The Logistics Of Ten Thousand Postcards

Next morning. Arthur and Ying meet at the airport.

Arthur has the red box, shoved in his shorts pocket.

You travel light, says Ying. Is that your one pair of shorts?

Yes, says Arthur. And they're not dry yet.

You washed them! says Ying. That's so sweet.

I didn't, says Arthur. Sweezus was washing his, so I dropped mine in.

How damp are they? asks Ying.

She touches them gingerly, on the frayed purple edge of the pocket.

I'll take the box, says Ying. It's cardboard. It'll go soggy.

Too late. The red box containing Daniel O'Connell, Geoff Darwin and Cedric Walnut has already gone soggy.

They pass through security.

Security scans the soggy red box.

Nothing unusual there.

Just toys, says Ying, smiling at the scanning officer.

This arouses suspicion, and Ying is frisked with a wand for traces of explosives.

Of which, luckily, no traces are found.

Arthur and Ying board the Emirates flight to Dubai.

It's a long flight, says Ying. We'll be great friends by the end. Here, hold the box for a second.

She wriggles in her seat, adjusting the seat belt.

Arthur's thumb goes straight through the box.

Soft cheers are heard through the thumb hole.

Arthur lifts the lid. It's the first time he's looked into the Rooibos tea box since yesterday.

About time! says Geoff Darwin.

I should say so, says Cedric Walnut. Call an ambulance!

Can't says Arthur. We're on a plane.

Get Daniel O'Connell out then, says Geoff Darwin. He's not breathing.

He doesn't, says Arthur. Not like you or me. Or just me, depending...

What are you talking about Arthur? asks Ying.

Daniel O'Connell's stopped breathing, says Arthur.

Ai! says Ying. Is he dead or something? This is no good! Get him out, let's have a look.

Arthur lifts Daniel O'Connell out of the red box, by one of his tiny thin legs.

Sets him down on his damp purple shorts, horizontal.

Daniel O'Connell opens his eyes to see a SKULL staring back at him.

'Tis the grim reaper! cries Daniel O'Connell.

But 'tis not the grim reaper. 'Tis the newly washed pattern on Arthur's Brave Soul Paisley Skull shorts.

A lesson, not to do washing too often.

.......

Several hours into the flight, Ying and Arthur have exhausted the niceties

How is Stew? Still in Tassie. I never see him. How was the Tour De France? Good. I was the captain. We met Proust. How amazing! Did he speak in long sentences? Not always. He was there as a clown. Excuse me, I need to go to the toilet. Okay. Oops sorry. More champagne?

And now it is dinner time.

Daniel O'Connell is back in the box, under the seat in front of Arthur.

Ying has folded the lid back, so the inmates can see.

All they can see is the flat bottom of a seat, a slit of light, and all they can smell is:

Lamb Brochette with Arabic spices.
Grilled Chicken Breast with Caramelised Plums.

To take their mind off their hunger they speak of their families.

Geoff Darwin: I didn't realise we were going on such a long journey.

Cedric Walnut: Neither did I. My wife will be beside herself

Geoff Darwin: So will mine

Daniel O'Connell (morosely): I don't have anyone beside herself.

Geoff Darwin: A free man eh? What about relatives?

Daniel O'Connell: Only the Black Jumping Spiders. And they don't know me.

Cedric Walnut: Aye. We family men don't always realise....

Geoff Darwin: ......how lucky we are.

........

Arthur is beginning to think that Ying is not going to mention the wallet.

After all, it was two years ago.

He closes his eyes, after adjusting his seat to a reclining position.

Arthur, says Ying.

What? says Arthur.

We need to talk about something.

What is it?

The ten thousand postcards. The logistics. How will you...?

All under control, mumbles Arthur.