Called To Glory

La Manche. Northern France. In La Sirène Lochet. A café.

Vello: These crepes are delicious.

David: Yes, egg, ham and cheese on a pancake. Almost Scottish.  I think I'll have another.

Marx: Shouldn't you be watching your diet?

David: Look who's talking! Who ordered banana and chocolate to follow?

Marx: Fruit is healthy.

Vello: Indeed. Look at young Pablo Neruda over there, eating a tomato. Now I call that healthy.

David: Gaius would dispute that.

Marx: How is Gaius?

Vello: Fit as a fiddle, worse luck. A few minor bruises after the accident. He's still coming, though.

David: I suppose he'll be valuable as a back-up.

Vello: No he's changed teams. He's riding for Team Condor.

Marx: Is that Pablo's team?

David: Yes it is! Pablo! Come and join us!

Pablo comes over, with a half eaten tomato.

Vello: Heard anything from Sweezus? How is he?

Pablo: Ay! A broken collar bone.

David: So, is Gaius team leader?

Pablo: Que no! Arthur is the team leader. Gaius is domestique.

Vello: Ha ha. He won't like that much.

David: I thought Arthur was injured.

Pablo: He was, but it was only on his knees, some scrapings. Also the infant, some small pieces have fallen off him.

Marx; Are we talking about young Terence?

Pablo: Si. The young Terence.

Marx: Is he coming?

Pablo: Si. He has one wish. To ask of his grandfather a question.

Marx: Good grief! Meaning me? Don't tell me he still harbours that foolish fantasy.

Vello: Come on man, it's flattering.

Marx: Do you know the question?

Pablo: No. He won't tell it.

David: Little scallywag. Probably just wants to manipulate everyone. Oh look! Is that André Greipel?

Vello: It is. What's he got there?

Pablo: A crepe with banana and chocolate.

David: Well, Vello, does that surprise you?

André Greipel: This is a banana and chocolate crepe for someone at this table.

Marx: That would be me. Thank you!

Andre Greipel: No worries. Just helping out. It's getting busy.

David: So it is. Is that Richie Porte?

Vello: Hey! Richie!

Richie comes over.

Richie: Hey Pablo! Bad luck about Sweezus!

Pablo (morosely): Thanks.

Richie: Who's your new team leader?

Pablo: Arthur.

Pablo takes a bite from his neglected tomato.

Marx starts on his chocolate banana.

Vello and David finish their crepes.

André raises an eyebrow at Richie.

 Everyone tries to imagine what sort of team leader Arthur will turn out to be.

When The Odds Are Against You

It's early afternoon.

Sweezus, Arthur and Gaius ride through the stone gates of Mount Baw Baw Alpine Resort.

On their way, via Moe, back to Melbourne.

The sun shines on the dazzling snow drifts.

The road is slippery with ice patches.

Gaius is being careful. He doesn't want to have an accident. He will soon be riding in the Tour de France.

Jumping Jupiter's snowballs! When is it?

When is the Tour de France? says Gaius to Sweezus, who is right behind him.

Saturday, says Sweezus. Yeah, we've cut it kind of fine. But we can make it.

Gaius does the maths. They might make it. As long as Vello has already booked the fights.

Better call him.

But it's difficult on this slippery road, without stopping.

Arthur, says Gaius. Is your phone charged?

No, says Arthur. It isn't.

Mine is, says Sweezus. Why?

Just wanted to check something with Vello, says Gaius.

No worries, says Sweezus, confident that he can ride down a slippery road and make a phone call without falling off his bicycle.

But can he? It's not up to him entirely.

Sweezus drags his phone out of his pocket. Keys in the number, with his thumb.

Weeeuuh! A glassy piece of black ice slides under his front wheel. He wobbles.

Vello? Boss? Hi! says Sweezus. Yeah, we're just coming. Yeah, Gaius. No, he didn't find one. Yeah everything went kind of balls up. BALLS UP! D'you wanna talk to Gaius? Here he is.....

Gaius reaches out to take the phone from Sweezus.

Watch out! A pile of snow drops dangerously from a passing ash tree, near his front wheel.

Vello? says Gaius. Have you booked our flights yet?

Gaius, says Vello. Do you realise what day it is? David and I are in France already. We're acclimatising. And Marx is with us.

Oh? says Gaius. Marx? What's he doing there?

He's riding in Team Philosophe, says Vello. So you needn't hurry.

Gaius zigzags wildly round an icy corner, narrowly missing a Tingaringy gum tree.

Woah! says Sweezus.

Watch out! says Arthur.

Gaius rights himself, ends the call abruptly and hands the phone back to Sweezus.

Would you believe it! says Gaius. I'm off the team. They're doing the Tour without me.

No way! says Sweezus.

Ousted by an older man, says Gaius. Karl Marx is there with them.

GRANDPA! says Terence, struggling up from the bottom of Sweezus's back pack.

Sweezus nearly loses his grip on the handlebars. Weeoowow! But he regains control masterfully.

Are we going to see Grandpa? asks Terence. I need to ask him a QUESTION!

Sit down! says Sweezus.

He swerves into the path of Arthur, who jerks his front wheel sideways and knocks into Gaius.

Damn!

That was always going to happen.

In And Out Of Sorrow

The sun shines on the sparkling snow.

Sweezus is skiing down an intermediate ski slope.

He reaches the bottom without incident.

Life is good, and May thinks so too.

She is at the bottom, having come down even faster.

Schwooooosch! She watches Sweezus come in.

He showers her with snow spray.

You're not bad, says May, brushing off the snow spray.

Yeah, well, says Sweezus. Good legs.

A small figure runs up to them, wearing shorts, and a large tam o' shanter.

Terence! says Sweezus. Where've you been?

On a tray, says Terence. Gaius was pulling me.

How cute, says May. Did you go in and out of the pine trees?

I went in and out of SORROW, says Terence.

Hum. This is heavy.

How come, little buddy? asks Sweezus.

Sweezus doesn't know what happened last night to the Green Grocer Cicada, having left the night club with May before anything happened.......

What happens when you die? asks Terence.

You go to heaven, says May. And you see all your rellies. It's probably not all that great. And you have to stay there forever. It's blue. And shiny.

That's a really cool answer, says Sweezus.

Thanks, says May.

And what do you LOOK like? asks Terence.

You look happy, says May.

What if you got murdered? asks Terence.

Where's this going? asks Sweezus.

Nowhere, says Terence. What if your friend got put down on top of you, and your guts all came out, and you died and your friend's parrot ate you?

Wicked! says May. That's what I call a scenario. Are you top of your class in English?

He's Spanish, says Sweezus. He's from Barcelona.

Ahha! laughs May. Fawlty Towers!

No. Sagrada Familia, says Sweezus.

Oh, I get it, says May. That's why he looks like a statue.

What about my QUESTION? says Terence.

You'd be inside your friend's parrot, says May.

In heaven? says Terence.

One day. When the friend's parrot died, says May.

Looking happy, says Sweezus.

My parrot? says Terence. Or the dinner? And he shouldn't have to WAIT.

He wouldn't have to wait, says Sweezus. Let me get this straight. The cicada is cactus. Flattened by you, then eaten by the parrot. And you want to know if the cicada's all right.

Yes, says Terence.

Think about it, says Sweezus.

Terence looks confused. Then thoughtful. Then sad.

Then his brow clears and he looks like a carefree young cherub.

Cherubs don't care about anything.

I'm going to have another go on my tray, says Terence. See you!

Don't go too far off, says Sweezus. We're heading back to Melbourne this arvo.

Aw, says May. I'm gonna miss you.

The Long Dreadful Smear Of Events

Next morning in the high Alpine Village, there is plenty of snow.

Sweezus is going up in the ski lift, with May, who is now dressed more warmly.

Arthur is tobogganing down a steep and dangerous slope, dotted with spikes, behind Heron.

Colourfully well-wrapped children are tumbling over, and getting up again.

Laughter tinkles through the crisp air.

Terence is being pulled on a tin tray by Gaius, in and out of the pine trees.

Every now and then Terence looks sad.

When Terence looks sad, Gaius says, Shall we go faster?

And Terence answers, Yes please.

And Gaius goes faster.

And the Elegant Parrot flutters overhead, looking vaguely guilty.

It is because of last night in the night club. This is what happened:

Gaius walks up to the bar, holding Terence by the neck and the shorts.

He has seen Arthur, who has just made Heron laugh, with a joke about fish.

Thud. He puts Terence down firmly, as though making a point to Arthur about duty of care.

Squelch! A thin stream of Green Grocer Cicada squirts out from under Terence.

NOOOO!

Gaius (or Terence) has squashed the Green Grocer Cicada, sending him through the Mystery Door a bit early.

Arthur, Heron, Terence and Gaius regard the long smear of exposed insides.

