Sensible People V Others

Late afternoon.The Lagoon is returning to Bridgetown.

On board, there is muted gaiety.

The catamaran cruise was the final thing on the agenda.

Early tomorrow, the guests will fly home.

No one wants to drink too many rum punches, and risk feeling terrible.

They are sensible people, who will go back to selling audiological equipment, when they get home.

The Jolly Roger floats by, to the sounds of crazy conga dancing.

Da-da, da-da, dah-DAH, da-da, da-da, dah-DAH. Woohoo!

Nose watches, from the deck of the Lagoon.

The two vessels are close now. She spies her friend Bertrand the cook, leaning over the side of the Jolly Roger.

Dropping something into the water.

That's not allowed!

Bertrand! Is that a lobster?

Yes, Nose. How did you know? And why are you on a catamaran when you should be helping me in the kitchen? There is much broken glass on the floor.

I know. I broke it. And I killed the lobster. So I can never come back. Don't forget me, Bertrand.

I won't forget you. And I will clean up the glass by myself. No questions asked.

Bye then, Bertrand.

Bye, Nose!

The Jolly Roger passes the Lagoon, leaving behind it a rollicking sea wake, faint conga music, and a dead floating crustacean, once known as Stede Bonnett.

Dancing, says Terence. When are we dancing?

I don't feel like dancing, says Nose.

Nor do I, says Tiny Sacrifice.

Terence determines to dance on his own.

He starts jigging up and down, and sticking out his bottom, this way and that way.

But the captain tells him off, so he has to stop dancing.
.......

Back on the beach, outside the Waves Resort Hotel, in the completely wrong direction for finding a Barbados racer, young Richard Ligon is waiting.

Julia turns up.

Is this your crime scene? asks Julia, looking sceptical.

Could be, says young Richard Ligon. See the scuffle marks?

You should stick to your field, say Julia. These aren't made by turtles.

Eh, shrugs young Richard Ligon.

Wrong size, wrong season, says Julia.

Okay. Want to help me look for snake tracks? asks young Richard Ligon.

Might as well, says Julia. I'm here now. How come you're looking for snake tracks? I thought you were holding the fort in the Chem and Biology labs?

Something came up, says young Richard Ligon. There was a sighting of a Barbados racer.

No kidding? says Julia. Here?

Here, says young Richard Ligon. But it doesn't live here. This is where it was spotted.

Who by? asks Julia.

A couple of natural historians, says young Richard Ligon. They brought in a snake egg for DNA testing. It hatched. I actually had the baby snake, but it jumped out of my beaker.

Julia is unimpressed with the scientific rigour of young Richard Ligon. If she were his supervisor, which she isn't, she would have more to say.....

Instead she says, It's four o'clock. Let's get cake and coffee.

They head back to the Waves Resort Hotel just as Gaius and Griff are arriving.

Richard Ligon! says Gaius. Any results yet?

Not yet, says young Richard Ligon. This is Julia Horrocks. She's in charge of the Sea Turtle Project in Barbados.

Indeed! says Gaius. The Sea Turtle Project! I imagine that keeps you busy.

It does, says Julia. Particularly during nesting. We have volunteers making sure the nests don't get disturbed. Some unscrupulous people try to collect them.

Excellent, says Gaius. I mean, what you do. Ah! Here comes Terence.

Good, says Richard Ligon. Is the snake with him?

I don't see him, says Gaius. But here's Nose! Nose! What are you doing back on dry land? Given up on the briny?

Nose nods, and sniffs, but says nothing.

Where's Tiny Sacrifice? asks young Richard Ligon.

On the beach eating a snack, says Terence. Hell be back in a minute. Then I'll have two parrots.

Is he a parrot? asks Julia. I like parrots.

No, he isn't says Terence.

Oh, I thought... says Julia.

So did I, says Terence.

Glassed In The Soft Parts

Stede Bonnett has no knowledge of seafaring, except as a passenger.

It's why he wants Nose back.

She was a natural.

She scrubbed decks, bailed out the bilges, fixed leaks and made lovely rum punches.

And then she left him.

All HE had done was....

Damn and blast it! Best not to think of that now.

Stealthily, he leaps from the Revenge to the Jolly Roger's ladder, a gleaming knife clenched in his mandibles.

Nose is in the galley, washing rum punch glasses, of which there are many, and humming a washing up song.

Stede Bonnett creeps up behind her.

Arr-harr! Got you, my pretty!

No you haven't!

Nose smashes a glass on the sink top and glasses his soft parts.

Arr-harr! Now who's in trouble?

Nose scampers up to the main deck and leaps over the side.

There are still some guests in the water. They don't try to detain her.

She swims, until she reaches the sand, where Terence and Tiny Sacrifice are digging, while trying not to look like they're digging.

Guys! cries Nose. I think I've just killed Stede Bonnett.

It's an exciting thing to have happened.

You're lucky, says Terence. We're digging a hole.

What for? asks Nose, with suspicion.

Nothing. We're just doing it, says Terence.

Then he thinks of something a bit more convincing.

We're burying the macaroni pie.

Well, I'm not going anywhere near it, says Nose. But I'm glad you're not digging for turtle eggs.

Tiny Sacrifice looks guilty. He hasn't learned not to.

Hmm, says Nose. Maybe you are. But I can't report you. I'm coming back with you, on the Lagoon.

Okay, says Terence. That means you'll miss the mad conga dancing.

We can do our own conga dancing, says Nose. Tiny Sacrifice will be good at it.

So will I, says Terence.

You'll be too stiff, says Nose.

I won't be too stiff, says Terence. He twirls in the sand, to show her.

So wow! It's all fixed and decided!

Only Tiny Sacrifice is disappointed, because he still hasn't had any dinner.

Shipwreck Lunch And Revenge

A shallow shipwreck.

Bright purple sea whips, yellow finger sponges, damselfish, blue tangs and sergeant majors.

Sea plumes and white anemones.

Lacy purple coral, in the shadows.

Humans, with flippers and snorkels. Not Terence.

On board the Lagoon, in a deck chair, Mrs Thomas Hume thinks of her children.

Today's her last day in Barbados.

Terence and Tiny Sacrifice are nearby, scheming.

How to lure Nose back.

How to get Tiny Sacrifice a proper live dinner.

......

On the beach outside the Waves Resort Hotel, young Richard Ligon has followed a false trail.

It has led to a pile of sand recently scuffled, and some tiny turtle footprints.

He calls Julia, who is in charge of the Sea Turtle Project.

.....

Gaius and Griff are cycling back from the university after tea and biscuits with Professor Tinto.

Nice biscuits, Hobnobs, says Griff. I've always liked them.

Indeed, says Gaius. A most pleasant morning. I learned a great deal about secondary metabolites. Speaking of which, I wonder if young Richard Ligon has any results yet?

A young woman cycles past them, going downhill in a hurry.

That will be Julia.

......

Reception is sitting at reception, reading a comic, when Griff and Gaius come in.

Did Terence go out on the catamaran? asks Gaius.

Yes sir, says Reception. Bit of a drama.

Drama? says Gaius.

This scientist chap came in with a snake in a beaker, says Reception. Long story short, the snake jumped on Terence's head and they ran out to the minibus together.

That snake was our specimen! says Gaius. Jumping Jupiter! Where's young Richard Ligon?

Down on the beach, says Reception.

Gaius wants to find him at once, but Griff reminds him it's lunch time.

....

It is lunch time too on the Jolly Roger.

And on the Lagoon.

Both vessels are anchored in a secluded harbour. After a delicious buffet on board (macaroni pie, carrot cake) the guests are free to swim, stroll on the beach and relax in the sunshine.

But what's this?

A small patched vessel slides up behind the Jolly Roger.

It's the Revenge.

My Dark Side

The Lagoon is about to move off to the site of a shipwreck.

Terence is regretting his plan.

The plan with no middle and no ending.

Kick Tiny Sacrifice into the water inside a snorkel and then what?

He leans dangerously over the railing.

What's that in the water? A snorkel?

He runs to find Mrs Thomas-Hume, who is drying her hair after swimming with turtles.

What is it, baby?

The snorkel's come back!

Go and tell Cally. She's over there, counting the snorkels.

Terence runs over to Cally.

You again, says Cally.

Look, says Terence, pointing. The snorkel's come back.

Cally fetches a long handled net.

The dripping snorkel is tipped onto the deck and Tiny Sacrifice emerges.

Yay! says Terence. You did it!

I did it, says Tiny Sacrifice.

You could have got into trouble, says Cally. Where were you?

The Jolly Roger, says Tiny Sacrifice. They made me eat sandflies.

That's the Jolly Roger for you, says Cally.

The Lagoon moves into position close to the shipwreck.

Guests are lining up for their snorkels.

The Jolly Roger looms alongside, and drops anchor.

It looks like everyone's diving the same shipwreck today.

Terence can see Nose, on the Jolly Roger, giving instructions.

How come she gets to give instructions? says Terence.

She had training, says Tiny Sacrifice. Hey. Do you know when lunch is?

After this, says Terence. But it's macaroni pie.

That's why I came back, says Tiny Sacrifice.

For the pie? asks Terence.

No, says Tiny Sacrifice. I discovered my dark side.

Where? asks Terence.

Life is a journey, says Tiny Sacrifice. Every mistake is a lesson. I made two mistakes. One, I did what you told me. Two, I ate a sandfly.

Woop! says Terence. You already told me you ate a sandfly. What was the lesson?

Don't eat a sandfly, says Tiny Sacrifice. But while I was trying, Nose told me about the baby sea turtles, the girl ones, that grow in warm sand.

