say, says Ying. Good on your CV. You're so self-interested.

Who was it asked for a credit? says Stew.

I worked for that credit, says Ying. I looked high and low for that fossil.

Peach stone, says Stew.

Let's hope they arrive at Dismal Swamp soon. It's all going pear-shaped in here.

.......

Arthur and Surfing-With-Whales are leaving Duck Bay.

On the beach behind them lies a fish head, one blank white eye turned skyward.

No bones to be seen.

The fish bones, scraped clean, are in Arthur's pocket.

Curved, delicate, sharp fish bones which may come in useful one day.

The Mind Of A Fish And A Cockle

Gaius and Terence arrive back at the car with the King George whiting.

You've caught a fish! says Rosamunda

I was given it, says Gaius.

It's alive! says Unni. Gaius, you should throw it back into the water.

I thought we might eat it, says Gaius.

The King George whiting goes stiff.

.........

Ying and Stew emerge from the Serendipity Cafe.

Sorry we took so long, says Ying. Oh, a King George whiting!

It's not looking too well, says Stew.

Terence pokes at the King George whiting.

It's hungry, says Terence. Know how I know?

Don't tell us, says Ying.

It's opening and shutting, says Terence.

And it is. But not because it's hungry.

........

Arthur and Surfing-With-Whales are cycling through Smithton.

Hey guys! calls Rosamunda.

They stop and dismount.

Geez! A King George whiting! says Surfing-With-Whales.

Someone gave it to Gaius, says Rosamunda.

And we're going to eat it, says Terence.

It's not big enough, says Surfing-With-Whales. Where'd it come from?

Duck Bay, says Gaius, but we really must get a move on......

Give it here. I'll take it, says Surfing-With-Whales.

The King George whiting can understand English.

It utters a sigh of relief.

Possibly unwarranted.

........

The car heads off in the direction of the Tarkine.

Sorry, sorry, so sorry, says Terence, in the back seat.

That's okay, says Ying.

Not you, the fishy, says Terence. I think it was trying to talk.

Fish don't talk, says Stew.

Quite true, says Gaius. Terence knows very little. Perhaps he might benefit from his time in the back seat with us. What can we tell him about King George whiting. Ying?

They eat amphipods and polychaete worms, says Ying.

So it's a bird, says Terence. Ha ha Gaius!

No, Terence, says Gaius. Ying is quite correct. What about you, Stew? What can you teach Terence?

They don't eat molluscs, says Stew. Kind of weird, because the main bait used by fishers is cockles.

So what? says Terence.

Cockles are molluscs, says Rosamunda, over her shoulder.

How do you know? says Terence.

She's right, says Gaius.

But... says Terence.

He wishes the King George whiting was here.

He would ask it? Do you or don't you like cockles?

And it would say. Yes, if they're peeled.

Terence is not far wrong here, except he imagines that cockles are something like prawns.

In fact, cockles are opened when used as bait for King George whiting.

That is why, as a bait, cockles are very successful, even though they are molluscs.

(Cockles think otherwise of course).

Fish Have No Feathers

Excuse me , says Ying politely.

Yes, says Gaius.

Please could we stop in Smithton, says Ying. Only.....

She's HUNGRY, says Terence. Want to know how I know? Her stomach is ......

You are a rude baby, says Ying.

Yes Terence, says Rosamunda. No need to mention such things.

That's nothing, says Terence. What about farting?

That's even worse, says Rosamunda. But Ying hasn't been farting.

How do you know? says Terence.

Ying has turned crimson. and developed a case of the hiccups.

Hic! says Ying. Hic! Hic! I'm so sorry.

Stop in Smithton, says Unni.

Okay, says Rosamunda.

Stew is glad. He is  hungry too. And no one has accused him of farting.

So the car pulls up in beautiful Smithton.

Ying and Stew get out and go into the Serendipity Cafe.

I'll take a short stroll, says Gaius. Have a look round Duck Bay.

He heads off towards the sound of ducks quacking.

That must be the way.

Inside the Serendipity Cafe Ying opens her wallet.

Hic! says Ying. I thought I had cash in this wallet.

You most probably did, says Stew. Until Arthur got hold of it.