Terence is stricken.

I've KILLED him!

No, says the Elegant Parrot. He's moving. No wait, but yes, he is dead.

He's DEAD and he's MOVING, cries Terence. He's a SPIRIT!

I don't think so, says Arthur.

Maybe? says Terence.

Heron picks up one end of the Green Grocer Cicada.

Does anyone want him? Or shall I....

Well, says the Elegant Parrot, if he's going begging....

And right in front of the eyes of Terence and Gaius and Arthur, Heron feeds the remains of the Green Grocer Cicada to the Elegant Parrot.

But it's only what any ornithologist would do.

So yes, that was dreadful.

Let's not dwell on those events any longer.

Now it is morning.

Slurred And Over-Excited

At first Gaius didn't want to come in.

All that noise, the flashing lights, and the drinking.

He has wheeled his bicycle through the Baw Baw Alpine Village looking for somewhere more suited to his abstemious nature.

But it is three in the morning. All those of abstemious nature are asleep in their alpine chalets and back packer dorms. Doors locked, lights out.

And again, snow is falling.

He wheels his bicycle back to the nightclub, sets down the bicycle, and steps inside.

It is warm, hot even. The music is loud.

He can't see either Arthur or Sweezus.

Perhaps they are among the crowd over there, round that table.

What are they looking at? Why are they laughing?

Ha ha!

A young voice, slurred and over-excited: I used to live in a palace!

A parroty voice: Now we live in a hat.

The young voice: On a bicycle.

The parroty voice: With dinosaur teeth!

The crowd: Ha ha!

Gaius pushes his way through.

Enough of this circus! says Gaius. The infant and parrot are with me.

How come you left them unattended? says a woman.

Yeah? says another. They've been drinking. It's probly illegal.

Probly? says Gaius. I'll give them probly!

What's probly? asks Terence.

Prob-AB-ly. says the Elegant Parrot. It means what's going to happen, but it might not, so it's a maybe.

Yay! I get a maybe! says Terence. Saint Joseph never gave me a maybe. Whack, no questions. That's why I jumped off the palace.

Gaius picks him up by the back of his neck and the shorts.

Where is Arthur?

Over there, says the Elegant Parrot, indicating the bar where Arthur is talking to Heron, the ornithologist.

They are on their second todka.

A sweet mixture of toffee syrup and vodka.

What's that in your pocket? asks Heron. It's sighing.

What? says Arthur. He had forgotten the Green Grocer Cicada in his pocket.

He lifts out the Green Grocer Cicada, and sets him down on the bar.

Hu-uuh..... sighs the Green Grocer Cicada. My life is no longer worth living.

Without the frog? says Arthur.

Without the Honourable Mention, says the Green Grocer Cicada

What frog? asks Heron.

Long story, says Arthur. He's only got a week left.

Then what? asks Heron.

The eternal question, says Arthur. Then what? But, look at him closely.

Heron looks closely at the Green Grocer Cicada.

He's wearing a hat, spun out of........ what is it ?

Dental floss, says Arthur. He made a poem, He said the poem made him feel better. Reconciled him to the Then What. But apparently, he's already forgotten....

I had forgotten, says the Green Grocer Cicada. What was it?

Song of Peach Blossom River, says Arthur. About a secret place where people are immortal, and a fisherman finds it, but when he leaves, he can't find it again.

Why did he leave? asks Heron.

He had other fish to fry, says Arthur.

Heron laughs. He thinks Arthur is funny.

The High Alpine Life

It's a gruelling climb to the Mt Baw Baw Alpine Village.

Not many have done it on bicycles by night in the middle of winter in a snow storm.

Sweezus, Arthur and Gaius are glad when the road flattens out near the top.

Are we there yet? asks Terence.

Not yet.

They pass a few car parks and ski lodges.

Hey! My parrot's not breathing! says Terence.

If I'm not breathing, gasps the Elegant Parrot, it's because I'm wrapped up too tight in this hat.

She's too tight in the hat! shouts Terence. Stop, someone!

But Sweezus has no intention of stopping.

He can see through the snow storm the stone gates of the Baw Baw Alpine Village.

He powers through, with Arthur not far behind.

They stop in front of the only place with lights on, and loud music.

Awesome, says Sweezus. This is more like it.

He and Arthur drop their bikes, and go inside.

Inside it is hot, and people are drinking glüwein and hot rum punches.

Some people are dancing.

Arthur heads to the bar.

Sweezus plonks his back pack on a convenient table.

Terence climbs out.

Help me! says Terence, dragging at something.

I'll help you, babe, says a passing young woman, dressed for summer. What's in there?

A dead parrot, says Sweezus.

Ha ha! I get it! Monty Python! says the young woman. My grandparents were into that.

It's NOT dead, says Terence.

I know! says the young woman. It's an ex-parrot. Wait. No. Is that how it went?

Do you know much about parrots? asks Sweezus.

Let's see, says the young woman. I'm May, by the way.

I'm Sweezus, says Sweezus. I just rode up here.

You're KIDDING! says May. In this SNOWSTORM!

Yep, says Sweezus. It wasn't that bad.

Woah! Totes amazing! says May. You should go in the Tour de France or something.

Actually, says Sweezus, I am.

Let me buy you a todka, says May.

Yes! Sweezus is in.

Too bad for the parrot.

But here comes Arthur, with a hot rum punch that he may not have paid for.

What's up? says Arthur.

No one's helping me, says Terence. My parrot is choking!

I'll help you, says Arthur. He pulls at the edge of the tam o' shanter. But this serves only to choke the parrot more severely.

Ach-uch! cries the Elegant Parrot.

Is that a parrot? asks a passing ornithologist.

You'd think he would know.

Yes, says Arthur. She's in a pickle.

Get her out of the PICKLE! cries Terence, beside himself.

The ornithologist sees what is wrong immediately.

Her head is stuck through the hole in that hat, he says sagely. And when you pull at the edge of the hat, it acts like a noose, which chokes her. Here, little bird, steady on, let me help you.

So gentle, the nice ornithologist.

And not so bad looking.

Having rescued the Elegant Parrot, he leans towards Arthur.

I'm Heron. What are you drinking? Tried a todka?

He and Arthur slope off to the bar.

Terence and the Elegant Parrot are left on the table.

It's a good spot, and Arthur has left his half finished rum punch behind.

Lying In The Dark

A few bubbles rise up to the surface.

I don't suppose you'd care to go down and fetch her up again, says Gaius. Just for a photo.

I don't think she'd come, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

You blew it, says Sweezus.

I did, says the Green Grocer Cicada. I shouldn't have lied.

Lied? says Arthur. You just used the wrong pronoun.

It wasn't that, says the Green Grocer Cicada. I told her I was a Blue Moon Cicada. She believed me.

She's an idiot, says Terence. And you're an idiot too.

You'll understand when you're older, says Sweezus.

It was dark, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

Yeah, says Sweezus. I've been there.

It's snowing again, says Terence. When are we going?

Brrrrrr-ch-ch, says a thin voice, not unlike the voice of the Elegant Parrot.

Everyone turns to look at the Elegant Parrot.

She is lying on her back in the snow, claws pointing upwards

My Parrot! cries Terence. O my Parrot! She's dying!

I'm not dying, wavers the Elegant Parrot, but I am used to the more temperate climate of the Coorong.

We'll head up to the Alpine Resort, says Sweezus. She'll be warm there.

We don't have time for that nonsense, says Gaius.

Yes we do, says Arthur. We have the time we would have spent here, trying to sleep in the snow.

I WAS sleeping in the snow, quite comfortably, grumbles Gaius.

Why does everything conspire against him?

But it seems he must bow to the general consensus.

They get on their bikes.

The Elegant Parrot is tucked into Sweezus's back pack, with Terence.

The Green Grocer Cicada is in Arthur's pocket, even though he is muddy.

The three riders set off along South Face Road, which joins up with the road to Mount Baw Baw.

It's no fun riding through snow in the darkness. The road is slippery and treacherous.

The only sounds are of squeaking through slush.

And snow falling diagonally.

And dinosaur teeth in a box, rattling.

And a Green Grocer Cicada, sighing for what might have been.

Arthur hears the sighs rising out of his pocket.

The road becomes steep.

They reach the intersection, and turn onto the Mount Baw Baw Tourist Road.

The road features one of the toughest climbs accessible by bicycle in Australia. The final climb of 6.2 kilometres rises 718 metres at an average grade of 11.5 per cent, maxing out at 20.3 percent.

Shit, says Sweezus. Maybe this isn't the greatest idea.

I find it quite bracing, says Gaius. And isn't this where they hold the annual Mount Baw Baw Classic? What an excellent preparation for the Tour. Well done, boys.

That's encouraging.

It's good to be led by a Roman.