What would she know? scoffs Terence. Why are they girl ones?

It's magic, says Tiny Sacrifice. Plump little girl ones. And I knew that I wanted to eat one. There, I've told you my dark side.

Okay, says Terence.

This is impressive. A dark side. Sweezus has a dark side. So does Arthur. Even Ageless has a dark side. Ageless especially. He killed Frog by dropping him out of a window. Splurt. Frog was dead. Red flesh and tomato seeds splattered over the pavement........

Of course, Frog was a tomato.

And Terence once tried a tomato. He likes red things. But not, it turned out, tomatoes.

I ate a frog once, says Terence.

Did you? Tiny Sacrifice is relieved of a burden.

He Would Give Anything

Come on, says Nose. I'll make up a snack pack.

She tips several dead insects into a lunch box.

They go up on deck.

I'm on duty, says Nose. Have to watch the sea turtles. Sit here and eat your insects.

Tiny Sacrifice can't open the lunch box.

Here, says Nose.

Flip. She does it.

She goes back to the railing.

Tiny Sacrifice tries a dead sandfly.

She turns. How is it?

Okay, says Tiny Sacrifice. It's my first one

Are you a local? asks Nose. I'm not a local.

I came from an egg, says Tiny Sacrifice. I thought Gaius was my mother.

I know Gaius, says Nose. He brought me here to Barbados. Who is your mother?

I don't know, says Tiny Sacrifice.

Think, says Nose.

Tiny Sacrifice tries to. He only sees Gaius's face.

I still don't know, says Tiny Sacrifice.

Okay, says Nose. I'll tell you my story. When I came here I had no trousers. Then Griff bought me these pirate pantaloons. Then we went on the Revenge for a day trip. The captain was Ageless's friend. They're both lobsters. The ship started sinking. Everyone left in the lifeboat but me and the captain.

Then what? asks Tiny Sacrifice.

I fixed the leak, says Nose. And bailed out the water. And we sailed back to shore. The captain let me go free.

Free? says Tiny Sacrifice. Were you a prisoner?

Course not, says Nose. No way. Not exactly.

To any one but Tiny Sacrifice this would have sounded suspicious.

So now I work on the Jolly Roger, says Nose. And I love it. We get training. Ask me anything about sea turtles. Go on.

Tiny Sacrifice tries to think of a question.

I know, says Nose. You can't think of one. That's because you're just tiny. Here's one. Where are all the babies?

I don't know, says Tiny Sacrifice.

I KNOW you don't! says Nose. But I do. The babies are out swimming in the deep ocean. Only the adults are here in the bay. They come back to the beach to make nests in the sand. What's the matter?

Nothing, says Tiny Sacrifice. I wish I knew everything.

Like me? says Nose. You're sweet. I don't know everything. Julia knows everything. She does the training. She says...

Tiny Sacrifice hiccups up a lump of dead sandfly.

He would give anything to eat something fresh and juicy.....

They get girl baby turtles if they lay their eggs in the warm sand and boy baby turtles if they lay them in the cold sand, says Nose. What? Don't you believe me?

It's not that he doesn't believe her. He is thinking of warm girl-baby turtles, and not in a good way.

Every Mistake Is A Lesson

On board the Lagoon, Cally is handing out snorkels, from a blue plastic container.

It's Tiny Sacrifice's turn to ask for a snorkel.

Is it for you? asks Cally. Because you're too small for a snorkel.

No, says Tiny Sacrifice. It's for my big friend.

Tell your big friend to line up for a snorkel, says Cally.

He's got a sore leg, says Tiny Sacrifice.

Then he doesn't need a snorkel, says Cally.

Tiny Sacrifice goes back to Terence, who doesn't have a sore leg because it was just a ruse to obtain a snorkel, and the ruse didn't work.

It's hard being a good Until-Parrot.

On the way back he is thinking: Terence can't go.

You can't go, says Tiny Sacrifice.

Why? says Terence.

You've got a sore leg, says Tiny Sacrifice. That's what I said, and that's why you can't go.

But I haven't, says Terence. The reason I can't go is I'm not allowed to. You should have got one for you and then given it to me.

I'm too small for a snorkel, says Tiny Sacrifice. I'm small enough to fit inside it.

Hey! says Terence. You're a genius! Come on, Until-Parrot.

He drags Tiny Sacrifice back to Cally.

Is this your big friend? asks Cally. His leg looks okay.

No, it's hurting says Terence.

Cally bends down to look. Terence reaches into the box of snorkels while she isn't looking.

Cally straightens up.

Uh-uh. Put it back, sweetheart. You're not allowed one.

Terence drops the snorkel, accidentally, on the deck of the catamaran.

Tiny Sacrifice stares at the snorkel.

Terence hasn't spelled out the plan.

Terence raises his little cement eyebrows.

What?

Get in, mouths Terence.

Quick as a flash Tiny Sacrifice squeezes into the snorkel, and quick as a second flash, Terence kicks the snorkel over the side.

Success. Now Tiny Sacrifice is in the water, inside a snorkel.

He can.....

But what is the rest of the plan?

.......

On board the Jolly Roger, Nose has finished handing out snorkels.

The guests are all snorkelling down there in the water, looking for turtles.

Here come a few turtles. How nice they are, swimming together, the people and the turtles.

Nose watches for signs of trouble or distress, as she takes her job seriously.

No, everything is good down there, look at that turtle, ooh... is it choking? no it isn't.... what's that?  someone's lost a snorkel.

She reports to the captain. Permission to go down, captain.

Yes, Nose. Go down. Let's hope it's not one of our snorkels.

Nose climbs down the Jolly Roger's rope ladder, reaches out as the snorkel floats nearer and grabs it!

Then she climbs back up the rope ladder.

Tiny Sacrifice is only too glad to be rescued. He was in difficulty. He slides out of the snorkel.

Holy-moly! says Nose. Where did you come from?

Terence, gasps Tiny Sacrifice.

Terence! says Nose. So he did see me!

Are you his parrot? asks Tiny Sacrifice.

Still evolving, says Nose. It's a journey. What about you?

I'm the Until-Parrot, says Tiny Sacrifice. But I keep stuffing up.

Don't think that way, says Nose. Every mistake is a lesson.

I love you, says Tiny Sacrifice. You think every mistake is a lesson.

(It seems Tiny Sacrifice falls in love often. That's twice already).

Come down to the galley, says Nose. We've got ...I shouldn't say this... but we've got a fine collection of dead insects.

Yum, says Tiny Sacrifice, who has eaten nothing since the fateful half raisin.

Where The Sea Turtles Are

See that parrot waving? says Terence.

No, says Tiny Sacrifice. What parrot waving?

Okay, says Terence. You don't know her. I do.

Where is she? asks Tiny Sacrifice.

She just sailed away, says Terence. She was waving. That means....

Terence is silent. What does it mean? How did Nose escape from Stede Bonnett? She's a bandicoot, with stuck-on pink feathers. It's not like she could fly. Unless she had learned to.

Tiny Sacrifice is still assuming that the parrot is a parrot.

Waving.

He wishes he could do that.

The catamaran starts moving.

We're off! says Mrs Thomas-Hume. Now Terence, keep away from the railing.

She goes off to look for a drink and a cushion.

Yay! says Terence. We're following the pirate ship. We'll catch up, and find her. I knew it would happen.

I love you, says Tiny Sacrifice. Do you want to know why?

Yes, why? asks Terence.

Because you know what's going to happen, says Tiny Sacrifice. BEFORE IT EVEN HAPPENS!

Such a thing had not occurred to Terence.

No, says Terence. It's already happened. We're following Nose. That's what I knew. So you don't have to love me.

Sorry, says Tiny Sacrifice.

You can if you want to, says Terence. Even better, you can be my... no you can't...

What? asks Tiny Sacrifice.

Parrot, says Terence. But that's what Nose is. Especially now she can fly.

Until you find her, says Tiny Sacrifice. I'll be your Until-Parrot.

You don't know how to be one, says Terence.

But it's tempting, to have an Until-Parrot.

Okay. It means you have to do what I tell you.

Okay, says Tiny Sacrifice. What do you want?

I want to dive and see See-Turtles, says Terence. But I'm not allowed to.

Hmm, says Tiny Sacrifice, as though he is thinking.

But he has no idea how to arrange it.

The 'Lagoon' is the name of the luxury catamaran on which they are sailing. There are twelve passengers on it, a captain, four crew.

The Lagoon glides through the blue and green tropical waters towards Carlisle Bay.

This is where the sea turtles are.

The Jolly Roger has already stopped there. Nose has come down from the mast. She is in charge of the snorkels.

Everyone loves her. A bandicoot in pirate pantaloons, with a long nose, giving out snorkels. Imagine the banter. (Clue: it's snorkel/nose banter. At its simplest: Ha ha. You've got your own snorkel).

The bay is dotted with tourist vessels.

The water teems with sea turtles.

The Lagoon stops, not far from the Jolly Roger.

The Captain says: We'll stop for an hour here. The crew will help you with your snorkels. Ramon has a bucket of fish. You can feed the turtles, if they come up to you. Remember, these ancient creatures have been on the earth for more than one hundred million years so we should respect them. Afterwards we'll move to the site of a shipwreck, for diving. Then stop at Payne's Bay for lunch. I believe macaroni pie is on the menu...

Yuck, says Terence. Macaroni pie.

Tiny Sacrifice is lining up for a snorkel.

He might even pluck up some courage, and ask for two snorkels.

