There is blood on the foot of the Virgin.
Gaius enters the chapel.
What's going on?
Mea culpa, says the Virgin. I panicked and stepped on the children's new beetle.
Then she smacked us, snivels Terence.
And how is the beetle? asks Gaius. Who let it out of the jar?
Me, says Terence. I was showing it to Butterball.
Butterball squats, to have a good look at the beetle.
It's okay, says Butterball, but it's legs are broken.
Let's see, says Baldy, also squatting. Terence squats too.
The beetle stares balefully at the three infants, and spits in three different directions.
Now there's blood on their fat little knees. Serves them right.
Interesting, says Gaius. I must make a note that Timarcha tenebricosa DOES sometimes bleed from the knees. I don't suppose you have a pencil?
The Virgin is insulted. To be asked for a pencil!
Gaius can tell. He wishes he hadn't asked for a pencil. It will make it more awkward to ask for a passport.
He tries diplomacy.
Is your son interested in science?
Of course he is, says the Virgin. He is top of his class. Why only last year he went on a class trip to the Arctic Circle.
Really. And how did he get there? asks Gaius
The usual way, says the Virgin. It's shrinking, you know.
Yes, the ice is. The circle itself is drifting northwards, due to the earth's tilt, says Gaius. I read that somewhere.
Don't tell Butterball, says the Virgin. He'll want a new globe to stand on.
I imagine he knows, says Gaius. Being so clever.
Indeed, says the Virgin.
She softens. Actually, I do have a pencil.
Wonderful. May I borrow it for a moment? asks Gaius.
What kind of pencil will she have? No doubt a sharp one.
Here it is now. She holds up the pencil, like a blessing.
It's a blue one, topped by a light bulb.
Is that light bulb part of the pencil? asks Gaius.
No, it's a sharpener, says the Virgin. Nifty, isn't it. They come from China.
Very nifty, says Gaius.
This is going well now. He decides not to risk going backwards by asking for paper.
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
Monday, October 30, 2017
Facts And Freedom
Belle buys a tray of fresh oysters, and a bottle of local white wine.
François-René takes an oyster, sniffs it and sucks it.
It brings back memories of his beloved sister. (When they used to eat oysters, that is).
He says so.
Sartre says that, in his opinion, to eat is to appropriate by destruction.
Belle replies: Well, in that case...
And whips away the tray, before he can take one.
It's not fair.
Sartre is sulking.
The tide has turned. Dark clouds have rolled in.
Belle starts waving.
Sweezus and Arthur see her waving and wheel their bikes over, followed, at a short distance, by a bird.
Hi guys! Come and join us! says Belle. We're eating fresh oysters.
Brilliant, says Sweezus, taking two.
Saint Roley drops onto the pavement, exhausted.
He hops over to Sartre.
You look like I feel, says Saint Roley.
I was contemplating the unstable co-existence of facts and freedom, says Sartre.
Exactly, says Saint Roley.
Unstable coexistence of.... says Sweezus. Hang on. Can I write that down?
I'm thinking of going back to Paris, says Sartre. So better do it soon. Unless you're coming with me.
Facts and freedom coincide, says Sweezus. We're all going. Who's got a pen?
The perennial problem.
François-René solves it this time. He keeps a tiny pen in the pocket of his trousers, attached to a notebook.
.......
Gaius and Jeanne Jugan arrive at the Eglise de Saint Méen, and enter by the back door.
Hello, folks! says Méen, wiping his hands on a tea towel. How goes the mission?
It's over, says Gaius. And we need a favour. Where is young Butterball?
I think Terence and Baldy have already found him, says Méen.
Loud laughter comes from the chapel.
A scream.
Then three sharp smacks.
Then loud sobbing.
From this we can gather a bad thing has happened.
Perhaps to the beetle.
François-René takes an oyster, sniffs it and sucks it.
It brings back memories of his beloved sister. (When they used to eat oysters, that is).
He says so.
Belle replies: Well, in that case...
And whips away the tray, before he can take one.
It's not fair.
Sartre is sulking.
The tide has turned. Dark clouds have rolled in.
Belle starts waving.
Sweezus and Arthur see her waving and wheel their bikes over, followed, at a short distance, by a bird.
Hi guys! Come and join us! says Belle. We're eating fresh oysters.
Brilliant, says Sweezus, taking two.
Saint Roley drops onto the pavement, exhausted.
He hops over to Sartre.
You look like I feel, says Saint Roley.
I was contemplating the unstable co-existence of facts and freedom, says Sartre.
Exactly, says Saint Roley.
Unstable coexistence of.... says Sweezus. Hang on. Can I write that down?
I'm thinking of going back to Paris, says Sartre. So better do it soon. Unless you're coming with me.
Facts and freedom coincide, says Sweezus. We're all going. Who's got a pen?
The perennial problem.
François-René solves it this time. He keeps a tiny pen in the pocket of his trousers, attached to a notebook.
.......
Gaius and Jeanne Jugan arrive at the Eglise de Saint Méen, and enter by the back door.
Hello, folks! says Méen, wiping his hands on a tea towel. How goes the mission?
It's over, says Gaius. And we need a favour. Where is young Butterball?
I think Terence and Baldy have already found him, says Méen.
Loud laughter comes from the chapel.
A scream.
Then three sharp smacks.
Then loud sobbing.
From this we can gather a bad thing has happened.
Perhaps to the beetle.
Sunday, October 29, 2017
Depends Who You Follow
Sweezus and Arthur are cycling back to Cancale.
Saint Roley is flying behind them, for practice.
They never look back.
Saint Roley is tiring, dropping suddenly in the air, then, with difficulty, rising.
But he keeps up, because he is listening.
Sweezus: That water was freezing!
Arthur: Summer's over.
Sweezus: Yeah, where are we now?