Losing The Trust Of The Evidence

Where is this mystery door? asks the Baw Baw.

The mystery door is a symbol, says the Blue Moon Cicada. But the way has been muddled.

They push onwards and upwards, through the brown watery liquid.

When we reach the surface, thinks the Blue Moon Cicada, I will be dun-coloured.

When we reach the door, thinks the Baw Baw, I shall see if he truly is turquoise.

So, they both have a different agenda.

Bong! The Blue Moon Cicada hits the door.

It moves, with surprising alacrity.

Aaark! cries Terence.

It's his foot, not the door.

He moves it. Where his foot was is the head of the Green Grocer Cicada.

HERE HE IS! shouts Terence. HE WAS UNDER MY FOOT ALL THE TIME!

Give him air! says Gaius.

The Green Grocer Cicada drags his dun coloured body out of the mud-suck.

Swurp!

A head with a large parotid gland running from eye to shoulder rises slowly behind him.

Can it truly be? cries Gaius. A Baw Baw?

I'm not staying, says the Baw Baw. Just saying goodbye.

Do come out just for a moment, my sweeting, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

He judges it not too risky. It's snowing. The mud won't wash off.

She is seduced by his augmented poetical endearment, my sweeting.

What a pity it's snowing. If it was raining his mud would wash off. She would see his beautiful body, all turquoise. A thing to remember.

Most excellent! says Gaius. Someone find me a box, for the Baw Baw.

Terence has a box, says Arthur.

Terence looks daggers.

It's got dinosaur teeth in! says Terence.

No need to upset yourself, says the Baw Baw. I'm not going anywhere.

WE are, says Terence. We decided. We were just packing up.

Oh? says the Green Grocer Cicada.

Yes, says Gaius. It is fortunate timing. We thought we had lost you.

I was doing my job, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

Job? I thought you were a wanderer, says the Baw Baw. I thought you were a travelling poet, in a poetry hat.

A chap can be both, says the Green Grocer Cicada, lamely.

May I ask, says Gaius, addressing the Baw Baw, why you wish to remain here?

As I slept I dreamed I heard the call of a male Baw Baw, says the Baw Baw. We are a critically endangered community of only two hundred and forty eight. I'm sure you will understand that I can't just up sticks and go off gallivanting with a turquoise cicada in a poetry hat, tempting as it might be...

When you put it like that, says Gaius, I feel ashamed of my crassness.

Take a photo, says Sweezus. That'll prove that you found one.

That I found one, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

A fine idea, says Gaius. The three of us in our Kathmandu jackets, finding a Baw Baw.

And me, says Terence. I actually found it.

I found it, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

It!  He found IT?

So much for my sweeting.

She no longer cares what shade of turquoise lurks under his mud crust.

She sinks rapidly under the mud, before anyone can take a photo.

The Mystery Door

Hello.

The Green Grocer Cicada can barely see her.

Hello, is it time....?

Not for me yet, says the Green Grocer Cicada. I have two weeks.

Then what? asks the Baw Baw frog, sleepily.

I may never go back, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

You can stay here with me, yawns the Baw Baw. In the spring, I do mating.

With your own kind, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

Preferably, of course, says the Baw Baw. But we are endangered. What are you?

The Green Grocer Cicada is about to say: I am a Green Grocer Cicada.

But hey. It's dark. She won't know any better.

I'm a Blue Moon Cicada, he says. We are the rare ones. I am turquoise.

You may as well be whatever, says the Baw Baw. It's so dark here. But turquoise is pretty. Will you mate?

With you? says the Blue Moon Cicada. It depends how you do it.

I lay between fifty and a hundred and eighty eggs, says the Baw Baw. In a sphagnum moss nest. It's so comfy.

What do I do? asks the Blue Moon Cicada.

He is feeling excited.

You watch me, says the Baw Baw. I use my feet to beat the eggs into a foamy mass, then you fertilise them externally.

That might be difficult, says the Blue Moon Cicada.

Yes, sighs the Baw Baw. I thought so.

The Blue Moon Cicada gives up the idea of mating. He remembers his task, and his Honourable Mention.

Do you see me at all? asks the Blue Moon Cicada.

I see you vaguely, says the Baw Baw. You seem to be wearing a hat.

I am. It's a poetry hat, says the Blue Moon Cicada. I am a wanderer who has found you by chance. If I leave I may never find you again. Will you come with me?

No, says the Baw Baw. It's cold out.

Just to the door, my sweet? wheedles the Blue Moon Cicada.

(My sweet! Catch a male Baw Baw saying anything half so romantic!).

Okay, just to the door, says the Baw Baw. Make me a poem, as we go.

The Blue Moon Cicada emits a high pitched buzzing sound. He is spinning a poem.

Walk with me sweet one
to a sphagnum moss bed
make a foam omelette
in which I will tread
nor you nor I
deserve to be dead
the mystery door
lies ahead

But no mystery door lies ahead.

Terence has muddled it.

I Dreamed He Never Came Back

Midnight. The temperature drops. Rain has stopped falling.

But still it drips from the trees.

It drips down the back of the neck of Arthur Rimbaud.

It drips down the back of the neck of Sweezus.

They huddle closer together.

Terence wriggles his way in between.

Guess what! says Terence

This sucks, says Sweezus.

No, says Terence. This is the best fun in ages. But guess what? It's snowing.

Sweezus sticks his hand out.

Yes, it is snowing.

That does it! says Sweezus. Get up, Arthur.

Arthur gets up, and goes to prod Gaius, asleep in his Kathmandu jacket.

Aaaark kruk kruk kruk! says Gaius, still deep in oblivion.

Wah! Where is it? says Gaius, after he has been prodded.

He means the frog, whispers Terence. He's been dreaming. I was dreaming too. I dreamed the cicada went digging and NEVER CAME BACK.

Impossible, says the Elegant Parrot. You can't dream someone never came back.

Sweezus thinks about that for a minute.

Yeah, you'd be dreaming for ever, says Sweezus.

I WAS, says Terence. Oh help! Ow! A drop toilet!

There is a deep narrow hole in the ground. Terence has stepped in it.

Yuck! He steps out quickly.

Mud oozes into the space where his foot was, leaving a muddle.

Several feet below, the Green Grocer Cicada has not noticed his hole has closed over.

He is burrowing down.

Before him, glowing like an icon, floats his Honourable Mention, with its red wax seal and tantalising tassel.

Drip.

He is burrowing down.

The earth is friable, and threaded with tiny white filaments.

He senses a break through.

Suddenly, an opening. A dark figure lies sleeping.

Dark brown with light patches, her skin has bumps and ridges, including a large parotid gland running from her eye to her shoulder.

He taps her. She wakens.

Hello.

Mondays Soldiers And Moons

In Baw Baw National Park, it is now even darker.

Rain falls on the snow gums.

The sphagnum moss bogs become even more boggy.

Gaius has found a clearing.

Here will do, says Gaius. This is our campsite.

Great, says Sweezus.

No it ISN'T, says Terence.

Oh yes, says the Elegant Parrot. No amenities. That's natural. Let me tell you a story.

What story? asks Terence.

Once there was a little boy, says the Elegant Parrot, and he fell down a drop toilet.

YUCK! says Terence. What's a drop toilet?

Just a hole, says Sweezus.

With poo in the bottom, says the Elegant Parrot.

Ha ha, laughs Terence. Poo in the bottom!

What's the parrot saying? asks Gaius.

She's telling Terence a story, says Arthur. He doesn't like our camp site. She's cheering him up.

Nonsense, says Gaius. There's nothing wrong with our camp site a toilet won't fix. Did you bring a spade?

No, says Arthur. But the point of the story was that we don't need a toilet, because a little boy might fall down it.

Oh I see, says Gaius. But a spade would have been handy.

The rain is getting heavier. It splatters off ferns and trickles down granite rocks in wide runnels.

Oh woe, says the Green Grocer Cicada. I should have stayed in the Melbourne Museum.

No! This is where you come into your own, says the Elegant Parrot.

Is it? says the Green Grocer Cicada.

Soft ground, says the Elegant Parrot. You should probably start digging. And we should probably start listening.

To me? says the Green Grocer Cicada.

If you like, says the Elegant Parrot. But I meant, for frog noises.

I want to listen to YOU, says Terence.

All right, says the Green Grocer Cicada. I have a story. It's about my hero, Walter William Froggett.

Are there frogs in it? asks Terence.

Cicadas, says the Green Grocer Cicada. Walter William Froggatt was an entomologist. He was the man who identified the different types of Green Grocer Cicada.

No kidding? says Sweezus. Aren't you the only type?

Only one type, says the Green Grocer Cicada. Walter William Froggatt identified others. I'm a Green Monday, but there are also Yellow Mondays, Chocolate Soldiers and Blue Moons. The Blue Moons are the rarest. I sometime wish I was one. They are turquoise.