The Wrong Cruise

In the minibus Tiny Sacrifice lies low.

Low as possible, coiled round the cement curls of Terence.

Does Terence know Tiny Sacrifice is up there?

No he doesn't.

Terence is asking, not for the first time: Are we there yet?

And Mrs Thomas-Hume, not for the first time, is answering: No.

This time, she glances down at Terence. OH!

Keep perfectly still, says Mrs Thomas-Hume. And don't panic. I'll ask the driver to stop....

The driver has stopped anyway.

Because they are now at Deep Water Harbour.

Everyone starts to get out.

What? says Terence.

She is holding him back from getting out of the minibus and on to the catamaran.

Snake on your head, says Mrs Thomas-Hume.

Yay! says Terence, reaching up.

Hello, says Tiny Sacrifice.

You know him? says Mrs Thomas-Hume. Why didn't you say so? I was petrified.

Terence looks at Tiny Sacrifice.

His look says: Grown ups! Unreasonable bum-plops. Even the nice ones.

Tiny Sacrifice tries to interpret the look.

He interprets the look as: Are you coming ?

I'm coming, says Tiny Sacrifice. Where are we going?

On a cruise, says Terence. To rescue a pirate.

This is so wrong it's laughable.

Mrs Thomas-Hume laughs.

Come on, you two. Look, there's our catamaran. What a beauty!

But Terence has seen the Jolly Roger, tied up alongside it.

The Jolly Roger does jolly pirate tours. They go out, the crew dressed as pirates. They sail up the west coast and stop above a shipwreck. There the tourists can dive. They eat pirate snacks afterwards, and drink rum punches. On the home stretch, they dance mad conga lines.

This is the tour that Terence is not going on.

We're probably going to see sea turtles, says Mrs Thomas-Hume.

See? says Terence.

Yes, says Mrs Thomas-Hume.

You said see see, says Terence.

No I didn't says Mrs Thomas Hume. I said see SEA TURTLES. Sea turtles are turtles that live in the sea. We can swim in amongst them. The grown ups. Not you.

This is a rubbish cruise, says Terence. We want to go on the Jolly Roger.

Yes, says Tiny Sacrifice. (What Terence wants, he wants too).

Terence stares hard at the Jolly Roger, as if something might happen.

It does. The Jolly Roger starts creaking, moving backwards.

Too late, the Jolly Roger sets sail.

Yoo hoo!

Faint on the breeze.

Yoo hoo!

Fainter.

Terence strains his eyes at the diminishing Jolly Roger. Something is moving, on the main mast.

A small figure waving.

A small figure, in pirate pantaloons.

False Leads And Seductions

Young Richard Ligon steps onto the beach in front of the Waves Resort Hotel.

Last night's gala dinner canopy has been dismantled. The sand is raked clean.

Several people are reclining in deck chairs, under coloured umbrellas, looking hung over.

No snake tracks here.

He walks up the beach a short way, and voila! some promising drag marks. Could they be multiple snake tracks?

He follows them, in the hope that they are.

.......

The snake tracks lead to Ageless lobster who is sunning himself, turning pinkish.

Beside him, his beloved, Kobo clam.

You'll cook, says Kobo. In fact I think I can smell you.

I feel the healing powers of the sun's rays, says Ageless. My dent is mending.

Expanding, says Kobo. It's not the same thing.

Can you really smell me? asks Ageless.

Before she can confirm it, young Richard Ligon turns up.

So the snake tracks were not snake tracks. They were the tracks of a lobster, and a fossilised clam.

To be certain, he crouches beside them.

It'a a long beach, says Ageless. Why don't you bugger off, mate.

Ageless! says Kobo.

Just looking for snakes, says young Richard Ligon. Seen any?

Yes! says Ageless.

No! says Kobo.

Young Richard Ligon addresses his next question to Ageless.

How many? What did they look like?

One, says Ageless. Masteego. A popinjay, a rum sort of fellow.

When did you last see him? asks young Richard Ligon.

Last night, says Ageless. He was chasing skirt, if you must know.

Kobo giggles.

Tangerine, her best friend, was the skirt.

Which way was he going? asks young Richard Ligon.

That way, Ageless points with his dominant claw.

Thanks a million, says young Richard Ligon.

He heads off, in that direction.

Mmmm, says Kobo. That was clever. All those lies, and pointing him in the wrong direction.

Was it? says Ageless. Damn. And what's that smell?

Come, says Kobo. You've had enough sunshine. Let's find some shade and get comfy.

Clik,,,clik,,,?

Mmm, comfy.

Ageless is only too willing.

Sun Sand And Snorkel

Gaius is examining a dried sample of metastelma barbadensa.

Griff is looking at an illustrated dwarf poinciana. A flower he remembers.

Professor Tinto's head appears round the door.

Gentlemen! says Professor Tinto. I came back as soon as I realised I had a distinguished visitor.

Ah, say Gaius and Griff, at the same time.

I'm Winston Tinto, Professor of Organic Chemistry, says Professor Tinto. Where's young Richard Ligon? He's supposed to be helping you out.

He was, says Gaius. He's just hared off with our specimen. Very keen fellow.

Yes, I have great hopes for young Richard Ligon, says Professor Tinto. What do you think of our Herbarium?

Very fine, says Gaius. Are these the only two plants endemic to Barbados? The phyllanthus anderssonii and the metastelma barbadensa?

I believe so, says Professor Tinto, But my principal interests lie in the microbial diversity and metabolism of sponges, and bioprospecting for microalgae in fresh water, brackish water, and hot springs.

You don't say, says Gaius. Would that be with the aim of identifying high-lipid producing strains and
ultimately using microalgae in the production of biofuels?

Yes, says Professor Tinto. It would. Would you and your assistant care to join me for a cup of tea in my office, where we can chat further?

This is Griffith Hughes, says Gaius. He is my colleague, not my assistant. You may know of him. He wrote the famous Natural History of Barbados, in Ten Books.

Forgive me, says Professor Tinto.

Certainly. There were no photos in my day, says Griff.

Nor in mine, says Gaius.

The three men laugh at the thought of a time with no photos of authors.

A cup of tea would be welcome. A discussion of biofuels is certain to be productive.

And Professor Tinto thinks he might rustle up some biscuits.

Young Richard Ligon's abduction of Tiny Sacrifice is all but forgotten.

....

At the Waves Resort Hotel, young Richard Ligon is talking to Reception.

No, you can't go looking, says Reception. There are no snakes here.

It's the official position.

Mrs Thomas-Hume and Terence are passing through the foyer, on their way to the mini-bus.

Look, says Terence. A SNAKE BABY!

There, you see what I mean, says Reception. It's not a normal occurrence.

I know it isn't, says young Richard Ligon. That's why I'm here.

Come on, Terence! calls Mrs Thomas-Hume.

But Terence has run over to the glass beaker, on the counter in front of Reception.

He's lost, says Terence.

Tiny Sacrifice hears him, through the glass beaker.

Or the air. There's no lid on the beaker.

Yes I am lost, thinks Tiny Sacrifice. And this boy knows me.

COME ON TERENCE! Minibus is leaving! calls Mrs Thomas-Hume.

Tiny Sacrifice has jumped out of the beaker once before. He reenacts it.

He leaps onto Terence's head. Lands among the cement curls, just as Terence turns and runs to the minibus.

You could call it a close run thing.

See that, says Reception.

Who was the kid? asks young Richard Ligon. Where's he going?

Friend of mine, says Reception. I rescued him from the ocean last night. He's going on a catamaran cruise. Sun, Sand and Snorkel.

When will he get back? asks young Richard Ligon.

Five hours, says Reception. You can wait on the beach. You might find some snake tracks.

So he might! Good outcome! Young Richard Ligon couldn't be happier.

Save Me Like Fathers Do

Young Richard Ligon has obtained a scrape of tissue from Tiny Sacrifice and labelled it, for future analysis.

That can come later. Right now he's determined to locate the mother.

He pops Tiny Sacrifice into the glass beaker and heads for the Herbarium.

Gaius and Griff are examining a dried specimen of Phyllanthus anderssonii.

It doesn't look too healthy, says Gaius.

It's dried, says Griff. You wouldn't expect it to be looking too healthy.

I'm allowing for the fact that it's dried, says Gaius. But it shouldn't look as though it's been poisoned.

True, says Griff. Unless it has been poisoned.

Neither of them has noticed the stamp which says Poisoned by mercuric chloride and m. cresol.

Young Richard Ligon comes in.

Question, says Young Richard Ligon. Where exactly did you find him?

Him? says Gaius. Who?

The baby Barbados racer, says young Richard Ligon. There may be more of them.

Ah, says Gaius. My lips are sealed. You agree, Griff?

I suppose so, says Griff. After all, we don't smell of roses.

Indeed, says Gaius. To obtain Tiny Sacrifice we.... somewhat compromised our position.

You did? says young Richard Ligon. Intriguing. I wouldn't have expected....

No, you young people wouldn't, says Griff. But there was a result. That's the main thing.

I'm into results, says young Richard Ligon. And I can keep my mouth shut.

Inside his beaker, Tiny Sacrifice hopes that someone says something, and soon.

We obtained one snake egg in exchange for some private information, says Griff. The father drove a hard bargain.

The father! Tiny Sacrifice didn't even know that he had a father.

O father! Save me. Like fathers do.

What information? asks young Richard Ligon.

This is like trying to get juice from a stone.

The whereabouts of the mother, says Griff

Gaius looks disapproving. Best to keep mum.

But Griff (as a reverend) sees no harm in disseminating useless information.