Arthur: October.
Saint Roley thinks: That's the answer! October.
Sweezus: The oystercatchers asked me if it was October.
Arthur: Why would they want to know?
Sweezus: Dunno. But soon as I finish with Sartre I'm heading south for the winter.
Arthur: Me too. Where's Moreton Bay?
Sweezus: Queensland. Near Brissie.
They both look at one another. Surfing on the Gold Coast. How cool would that be?
Saint Roley flies valiantly. He might make it to Cancale, but not to Brissie.
It's hopeless.
He should have waited for Gaius and Jeanne Jugan.
They are cycling back to Cancale with Terence, Baldy and the Scarabée.
Gaius: Saint Roley will be a valuable asset in Moreton Bay. The problem is, how to transport him.
Jeanne Jugan: Why can't he fly?
Gaius: It's over sixteen thousand kilometres. Time is of the essence, if one wants to halt developers.
Jeanne Jugan: I see. Could you get him a passport?
Gaius: A bird with a passport?
Jeanne Jugan: Wait. Does Terence have a passport?
Gaius: Yes, but he needs it. I wonder if Baldy has one?
Baldy: Am I coming?
Gaius: Certainly not. You are staying. Where was it you came from?
Baldy: Le Puy-en-Velay.
Jeanne Jugan: Then he won't have a passport. Your best bet is Butterball. He did a gap year. The whole town saw him off. He went to....let me think....the Arctic Circle.
Gaius: This is promising. But Baldy looks more like Saint Roley than Butterball. Black and white feathers. Orange finger.
Jeanne Jugan: It's only a paint job. Do you know a good artist?
Gaius: I do.
Had he heard this Saint Roley might have ended his first long flight feeling more hopeful.
Saint Roley is flying behind them, for practice.
They never look back.
Saint Roley is tiring, dropping suddenly in the air, then, with difficulty, rising.
But he keeps up, because he is listening.
Sweezus: That water was freezing!
Arthur: Summer's over.
Sweezus: Yeah, where are we now?
Arthur: October.
Saint Roley thinks: That's the answer! October.
Sweezus: The oystercatchers asked me if it was October.
Arthur: Why would they want to know?
Sweezus: Dunno. But soon as I finish with Sartre I'm heading south for the winter.
Arthur: Me too. Where's Moreton Bay?
Sweezus: Queensland. Near Brissie.
They both look at one another. Surfing on the Gold Coast. How cool would that be?
Saint Roley flies valiantly. He might make it to Cancale, but not to Brissie.
It's hopeless.
He should have waited for Gaius and Jeanne Jugan.
They are cycling back to Cancale with Terence, Baldy and the Scarabée.
Gaius: Saint Roley will be a valuable asset in Moreton Bay. The problem is, how to transport him.
Jeanne Jugan: Why can't he fly?
Gaius: It's over sixteen thousand kilometres. Time is of the essence, if one wants to halt developers.
Jeanne Jugan: I see. Could you get him a passport?
Gaius: A bird with a passport?
Jeanne Jugan: Wait. Does Terence have a passport?
Gaius: Yes, but he needs it. I wonder if Baldy has one?
Baldy: Am I coming?
Gaius: Certainly not. You are staying. Where was it you came from?
Baldy: Le Puy-en-Velay.
Jeanne Jugan: Then he won't have a passport. Your best bet is Butterball. He did a gap year. The whole town saw him off. He went to....let me think....the Arctic Circle.
Gaius: This is promising. But Baldy looks more like Saint Roley than Butterball. Black and white feathers. Orange finger.
Jeanne Jugan: It's only a paint job. Do you know a good artist?
Gaius: I do.
Had he heard this Saint Roley might have ended his first long flight feeling more hopeful.
Saturday, October 28, 2017
Applied Nothingness
You have done well, Saint Roley, says Gaius.
Thank you, says Saint Roley,
So I'm going to make you an offer. How do you feel about curlews? says Gaius.
Ambivalent, says Saint Roley. They are fellow waders. In a sense, our brothers.
Admirable sentiments, says Gaius. Now, I have learned from Birdlife International, that the Far Eastern Curlew is endangered.
Aren't we all? says Saint Roley.
Hear me out, says Gaius. This is a particular instance. The Far Eastern Curlew's habitat in Moreton Bay is being threatened by developers. It's a crisis.
I do well in a crisis, says Saint Roley.
That's the spirit, says Gaius. However, I'm not sure I can take you back to Australia by plane.
You want me to fly? says Saint Roley. Thanks but no thanks.
There are other ways, says Gaius. He is thinking of them as he speaks. All of them dodgy.
I'll give him his flying lesson, says Arthur. Come over here, Roley.
You're NOT going to throw him over the edge of the Pointe de Grouin! says Jeanne Jugan.
Do it! cries Terence. You'll fly back to me, won't you Saint Roley?
Saint Roley is scared. So scared that he flutters up onto Jeanne Jugan's shoulder, and drops a feather.
See that! says Jeanne Jugan. He can fly quite well already.
Wonderful, says Gaius. I can always rely on you, Arthur.
Come on, Arthur, says Sweezus. Back to Cancale. Belle's stuck there with Sartre.
Being seduced, says Arthur.
Jeanne looks surprised, and takes Sartre's hat off.
It was unravelling anyway, and now it's no longer respectable.
.......
The tide is still out.
The oyster beds of Cancale are uncovered.
Belle, François-René, and Jean Paul are observing the visible rows.
Jean Paul is trying to think of something to say about oysters. Something existential.
François-René says something first.
There are two kinds of oysters in France, says François-René.
Boy ones and girl ones, says Belle.
No. Oh, ha ha! says François-René. You have your father's sense of humour. What I was going to say...
Hell is other people, mutters Jean Paul Sartre.