So... but.... says Terence.

I know what you're thinking, says the Elegant Parrot. How can they be Green Grocer Cicadas, if they're not green? Is that what you're thinking?

No, says Terence.

I was, says Sweezus.

So was I, says Arthur.

Good, says the Elegant Parrot. Well done, Green Grocer Cicada.

Is it morning yet? asks Terence, looking up through the black dripping branches.

Not yet, says Sweezus. Might as well try and get comfortable.

Better get digging, says the Elegant Parrot.

Listening first, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

They listen for frog noises.

What do Baw Baw frogs sound like? asks Arthur.

Aaaark kruk kruk kruk! says Gaius.

.......

Deep under the earth, below them, a Baw Baw frog dreams she hears a Baw Baw frog, calling.

Aaaark kruk kruk kruk!

But it's winter, and she is inactive.

She stays where she is.

Break Through Frost And Crack Icicles

Night falls as they ride into Moe.

We stopping? asks Sweezus.

We push on, says Gaius.

They ride past a pub. The delicious smell of three roast meats and veggies reaches their noses, as someone opens a door.

Perhaps a quick dinner stop, says Gaius.

They stop at the Moe Bottle-O Pub.

Half an hour later, they are pressing on towards Rawson.

Not everyone is happy.

There has been some debate about the direction to take after Rawson.

Let's VOTE! says Terence.

No, says Gaius. We will not take a vote. We head for the plateau proper. That means the Baw Baw National Park, not the Alpine Resort. No need to imagine what that's like!

Funner, says Terence.

More fun, says Sweezus.

See! says Terence. He agrees. Why aren't we going?

Apart from the expense and price markups, says Gaius, our quest is to find endangered frogs. We will hardly find them in an Alpine Resort full of skiiers and tobogganers.

True, says the Elegant Parrot. They will be hiding in dark moist places. They will be difficult to find. We must poke and prod. We must break through frost. We must crack icicles.....

Woohoo, says Terence. I'm doing THAT!

It's what I'm here for, says the Green Grocer Cicada. That and my Honourable Mention.

Certainly, says Gaius. I'm glad everyone has come to their senses.

Sweezus and Arthur exchange glances.

How about we just head to the resort for the night, says Sweezus. It's freezing already.

No, says Gaius. We'll camp out in the National Park, for an early start in the morning. Don't forget, time is of the essence.

Especially for me, says the Green Grocer Cicada. Although, I feel better about my existential dilemma after finishing my poem. I now see......

Me too, says Terence. I now see that dinosaur teeth have a good side and a bad side.

The pointy side being the bad side? says Sweezus.

YES! says Terence. You're RIGHT! But I didn't actually mean that. I meant....

But we are not to find out at this point what Terence meant, nor what the cicada believes to have lessened his existential dilemma.

We have reached Rawson, and a signpost.

North to Baw Baw National Park (some roads closed for winter, limited camping, no facilities).

North west to Mount Baw Baw Alpine Resort (accommodation, restaurants, downhill skiiing, snowboarding, tobogganing, ski lifts etc).

We head north, says Gaius.

And so we head north into the deep icy blackness, our bike lights dancing over low ferns and tall trees of mixed rainforest habitat lining the road......

Spinning A Poetry Hat

The air has turned chilly.

They leave Bunyip behind.

A high pitched buzzing sound comes from Arthur's pocket.

What's that noise? asks Sweezus.

The cicada, says Arthur. He's coming up with a poem.

Cool, says Sweezus. Has it got a title?

A Song Of Peach Blossom River, says Arthur.

Inside Sweezus's back pack, Terence is listening.

I'm coming up with a poem, says Terence.

Yeah? says Sweezus. What's yours called?

A Song Of Dinosaur Teeth Rolling, says Terence, inventing quickly.

Got far? asks Sweezus.

Everywhere, says Terence. I wish Gaius didn't make me break the lid of my box. Now I'm standing on teeth.

What's this? asks Gaius.

Terence is making a poem, says Sweezus. It's about standing on teeth.

Very commendable, says Gaius. May we hear it?

It might not be finished, says Sweezus.

It IS finished! says Terence. It goes:

A SONG OF DINOSAUR TEETH ROLLING
Burrowee burrowoo
If you were me
Standing on teeth
You'd roll too
Burrowee burrowoo

That's not bad, says Arthur.

Yeah, for an improv, says Sweezus.

Burrowee, burrowoo? says Gaius.

The high pitched buzzing gets louder.

He's done, says the Elegant Parrot.  Get him out.

Arthur pulls the cicada out of his pocket.

Thank you, says the Green Grocer Cicada. I've been spinning a poetry hat.

And he has. The Green Grocer Cicada is wearing a poetry hat, spun from dental floss.

The hat was at Arthur's suggestion.

I have finished my poem, A Song of Peach Blossom River, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

It is about a poor fisherman who discovers a hidden world in a cave at the end of a river
The people there speak an ancient language and wear simple clothes
They left the world behind long ago and came seeking refuge
They have lived like angels ever since, blessedly far away
No one in the cave knowing anything outside
Outsiders viewing only empty mountains and thick clouds......
The fisherman stays for a while, then leaves, intending to return
But he can never again find the hidden source at the end of the blue stream.

Whose is best? asks Terence.

Yours, says the Elegant Parrot. Yours rhymes.

But you made up fake words, says Sweezus. The cicada's is kind of..... prophetic.

It IS  pathetic. says Terence. But I suppose he tried hard.

The air becomes even more chilly, as they cycle through Drouin.

They stop to put on their Kathmandu jackets in Warragul.

Terence snuggles down under his tam o'shanter on the rolling teeth that won him Best Poet.

Power And Go

Bunyip has two pubs. One at the top end (Top Pub) and one at the bottom end (Bottom).

Gaius is in Bottom Pub, waiting for Arthur to come back with the floss and a pencil.

With him are Terence, the Elegant Parrot and the Green Grocer Cicada.

Green Grocer Cicada: Now, for some answers.

Terence: And some seeds!

Elegant Parrot: Yes. The seeds first. I'm starving.

Gaius: Wait till Arthur comes back.

Green Grocer Cicada: Seeds won't help me.

Terence: Aren't you starving too?

Green Grocer Cicada: No. I need sorting out.

Terence: Gaius is doing it.

Gaius: What's this? What am I doing?

Elegant Parrot: No, he evidently isn't. What's the trouble, grasshopper?

Green Grocer Cicada: I keep thinking.

Terence: Me too.

Green Grocer Cicada: But I'm thinking about an important life question.

Elegant Parrot: Don't tell me. Let me guess. Is it "then what"?

Green Grocer Cicada: It is. Am I wasting my time?

Terence: Yes! Let's go and ask for some seeds!

There are a couple of backpackers at the next table eating wedges with sauce and sour cream.

They have been listening.

I've got some seeds, in my back pack, says one of the back packers. Do you want some for your parrot?

Yes, please, says Terence. Is that sauce?

Yep, says the second back packer. Want one of our wedges?

Yay! says Terence. A wedge dipped in red sauce!

The first back packer opens her back pack and takes out a sealed plastic container.

It's Power and Go, she says.  Here, take a handful.

Terence takes a handful, in one hand. The other hand is holding the wedge dipped in sauce.

Wow, says the second back packer. You've got a claw instead of a finger.

I know, says Terence. My blood brother has my finger. I have his claw.

This is the first the Elegant Parrot has heard of Terence's blood brother.

A less high minded parrot would be jealous.

Instead she accepts it, and the Power and Go seeds.

Merci! Nibble nibble.

But the Green Grocer Cicada is not sorted. He is still thinking, two weeks, THEN WHAT?

Arthur enters Bottom Pub, followed by Sweezus.

Got you some floss, says Arthur, pulling the short length out of his pocket and handing it to Gaius.

Thank you, says Gaius. It's shorter than I expected.

None the less, Gaius easily flosses the chunk of lead pencil out from between his front teeth.

And a pen, says Arthur. They didn't have a pencil.

Hmm, Gaius looks dubious. Health Partners. A pen. Not a pencil.

He always has pencils.

Still, they are in a hurry. Time to leave, if they want to make Moe by nightfall.

Sorted the cicada? asks Sweezus.

Not exactly, says Gaius. He's got the miseries.

I'll sort him, says Arthur. You take the parrot.

Gaius is happy with that, now his teeth have stopped hurting.

He drops the floss on the table. Shoulders the parrot.

Arthur picks up the floss.

Painful Extractions

Bunyip. Population 2,232 (at last count). Named after a mythical creature.

Are we there yet? asks Terence.

Yes, says Sweezus. This is Bunyip.

Is there a chemist? asks Gaius.

Sweezus googles Bunyip. Yes, there is a chemist.