A beach, says Griff. She was at the beach in front of the Waves Resort Hotel. Bent on dissolution.

Tiny Sacrifice doesn't like to hear this about his mother.

Dissolution. It doesn't sound good. And his father, did he go and save her, from the dissolution?

His mouth is dry with worry, about both his parents.

He wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

Then young Richard Ligon says: Leave this with me, guys.

And Gaius suddenly notices the stamp with the information about the poison.

And is distracted. And Griff doesn't care all that much.

So young Richard Ligon walks boldly out of the Herbarium with Tiny Sacrifice.

Tucking the glass beaker into his back pack, he goes straight to his bicycle.

And cycles to the Waves Resort Hotel.

He arrives just as the group going out on the catamaran cruise is leaving.

This group includes Mrs Thomas-Hume, and Terence, who is hoping to spot the Revenge and recover his parrot.

The First Face I Saw

That shouldn't have happened, says young Richard Ligon.

Tiny Sacrifice thinks the same.

The cotton bud was obviously not meant to be extra breakfast.

Now he can't move his body.

Is he dead? asks Griff. All that trouble for nothing.

Of course he's not dead, says Gaius. Hold his tail. I'll draw out the cotton bud.

No, I'll do it, says young Richard Ligon.

He pulls at the cotton bud, while Griff holds down the tail.

Pop. Out comes the cotton bud, and half a raisin.

Contamination, says Gaius. You'll have to swab him again.

But there is NO WAY that Tiny Sacrifice is having another cotton bud up him.

No way and never.

And he has gone off half raisins as well.

He curls up in a tight snake ball, mouth invisible.

Never mind, says young Richard Ligon. There are other ways of getting a sample. I'll run him across to the tissue culture and microscopy suites. Coming?

He plonks a glass beaker over Tiny Sacrifice, and slides a sheet of flat cardboard under the beaker. Then he inverts it.

Tiny Sacrifice is tipped upside down.

He vows that if he ever gets out of the beaker he will puncture young Richard Ligon.

Young Richard Ligon takes Gaius, Griff and Tiny Sacrifice across to a well equipped tissue culture suite.

Most impressive, says Gaius. I had no idea...

Yes, says young Richard Ligon. It's a good Department. It's also home to the Barbados National Herbarium and the Giant African Snail Project.

I should like to see the Herbarium, says Gaius.

First things first, says Griff. The tissue culture.

It may take a while, says young Richard Ligon. I can do it. Why don't you guys go for a wander? The Herbarium's that way.

Well, why not? It's not often you get to see a comprehensive collection of dried Caribbean plants.

And the walk should speed up the drying of Gaius's trousers.

Griff and Gaius leave the tissue culture suite and head off to find the Herbarium.

Young Richard Ligon removes the cardboard.

Tiny Sacrifice is ready. Like a coiled spring, he springs out.

Fuck! says young Richard Ligon as his finger is punctured.

That's for EVERYTHING! says Tiny Sacrifice, whose voice is developing.

Young Richard Ligon stops himself from crushing Tiny Sacrifice, although he deserves it.

Scientific reputation comes first.

Care to elucidate? says young Richard Ligon.

What's that mean? asks Tiny Sacrifice, who has a meagre vocabulary.

Anything, says young Richard Ligon. Give me a list.

The white stick, says Tiny Sacrifice. I hate you. I want my mother.

Yes! Now he's getting somewhere. Perhaps young Richard Ligon will publish a peer reviewed paper on the rediscovery of the Barbados racer. Starting with the mother.

Who is your mother?

The man with wet trousers.

No. He can't be your mother. She must be a female.

But he was the first face I saw.

Imprinting. Forget it. Look here, hold still, will you. One scrape, and then we'll go and find your mother.

Oo! Okay.

Tiny Sacrifice is no match for the ambition of young Richard Ligon.

While His Mouth Is Open

I don't know you, says Griff.

Richard Ligon, says young Richard Ligon.

Impossible, says Griff. Richard Ligon was sixty years old.

When you knew him, says young Richard Ligon.

When he came to Barbados, says Griff. I didn't know him.

He was my squillionth-generations-ago great grandpa, says young Richard Ligon.

Is there a tap? asks Gaius. If I may interrupt your reunion.

Sink's over there, says young Richard Ligon, pointing to a lab sink with taps.

Gaius pulls out the slimy handkerchief.

You don't say, says Griff. And how did you know me?

Folk memory, says young Richard Ligon.

Griff looks confused.

Facebook, says young Richard Ligon.

I'm not on Facebook, says Griff.

No? says young Richard Ligon, placing his empty banana leaf on a bench top.

Which will turn out lucky, as we shall soon learn.

Ach! cries Gaius. The snake's hatched already!

Brea..k..fast, whispers Tiny Sacrifice. His voice is not fully developed.

Is that a baby Barbados racer? asks young Richard Ligon.

Oho, says Griff. Your squillionth grandpa would be proud of you. He was the first Brit to record one.

I know, says young Richard Ligon. But they're extinct now. Or so we thought.

That's why we're here, says Gaius. To organise a DNA test. We have reason to believe that this baby is a cross-species baby.

It looks hungry, says young Richard Ligon. Pity I finished my conkie.

He picks up Tiny Sacrifice and places him on the banana leaf.

Tiny Sacrifice sniffs, and licks the banana leaf with his tongue.

Euw. Raspy.

Except for half a raisin.

He eats the half raisin.

Lucky.

But that's not the end of the story.

Gaius has taken off his trousers and is running them under the tap, before squeezing them out.

Griff is catching up on gossip with young Richard Ligon.

I thought Richard Ligon never married, or had any children.

Now you know different.

Gaius is trying to put on his trousers, while hopping.

Tiny Sacrifice is coughing.

Hic! Cuh! Cuh!

This would be a good time to take a swab for the DNA test, while his mouth is open.

Young Richard Ligon, whips out a cotton bud.

Pokes it in.

Tiny Sacrifice thinks the cotton bud must be extra breakfast.

Noooo! Too late!

He swallows it. Glup glup.

Tiny Sacrifice is stiff as a board.

If It Hatches We'll Have To Feed It.

Right, says Gaius. Early breakfast, and then we cycle up to the University of the West Indies.

Right, says Griff. How's the specimen?

Gaius feels in the pocket of his chinos.

Through the cloth of Griff's handkerchief, the snake egg is warmly pulsating.

Gaius pulls the stained handkerchief out of his pocket.

Unfolds it. The two naturalists peer at the specimen.

It's cracking, says Griff. Is that good or bad?

Bad, says Gaius. If it hatches, we'll have to feed it.

Tiny Sacrifice likes the sound of IF IT HATCHES and WE'LL HAVE TO FEED IT.

He pushes harder, trying to HATCH before breakfast.

But it isn't easy, because Tiny Sacrifice is puny.

He is wrapped up again, still struggling to find his way out to a breakfast.

Soon Gaius and Griff are cycling up Cave Hill.

The University of the West Indies is situated on a coral escarpment overlooking the sea.

At the gate two important people are talking.

Enjoy your Easter break, Violet, says Winston Tinto.

And you too, Winston, says Violet Eudine Barriteau.

Winston turns to walk off in the opposite direction to the Principal.

She holds him back.

Before you go, Winston. I had a call this morning from a Mr Secundus. He wanted to see you. I put him off.

Secundus.... Secundus, says Professor Tinto. That rings a bell. But thanks for putting him off. Fancy anyone turning up at Easter.

Yes, fancy, says Violet Eudine Barriteau. But the thing is, Winston, he insisted on coming, with a hybrid snake egg specimen he's collected. So I told him to go to your research lab. I hope you don't mind.

Yes that's fine, says Professor Tinto. Young Ligon will deal with it. Give him something to do. Keen as mustard. He'll be here all weekend.

Very good. Well, have a good Easter. See you on Tuesday.

Indeed. You too, Violet.

Ten minutes later Griff and Gaius turn up in front of the University of the West Indies.

Nice view, says Griff, turning round to admire it.

Potential disaster! says Gaius, not turning. A smell of spoiled chocolate is wafting up from his side pocket, mixed with old phlegm and snot, and something eggy....

We must find the Department of Biological and Chemical Sciences, says Gaius. And a tap, as a priority.

Griff sees an information board.

The two men wheel their bicycles towards the Department.

Gaius is absently patting his pocket.

There there.

Tiny Sacrifice likes being patted. He can feel it because he's half way out of the egg now.

A young man is standing outside the research lab, eating a snack.

Young man! says Gaius. We urgently need your assistance.

I'll just finish my conkie, says young Richard Ligon.

He takes another bite of his conkie.

Cornflour mixed with coconut, spices, sugar and pumpkin with added raisins, steamed and wrapped in a banana leaf. A traditional Bajan favourite.

In Gaius's pocket, Tiny Sacrifice fights with the handkerchief.

Young Richard Ligon stares at the thrashing pocket.

He quickly swallows the last of his snack.

Okay, come in guys, says young Richard Ligon.

You look familiar, says Griff.

I should do, Griffith Hughes, says young Richard Ligon. Don't you know me?

Long Night Passes Into DNA

Reception has finished his duties.

He is free to go home.

He turns on the sand, and damn! sees a piece of grilled flying fish that a party-goer discarded.

Strictly speaking, it should go back to the kitchen.

But there's plenty of room in the sea.

He picks up the grilled flying fish, and heads down to the frothy sea edge.

Someone come and GET me!

He peers into the darkness.

A small cement head is half submerged in the water.

Swoosh-shwerp. The water recedes for a moment, revealing Terence, his cutlass shorts clean.