...is that there is the indigenous flat oyster and the imported hollow oyster, says François-René. Most of those in Cancale are the hollow type.
The hollow type. An opening for Sartre. Being and nothingness, applied to the oyster.
Too late!
François-René continues: The flat type has been dying out since the seventies, due to parasites.
Parasites.
Belle doesn't care. She really likes oysters.
Why don't we buy some from that stall over there? We could have an oyster picnic.
Sartre is in favour of an oyster picnic.
At a certain point in the picnic, he intends to say:
To eat is to appropriate by destruction.
And see how they take it.
Thank you, says Saint Roley,
So I'm going to make you an offer. How do you feel about curlews? says Gaius.
Ambivalent, says Saint Roley. They are fellow waders. In a sense, our brothers.
Admirable sentiments, says Gaius. Now, I have learned from Birdlife International, that the Far Eastern Curlew is endangered.
Aren't we all? says Saint Roley.
Hear me out, says Gaius. This is a particular instance. The Far Eastern Curlew's habitat in Moreton Bay is being threatened by developers. It's a crisis.
I do well in a crisis, says Saint Roley.
That's the spirit, says Gaius. However, I'm not sure I can take you back to Australia by plane.
You want me to fly? says Saint Roley. Thanks but no thanks.
There are other ways, says Gaius. He is thinking of them as he speaks. All of them dodgy.
I'll give him his flying lesson, says Arthur. Come over here, Roley.
You're NOT going to throw him over the edge of the Pointe de Grouin! says Jeanne Jugan.
Do it! cries Terence. You'll fly back to me, won't you Saint Roley?
Saint Roley is scared. So scared that he flutters up onto Jeanne Jugan's shoulder, and drops a feather.
See that! says Jeanne Jugan. He can fly quite well already.
Wonderful, says Gaius. I can always rely on you, Arthur.
Come on, Arthur, says Sweezus. Back to Cancale. Belle's stuck there with Sartre.
Being seduced, says Arthur.
Jeanne looks surprised, and takes Sartre's hat off.
It was unravelling anyway, and now it's no longer respectable.
.......
The tide is still out.
The oyster beds of Cancale are uncovered.
Belle, François-René, and Jean Paul are observing the visible rows.
Jean Paul is trying to think of something to say about oysters. Something existential.
François-René says something first.
There are two kinds of oysters in France, says François-René.
Boy ones and girl ones, says Belle.
No. Oh, ha ha! says François-René. You have your father's sense of humour. What I was going to say...
Hell is other people, mutters Jean Paul Sartre.
...is that there is the indigenous flat oyster and the imported hollow oyster, says François-René. Most of those in Cancale are the hollow type.
The hollow type. An opening for Sartre. Being and nothingness, applied to the oyster.
Too late!
François-René continues: The flat type has been dying out since the seventies, due to parasites.
Parasites.
Belle doesn't care. She really likes oysters.
Why don't we buy some from that stall over there? We could have an oyster picnic.
Sartre is in favour of an oyster picnic.
At a certain point in the picnic, he intends to say:
To eat is to appropriate by destruction.
And see how they take it.
Friday, October 27, 2017
The Wisdom Of Inaction
Below the Pointe de Groiun, Arthur is asleep in the cave.
Or: unconscious, in the grotto.
He stirs, and murmurs: For a long time.......
A voice answers: I have dwelt here, under vast porticoes, that the seaside suns tint....
Arthur awakens (perhaps).
Seaside suns!
All right, ocean sunsets.
But Arthur is awake now.
Outside the cave, a motor boat is slowing. Putt-putt-brummm---burrr.
A splashing occurs, and a bird squawk. Saint Roley is being transferred.
Sweezus appears under the vast portico. Tinted by the bright seaside sun not yet setting.
Arthur stands up, and feels ......perfectly normal.
Hey! shouts Arthur. I'm here.
You dick head! answers Sweezus. You could've drowned.
No, I couldn't, says Arthur. I was in here. I dreamed of a former life. But it was someone else's.
Yeah, right, says Sweezus. I rescued Saint Roley. And got a lift back with the coast guard. They're still looking for you.
Let's see, says Arthur. He sticks his head out of the cave. The coast guard patrol boat is zigzagging purposefully about on the water.
Arthur is gratified.
Make yourself useful, dude. Hold the parrot, says Sweezus.
Okay, says Arthur, taking the bird.
I'm not really a parrot, says Saint Roley.
I'm not really a bird lover, says Sweezus.
Me either, says Arthur. He needs to learn how to fly.
I know, says Saint Roley. You were meant to teach me. But you didn't come.
He feels safe saying this, at the base of the cliff face.
I'm not doing it now, says Arthur. I've only just come good again.
You good again? says Sweezus. Awesome. Let's get up there, and get rid of the bird.
They start up the steep path to where Gaius, Jeanne Jugan, Terence, Baldy and the blood spitting Scarabée are waiting.
Talking, on the way:
Former life, huh? says Sweezus. Whose was it?
Baudelaire, says Arthur. My poetry hero. He wrote Les Fleurs du mal.
Flowers of bad, says Sweezus. Wicked title.
Saint Roley! cries Terence, leaning dangerously over the edge of the Pointe de Grouin.
Arthur! cries Gaius. You survived!
Nothing to it, says Arthur, dropping Saint Roley on the ground beside Terence.
And you recovered Saint Roley, says Gaius. Good man.
And now I've got to teach him to fly, says Arthur.
Not yet, says Gaius. First things first. A debriefing. What happened, Saint Roley?
Saint Roley walks away from the dangerous edge to face his team leader, and says:
At first I thought it would be easy. They seemed to understand. Even told me where I could safely put down the cheeses. But knowing the problem doesn't solve it. They're programmed to repeat the same actions. I considered the dilemma. and came up with a solution, involving role play.....