Don't you say a word against Arthur, says Ying. Not unless you can prove it.

I don't have to prove it, says Stew. Anyway let me buy you something.

Thank you, says Ying. I'll have a donut, and a lightly sparking water.

Stew opens his wallet.

Ying puts her wallet away.

Rosamunda, Unni and Terence have remained in the car.

Let's get out, says Terence. I want to see Smithton.

No, says Rosamunda. We'll wait here. It'll put pressure on the others.

Boring, says Terence. Boring, boring, uh-uh-uh.... I can't breathe. It smells farty in here.

You can get out for a minute says Unni. Just don't go away.

Terence gets out. Ha ha. It hadn't smelled farty. Now he can go where he likes.

He wanders down to Duck Bay, after Gaius.

But Gaius is a long way ahead.

Gaius has reached the protected estuary, and discovered the reclaim.

The reclaim is a wonderful place for fishing if you are lazy or disabled.

You can fish from your car.

Gaius pokes his head in the window of a car from which a rod is protruding.

G'day, says the fisher, who is lazy, (not disabled).

Catching anything? asks Gaius.

Yup, says the fisher. Plenty of King George whiting running today.

Impressive! says Gaius.

Here, says the fisher. Have one.

He hands Gaius a wriggling and gasping King George whiting.

A man may be lazy, but he can still be generous.

Thank you, says Gaius.

 He heads back to the Serendipity Cafe with the King George whiting, still wriggling.

On the way he meets Terence.

Yuk! a SKINNED BIRD! says Terence.

It's a fish, says Gaius. Fish have no feathers. Look and learn.

Global Trade Empty Wallet

Arthur has disappeared temporarily behind the car.

He comes back with the wallets.

This is yours, he says to Stew.

Stew looks inside his wallet.

All his money is there. If anything, more than he remembers.

And this is yours, says Arthur, presenting a wallet to Ying.

A cute wallet with cut out red flowers on. Yes, it's her wallet.

But Ying is not looking at the wallet. Much less looking inside.

How blue are Arthur's eyes. What a nice boy.

She shoves the wallet into her pocket.

Now everything's fine.

........

They are heading for Smithton, home of Duck River, one of Tasmania's best fishing spots.

In the car are Gaius, Rosamunda, Unni, Terence and the two students, Ying and Stew.

Arthur and Surfing-With-Whales are riding the bicycles, some distance behind.

Arthur: This is good. My knee's better.

Surfing-With-Whales: Cool.

Arthur: Why are you looking like that?

Surfing-With-Whales: Like what?

Arthur: Like you can't believe something.

Surfing-With-Whales: Yeah well.

Arthur: Well?

Surfing-With-Whales: Man it's embarrassing. Remember I did those finger signals?

Arthur: Yes. Thanks for the warning.

Surfing-With-Whales: But you hadn't taken the money.

Arthur: No.

Surfing-With-Whales: Humble apologies. I thought, because you paid for the lunches.......

Arthur: That was Ying's contribution.

Surfing-With-Whales: Cool. Awesome woman. She found a weird peach stone as well.

.......

In the car, the dynamic has changed.

Rosamunda: We won't stop in Smithton.

Unni: I'm with you. Let's push on to Dismal.

Ying: But we're supposed to be doing the GeoTrail.

Rosamunda: We've done quite enough GeoTrail. You didn't come to Table Cape.

Ying: What was wrong with it?

Unni: Flat and boring.

Ying: It's an extinct volcano from thirteen million years ago.

Rosamunda: Exactly. Can't even grow proper tulips.

Ying: It can. It's a rich fertile plain. They export tulips to Holland.

Gaius: Do they? Ridiculous!

Stew: It's entrepreneurial. It makes money for Tasmania.

Gaius: And the Dutch need the tulips of course.

Terence: They've got ALL the tulips!

Ying: You don't understand global trade.

If She Trusts Anyone

Gaius sits down on the bench beside Ying, Stew and Surfing-With-Whales.

This is nice, says Gaius, looking at his wrist watch. We can get to know one another while we wait for the others.

Good. We have a few questions, says Stew.

Fire away, says Gaius.

You're the team leader, says Stew. How do we earn extra credits?