Turn around, kid, says Reception.

FINALLY! says Terence. No one came!

I came, says Reception. But not for you. I'm chucking this piece of grilled fish in the water. Want it?

NO! says Terence.  I want to go home. I want Grandpa! I want my lost parrots.

Aw, says Reception. How many parrots?

Terence lists all his lost parrots. They don't all sound like proper parrots.

The last one is Nose.

Nose, says Reception. I met that one. She was a bandicoot.

She was TRYING to be a parrot, says Terence. Then she got pirate pantaloons and turned into a pirate.

It ain't that easy, says Reception.

It was easy for her, says Terence.

I bet it wasn't, says Reception. A pirate's life is hard. She's probably sorry.

This is a good thing to say. Nose is probably sorry.

Terence brightens, and stops feeling resentful.

.......

The long night becomes shorter.

Tangerine and Mastigo drop Kobo at the hotel, before they head off to Gun Hill.

Say hi to the lion, says Kobo.

Shizz! The lion! says Tangerine. I promised him a can of red paint.

He doesn't deserve it, says Mastigo. He failed in his duty.

True, says Tangerine. His ball can stay brown a bit longer.

......

Kobo turns to see Ageless watching her, slit-ways.

Where's Terence? asks Kobo.

Taken care of, says Ageless. Come to beddie-byes, beloved. I want you to look at my crack.

It's a dent, not a crack, says Kobo.

But it's getting bigger, says Ageless. Come, sweet pea,,,,,clik,,,,,clik,,,,,

She comes.

........

Gaius and Griff are in bed already. They are sharing a twin room. Snoring in unison.

Tiny Sacrifice lies in his swaddle tucked inside the pocket of Gaius' chinos.

Waiting for his DNA test tomorrow.

Snakes Think Like That

It was a bad idea to take Terence.

Terence is slow. He keeps stopping to pick red curled up fruit skins from his cutlass shorts.

Hurry up, says Mastigo. What's the matter?

These are new shorts, says Terence.

They don't look new, says Mastigo.

I was sick on them, says Terence.

Go into the sea, says Mastigo. Wash it off.

Terence has never been told to go into the sea in the dark before. He is usually told not to.

He scampers down to where the surf froths gently in the moonlight.

Mastigo peers into the darkness ahead.

Yes, he can see something writhing. He moves forward.

.....

Mastigo! says Tangerine. You came. I was beginning to wonder.

You expected me? says Mastigo.

Of course. You sent the invitation.

I did? Yes.... I did. I'm late because there was an incident. I went to your snake hole.

To meet me? O, I wish I had waited.

So do I. Something happened to our youngest.

An accident! What's happened to Tiny?

Not an accident. A pact. Tiny was sacrificed to save the others.

I don't understand, darling. Save them from what?

From a couple of scientists, says Mastigo. Digging.

That's not the whole story, says Kobo.

Ho! Who are you? asks Mastigo. The other woman? You look like a clam.

Kobo, says Kobo. I've been here all along. Tangerine and I have been running. Well, she has. Not running... gliding. She held me aloft....

Spare me the details, says Mastigo.

I have a confession to make, says Kobo. I know those scientists. They are natural historians, and they wanted a DNA sample, and now they have got one, and it's my fault.

Couldn't be, says Tangerine. You're too sweet. Mastigo has already admitted to making the pact. What did you get in return for our baby, Mastigo?

The address of the beach party, says Mastigo.

But you already knew it! says Tangerine. You prize idiot!

Uh-huh, says Mastigo. (To agree seems the best option).

It's good that Tangerine isn't too bothered about losing Tiny.

Six is still a large family.

And Tiny was the runtiest.

Hey!

Snakes think like that.

.....

In the sea froth, Terence has lost his sense of direction.

Hey! Someone! he cries. Come and get me!

Ageless hears the faint cry.

No way he's going to put himself out over Terence. Let him stay there.

He drags himself back to the light of the glittering canopy.

Reception is packing things up.

There's something down there in the water, says Ageless.

You don't say, says Reception.

So. He's made the effort.

No one can blame him.

Ageless thinks like that.

The Club Of Jilted Lovers

Follow me, says Terence.

Mastigo is not fond of following, but he follows.

Terence trudges through the sand to the spot where he last saw Kobo.

Ageless is there.

Masteego? sneers Ageless. Welcome to the club of jilted lovers.

Mastigo is taken aback.

He's a poet, says Terence. Like me.

We're all poets, mutters Ageless. That's half  the trouble.

Ho! says Mastigo. What do you mean?

Seems they all love Picasso, says Ageless. Freedom. Painting. Running on the beach with their hair back, when they don't even have hair. Or legs.

Do you mean Tangerine? asks Mastigo.

Hear that? says Terence. Mean Tangerine.

Very clever, says Ageless. But what good is it? Our women are off in the moonlight, entangled somewhere, sand in their orifices.....

Entangled, says Mastigo. Orifices? This is alarming. Which way? Can you say?

Terence likes this one. He tries to come up with one of his own. Kobo will know. But he can't use the same one again.

I'd say.... that way, says Ageless pointing.

Anyone who knows Ageless (except Terence) will know that Ageless is pointing in the opposite direction to that taken by his beloved and her paramour.

Ho! says Mastigo. And then again. But.... no.

He sits down beside Ageless.

I have a confession to make.

He's a snake, says Terence.

Not much of a confession, says Ageless.

It's a rhyme, bumhead, says Terence.

A confession, continues Mastigo. May I run it by you?

Go ahead, says Ageless. I'm not busy.

In order to find out where Tangerine was, I sacrificed one of our babies, says Mastigo.

Ageless is delighted. Mastigo is a complete bastard.

On second thoughts, says Ageless. I believe they went that way.

Thank you, says Mastigo. But what is your frank opinion?

Definitely that way, says Ageless.

No, about my behaviour, says Mastigo.

I have no opinion, says Ageless, but Tangerine will have an opinion. And so will my beloved. You may lose her. But if you lose her, I may lose my little cream puff, for I believe they are attracted....

No opinion, says Mastigo. That's good. Coming Terence?

Yes! Terence has finally got one.

The coolest rhyme ever.

Let's you and me go, Mastigo!

They go.

Yes And No And Now No

Under the shimmering canopy, on the beach, drinks are flowing.

Some people have put their drinks down.

And then they have forgotten where they put them.

And some drinks are red.

Terence has drained every one of them.

So Terence is as happy as the grownups.

I used to live in a palace, says Terence to Markus.

O ho ho ho, says Markus. What palace was that?

Let me guess, says Chad. A cathedral?

Yes and no, says Terence. And now no. I live in nowhere.

You can't live in nowhere, says Tamer.

We do, says Engin. At the moment.

Very existential, says Chad. To live in nowhere. Do you like philosophy, little fellow?

Yes, says Terence. My Grandpa invented philosophy.

O really? says Fynbo. Who is your grandpa?

Grandpa Marx, says Terence. And Pablo invented it too.

Pablo?

When his dog died.

Ah, Pablo Neruda.

And I know a poem. says Terence. I made it up.

Is it a sad one?  asks Fynbo.

No, happy, says Terence. It goes:

My bird died
I buried it under a bucket
And it's not going anywhere.

Everyone laughs. Then everyone is silent.

Not because they are thinking of the post-life implications of Terence's poem, or why it is happy.

But because it is time for the awards presentation.

Mr Thomas Hume is getting one, for Sales Company of the Year, (Australia and New Zealand).

Which is why he is here.

Terence wanders away from the canopy. He feels a bit wooshy.

Slurp slurp, something inside his belly is moving

He heads into the darkness. Vomits. Sits down nearby.

A snake careers past him, turns sharply and stops.

Ho! says Mastigo (for it is he). Have you seen Tangerine?

Terence thinks that would make a good poem.

He tries to think of an answer.

I haven't seen Tangerine.

Then where is she? continues Mastigo. I'm a snake with a confession to make.

Terence likes poetry. And that was a good poem. But he needs to be moving.

The sand is sticky and smelly and red.

Let's go, says Terence. Kobo will know.

Good rhyming, says Mastigo. Four, including the double.

If Terence hadn't realised it before, he realises it now.

Mastigo's a smart arse.

Tiny Sacrifice

Griff and Mastigo are deep in negotiation.

Two eggs for the name of the beach, wheedles Griff.

I only have seven, says Mastigo. Maybe I don't need the name of the beach.

Oh, you need it, says Griff. She's a party girl, your Barbados racer.

As if he would know.

But it is working.

One egg, says Mastigo. My final offer.

We'll take it says Gaius.

Mastigo re-enters the snake hole.

Looks at his babies.

Which one?

....

Do you have a tissue? asks Gaius.

A tissue, says Griff. Why? Are you weeping?

No, I'm not weeping, says Gaius. What makes you think that?

I know, says not-Henry Wilkinson. He's weeping with remorse, for causing the death of a baby.

Perhaps he would be, if he were, says Griff. He claims he isn't. So why the need for a tissue?

To wrap the egg in, says Gaius. Do you expect me to shove it carelessly into my pocket? I'm not heartless.

Noble thinking, says Griff. I applaud you. Have this handkerchief. I've only used one corner. That one.

Contamination, says Gaius. May affect DNA. Put the handkerchief away, Griff.

While you've got it out, says not-Henry Wilkinson, would you do me a favour? Wipe the chocolate off my ball. I'm having a paint job.

Not before time, says Griff.

He licks a clean corner of his handkerchief to wet it, rubs at the chocolate. Curved pieces drop onto the grass.