Goodness! says Gaius. You have exceeded all expectations. Well done.
Sweezus considers saying: Yeah, but it all went cactus just before he was leaving.
And, wisely, chooses not to.
Or: unconscious, in the grotto.
He stirs, and murmurs: For a long time.......
A voice answers: I have dwelt here, under vast porticoes, that the seaside suns tint....
Arthur awakens (perhaps).
Seaside suns!
All right, ocean sunsets.
But Arthur is awake now.
Outside the cave, a motor boat is slowing. Putt-putt-brummm---burrr.
A splashing occurs, and a bird squawk. Saint Roley is being transferred.
Sweezus appears under the vast portico. Tinted by the bright seaside sun not yet setting.
Arthur stands up, and feels ......perfectly normal.
Hey! shouts Arthur. I'm here.
You dick head! answers Sweezus. You could've drowned.
No, I couldn't, says Arthur. I was in here. I dreamed of a former life. But it was someone else's.
Yeah, right, says Sweezus. I rescued Saint Roley. And got a lift back with the coast guard. They're still looking for you.
Let's see, says Arthur. He sticks his head out of the cave. The coast guard patrol boat is zigzagging purposefully about on the water.
Arthur is gratified.
Make yourself useful, dude. Hold the parrot, says Sweezus.
Okay, says Arthur, taking the bird.
I'm not really a parrot, says Saint Roley.
I'm not really a bird lover, says Sweezus.
Me either, says Arthur. He needs to learn how to fly.
I know, says Saint Roley. You were meant to teach me. But you didn't come.
He feels safe saying this, at the base of the cliff face.
I'm not doing it now, says Arthur. I've only just come good again.
You good again? says Sweezus. Awesome. Let's get up there, and get rid of the bird.
They start up the steep path to where Gaius, Jeanne Jugan, Terence, Baldy and the blood spitting Scarabée are waiting.
Talking, on the way:
Former life, huh? says Sweezus. Whose was it?
Baudelaire, says Arthur. My poetry hero. He wrote Les Fleurs du mal.
Flowers of bad, says Sweezus. Wicked title.
Saint Roley! cries Terence, leaning dangerously over the edge of the Pointe de Grouin.
Arthur! cries Gaius. You survived!
Nothing to it, says Arthur, dropping Saint Roley on the ground beside Terence.
And you recovered Saint Roley, says Gaius. Good man.
And now I've got to teach him to fly, says Arthur.
Not yet, says Gaius. First things first. A debriefing. What happened, Saint Roley?
Saint Roley walks away from the dangerous edge to face his team leader, and says:
At first I thought it would be easy. They seemed to understand. Even told me where I could safely put down the cheeses. But knowing the problem doesn't solve it. They're programmed to repeat the same actions. I considered the dilemma. and came up with a solution, involving role play.....
Goodness! says Gaius. You have exceeded all expectations. Well done.
Sweezus considers saying: Yeah, but it all went cactus just before he was leaving.
And, wisely, chooses not to.
Thursday, October 26, 2017
Three Options
What is he doing here?
How to answer the coast guard?
Sweezus thinks fast. He has several options.
1. Toe cramps.
2. Arthur being missing.
3. Recovering a parrot.
One of the coast guards has waded ashore.
Err... lost a parrot, says Sweezus.
Quoi! says the coast guard. There are no parrots here.
That will be me, says Saint Roley. I sometimes go by that title.
Yeah, that's him, says Sweezus.
That is an oystercatcher, says the coast guard. And therefore you have no right to remove him from this bird sanctuary.
Sweezus is taken aback. He tries the second option.
Okay... umm...did you happen to see another guy swimming in this direction. Or drowning?
Certainly not, says the coast guard. We would have stopped immediately. Is someone missing?
Hey! says Saint Roley. Does this mean I can't leave?
What? says the coast guard. You're a bird. Of course you can leave.
Under your own steam, whispers Osie. You can't be REMOVED. None of us can. It's all good.
Is someone missing? repeats the coast guard. You must make a report. Was this person also swimming to the bird sanctuary?
Yeah... no, says Sweezus. Probably not. Actually...
He seizes on option one.
....I had a toe cramp.
Ah, says the coast guard. You have my great sympathy. Toe cramps are painful. Did you try flexing?
Yeah, kind of, says Sweezus.
The problem is, says Saint Roley, I can't fly.
Can't fly! shrieks Osette. And here you are coming here telling us all what to do!
He can't fly, says Sweezus. So, could you give us a lift back?
At last, Sweezus is thinking clearly.
D'accord, says the coast guard. But for the purposes of my report, this bird is a parrot.
Suits me, says Sweezus. Will you.... pick him up?
He's your parrot, says the coast guard.
Not my parrot, says Sweezus. A kid in my team.
Terence, says Saint Roley. Did he miss me?
He's got a blood-spitting beetle, says Sweezus.
The coast guard picks up Saint Roley and wades out to the patrol boat. Sweezus follows.
Bye! calls Ostelle.
The others ignore Saint Roley's departure. He can't even fly. What a swizzle.
We shall go slowly, says the coast guard, in order to look for your friend.
Cool, says Sweezus, already scanning the ocean.
He's done his best for everyone.
It's a good feeling.
How to answer the coast guard?
Sweezus thinks fast. He has several options.
1. Toe cramps.
2. Arthur being missing.
3. Recovering a parrot.
One of the coast guards has waded ashore.
Err... lost a parrot, says Sweezus.
Quoi! says the coast guard. There are no parrots here.
That will be me, says Saint Roley. I sometimes go by that title.
Yeah, that's him, says Sweezus.
That is an oystercatcher, says the coast guard. And therefore you have no right to remove him from this bird sanctuary.
