Arthur is standing outside the Regent Theatre in Hay Street.
He has just made fifty dollars, selling his free ticket to someone who needed one extra.
As the queue files past him he sees a face that's familiar.
Arthur! says Nerida Wilson. Are you going to the ballet?
No, says Arthur.
Would you like to? asks Nerida.
No ticket, says Arthur.
My friend couldn't make it, says Nerida. So I have a spare ticket. Would you like to come with me?
All right, says Arthur. Thank you. It'll be warmer in there.
How did the trip go? asks Nerida. Did Gaius find a ruby sea dragon?
Long story, says Arthur. One of our party speared one and ate it, all except for the head. Then after Gaius had seen it, this same party member ate the rest of the head, all but the snout and one eyeball. I had the snout and eyeball on a skewer till just now, but I swapped it for needles and feathers. If you keep your eyes open, you'll see it on stage, standing in for the death-dealing spindle.
Oh Arthur! ha ha, how funny, laughs Nerida, not believing him for one second.
By now they are in their seats and the overture is beginning.
Let us gloss over the performance. We do not like ballet.
Let us look at the audience. Let us hear what they whisper.
A little girl in pink netting, with sparkly runners: Oh mummy! Is that a real fairy? Why is she ugly?
Mummy: She's the evil fairy. Shoosh now and wait for the princess.
Snobby ballet critic: This dancing is not up to standard. Did you see that dreadful plié?
Second snobby ballet critic: I did. And the costumes look tired. The wigs need attention.
Lady in velvet: It's so gorgeous and lovely. Oh, I could watch it all evening.
Her husband: I feel like I have.
Person who doesn't normally go to the ballet: Know what? I reckon they're miming.
His girlfriend: You dickhead. It's BALLET. How can they be miming?
Grumpy old person: Who is that crunching? Stop crunching. Crisps ought to be banned in the theatre.
Nerida (nudging Arthur): Is that your skewer?
Arthur: It was.
........
While Arthur is keeping warm at the ballet in Perth, Sweezus, Gaius and Baby Pierre are staying one last night at the Esperance backpackers.
Baby Pierre, the new golden boy.
Gaius can't get over the fine detailed drawings that Baby Pierre drew in his notebook.
Tell me again about this one, says Gaius.
It's screwed up paper, says Baby Pierre.
So lifelike, says Gaius. And this ruby sea dragon. You must have a photographic memory.
Sort of, says Baby Pierre. Actually.....
Actually, says Sweezus, he drew it from life.
You mean? says Gaius.
Yes, says Sweezus. I found a dead one while I was swimming this morning.
Why didn't you tell me before? says Gaius. Let me see.
Sweezus reluctantly pulls the dead sea dragon out of his pocket.
O guilt. O sorrow. It should still be alive.
Gaius is peering intently at the dead ruby sea dragon.
He pokes it with his finger. Some red dye comes off.
Hm, says Gaius. This may be a common sea dragon which is dyed red for some reason.
Full marks for astuteness.
No kidding, says Sweezus. Common. That's awesome. I don't feel so bad now.
No need to feel bad at all, says Gaius. We still have the head of the real one. Arthur will have delivered it to Nerida at the Museum by now.
Oh dear. That is not quite what has happened. Let us hope that something comes up which sends Gaius off on a tangent.
Ring ring! That's his phone. This could be it now.
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