Arthur, find the chemist, and buy me some dental floss, says Gaius.

Arthur goes off down the road.

He passes a post office, hairdresser, several fast food shops, a grocery, a bakery, two banks that don't look open, and a lawn mower outlet.

He goes into the lawn mower outlet.

Is there a chemist? asks Arthur.

Ralph the lawn mower man has spent his life in the buzz-roar of lawn mowers, and is now rather deaf.

Is it a dentist you want? says Ralph. We have a dentist. But it was not always so.

I suppose not, says Arthur. But I want a chemist.

Yes, I hear you, says Ralph. And you can have one. But back in the day, when there was no dentist in Bunyip, the local station master used to oblige by extracting teeth with his ticket clippers!

He waits to see Arthur's reaction.

Arthur looks at him as one might look at a monkey.

Young people these days, thinks Ralph. They don't know. Life is hard in the country. And why does he need a dentist? His teeth look fine to me.

Arthur wanders off to look for a chemist.

Sweezus catches up with him.

Gaius wants a pencil, says Sweezus. His last one busted off in his teeth.

Okay, says Arthur. Dental floss, pencil. Is that it?

Yep, says Sweezus. Hey, this looks like a chemist.

It is. They go in. Arthur goes up to the counter.

Got any pencils? asks Arthur.

This is a pharmacy, says the chemist. You need the newsagent.

What about dental floss? says Arthur.

There I can help you, says the chemist. She goes off to the Dental Care shelf.

Comes back with a 200 metre Oral B pack.

How does it work? asks Arthur.

Well, you ......are you going to buy it?

Yes, says Arthur.

She opens the pack. Pulls out a length of waxed floss, hooks it over the small metal hook thing. Ping! Breaks it off. Gives the short length to Arthur.

Thanks, says Arthur, shoving the short length in his pocket. How much is it?

Ten dollars fifty, says the chemist. ( Wooh! big mark-up for the country).

Damn, says Arthur. I'll have to go back to the boss, to get some more money. How much again?

I'll write it down for you, says the chemist, taking a post-it pad from the drawer, along with a Health Partners biro.

Here, let me, says Arthur. My boss can't see all that well. He needs really big writing.

Does he need reading glasses? asks the chemist. We have some good quality ones.....

Show me, says Arthur.

Off she goes, what a bunny!

Arthur walks out of the pharmacy, before she gets back.

Where did your friend go? she asks Sweezus.

Oh, er, I'll just go and see..... mumbles Sweezus.

He too leaves the pharmacy.

The chemist looks about for her pen.

There Needs To Be Harmony

Afternoon. Gaius, Sweezus and Arthur leave the Melbourne Museum on their bikes and head for St Kilda.

Terence is in Sweezus's back pack. The top is open.

If Terence stands on the cardboard Museum Box, he can see all the palaces.

The Elegant Parrot is perched on Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur hates this, but Gaius has insisted.

Gaius is having tooth trouble. A piece of pencil broke off when he used it as a toothpick in the Museum Cafe. Now it is wedged where the raspberry seed used to be.

In the cardboard Museum box, the Green Grocer Cicada is having second thoughts already:

What is the essential difference, he wonders, between this and his seven years underground? Seven years that he doesn't remember. An existential weight bears down upon him. (It's largely Terence). He knocks on the lid of his box.

The riders ride through St Kilda, towards Dandenong.

Squawk! says the Elegant Parrot, in Arthur's ear.

What is it? asks Arthur.

One raspberry seed doesn't go very far, says the Elegant Parrot.

Didn't you eat it? says Arthur.

I ate it, says the Elegant Parrot. And I see where your thinking is going. But I wasn't referring to distance.

So you're still hungry, says Arthur.

My Parrot is hungry, says Terence, to Sweezus.

It's a bird, says Sweezus. Tell it to fly off and find something.

NO! says Terence. We might lose my Parrot. We have to stop in a minute.

When are we stopping? asks Sweezus.

We're not stopping, says Gaius. Not till we get to the plateau.

By now they are passing through Narre Warren.

But not stopping.

Thud, thud. Knock, knock.

Terence, says Sweezus. Can you STOP that!

It's my cicada, says Terence. It's knocking my feet all the time.

Are you standing on it? asks Gaius. I suggest you get off, before the lid breaks.

Terence stamps harder.

The lid breaks.

Ha ha! cries Terence. You were RIGHT!

The Green Grocer Cicada emerges.

Takes a deep breath. A-heuuuh!

And announces: I don't wish to continue.

Gaius, Sweezus and Arthur slow their rhythm.

Terence says loudly: SEE!

No one sees, says the Green Grocer Cicada. But if this is being out I might as well be in, that's all I'm saying.

Do you want your lid fixed? asks Terence.

NO! cries the Green Grocer Cicada. I want to be accorded some dignity.

This is rich. He is the only one who was accorded a box. But you can't please some creatures.

Gaius thinks quickly. There needs to be harmony in any society. Not just between the elites but the plebeians as well. He decides to sacrifice a modicum of time in the interests of harmony.

Right! says Gaius. We'll make a short stop in Bunyip!

Yippee! cries Terence.

Seeds! cries the Parrot.

What do I get? asks the Green Grocer Cicada.

Sorted out properly, says Gaius.

He really doesn't know yet.

But it will be good to stop in Bunyip.

He hopes there is a chemist in Bunyip. If there is, he will send Arthur in to buy dental floss.

An Honourable Mention

Half an hour later, (it seems longer), Grizel and Katherine are in the Museum café.

They have ordered a plate of raspberry and blueberry friands.

Enter Sweezus and Arthur, looking for Gaius.

Sweezus and Arthur, having tried several Italian pastries on Lygon Street, are not averse to more cakes, if someone else is paying.

They look nice, says Sweezus. Friands?

They're for Gaius. He'll be here in a minute, says Katherine. He took Terence to see Bugs Alive.

Terence clatters into the café, carrying a cardboard Melbourne Museum box, followed by the Parrot.

Terence runs up to Sweezus.

Got a bug in there? asks Sweezus.

No, but guess what? says Terence. It's a cicada.

The Green Grocer Cicada does not wish to make a bad first impression. He rises and says:

These teeth are not my teeth.

That's right, says Terence. They're MINE. And he's a Green Grocer. And he's in a competition, and he's getting a tassel.

All I ask is an Honourable Mention, and to do some good in the world, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

That's awesome, says Sweezus. What good will you be doing?

Specifically, finding frogs under the snow, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

Yes, says the Elegant Parrot. Doomed frogs. And he only has one week to do it.

Two weeks, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

Button my beak, says the Elegant Parrot. I suppose I know nothing.

Gaius appears at the table.

Ah, there you are lads, says Gaius. I see you've met our Green Grocer Cicada.

It's lost all its teeth, says Katherine. .

It has no need of teeth, says Gaius.  These cicadas live underground for seven years, and only emerge for two weeks.

Then what? asks Grizel. And Gaius, do help yourself to a friand.

Where? asks Gaius.

The friand plate is empty.

I'll order some more, says Grizel, glaring at Arthur and Sweezus.

Then what? asks Arthur.

The Green Grocer Cicada looks up at the ceiling. He doesn't know what.

But it will be quite long enough, says Gaius. One week will suffice for the frog hunt. Do you boys realise we must all be in France by July the second?

Yep, says Sweezus. No worries. And guess what we heard? We were talking to these guys and they reckon there's a full on Alpine Resort up at Mount Baw Baw. And it's been snowing.

The second plate of friands arrives.

Sweezus takes one. He imagines himself skiing.

Arthur takes one. He visualises himself on a super fast toboggan.

Gaius takes a third one. Eats it. Alpine Resort! Piffle! He won't be going anywhere near it.

The ladies finish their coffee.

Terence closes his box, with the dinosaur teeth and Green Grocer Cicada inside it.

The Elegant Parrot pecks at a raspberry seed which Gaius has left on the plate after picking it carefully out from between his teeth with a pencil.

Persuasion

How much of your two weeks of life have you left? asks Gaius.

Fiddle-de-twee!  says the Green Grocer Cicada.

I understand that you might not want to talk about it, says Gaius, but I have a reason for asking.

What is a reason? asks the Green Grocer Cicada.

Gaius pauses. Thinks about how to frame his answer. Perhaps he should ask Patrick Honan first.

Patrick Honan meanwhile has just pocketed a key.

And the Elegant Parrot has disappeared behind a curtain.

The question is, are the two things related?

Gaius approaches Patrick Honan.

I wonder, says Gaius, if I might borrow your Green Grocer Cicada.

What for? asks Patrick Honan.

The Baw Baw expedition, says Gaius. Since the Green Grocer Cicada is used to living underground for long periods it might be helpful in locating a Baw Baw. I have come to realise I need more help than my companions might be able to give me.