Sweezus is taken aback. He tries the second option.
Okay... umm...did you happen to see another guy swimming in this direction. Or drowning?
Certainly not, says the coast guard. We would have stopped immediately. Is someone missing?
Hey! says Saint Roley. Does this mean I can't leave?
What? says the coast guard. You're a bird. Of course you can leave.
Under your own steam, whispers Osie. You can't be REMOVED. None of us can. It's all good.
Is someone missing? repeats the coast guard. You must make a report. Was this person also swimming to the bird sanctuary?
Yeah... no, says Sweezus. Probably not. Actually...
He seizes on option one.
....I had a toe cramp.
Ah, says the coast guard. You have my great sympathy. Toe cramps are painful. Did you try flexing?
Yeah, kind of, says Sweezus.
The problem is, says Saint Roley, I can't fly.
Can't fly! shrieks Osette. And here you are coming here telling us all what to do!
He can't fly, says Sweezus. So, could you give us a lift back?
At last, Sweezus is thinking clearly.
D'accord, says the coast guard. But for the purposes of my report, this bird is a parrot.
Suits me, says Sweezus. Will you.... pick him up?
He's your parrot, says the coast guard.
Not my parrot, says Sweezus. A kid in my team.
Terence, says Saint Roley. Did he miss me?
He's got a blood-spitting beetle, says Sweezus.
The coast guard picks up Saint Roley and wades out to the patrol boat. Sweezus follows.
Bye! calls Ostelle.
The others ignore Saint Roley's departure. He can't even fly. What a swizzle.
We shall go slowly, says the coast guard, in order to look for your friend.
Cool, says Sweezus, already scanning the ocean.
He's done his best for everyone.
It's a good feeling.
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
He Arches And Spasms
Normally, Arthur wouldn't think of scrambling down a cliff and swimming across to a bird sanctuary, to save a bird on a mission.
It makes sense to him now.
Coming? says Arthur, to Sweezus.
He starts scrambling down the cliff path without waiting.
Heck! says Sweezus. I'd better go with him. He might have concussion.
Might he? says Gaius. He did look peaky.
Yeah, he fell off the mezzanine, says Sweezus.
I knew someone would, says Gaius. I thought it would be Terence.
Terence isn't listening. He is shaking the specimen jar, to re-animate his beetle.
Stop it! cries Baldy. Come and watch Arthur. He's going to swim over and rescue Saint Roley.
No way, says Sweezus, heading down the cliff path.
The tide is out now.
The atmospheric grotto is accessible.
Arthur has reached the bottom, and seen it.
He has gone in.
Sweezus is looking seaward, and doesn't see Arthur.
He strikes out for the Ile des Landes.
Is that Arthur, in the distance?
No, it's a dolphin.
From the grotto Arthur sees Sweezus swimming towards the island.
Don't go far off, thinks Arthur. A day is long....
Arthur wouldn't normally quote Pablo Neruda, his friend and rival.
He really might have concussion.
Sweezus has developed a toe cramp.
Jeanne Jugan is watching him from the cliff top. He arches and spasms.
I'm calling the coast guard! says Jeanne Jugan. That young man is in trouble. And the other one is missing.
Which one is missing! cries Gaius. Not Arthur!
As if it matters.
Jeanne calls the coast guard.
By this time, Sweezus has recovered, after rubbing and stretching his toes. He is an experienced swimmer. He has almost reached the island when the coast guard arrives.
On the island Saint Roley and the oystercatchers are winding up business.
Now, are you certain? says Saint Roley.
Yes, says Osette. And if we forget, we've got the cheeses.
And they are? says Saint Roley. Remind me.
Up there, out of danger, says Osie. Is it October?
How should I know? says Saint Roley. Let's ask that guy.
It's Sweezus, coming ashore, board shorts dripping.
Is it October? asks Saint Roley.
Like, who needs to know? asks Sweezus.
We do, say the oystercatchers.
Sweezus hates birds. He can't help it. They just give him the creeps. And where is Arthur?
The coast guard calls out through a megaphone.
Attention, monsieur! Que faites-vous ici? Répondez!
Shit! What's the best thing to say?
It makes sense to him now.
Coming? says Arthur, to Sweezus.
He starts scrambling down the cliff path without waiting.
Heck! says Sweezus. I'd better go with him. He might have concussion.
Might he? says Gaius. He did look peaky.
Yeah, he fell off the mezzanine, says Sweezus.
I knew someone would, says Gaius. I thought it would be Terence.
Terence isn't listening. He is shaking the specimen jar, to re-animate his beetle.
Stop it! cries Baldy. Come and watch Arthur. He's going to swim over and rescue Saint Roley.
No way, says Sweezus, heading down the cliff path.
The tide is out now.
The atmospheric grotto is accessible.
Arthur has reached the bottom, and seen it.
He has gone in.
Sweezus is looking seaward, and doesn't see Arthur.
He strikes out for the Ile des Landes.
Is that Arthur, in the distance?
No, it's a dolphin.
From the grotto Arthur sees Sweezus swimming towards the island.
Don't go far off, thinks Arthur. A day is long....
Arthur wouldn't normally quote Pablo Neruda, his friend and rival.
He really might have concussion.
Sweezus has developed a toe cramp.
Jeanne Jugan is watching him from the cliff top. He arches and spasms.
I'm calling the coast guard! says Jeanne Jugan. That young man is in trouble. And the other one is missing.
Which one is missing! cries Gaius. Not Arthur!
As if it matters.
Jeanne calls the coast guard.
By this time, Sweezus has recovered, after rubbing and stretching his toes. He is an experienced swimmer. He has almost reached the island when the coast guard arrives.
On the island Saint Roley and the oystercatchers are winding up business.
Now, are you certain? says Saint Roley.
Yes, says Osette. And if we forget, we've got the cheeses.