Mastigo emerges with his sickliest baby.

They aren't to know.

Here, says Mastigo. This is Tiny Sacrifice. Treat him well. Now, at which beach is my Tangerine cavorting?

The beach opposite the Waves Resort Hotel, says Griff, receiving Tiny Sacrifice greedily.

Mastigo shoots off down Gun Hill.

Cavorting, says not-Henry Wilkinson. He certainly has got the wind up.

Let me see the egg, says Gaius.

Griff hands Tiny Sacrifice to Gaius.

Tiny Sacrifice lies in the palm of his hand. Gaius feels Tiny Sacrifice pulsing.

We must keep him warm, says Gaius. Beggars can't be choosers. Give me the handkerchief.

Griff gives him the handkerchief, now stained with both snot and dark chocolate.

Gaius wraps Tiny Sacrifice in the swaddle, and shoves it into his pocket.

Through his soft porous egg shell, Tiny Sacrifice sniffs warm snot and chocolate.

Tiny Sacrifice has never felt so cherished.

Screwing An Egg Out

Half an hour passes. Mastigo does not come.

Tangerine, Kobo and Ageless watch the Gala Dinner, from the shadows.

Terence has found himself, by chance, at the edge of the canopy.

Due to careless dancing.

Someone should go and get Terence, says Kobo.

Not me, says Tangerine. They put me in a sack last time.

Not me, says Ageless. Terence can look after himself.

And he can. Mrs Thomas-Hume has seen him.

Terence! she cries. Come over here, baby!

He dances over, in his cutlass shorts. The little cherub.

Hey, says Markus. No kids allowed at the party.

It's all right, says Mrs Thomas-Hume. Feel him.

Markus has no intention of feeling a random baby.

But on close inspection, he does look cementy. A statue. That must be okay.

Terence is in. But Kobo, Ageless and Tangerine are still on the outer.

Let's wander up the beach, Tangerine, says Kobo. We might meet Mastigo. You wait here, Ageless.

Oho!

Ageless suspects a female conspiracy.

They will wander up the beach to meet Mastigo. And then what? A three way liaison.

I'll come with you, says Ageless. Wouldn't want to miss Mast-ee-go.

True, says Kobo. You stay here, in case he arrives from the other direction.

It's logical. He may well arrive from the other direction. Or even another one. He may emerge from the office.

But we all know he's not coming.

...

Mastigo is coming.

He is up at Gun Hill. He visits often, waiting for news of his babies.

He never speaks to Tangerine. He speaks to the lion. It's safer. Tangerine has a temper.

Hello, Henry Wilkinson, says Mastigo.

Not-Henry Wilkinson, says the lion. It was a misunderstanding.

I know all about them, says Mastigo. Any news of the babies?

Just so happens I'm in charge of  the babies tonight, says not-Henry.

Ho! says Mastigo. That's nice. Hey! Does that mean she's out, then?

Yes, says not-Henry.

Can I see the babies? asks Mastigo. Just for a minute?

Okay, says not-Henry. Go in.

No wonder the Empire is cactus.

Mastigo wriggles in.

There are the babies, still in their eggs in the corner.

He counts them, touching them with the tip of his tail, one by one, tenderly.

Seven.

Sweet dreams my children, says Mastigo. Your mummy is out, but....

He wriggles out again quickly.

Where IS she? asks Mastigo.

Beach party, says not-Henry Wilkinson. I'd get down there, if I were you.

Which beach? asks Mastigo.

But not-Henry doesn't know.

Creak creak.

Gauis and Griff have laid down their bicycles, and are creeping towards the lion.

Ss-ssss! says Mastigo. It works usually.

She's back! says Griff.

Impossible, says Gaius. She could not have travelled this far uphill in under an hour.

Then it's another snake, says Griff. Yes, there, look!

Mastigo is acting aggressive.

Gaius thinks quickly.

This could be Mastigodryas bruesi. If he could get closer and squeeze his privates......

Patience, Gaius.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking? asks Griff.

Yes, says Gaius. I believe so.

But he isn't. Griff is thinking that this is a godsend. This snake must be the father. The father has access to the snake hole, and therefore the eggs. The mother is down on the beach at a party. The father will not know where she is, but no doubt he would like to.

He and Gaius have that information.

Go for it! That's what the Lord said.

Leave it to me, says Griff. I'll screw an egg out of him. We seem to have God on our side.

He Is Coming

Tangerine is inside a sack under the desk at reception.

Reception is calling someone, on the phone.

Yes... no... I don't know....okay, first thing in the morning.

He glances down at the sack. All quiet.

He'd better head back to the beach. Cook is gesticulating. The pickled cucumber and coleslaw salad with raisins and cherries won't get out there by itself.

He has only taken a step when Gaius and Griff drift past the desk, heading for their bicycles.

Reception remembers that both men are natural historians.

(It's his job to remember).

Mr Hughes! Mr Secundus! Got a snake here. Want to see it? It might be a rare one.

Gaius is not alarmed, though he should be.

Griff is. He nudges Gaius. What if it's the Barbados racer? She was invited.

Reception is opening the sack.

Tangerine is lying as if dead, as a safety precaution.

Gaius pokes her. Lifts her up.

She dangles.

Most interesting, says Gaius. It could well be a Barbados racer, or Erytholamprus perfuscus. On the other hand, they are often confused with Mastigodryas bruesi. Let me examine it further.

He presses the back of her eyes.

Mastigo has large eyes, says Gaius, and Duvernoy's glands. which contrary to common belief are not filled with venom, but its secretions are nonetheless toxic.....

Griff nods, as though he knows these things also.

Reception is itching to get away to deliver the coleslaw.

Gaius is squeezing Tangerine in her privates. Aha, A female! In a way, this is a pity, as the male Mastigo has a hemipenis, retractable and spiked, which I should have liked to examine, never having seen one.

Tangerine shivers. She has seen one.

But, says Gaius I come to the conclusion that this is most likely a Barbados racer, and as such, a rare find, Well done, Reception. May I take charge of it? I'll deliver it to the University Biology department in the morning.

Yes, sir, says Reception. Only too happy.  May I go now?

Of course, says Gaius. Leave it to me.

Griff nudges Gaius.

He whispers: What of our egg plan?

True, says Gaius. We'll leave the snake here with Ageless and Kobo. At least we can be sure where she is now.

Tangerine has no objections.

......

Back again? says Kobo. What happened?

A thrilling adventure, says Tangerine. Has Mastigo turned up yet?

Not yet, says Kobo.

Who's this Mastigo? asks Ageless.

Her romantic tree snake lover, says Kobo, and father of her eggs. He is coming.

What, Kobo? You know he's not coming........

Soup, Sack And Prong

The sun sets.

On the beach in front of the hotel, a colourful canopy has been erected.

Festooned with lanterns.

Tables set with white tablecloths.

Soup spoons.

What?

Soup spoons. There is soup on the menu.

Look at that, says Kobo, observing.

At what? grumbles Ageless. His dent is aching.

Soup spoons. They must be going to have soup. It's a proper sit down. How will that suit the Barbados racer? Do snakes sit down?

Kobo, beloved, says Ageless. She is no more invited than you are. Your imagination runs riot.

Oh yes, says Kobo. I keep on forgetting. I wonder when she'll turn up, and what she'll be wearing.

Ageless sighs. Kobo has been less astute since she came to Barbados.

Terence is dancing about in the sand.

Look, a big pot's coming!

Reception is carrying a large soup tureen and placing it on a side table.

Several people walk across from the hotel to the canopy, dressed in fresh clothes.

They chat loudly about Otometrics, sales targets and their children, who are not in Barbados.

Drinks are served, decorated with flowers, straws and paper umbrellas.

It is so lovely. Where is the Barbados racer?

Kobo looks into the darkness that surrounds the bright shimmering centre.

Ah. Here she is now.

.......

I smell soup, says the Barbados racer. I like soup.

Me too, says Terence. But only red soup.

It smells like cream of yellow split pea with bread and butter, says the Barbados racer.

Hello, dear, says Kobo. You came.

I was invited, says the Barbados racer. Who's your friend?

Ageless lobster, meet the Barbados racer, says Kobo.

Tangerine, says the Barbados racer.

Another smell? says Ageless rudely. He has taken an instant dislike to the Barbados racer. Tangerine! O yes. An adventuress of the old school.

She ignores him.

I'll just pop over and see where I'm sitting, says Tangerine. Excuse me.

She slithers over the sand to the bright canopy, where the soup is.

Various screams are heard, from the early arrivals.

Reception legs it back to the office and returns with a sack, and a prong.

Tangerine Masterminds

I'm off, says Mrs Thomas-Hume. Got to dry my hair for the party. Terence, I'll see you tomorrow.

I'm off too, says Mr Thomas Hume. You did well, Terence. See you tomorrow.

What about tonight? asks Terence. The beach party.

It's not for children, says Mr Thomas-Hume firmly. It's our Gala Dinner and awards night.

Plop, says Terence.

Kobo is thinking the same.

Gaius is not best pleased either.

Who will mind Terence when he and Griff slip away?

I don't suppose... begins Gaius, looking at Ageless.

Keep on not supposing, says Ageless.

Terence can stay with me, says Kobo. We'll hang out on the beach near the party, and watch the proceedings.

Yay! says Terence. I'm going to the party.

Ageless backtracks a little.

He might rock up to the edge of the party, if Kobo is going.

........

In her snake hole on Gun Hill, the Barbados racer is getting ready for the party.

She doesn't have to do much.

She says goodbye to her babies.