Certainly, says Patrick Honan. If the Green Grocer Cicada can be persuaded to go. Life is quite comfortable for the bugs in our Bugs Alive Exhibition.

How long does it have? whispers Gaius.

Only a week, whispers Patrick Honan.

Good, says Gaius. That's all I need. Now, to ask it.....

The Elegant Parrot flings back the curtain.

Allow me to ask it!

There you are, Parrot! cries Terence. I though you were MISSING. I thought the manager had locked you in with the poisonous bugs and spiders.

I wouldn't do that, says Patrick Honan.

But you put a key in your pocket, says Terence. I saw you.

My house key, says Patrick Honan.

Ha! This is no novel!

Go on, says Gaius, to the Elegant Parrot.

The Elegant Parrot addresses the Green Grocer Cicada:

Green Grocer Cicada, should you agree to accompany us to the Baw Baw Plateau, sacrificing your few weeks of freedom...

TWO weeks! says the Green Grocer Cicada.

Why two weeks? asks Terence.

That's all he's got, says the Elegant Parrot. Now shut up, I'm in full flight here.......

What do I get out of it? asks the Green Grocer Cicada.

An Honourable Mention, says the Elegant Parrot. Framed in gold, with green curlicues, a red wax seal and a tassel...... you can frame it, and you can hang it up by the tassel.

Would that work? asks Gaius. Hanging something up by a tassel? Is it a looped tassel? What is its purpose.....?

He suddenly realises he is arguing himself out of a priceless companion.

No, says Gaius, I withdraw all my questions, I see it now......

Everyone looks at the Green Grocer Cicada, expecting an answer.

Agreed, says the Green Grocer Cicada.

What tipped you? asks the Elegant Parrot.

You had me at the curlicues, says the Green Grocer Cicada. And you nailed it by the tassel.

Different Rules For Our Species

Come with me, says Patrick Honan.

Where to? asks the Elegant Parrot.

Live Exhibits, says Patrick Honan. I have been observing you over the last fifteen minutes, and I think we can safely say you are not a Top Design, but a live Elegant Parrot.

Live Exhibits! says Terence. Woo-ee! Any dinosaurs?

No, of course not, says Patrick Honan. But we have a great collection of bugs.

Let's go, says Terence.

I can't take you, says Patrick. That would be an abduction.

Listen to yourself, says the Elegant Parrot. Why is taking me not an abduction?

Because........begins Patrick Honan.

He is about to say something that the Elegant Parrot might find hurtful. ( "There are different rules for our species" ).

But he is interrupted by Gaius who has come over to see what's going on.

What's going on? enquires Gaius. Is the Parrot proselytising again?

I was, says the Elegant Parrot. I had just gained three converts to the Green Grocer Cicada.

Excellent, says Patrick Honan. Are you keen on cicadas? We have a few in our collection. We also have a tarantula, some native cockroaches, and a Pobblebonk,

You don't by any chance have a Baw Baw? asks Gaius.

Sorry no, says Patrick Honan. They only live in extreme cold conditions. And at the moment they would all be inactive, so not of much interest.

That is a pity, says Gaius. I am off to the Baw Baw Plateau this afternoon in search of them. I fear I may have left it too late.

Yes, they are critically endangered, says Patrick Honan. But do come and look at our Bugs Alive Exhibition. And this boy, is he with you?

He could be, says Gaius. Yes he is, I suppose.

Will this be good enough for Patrick Honan?

No, not really. He sees Katherine and Grizel, talking to Sir Frederick. They were the ladies that were in charge of the boy when he first saw them.

He walks over to ask.

Katherine doesn't love bugs, and is only too glad to get rid of Terence.

Fine. Tell Gaius and Terence and the Parrot we'll meet them in the cafe, in half an hour, says Katherine.

Not the Parrot, thinks the manager of Live Exhibits.

Here they are now in Live Exhibits. A Green Grocer Cicada sings merrily. Tweeeeee!

He thinks it is summer.

Gaius is interested in the Green Grocer Cicada.

Will it speak? What might it tell him?

Terence is looking at the Pobblebonk.

Euw! It's got WARTS.

The Parrot has disappeared behind a curtain.

Patrick Honan is pocketing a key.

( Who ever thought that would happen? Not the Parrot ).

Gaius has found out something interesting.

The cicada does talk, although not as loud as it twees.

Apparently, normally, the juvenile Green Grocer Cicada lives underground for seven years, only to emerge for just two weeks.

I know! It hardly seems worth it.

Life's Reversals

Sir Frederick recognises Grizel.

Lady Baillie! says Sir Frederick. How do you like our exhibition? Talented young people we have here in Melbourne, eh?

Very nice, says Grizel. Katherine and I have been admiring this bread wrapper.

And this bread, says Katherine.

I don't think the bread's part of it, says Sir Frederick. But I could be mistaken.

This is my friend Katherine Hume, mother of the less famous David, says Lady Baillie.

Ha ha! laughs Sir Frederick. Less famous! I'm sure she's proud of her son.

Not particularly, says Katherine. I fear he's not ready for France.

The Tour de France? asks Sir Frederick, aware of David Hume's later accomplishments.

Jumping Jupiter! The Tour! splutters Gaius. When is it?

July something, says Katherine, looking vague.

Bored, Terence has wandered off to look at a model.

The Elegant Parrot has naturally followed.

Several Year 11s are looking at the model, an industrial stool.

I'm FREAKING! says one of the students. That's HOURS of work! I might as well just DROP OUT right now.

Would you like a dinosaur tooth? asks Terence. Put it under your pillow and....

Stop right there! says the Elegant Parrot. That story is for CHILDREN.

What story? asks the Year 11 ( let's call her Milly, on the understanding that she is NOT the one who designed the eponymous bread wrapper, who would of course be a Year 12).

Never mind that story, says the Elegant Parrot. That story is about growing a beak. You don't need a beak do you?

No, says Milly.

Nor do her friends, Amir and Sal.

They anticipate a more adult kind of story.

This dinosaur tooth, says the Elegant Parrot, is a talisman. Whoever possesses it, will have one extra tooth.

Which makes you SMARTER, says Terence. (He feels that the story is lacking in motivation).

I wouldn't go that far, says the Elegant Parrot. It didn't make the dinosaur smarter.

Amir waits for the dénouement. So do Milly and Sal.

Now that I have your attention, says the Elegant Parrot, let me say a few words on behalf of the Green Grocer Cicada.

I'm not voting for the Green Grocer Cicada, says Milly. I'm voting for the Pobblebonk. It's got such a cute name.

I'm voting for the White Skink, says Sal.

Amir is thinking of voting for the Native Water Rat.

But do you know, says the Elegant Parrot, that the Green Grocer Cicada is the school students' friend?
On the days when their populations arrive at a certain density, the Green Grocer Cicadas make so much noise that schools have to close down entirely. Just saying.

Having sown the seed of self-interest in the three Year 11s,  the Elegant Parrot turns to look for another group to rally.

But instead, finds herself face to face with the manager of Live Exhibits.

Other Worlds Brief Glimpses

What a shemozzle! How did it happen that only Gaius was where we expected?

Why was he left in charge of the parrot?

Why was Terence without supervision in the Dinosaur Gallery?

Where are Arthur and Sweezus?

And will that nice little girl wake up with a beak tomorrow?

Let me answer question four first.

Arthur and Sweezus had been crossing Lygon Street on the way to the Museum.

And got distracted.

As for the beak, who knows? Strange things happen.

She may think she has a beak. She may ask for birdseed for breakfast.

Her daddy (let us suppose it is her daddy who produces her breakfast) may go along with it.

Or not. How should we know? We can't follow everyone.

He might try her with chia, or quinoa.

To return to the rest of the questions:

Gaius, the ladies, Terence and the Elegant Parrot had arrived at the Dinosaur Gallery. Terence had run in at once, and joined a group of children. The Elegant Parrot was prevented from entering by Patrick Honan, manager of Live Exhibits.

Come with me! Patrick Honan had beamed. He was excited to see a live Elegant Parrot ( so-named by John Gould) from the Coorong.

Immediately, he knew it.

The ladies had hesitated. They knew it was not worth crossing Terence by giving up the Parrot.

Regretfully, (said Katherine), this parrot is destined for Top Designs. Not Live Exhibits.

No way! Patrick Honan had cried. It looks so realistic!

To its credit, the Elegant Parrot was doing an excellent job of looking realistic.

Leaving Patrick Honan scratching his head, Gaius and the ladies, with the Elegant Parrot, had proceeded to the Top Designs Gallery.

It occurred at that moment to both of the ladies that they did not wish to traipse around the exhibition bearing a Parrot.

Would you mind very much taking charge of the Parrot? Grizel had wheedled.

We won't be long, Katherine had added.