And they are? says Saint Roley. Remind me.
Up there, out of danger, says Osie. Is it October?
How should I know? says Saint Roley. Let's ask that guy.
It's Sweezus, coming ashore, board shorts dripping.
Is it October? asks Saint Roley.
Like, who needs to know? asks Sweezus.
We do, say the oystercatchers.
Sweezus hates birds. He can't help it. They just give him the creeps. And where is Arthur?
The coast guard calls out through a megaphone.
Attention, monsieur! Que faites-vous ici? Répondez!
Shit! What's the best thing to say?
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
He's From Barcelona
Sartre and Belle are just leaving for the oyster beds, when François-René arrives.
I've come for Arthur, says François-René.
He fell off the mezzanine last night, says Belle.
Alors! says François-René. Where is he?
Gone to Pointe de Grouin with Sweezus, says Belle. He thinks he might have concussion. He'll be back later.
Merde! says François-René. But it's good you have confidence.
He notices Sartre.
Sartre looks thinner and fitter, but he still looks like Sartre.
Thick lips, round glasses, side parting.
Is it? Could it be? asks François-René. Sartre?
Yes, says Belle. It is. And Jean-Paul, this is the famous .....
François-René de Chateaubriand! ejaculates Sartre. I recognise the handsome looks and dark kiss curl. We're about to visit the Cancale oyster beds. Will you join us?
Of course he will, seeing Arthur is out of the question.
Thus Belle is saved from a possible attempt at seduction.
But must now endure two philosophical companions.
......
Pointe de Grouin.
Sweezus and Arthur arrive.
Arthur! says Gaius. Good man! Have you brought the specimen jar?
Terence has it, says Arthur.
Terence holds forth the jar.
What's this in it? asks Gaius.
I've made it comfy for my beetle, says Terence. Where is he?
Still bleeding into my hat, says Jeanne Jugan. Is this the replacement?
She picks up Sartre's unravelled hat. How will this keep the sun off?
A poor sort of hat, says Jeanne Jugan.
It's Sartre's hat, says Sweezus. If that's a consolation.
And who are you? asks Jeanne Jugan, looking at Sweezus.
A disreputable looking young man if ever she saw one. Probably a surfer.
Sweezus, says Terence. When I grow up, I'll be...
No, you won't, says Sweezus. You're from Barcelona. Let's see the beetle.
The beetle is transferred to the comfy Sartre's-hat-lined specimen jar.
Instantly he stops bleeding (or spitting, or spewing) and settles.
Jeanne tries on the remains of the hat.
Suits you, says Sweezus.
She softens a little towards him.
You don't have a pair of binoculars?
Yeah, I don't. What about that pair you're holding?
Too cheap for looking at birds.
What birds? says Sweezus.
Saint Roley, my parrot, says Terence. We can't see him.
When did you see him last? asks Sweezus. Is he out there?
Yes, says Terence sadly. On the island.You need to go out and save him.
Nonsense, says Gaius. It's a bird sanctuary. No one is allowed there. We can only watch and wait. I must say, it's not the ideal scenario.
He's right. Not the ideal scenario.
But he has reckoned without Arthur'c concussion.
I've come for Arthur, says François-René.
He fell off the mezzanine last night, says Belle.
Alors! says François-René. Where is he?
Gone to Pointe de Grouin with Sweezus, says Belle. He thinks he might have concussion. He'll be back later.
Merde! says François-René. But it's good you have confidence.
He notices Sartre.
Sartre looks thinner and fitter, but he still looks like Sartre.
Thick lips, round glasses, side parting.
Is it? Could it be? asks François-René. Sartre?
Yes, says Belle. It is. And Jean-Paul, this is the famous .....
François-René de Chateaubriand! ejaculates Sartre. I recognise the handsome looks and dark kiss curl. We're about to visit the Cancale oyster beds. Will you join us?
Of course he will, seeing Arthur is out of the question.
Thus Belle is saved from a possible attempt at seduction.
But must now endure two philosophical companions.
......
Pointe de Grouin.
Sweezus and Arthur arrive.
Arthur! says Gaius. Good man! Have you brought the specimen jar?
Terence has it, says Arthur.
Terence holds forth the jar.
What's this in it? asks Gaius.
I've made it comfy for my beetle, says Terence. Where is he?
Still bleeding into my hat, says Jeanne Jugan. Is this the replacement?
She picks up Sartre's unravelled hat. How will this keep the sun off?
A poor sort of hat, says Jeanne Jugan.
It's Sartre's hat, says Sweezus. If that's a consolation.
And who are you? asks Jeanne Jugan, looking at Sweezus.
A disreputable looking young man if ever she saw one. Probably a surfer.
Sweezus, says Terence. When I grow up, I'll be...
No, you won't, says Sweezus. You're from Barcelona. Let's see the beetle.
The beetle is transferred to the comfy Sartre's-hat-lined specimen jar.
Instantly he stops bleeding (or spitting, or spewing) and settles.
Jeanne tries on the remains of the hat.
Suits you, says Sweezus.
She softens a little towards him.
You don't have a pair of binoculars?
Yeah, I don't. What about that pair you're holding?
Too cheap for looking at birds.
What birds? says Sweezus.
Saint Roley, my parrot, says Terence. We can't see him.
When did you see him last? asks Sweezus. Is he out there?
Yes, says Terence sadly. On the island.You need to go out and save him.
Nonsense, says Gaius. It's a bird sanctuary. No one is allowed there. We can only watch and wait. I must say, it's not the ideal scenario.
He's right. Not the ideal scenario.
But he has reckoned without Arthur'c concussion.
Monday, October 23, 2017
About Being And What Is
Arthur's knees are patched up with sticking plasters.
One otter, one monkey.
I want a monkey, says Terence.
