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