Be good, mummy's going out for a while. The lion will guard you.

She emerges from the snake hole. It is late afternoon.

Going somewhere? growls not-Henry Wilkinson.

A beach party, says the Barbados racer. Keep an eye on my babies.

Babies, what babies? says not-Henry Wilkinson. And the answer is no.

That doesn't make sense, says the Barbados racer. Is this about chocolate?

Yes it is about chocolate, says not-Henry Wilkinson. You should have thought, before you masterminded that jape.

The ball looks better, dark brown, observes the Barbados racer. More subtle.

I liked it red, says the lion. It represented the Empire.

It was faded and tawdry, says the Barbados racer. Tell you what, if I promised to bring back some paint, would you mind my babies?

What colour? asks not-Henry Wilkinson.

They're creamy white, says the Barbados racer. They are still in their eggs.

What colour paint? says the lion.

Is she stupid?

Red, says the Barbados racer.

No, she is not stupid.

Okay, says not-Henry Wilkinson.

Ha! He is thick.

Meeting a boyfriend? asks not-Henry Wilkinson.

At least he's observant.

Maybe, says the Barbados racer.

Good luck, Barbados racer, says not-Henry Wilkinson.

Call me Tangerine, says the Barbados racer.

She sets off down the hill, thinking of handsome Mastigo, who gave her that name......

Cat Luck Ain't Dog Luck

Terence had liked walking backwards.

With Ageless ahead of him, it was like walking all by himself.

He had started humming.

This had enraged Ageless further.

Stop humming! Ageless had said.

Terence had pretended that Ageless had not said anything, and kept on humming.

Ageless had stopped walking.

Terence had bumped into Ageless, and put a dent in his carapace.

It wasn't Terence's fault.

But Ageless was mad.

Ah, there you are Ageless! says Gaius. And young Terence. It seems you've been lucky.

I'll give him lucky, grinds Ageless.

Ageless! cries Kobo. We've been up to Gun Hill and back. What have you been doing?

I'm injured, says Ageless. Do I need a plaster?

Let me see, says Kobo. No you don't need a plaster. Just take it easy until your next moulting. Sit down. You too, Terence. Gaius was telling me about the mongoose.

No, I'm going sailing, says Terence. With them.

He points at the wet Thomas-Humes.

You're wet, says Terence.

Yes, dear, says Mrs Thomas-Hume. We have been sailing already. Our catamaran flipped over. That's why you're lucky.

But she knows Terence won't think he is lucky.

She is the mother of Fish, and Fish wouldn't.

Terence starts wailing.

Ageless smirks in the background.

Serves him right, little slacker.

Tell you what, says Mrs Thomas-Hume, brightly (perhaps over-brightly). Tomorrow were going on a catamaran cruise down the West Coast, stopping for snorkelling and swimming. Would you like to come with us?

A-hem, coughs Mr Thomas-Hume, isn't that asking for trouble? Remember his previous drownings?

I'll obey the instructions, says Terence. No more drownings.

So hopeful, he looks, promising to obey the instructions.

And Mr Thomas-Hume misses his children.

They too sometimes look hopeful.

All right, says Mr Thomas-Hume. Here is a test though. Sit down quietly and listen to Gaius describing the mongoose.

Gaius is pleased that his knowledge of the mongoose forms part of the test as to whether Terence can follow instructions.

Everyone sits down, including Terence. Even Reception stops wiping tables to listen.

The mongoose, says Gaius, is an aggressive weasel-like creature. It eats insects, lizards, rats and snakes. It was brought to Barbados to get rid of the rats in the sugar plantations. But the plan failed, because the mongoose tends to hunt in the morning, while the rat feasts at night.

So the mongoose ate the snakes, says Kobo.

Cat luck ain't dog luck, says Reception.

Yes, it's an old Bajan saying....

X Others

At the Waves Resort Hotel, there is no sign of Terence, or Ageless.

Probably still out on the catamaran, says Gaius. I hope nothing has happened.

Why should it? asks Griff. They were with the Thomas-Humes.

I thought I spotted an upturned catamaran in the harbour, as we were descending Gun Hill, says Gaius.

There must be dozens, says Griff.

Dozens, agrees Gaius. No doubt we shall hear soon enough.

Kobo remembers the last time she saw Ageless and Terence.

Terence was walking backwards, and Ageless was cross.

Shall we treat ourselves to a coffee? asks Griff.

Meaning? says Gaius.

I'll pay, says Griff.

In that case, yes, says Gaius. I'll bring my notebook. We'll go over what we've learned so far.

They head for the Kyma Coffee Bar, in the hotel. It has a fine view of the water.

Kobo goes with them.

Gaius searches for a pencil. He can't find one.

I'll see if I can acquire one, says Griff.

Very good, says Gaius. You are shaping up to be a regular Arthur.

Griff goes off to acquire a pencil.

There's no such thing as a regular Arthur, says Kobo.

Gaius reflects. She is right.

What does a mongoose look like? asks Kobo, while they are waiting.

You don't know? says Gaius. That surprises me. You are an avid reader and there are mongooses throughout literature.

Mongooses, says Kobo. Not mongeese?

Certainly not, says Gaius. The name comes from the Marathi word munguus. It was corrupted by the English, into mongoose. But even the English were uncomfortable with mongeese. They got around the plural by referring to 'one mongoose and x others'.

Clever, says Kobo. And what do they look like?

The English? A lot better than they used to, says Gaius.

No, the mongoose and x others, says Kobo.

Ha ha, laughs Gaius. X others!

Well? says Kobo.

But just then, the Thomas-Humes arrive, with wet hair, and towels round their shoulders.

Hello, says Mrs Thomas Hume. We had a bit of a disaster. The catamaran we were sailing flipped over.

Dear me, says Gaius. What happened to Terence?

Terence? says Mrs Thomas-Hume. Isn't he with you?

No, says Gaius. He was with Ageless. They were planning to go out with you.

Lucky they didn't, says Mrs Thomas-Hume. Terence would have sunk to the bottom.

For the third time this trip, says Gaius.

Good heavens, says Mrs Thomas-Hume. He is accident prone. So where is he?

I'll ask Reception if they've seen him, says Mr Thomas-Hume.

Mr Thomas-Hume goes out to Reception. Griff is there, borrowing a pencil.

Reception is making him sign for it, so it can be added to Gaius's bill.

Griff is not as good as Arthur at obtaining a pencil.

Mr Thomas-Hume is about to ask Reception if he has seen Terence, when Ageless appears, hot and bothered and furiously angry.

A long way behind him is Terence, still walking backwards.

He doesn't yet know he is lucky.

Pokee Pokoo

ROAAAR!

A large crowd gathers.

Was that the lion?

Not-Henry Wilkinson holds his pose.

But his stone brain is fuming. Brown chocolate runs down his red ball.

Children are sticking their fingers in it, and licking.

Their mothers are pulling them back.

Max! Isabella! Stop that immediately!

But mummy, it's chocolate!

Yes. Dark chocolate. It's too strong for you.

Inside her snake hole the Barbados racer is doubled up with laughter.

That will teach not-Henry Wilkinson.

What a day it has been.

She starts humming an old racer lullaby to her babies. La la pokee, la la pokoo....

Outside Gaius and Griff can do little but beat a retreat.

We'll return when it's quiet, says Gaius. I must obtain one of those eggs.

How about tonight? says Griff. Under cover of darkness.

No! says Kobo It's the beach party. And anyway, she's not going to let you take one of her babies. She dotes on them.

Does she? says Griff. That's nice to hear.

It may be, says Gaius, but it poses a question. How shall we do it? You met her, Kobo. Any ideas?

Invite her to the beach party, says Kobo.

It's a splendid idea.

Excellent, says Gaius. Will you go back in and invite her?

No, says Kobo. Just write her a note. I don't want to have to pretend I'm not betraying her. And I will be.

I don't see it makes any difference, says Gaius. But I'll write her a note if it makes you feel better.

Sign it Mastigo, says Kobo. She'll come.

Mastigo? Against his better judgement Gaius writes, on a page of his note pad:

You are invited to a party tonight on the beach in front of the Waves Resort Hotel. Dress code informal. Please come. Mastigo.

He tears it off, folds it and shoves it deep into the snake hole.

The children watch him do it.

Crazy man.

Coasting down Gun Hill in the afternoon sunshine, Gaius and Griff enjoy the view of the south western end of the island. The cane fields, the palm and mahogany trees, the white sands, the sparkling blue water, the marine craft, a catamaran or two, upturned and in trouble...

Kobo assesses her role in the current proceedings.

No. Its too awful.

But one little egg.

Out of how many?

I don't know. But if they haven't hatched by now, best to leave one of them to science.

Yes, no one would argue.

And tonight the Barbados racer will come to the party.

If Mastigo doesn't show (and why would he?) the Barbados racer will feel sad, then angry, then reckless.

It's simple psychology.

And then.... anything might happen

Betrayed By Chocolate And Science

Well done, Griff! says Gaius, when Griff shows him the photo.

It was more luck than good judgement, says Griff.

Nonetheless, says Gaius, we now have evidence of the Barbados racer. We must investigate further.

Kobo may have something useful, says Griff.

A large piece of Cacao Grenada, says Gaius. I see it.

He bends down to question Kobo.

Did you have words with the snake?

I did, replies Kobo.

Describe her snake hole, says Gaius. What was in it?

It was dark, says Kobo. And you know I can't see.

You can see when you want to, says Gaius. But I shall not pursue it.

Ask her why she's come out with the chocolate, says Griff.

(Wise move Griff. Different angle).