Okay, says Belle. Just one monkey. Then someone should take this specimen jar back to Gaius.
Me and Sweezus, says Terence.
Yeah, okay, says Sweezus. How far is it?
Not far, says Belle. Terence can show you.
I'll stay here with Arthur, says Sartre.
No, I'm going too, says Arthur. I just need a bike.
If you're going, says Belle, Sweezie doesn't need to.
No, I'll go with Arthur, says Sweezus. He might have concussion. Can he have your bike?
For goodness sake! says Belle. Oh all right. I'll stay here with Jean-Paul. What shall we do though?
Philosophise, about being, and what is, says Jean-Paul.
And what isn't, says Belle. We could go and see the oyster beds. What time is it?
Three o'clock, says Sartre. Three o'clock is always too late or too early for anything.
Not in this case, says Belle. The tide will be out now.
She's right. Sartre is tickled.
Got a hat? asks Belle.
Yes, says Sartre, pulling one out of his pocket.
Sweezus and Arthur are cycling towards Pointe de Grouin with the specimen jar, and Sartre's hat.
Terence is in the basket, looking after both items.
Man, it's been full on with Sartre, says Sweezus
How come? asks Arthur.
Being and what is, what it is to be human, the world of things, indifference, and how to seduce women, says Sweezus.
Seduce women? says Arthur.
Yeah, women, says Sweezus. He reckons he's into it. He reckons he's got fitter. But I've got my angle.
The bike angle? says Arthur.
Yeah, says Sweezus. And I'm going to write what I know.
You should go for it, says Arthur.
That's why I love you, says Sweezus. You're supportive.
Arthur had been feeling wobbly. Now he feels supportive.
It's all about being connected.
But not to Terence.
In the basket, Sartre's hat is unravelling.....
The specimen jar is filling with threads.
One otter, one monkey.
I want a monkey, says Terence.
Okay, says Belle. Just one monkey. Then someone should take this specimen jar back to Gaius.
Me and Sweezus, says Terence.
Yeah, okay, says Sweezus. How far is it?
Not far, says Belle. Terence can show you.
I'll stay here with Arthur, says Sartre.
No, I'm going too, says Arthur. I just need a bike.
If you're going, says Belle, Sweezie doesn't need to.
No, I'll go with Arthur, says Sweezus. He might have concussion. Can he have your bike?
For goodness sake! says Belle. Oh all right. I'll stay here with Jean-Paul. What shall we do though?
Philosophise, about being, and what is, says Jean-Paul.
And what isn't, says Belle. We could go and see the oyster beds. What time is it?
Three o'clock, says Sartre. Three o'clock is always too late or too early for anything.
Not in this case, says Belle. The tide will be out now.
She's right. Sartre is tickled.
Got a hat? asks Belle.
Yes, says Sartre, pulling one out of his pocket.
Sweezus and Arthur are cycling towards Pointe de Grouin with the specimen jar, and Sartre's hat.
Terence is in the basket, looking after both items.
Man, it's been full on with Sartre, says Sweezus
How come? asks Arthur.
Being and what is, what it is to be human, the world of things, indifference, and how to seduce women, says Sweezus.
Seduce women? says Arthur.
Yeah, women, says Sweezus. He reckons he's into it. He reckons he's got fitter. But I've got my angle.
The bike angle? says Arthur.
Yeah, says Sweezus. And I'm going to write what I know.
You should go for it, says Arthur.
That's why I love you, says Sweezus. You're supportive.
Arthur had been feeling wobbly. Now he feels supportive.
It's all about being connected.
But not to Terence.
In the basket, Sartre's hat is unravelling.....
The specimen jar is filling with threads.
Sunday, October 22, 2017
Otter And Monkey
Right, says Belle. Arthur, go to the chemist.
What am I getting? says Arthur.
Sticking plasters, says Belle. And Gaius wants a specimen jar. Take Terence with you.
I might have concussion, says Arthur.
Belle isn't listening. She is looking around for a hat.
.....
Arthur has found a chemist. It was not far away.
He enters the Pharmacie Ceus Menard, on Rue Bellevue, with Terence.
Arthur looks down at Terence.
What are we here for? asks Arthur.
Can I help you? asks the pharmacist. I see you are bleeding. And the child also. Over there are the pansements.
She indicates a shelf full of dressings.
That's it, says Arthur. And a specimen jar.
The pharmacist goes behind the counter to look for a specimen jar.
It's for my beetle, says Terence. It spewed.
Dear me, says the pharmacist.
And coughed, says Terence. And bit me.
So I see, says the pharmacist. Shall I take your blood pressure?
She hands him a jar with a yellow lid.
YES! says Terence. And Arthur's. He fell down the stairs.
He seems all right, says the pharmacist.
Arthur stares absently at the sticking plasters. What are they for?
Tricosteril Extensible or Multi-usages. Or what about these?
Resistant to water. Micro aéré. Hypo allergénique. Les Bozanimos. Fourteen pansements.
Each plaster is decorated with one jungle animal. A leopard, a crocodile, a monkey, a turtle, an otter.
Arthur picks these.
......
Arthur and Terence return to the hotel room, with the Bozanimos and the specimen jar .
Belle is waiting.
Why didn't you come? asks Arthur. You could have paid. Now you'll have to go there.
Look at this! says Terence. It's an otter!
Sorry, says Belle. Did you get them?
Yes, says Arthur. You owe the pharmacist 4 euros.
Not you? says Belle.
Not me, says Arthur.
There's a knock on the door.
......
It's Sweezus and Sartre.
Now Arthur knows why Belle made him go to the chemist. She wanted to be there to meet them.
Guess what! cries Terence, throwing himself at Sweezus.
What, little dude? asks Sweezus, lifting him up.