Dude! says Surfing-With-Whales. Extra credits! This isn't school.

Gaius frowns at Surfing-With-Whales.

Extra credits, says Gaius. Ying has already earned one extra credit by finding a petrified scat from an ancient marsupial. I trust you made notes, he adds, looking at Ying in a school masterly manner.

Not yet , says Ying. What should I ....?

A map showing where you found it, says Gaius. X marks the spot would be helpful.  Have you brought a pencil?

Yes, but it's in my backpack, says Ying.

That's the other question, says Stew.

What is? asks Gaius vaguely. He is thinking about humankind's terrible dependence on pencils.

Surfing-With-Whales is finding it hard to contain himself.

Bwaahaha! he explodes.

What is the matter? says Gaius.

X marks the spot! says Surfing-With-Whales. That's from a movie! Pirates of the Caribbean.

What? How childish he is. But the subject of the whereabouts of the backpacks has been avoided .

I love all those movies, says Ying.

.....

Katherine's car pulls up, and Rosamunda, Unni, Arthur and Terence get out.

At last, says Gaius. Now we can get a move on.

We just got here! says Terence.

Yes we just got here, says Unni. Ask us if we saw any tulips.

Tulips! says Ying. You wouldn't have. They bloom early spring.

Correct says Rosamunda. All dead. Wrong season.

Dead, says Terence. I blame the birds.

Stew is trying to catch the eye of Arthur.

But Arthur is not looking at Stew.

He is looking at Surfing-With-Whales who is making finger signals.

Hey guys, says Ying, now that you're here, where's our backpacks? Our lunch is in them. And my pencil.

Oops, says Rosamunda.

Oops? says Stew.

We ate your lunches, says Rosamunda. We felt peckish. Sorry.

You owe us both lunch then, says Stew.

Sure, says Rosamunda. Tomorrow, lunch is on us.

We still need the back packs says Stew. Our wallets.....

Arthur has them, says Rosamunda, I think..... for safe keeping.

That's alright then, says Ying.

If she trusts anyone, it's that nice-looking Arthur.

Where is he?

They Click As They Jiggle Together

Oh hi! says Ying sweetly. We found you at last.

Hi, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Where're the others? asks Stew. They've got our back packs. You had lunch yet?

Yeah, we had lunch already, says Surfing-With-Whales. The others'll be back shortly. You've got time to get lunch.

Can't, says Stew. Lunch is in our backpacks. Along with our money.

Sit down. Chill out, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Stew and Ying sit down on the bench beside him.

What took you so long? asks Surfing-With-Whales, deftly changing the subject from money.

We went to Fossil Bluff first, says Ying. We thought you guys would be down there.

Yeah, why? asks Surfing-With-Whales.

The GeoTrail? says Stew. Fossils? Natural History? Regional Science? Our team project?

Uh? says Surfing-With-Whales. Fossils? Find any? Bet you didn't. Mum and me, we used to go looking for fossils, never found any.

Where do you live? asks Ying.

Adelaide, says Surfing-With-Whales.

There would be fossils there, says Ying.

No, there wouldn't, says Surfing-With-Whales.

He is an expert at not finding fossils.

I found this though, says Ying, holding out the peach stone.

That's a peach stone, says Surfing-With-Whales.

I know, says Ying. I won't show it to Gaius.

You should. Bet he thinks it's a fossil, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Oh come on! says Stew.

Gaius appears in the distance.

Gaius gets closer.

He's here.

Would you believe it , says Gaius. They don't sell cheese at the cheese factory.

They wouldn't, says Stew. What you wanna go there for anyway? They just make pleb cheese.

Pleb cheese, laughs Gaius. Ha ha, you have tickled my funny bone.

Show him the fossil, says Surfing-With-Whales.

You found a fossil? says Gaius. Is it by any chance from the ancient marsupial Wynyardii Bassiana?

It could be, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Ying takes the peach stone from her pocket. It's in two parts. It clicks as she jiggles them together.

Click click. The sound two stones make.

A petrified scat! says Gaius. Well done, Ying.

Look again. It's a peach stone, says Stew.

No no! says Gaius. That is just what it LOOKS LIKE.