Very well, said Gaius, who we already know had been in a good mood this morning, in spite of losing Sweezus and Arthur on the way to the Melbourne Museum.

Thank you, Gaius, said Katherine. We owe you a coffee.

And perhaps a wee cake, said Grizel. Later. At the Museum Café.

And with that they had disappeared into the Top Design Gallery.

After which followed all that we know.

But where does that leave us? Only right here, at the present moment, in which:

Sir Frederick, Gaius, the Elegant Parrot and an unrepentant Terence, with dinosaur teeth in his pocket, are entering the Top Design Exhibition to look for the ladies, in order to resolve one or two unresolved questions.

They spot the two ladies, looking at a folio, beside which is a loaf of crisp bread wrapped in colourful paper labelled Milly's Bread Packaging.

The folio explains the procedure of inventing and designing and surmounting various difficulties to finally produce the colourful wrapping paper in which the bread is now hardening.

Well done, Year 12 student artificer!

Science, Desire, Truth And Consequence

Sir Frederick has not given up hope of Gaius endorsing the Pobblebonk.

He invites him and the Elegant Parrot to take a tour of the Melbourne Museum.

They arrive at the Science and Life Gallery.

And go in.

Naturally it is free for Sir Frederick. Not fourteen dollars.

Sir Frederick, Gaius and the Elegant Parrot join a group of children who are feeling a sauropod thigh bone.

Enjoying yourselves? asks the Elegant Parrot.

Yes, chorus the children.

So would I have, says the Elegant Parrot.

Terence looks up from the sauropod thigh bone.

Look, dinosaur teeth! says Terence.

He takes a handful of dinosaur teeth from his gecko shorts pocket.

Now, children, says Sir Frederick. This boy has done something DREADFUL. Who knows what it is?

Stolen some dinosaur teeth, says a little girl.

That is correct, says Sir Frederick. And what happens to thieves?

They make friends, says Terence.

This is Terence, says Gaius. I know him. He is supposed to be here with a lady.

You know him? says Sir Frederick, somewhat taken aback. Where is the lady?

Where is Katherine? asks Gaius.

Looking at Top Signs with Grizel, says Terence.

Top Signs? says Gaius.

That's ANOTHER Gallery they wouldn't let me into, says the Elegant Parrot. Top Designs. They probably thought I would....

Steal them? asks Sir Frederick, twitching his Dundreary whiskers.

Crap on them, says the Elegant Parrot.

Hee hee, laugh the children.

They're just teeth, says Terence.

Just teeth, says the little girl, smiling at Terence.

Just teeth, says the Elegant Parrot. If you put them under your pillow you might grow a beak. Not me, I wouldn't. I've already got one. But you children might.

Come, says Sir Frederick. Enough of this fantasy. Let us go to the Top Designs Gallery and find the ladies.

This situation needs ladies.

He strides ahead to the door of the gallery, ignoring the fate of the teeth.

Before leaving, Terence gives the biggest of the dinosaur teeth to the nice little girl who dobbed him in, and later smiled, and was pretty.

She accepts it.

Next morning, she might have a beak.

This Place Is A Death Trap

Ten o'clock at the Melbourne Museum. Opening time.

Sir Frederick McCoy sits in his grand office, waiting for his visitor, Gaius Plinius Secundus.

The famous Prodromus lies open on his desk, revealing a delicate and highly detailed drawing of a Pobblebonk.

He is hoping to get Gaius on side with a new project.

Knock knock.

Sir Frederick stands up. Opens the door of his office.

The two famous men regard one another.

Sir Frederick, natty dresser, reddish Dundreary whiskers, peppery when thwarted.

And Gaius, porridge stains on his shirt, smelling faintly of sardines, a parrot on his shoulder, in a good temper this morning.

Hello! says the Elegant Parrot, before either famous man can speak. Forgive me for being here, but I was not allowed into the Dinosaur Walk, for some unexplained reason. I can only think....

I can only think, says Sir Frederick, that whoever it was thought you ought to be in Live Exhibits.

Instead, she is here, says Gaius. But no matter. She has little interest in dinosaurs.

Being a female, says the Elegant Parrot. We like feathers and whatnot.

Ho ho, says Sir Frederick. Better not let my younger staff members hear that.

Now, says Gaius, time is pressing. I see you have the Prodromus. May I ask if you have a detailed drawing of the critically endangered Baw Baw?

Probably, says Sir Frederick dismissively. But do, rather, take a look at the Pobblebonk.

Gaius peers at the fine drawing of the Pobblebonk.

It is warty, and looks like a cane toad.

It looks like.....begins Gaius.

......a cane toad, says Sir Frederick. But it isn't. Here's the thing. The City of Melbourne wants to increase the understory habitat in Melbourne by 20 percent by 2026.

Good luck, says the Elegant Parrot. This place is a death trap.

Gaius looks at Sir Frederick to gauge his reaction.

Ha ha, laughs Sir Frederick. I said you were in the wrong room.

Go on, says Gaius.

The Council wants the public to vote for an emblematic species to represent Melbourne, says Sir Frederick. The nominees are: the Native Water Rat, the Pobblebonk, the Nocturnal Microbat, the White Skink and the Green Grocer Cicada. I favour the Pobblebonk.

I vote for the Green Grocer Cicada, says the Elegant Parrot. Green is best. I shall do all I can to see SHE gets elected.

Unfortunately for you, you won't be here, says Gaius. We head for the Baw Baw Plateau this afternoon.

So you intend to persist in this folly? says Sir Frederick. Do you realise how cold it will be? And the Baw Baws will all be inactive.

I am a Roman, says Gaius.

Humph! says Sir Frederick McCoy.

Time Slips Away

Night time. Grizel's kitchen smells of sardines.

Scissors are not the ideal tool to open a sardine tin ( the ring pull was broken ).

Splurt! Sardine oil splattered everywhere.

And was not entirely wiped up.

But no one is now in the kitchen.

Tick, tock. The clock ticks the seconds. A pale beam of moonlight falls through the window upon a framed version of 'If I was a Light Bulb' ( or whatever it was ) with musical notation, on faded paper.

In her dark bedroom, Grizel is sleeping.

In the lighter spare bedroom, Katherine is too.

In the study, Gaius, Sweezus and Arthur lie stiffly on lumpy cushions.

You asleep? whispers Arthur.

No, says Gaius. There's a tune going round in my head.

Yeah? Was it: Were no my heart light? says Sweezus.

Did you read the whole thing? Up on the wall in the kitchen? asks Arthur.

Yep, says Sweezus. I didn't get it. What's the titty?

It's a pap, says Gaius.

Yeah, but: He had a wee titty that loved na me? says Sweezus.

Arthur stifles a laugh.

I must admit, says Gaius, that had me puzzled. I shall ask Grizel in the morning.

I wouldn't, says Sweezus.

Terence emerges from under his warm tam o' shanter jacket, along with the Elegant Parrot.

A titty is a bird, says the Elegant Parrot.

See! says Terence. I was just about to tell you.

I don't see, says Sweezus. Because the titty gets Johnny into trouble with his mother. Then, on the wedding day the titty tops herself. And Johnny goes back to sea.

Why could it not be a bird? says the Elegant Parrot. They could all be.

Seeing we're awake, says Gaius, we might make plans for tomorrow. Who's coming to the Museum?

Me! says Terence.

Terence, says Gaius. You are the only one I was not addressing.

Terence's face falls.

While Arthur and Sweezus have suddenly fallen asleep.....

........

In the morning, everyone sleeps in. Then it's porridge for breakfast.

Who doesn't like porridge?

I believe you're all going to the Museum, says Grizel.

Not me, says Terence.

Certainly you, says Grizel. There's a Dinosaur Walk on. I know all little boys love dinosaurs. They have seventeen skeletons of prehistoric animals on display in the Science and Life Gallery.

Yippee! says Terence, sticking his arms through his hat. I'm ready already!

Perhaps you and Katherine might take him, says Gaius. I shall be busy. But before I forget, I had to ask you something....what was it now?

Luckily he can't remember, which is probably for the best.

Time is slipping away from us.

And I don't know what the titty is either.

I Am Impervious

What's the matter, little chappie? asks Grizel Baillie.

THEY'VE got warm jackets, says Terence. What have I got?

Shorts, says the Elegant Parrot.

But Terence, dear, says Katherine. You don't need a warm jacket.

You should be impervious, says Sweezus.

I AM impervious, says Terence. And I imperviously need a warm jacket.

What a wonderful adverb, says Grizel. Just for that you deserve a warm jacket. Let me see what I've got in my wardrobe.

She leaves the kitchen, to search through her copious wardrobe.

Shorts, says Terence gloomily.

That reminds me, says Sweezus.

He gives the wrapped present to Arthur.

Arthur rips open the colourful dog wrapping paper and the washed board shorts drop out.