Why have you? asks Gaius. Didn't she want it?

She was delighted, says Kobo. And she has a request.

What is it? asks Gaius.

She wants us to place the chocolate on top of Henry Wilkinson's ball.

Whatever for? says Gaius. It'll melt there.

That's the idea, says Kobo. She wants to annoy a certain person.

I am annoyed, says Gaius. That's expensive chocolate.

You seem to have had quite an intimate conversation, says Griff.

You don't know the half of it, says Kobo.

Oh! says Griff. And what is the other half of it?

I can't say, says Kobo.

I paid for the chocolate, says Gaius. I deserve more than this collusive female silence.

Kobo knows he is right. He paid for the chocolate. Furthermore he paid for the trip to Barbados. Had he not done so, she would not be here, looking  forward to a beach party this evening, under the stars. And then there are the higher interests of BIOLOGICAL SCIENCE.... it is a story that deserves to be told, but she doesn't like to betray the Barbados racer....

Well? says Gaius.

Put the chocolate on top of the ball, says Kobo.

Gaius nods in the direction of the chocolate. Griff places the chocolate on top of the ball. It is a hot afternoon, and the chocolate is already softening.

Not-Henry Wilkinson sniffs it suspiciously.

Well, says Kobo. This is a story of inter-species relations. Resulting in eggs.

EGGS! says Gaius. There are eggs in the snake hole! Why didn't you say so!

She just said so, says Griff. This is a turn up!

She also said inter-species, says Gaius. What other species?

I promised to keep it a secret, says Kobo.

Gaius has taken out his notebook. He looks earnest and scientific. Kobo is torn.

Strictly speaking, she had only promised not to mention the eggs. Not to keep Mastigo a secret.

Ah, the romance of the Barbados racer and Mastigo! They spoke of life the universe and the mongoose. And then they had sex.

(But what is a mongoose? she wonders).

Okay, says Kobo. In the interests of science I shall drop you a name: Mastigo Dryas.

Mastigodryas bruesi, says Gaius. I know it. An arboreal snake thought to be introduced, once abundant, not spotted since 1963, its decline coincides with the introduction of the mongoose.

At a less fraught moment she will ask him about the mongoose.

Yes, says Kobo. Mastigo is the father.

What a coup! says Gaius. I must get hold of one of those eggs and take it to the biology department of the local university.

Not now, says Kobo. The melting chocolate joke is about to happen. It should be funny.

Indeed, the chocolate is melting and running down over the ball.

Not-Henry Wilkinson is livid. His red ball is covered in dark chocolate!

ROAAARRR!

The Father Confused

Who is the father? asks Kobo, if you don't mind me asking. Only, I thought you were going extinct.

That's why you mustn't tell anyone about my babies, says the Barbados racer.

Are they imaginary? asks Kobo.

How sad.

No, on the contrary, says the Barbados racer. They are sort of......illegitimate. I know that's less important these days.

Totally unimportant, says Kobo. Why even say it?

You don't understand, says the Barbados racer. How could you?

Try me, says Kobo. Are you sure you won't have a piece of Cacao Grenada? It might help to relax you.

No thanks, dear, I have plans for the Cacao Grenada. But you are so empathetic. And furthermore, you are a clam. So I know you won't tell anyone.

Kobo is beside herself with impatience. What is the secret?

The father, says the Barbados racer, is a Mastigodryas bruesi.

Golly! says Kobo. What's that? A lizard?

Ah ha ha ha! laughs the Barbados racer. No, remind me not to get that desperate. Mastigo is an introduced species, from way back. He's an arboreal snake, whereas I'm a terrestrial. We have, on occasion, been confused.

Confused, says Kobo. In your relationship?

No, by the early naturalists, says the Barbados racer.

How did you meet? asks Kobo.

He dropped by, says the Barbados racer. He was doing a tree tour. He saw the lion, and was attracted by the red ball. It was pretty, then. Shiny, no scratches. I heard him reading the inscription out loud, It was so funny. He thought the lion was called Henry Wilkinson. The lion still believes it. Anyway we got talking about life, the universe and everything, including the mongoose, and one thing led to another.....

But that must have been ages ago, says Kobo. If the ball was so shiny.

It was, sighs the Barbados racer. Ages and ages.

And your eggs haven't hatched yet, says Kobo.

(Careful Kobo, not to tread on her dreams).

Not yet, says the Barbados racer. She sighs.

It's all just a tad too pathetic.

Even for the Barbados racer.

Oh well, eggs, shmeggs! Where's that chocolate?

She bustles about. The chocolate is half unwrapped already.

On your way out, dear, just place this chocolate on top of the red ball. The chocolate will melt and run down the ball and annoy Henry Wilkinson!

What a hilarious plan! says Kobo, glad that her friend has got over her troubles so quickly.

There's just one thing, I can't get out unless you move me.

Oh, of course dear, I was forgetting. But I don't want those naturalists out there taking photos. We must act like lightning.

She lifts Kobo up, with the chocolate, and shoves her outside.

This time Griff is ready with his camera.

Whirr click.

What has he captured?

Kobo, a large chunk of Cacao Grenada, and yes! a flash of brown snake skin with light lateral stripes to the rear.

Visions Of Eggs

The white stone lion risks a question.

And BIT?

Did you hear something? asks Gaius, who has pointlessly resumed scraping the hole.

I believe it came from the lion, says Griff. It said BIT. But it seemed like a question.

Gaius stops scraping.

The sound of tinkling laughter is heard from the depths of the snake hole.

Laughter, and the tearing of wrappings.

Gaius straightens and directly addresses the lion.

You have a question? I too have a question.

Me first, says the lion. it's about the meaning of Dominabitur.

Let him be ruled, says Gaius. Or let it be ruled. Interesting question.

That wasn't the question, says the lion.

Ask your question then, lion.

Henry Wilkinson, says the lion. That is my name. It is on the inscription.

That is the name of the sculptor, says Gaius. I see you don't know your Latin.

I thought I did, says not-Henry-Wilkinson.

Question! barks Griff.

BIT? says not-Henry-Wilkinson. It's not about biting?

Afraid not, says Gaius. It's just a verb ending, denoting a mood.

Not-Henry-Wilkinson paws his red ball, in sorrow or anger.

Hard to tell which.

It's something he does when he's unable to control his feelings.

Which happens when undisciplined children try to sit on him. Or the Eskimo curlew comes by.

And explains why the red ball reminds the Barbados racer of chipped nail polish.

Inside her hole, the Barbados racer is entertaining her guest.

They have discovered a mutual interest in Picasso.

Two Women Running On A Beach is my favourite, says Kobo.

Snap! Mine too, says the Barbados racer.  I often dream of doing it.

So do I, says Kobo.

Hear that? says the Barbados racer. That scratching?

That's probably Gaius, says Kobo.

It sounds like Henry Wilkinson, pawing, says the Barbados racer. Drives me mental!

Why do you stay? asks Kobo.

My babies are here, says the Barbados racer. But hush, it's a secret.

I won't tell, says Kobo. May I see them?

They're just eggs at the moment, says the Barbados racer.

She indicates a dark corner.

Kobo envisions the eggs.

He Shall Not Have Dominion

In her dark place under the lion, the Barbados racer hears scraping.

Someone is poking about with a stick.

She remembers that she is expecting some chocolate.

Who did the Eskimo curlew say was bringing it? Some random clam?

She edges forward.

Yes, a stick, knees and a smartphone. Beyond those things, on the grass,  a white paper bag with a bow.

The scraping stops for a moment, as Gaius is distracted.

Should she poke her head out? Is it the clam?

She ventures to the edge of the opening.

Gaius is saying: It's a Latin inscription.

Griff is saying: Of course, I know that.

Gaius: Dominabitur a mare ad mari, et a flumine usque ad terminos terrae.

Griff: He shall have dominion from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth.

Gaius: Wrong.

The Barbados racer has often pondered the meaning of the inscription outside her front door. Who is HE? It can't be the lion. He's never been anywhere. But why is it wrong?

Curiosity overcomes caution.

Pax! says the Barbados racer.

Ah! says Gaius. There she is! Griff, take a picture.

Whirr-click! Griff takes a picture. But it may be too late. The Barbados racer has retreated.

She said Pax, says Kobo. You should have waited.

The Barbados racer hears the soft clammy voice of Kobo.

She pokes her head out again.

We brought you some delicious chocolate, says Kobo.

You know I don't eat it? says the racer.

Mmm, says Kobo. Blame the sea snake. Or blame me, for going along with the sea snake.

I don't trust the sea snake, says the racer.

Nor did I, says Kobo. He tried to entice me into the water.

But you're a clam, you could have safely gone into the water.

The danger was him, not the water, says Kobo. He used inappropriate language.

Tell me about it, says the racer. Would you like to come in? I have some green tea in the pantry. Bring the chocolate.

I would, says Kobo, but as you see I must rely upon others for motion.

The racer darts out of her hole, wraps her self around Kobo, draws her inside. Then reverses and shoots her tail out to daintily pick up the bag with the chocolate.

Did you get ANY of that, Griff? asks Gaius.

No, says Griff. I was too slow. We'll have to wait until Kobo comes out now. Why did you say my Latin translation was wrong?

Dominabitur, says Gaius, is passive indicative. So the meaning is Let him be ruled. It's the -ur on the end that determines it.

Gracious! says Griff. That does change the meaning. Or....does it?

Good question, says Gaius. It all depends who He is. Perhaps it isn't the lion.

Just what I was thinking, says Griff.

It is not something the white coral stone lion has been thinking.