Irresponsible Poets

François-René de Chateaubriand opens a wooden door in the side of his tomb, and drags out a portable gas barbecue.

He rummages in a cool box, and produces two tenderloin beef fillets.

He searches in a dark corner for onions, and a bottle of merlot.

A knife and a saucepan.

He lights the barbecue, and waits while the hot plate heats up.

What can WE have? asks Terence.

Onions, says Arthur.

We don't like onions, says Terence.

We like red drinks, says Baldy.

You may be in luck then, says François-René.

.......

In Saint Malo old town, Gaius peers out over the ramparts, at the waves rolling in.

The tidal pool, the yellow sand, ladders, stairs and child friendly rocks are now covered.

Seagulls wheel in the sky.

One lands beside him.

Ah, Lefty, says Gaius. I believe you have something to tell me.

Lefty smirks.

To Gaius it looks like a normal seagull expression.

He waits for information.

Lefty says nothing, but jerks his head eastward.

What? says Gaius. Do you want me to follow you?

Lefty flies off, disappearing in spray.

It is most disconcerting.

.......

The steaks are ready. So is the wine sauce.

Arthur and Francois-René dig in, sharing the onion knife.

Apologies for the lack of cutlery, says Francois-René.

That's okay, says Arthur.

My signature dish, says François-René. Steak Chateaubriand.

Looks easy, says Arthur, scooping up onion sauce on the flat of the onion knife.

Pretty easy, says François- René. And the best part is you can sample the wine while you're preparing it....

...and then open another bottle, says Arthur.

Exactly, says Francois-René. Luckily I have a large cellar.

Can we have some? asks Terence.

If Belle was there, or Gaius, the answer would have been different, but here we have two irresponsible poets.

Sure, says François-René.

They settle back to wait for the sunset, which is not yet forthcoming.

What do you think of Belle? asks François-René.

She's sharp, says Arthur. She's good at picnics. She doesn't get mad easily.

The elegance of the palm tree and the delicacy of the reed, says François-René, drinking deeply from the bottle. Her white robe of mulberry bark waves slightly behind her, revealing her two heels of rose at each step.....

Is that from Les Natchez? asks Arthur (hoping it is, or his friend has dismal powers of observation).

Yes, says François-René. I was attempting a new kind of writing, for an exotic location.

How did it go? asks Arthur.

I kindled the imagination of a whole generation, says Francois-René. As you did.

I didn't, says Arthur. I gave up.

I give up, says Terence.

Me too, says Baldy. There's never going to be a sunset. We're stuck here for ever.

Ever, says Terence. And I feel sick.

And we lost our cheeses, says Baldy.

The two infants lie side by side, near an empty wine bottle, bare feet facing the ocean, kissed by the breeze.

The earth turns a little. The sun lights their heels with roses.....