Melted Lo Tides. Plain blue on one leg, orange fireballs on the other.

Hey, says Arthur. Thanks! I needed a new pair.

He sniffs them, for some reason.

It's okay. Lauren washed them, says Sweezus.

So, they're not new, says Arthur.

Yeah, but they kind of are, says Sweezus.

Arthur resolves to get to the bottom of the story, but just then Grizel re-enters the kitchen.

How will this do? She holds up a plaid Tam o' shanter.

Woo, says Terence. Is it a jacket?

It's a tammy! says Katherine. What a nice one! Grizel, where did you get it?

It was daddie's, says Grizel. But I don't really need it. I shall never forget my dear daddie.

Oh yes, your daddie, says Katherine. Didn't you and he do something brave?

Indeed, says Grizel. I was only twelve when I used to take daddie's letters to a Scottish conspirator in the Rye House plot, Robert Baillie.

Woo, says Terence.

Did you marry him? asks the Elegant Parrot.

This is not such a stupid question. Her name is Baillie.

No, scoffs Grizel. It was his son George that I married. We fell in love when I was twelve and married several years later, upon my insistence.

Romantic. But who can believe it?

It's got one BIG HOLE, says Terence.

I beg your pardon? says Grizel Baillie.

No armholes, says Terence.

Oh, he means the tammy, says Katherine.

I'll get the scissors, says Grizel. Now.... where are they?

I'm still using them, says Gaius, stabbing at a sardine tin.

If I Was A Light Bulb I'd Die

Arthur has good negotiating skills.

He and Gaius walk out of Kathmandu with three jackets, none of which they have paid for.

Other than a trifling deposit.

All they have to do is document their trip to the icy regions, to save the Baw Baw Frog from extinction, WEARING THE BRANDED JACKETS. And post it on You Tube with credits.

After which, they will return the jackets in good order.

A great coup.

Sweezus has sent Arthur a text with the Carlton address.

Grattan Place, Carlton.

They head over there.

This is most convenient, says Gaius. So near the Museum.

They knock on the door, which a well preserved lady opens.

Hello! says the well preserved lady in an Edinburgh accent. You must be Gaius and Arthur. I'm Grizel Baillie. Come in! Katherine and Sweezus and the little boy and the parrot are in the kitchen, having some supper. Will you join them? Here, let me hang up those jackets. What beautiful jackets! I do like bright orange. So easy to spot in the snow.......

Dear lady, says Gaius, I must thank you for your hospitality. What is for supper?

Tomato soup, says Katherine.

Gaius is aghast.

They go into the kitchen.

Oh hello boys! says Katherine. Isn't this nice! I see you've already met Grizel my old school friend. Arthur, I told her you were a poet.

Thanks, says Arthur. Any particular reason?

SHE'S a  poet, cries Terence She wrote a song in Scottish. If I was a light bulb I'd die.

No, dear says Grizel. You've got it wrong. Not if I was a light bulb. Were no my heart light I wad die.

She takes two more bowls out of the cupboard. Starts spooning tomato soup in.

Madam, says Gaius, I must abstain from your tomato soup, as I believe tomatoes are poison.

Good heavens! says Grizel. What a liability. Come and check out my pantry. We'll find something.

She leads Gaius into her pantry, to look for something less toxic.

Did you buy Sweezus a warm jacket? asks Katherine.

Yes, says Arthur.

How much was it? asks Katherine. I must settle up.

One hundred and sixty eight dollars, says Arthur.

Shit a brick! says Sweezus.

That was with forty percent off, says Arthur.

Let's see it, says Katherine. Oh that is LOVELY! Let me feel it. So light and warm. Is it down? What a beautiful colour.

Sunset, says Arthur. We've all got the same. Where we're going, we need to be able to see one another in the distance.

Without knowing which one we are, says the Elegant Parrot.

Ha ha! says Terence. I get it. That's funny!

Katherine slips Arthur two hundred dollars.

Keep the change dear, says Katherine. You never know when you might need a few extra dollars.

Arthur pockets the cash.

Gaius emerges from Grizel's pantry with a can of sardines.

Terence starts wailing. HE didn't get a warm jacket.

Wah! Why didn't I get one?

By Dint Of The Force Of His Personality

Six fifty. The Overland train is on time.

Gaius looks at his time piece.

Six fifty. Six fifty?

What time does the Museum shut? Five.

Drat, says Gaius. I haven't thought this through very well.

What's up? says Arthur.

They are now in the street with their bikes.

I was planning to catch up with Sir Frederick, says Gaius. At the Melbourne Museum. Old friend of mine.

Call him, says Arthur. He might invite us to dinner.

I don't have his number, says Gaius. He won't have a phone.

We can go shopping, says Arthur. For warm jackets. What time does the Museum open tomorrow?

Ten, I suppose, says Gaius. Dear me, this is holding us up. But I really would like to see Sir Frederick. He's an expert in frogs. Wrote the Prodromus, you know. Moulded the Museum by dint of the force of his personality. You'll like him.

Okay, says Arthur. Kathmandu?

What? says Gaius, still thinking about the Prodromus.

Kathmandu, says Arthur. They've got a sale on. Where's Elizabeth Street? No, wait, don't tell me.

Amazing. Arthur has still got some charge in his phone and he knows how to use it.

Soon he and Gaius are entering Kathmandu in Elizabeth Street. They do have a sale on. Forty percent off branded gear. They head for the jackets.

Ring ring! Arthur has the same pedestrian ring tone as Sweezus.

Hello?

Arthur? Where are you?

In Kathmandu.

Fuck! I though you were heading to Melbourne!

I am in Melbourne. Gaius is buying us jackets.

Cool! Buy me one as well. Katherine'll pay when we get there. Yeah, she offered....

Okay. Where are you staying?

Dunno where I'm staying. What? Oh awesome, thanks Katherine. I'm staying with her at her friend's house.

We need somewhere to stay too, the Museum is shut now.

Come over. It's somewhere in Carlton. I'll text you the address. Bring the jacket.

Gaius looks at the jackets with gathering scorn. Ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous. One hundred and sixty seven dollars for a Heli Men's Lightweight Down Jacket V2, Sunset. And that's with forty percent off.

Perhaps he and Arthur can share one.

But he has not factored in Arthur, who has already gone to the counter with three.

Nhill By Mouth

Six o'clock in the evening. Sweezus is driving. They will soon be in Nhill.

You do drive fast, dear, says Katherine. Do I smell burning?

Farm burn-offs, says Sweezus.

If you say so, says Katherine. By the way, I should have asked you before, do you have a licence?

Katherine, says Sweezus. Would I drive your car if I didn't?

Arthur did once, says Katherine, remembering.

Arthur would, says Sweezus. I've had a licence since I turned seventeen. Comes in useful.

I'm sure it does, says Katherine. Arthur might have found one useful as well. Are you meeting him in Melbourne?

Yep, says Sweezus.

Arthur's getting a present, says Terence.

What's that dear? asks Katherine

Terence is in the back seat, with the Elegant Parrot.

A present, says Terence. This is it here. And I know what's in it.

No, you don't, says Sweezus. And don't you dare open it. I paid a motza for the paper.

The wrapping paper is dogs. Dogs in colourful dog coats. The dog coats are all different. But the dogs are the same.

It's a paint set, says the Elegant Parrot. The paper's a clue.

No. It's a dog coat, says Terence. You picked the wrong clue.

Why would Arthur want a dog coat? asks Katherine.

He wouldn't, says Sweezus. Shall we stop in Nhill for a burger?

All right, says Katherine. I do feel peckish.

Sweezus pulls up in Nhill.

Now Sweezus and Katherine are sitting in the car eating burgers. The front window steams up.

So what is it, the present? asks Katherine.

Boardies, says Sweezus. Arthur needs a new pair.

Katherine is reminded of the time, a few years ago now, when she bought Arthur and Sweezus each a new pair of boardshorts.

She looks sideways at Sweezus, Not his face, lower. Good heavens The dear boy is still wearing the very same board shorts. She can faintly discern the worn orange tigers and threadbare black panthers of the once darkly etched pattern..

What a nice young man he is, buying new ones for Arthur, when he needs some himself.

Perhaps she should offer...... but no, it is winter, and they are heading for Melbourne. And who knows where after that? Arthur and Gaius were planning to go frog hunting on some god forsaken freezing cold plateau.....

So she doesn't.

But....

I wonder, says Katherine. Won't you both be cold?

Dunno, says Sweezus.

I'm cold, says Terence. I hope we find my lost hat in Melbourne.

You lost a hat? says the Elegant Parrot. What kind was it? No, don't tell me, Peruvian side flaps?

YES! cries Terence. You are the the best parrot I've ever had so far!

The only parrot, says Sweezus.

Katherine suppresses a smile.