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.