I've got a beetle, says Terence, but it's in a hat, this is its jar, and I've got an otter plaster over my bite because it bit me.
Cool, says Sweezus. Looks like it also bit Arthur.
No, says Arthur. I fell off the bed up on the mezzanine and .....
Busted open your knees, dude, says Sweezus. Give me that box. Sit down. Wicked bandaids! Leopard or monkey?
Otters, says Arthur.
There's only one otter, says Sweezus.
Otter and monkey, says Arthur.
He lies back in a chair and lets his best friend in the world deal with his problems.
What am I getting? says Arthur.
Sticking plasters, says Belle. And Gaius wants a specimen jar. Take Terence with you.
I might have concussion, says Arthur.
Belle isn't listening. She is looking around for a hat.
.....
Arthur has found a chemist. It was not far away.
He enters the Pharmacie Ceus Menard, on Rue Bellevue, with Terence.
Arthur looks down at Terence.
What are we here for? asks Arthur.
Can I help you? asks the pharmacist. I see you are bleeding. And the child also. Over there are the pansements.
She indicates a shelf full of dressings.
That's it, says Arthur. And a specimen jar.
The pharmacist goes behind the counter to look for a specimen jar.
It's for my beetle, says Terence. It spewed.
Dear me, says the pharmacist.
And coughed, says Terence. And bit me.
So I see, says the pharmacist. Shall I take your blood pressure?
She hands him a jar with a yellow lid.
YES! says Terence. And Arthur's. He fell down the stairs.
He seems all right, says the pharmacist.
Arthur stares absently at the sticking plasters. What are they for?
Tricosteril Extensible or Multi-usages. Or what about these?
Resistant to water. Micro aéré. Hypo allergénique. Les Bozanimos. Fourteen pansements.
Each plaster is decorated with one jungle animal. A leopard, a crocodile, a monkey, a turtle, an otter.
Arthur picks these.
......
Arthur and Terence return to the hotel room, with the Bozanimos and the specimen jar .
Belle is waiting.
Why didn't you come? asks Arthur. You could have paid. Now you'll have to go there.
Look at this! says Terence. It's an otter!
Sorry, says Belle. Did you get them?
Yes, says Arthur. You owe the pharmacist 4 euros.
Not you? says Belle.
Not me, says Arthur.
There's a knock on the door.
......
It's Sweezus and Sartre.
Now Arthur knows why Belle made him go to the chemist. She wanted to be there to meet them.
Guess what! cries Terence, throwing himself at Sweezus.
What, little dude? asks Sweezus, lifting him up.
I've got a beetle, says Terence, but it's in a hat, this is its jar, and I've got an otter plaster over my bite because it bit me.
Cool, says Sweezus. Looks like it also bit Arthur.
No, says Arthur. I fell off the bed up on the mezzanine and .....
Busted open your knees, dude, says Sweezus. Give me that box. Sit down. Wicked bandaids! Leopard or monkey?
Otters, says Arthur.
There's only one otter, says Sweezus.
Otter and monkey, says Arthur.
He lies back in a chair and lets his best friend in the world deal with his problems.
Saturday, October 21, 2017
Blood From The Knees
Bring it here, says Belle. It may just be frightened.
Terence! shouts Baldy. Bring the beetle.
It's spitting up blood, says Terence.
Crikey! says Belle. Gaius! Terence has a sick beetle.
Let me see it, says Gaius, folding his notes on the Far Eastern Curlew.
I've got blood on me, says Terence.
Yuck! says Baldy. It's orange!
Gaius peers at the beetle. It is hard, black and shiny. Also, it's coughing up blood.
Jeanne Jugan comes back with her sun hat.
What have we here? asks Jeanne Jugan. Goodness! Terence has found a Scarabée Crache-Sang! Put it down, Terence. It's nasty.
Terence puts down the beetle. It has big feet. It starts to lumber away.
Not so fast, beetle, says Gaius. Hat, Jeanne!
He grabs Jeanne's sun hat and drops it over the beetle. He scoops up the hat and the beetle.
Really! says Jeanne. How can I wear that hat now?
Gaius, that was thoughtless, says Belle.
What about me? says Terence.
You are always thoughtless, says Belle.
He he, laughs Baldy.
There's BLOOD! cries Terence. On ME!
Gaius is examining the knees of the Scarabée as it lies on its back in Jeanne's hat.
I've heard they bleed from the knees as well as the mouth, says Gaius. I don't see any evidence of it.
It's not real blood, says Jeanne Jugan. It's a foul-tasting red substance. Designed to put off predators.
Belle, says Gaius. Can I ask you a favour?
Sure, says Belle.
Would you cycle back to Cancale and pick up a specimen jar? says Gaius.
Okay, says Belle. Terence, you're coming with me. And Jeanne, we owe you a hat. I'll find one.
.......
Belle cycles back to Cancale, with Terence in her front basket.
She is singing a song without words.
Rad da-da-dah. Rad da-da-dah......
Terence is snivelling.
Snuu-rk!
Cheer up, Terence, says Belle. We're going to see Sweezie. You can tell him all about your adventures.
How I got bleeding, says Terence.
You're not bleeding, says Belle. That was a Crache-Sang, a common blood spewing beetle.
You said spewing! says Terence.
It's just a NAME, says Belle. Look. Here we are, already.
She dismounts, lifts Terence out of her basket and enters the Hotel Nuit et Jour.
Where are we? asks Terence.
Our hotel, says Belle. You didn't sleep here because you slept in the church with the monks and Saint Roley. Arthur's here, probably still sleeping.
They go up to the room, and enter.
Arthur is sleeping on the floor. Or is he? There's blood on his knees. Perhaps he's unconscious.
Arthur! Arthur! says Belle, shaking Arthur.
Wha... ? says Arthur.
You're a blood spewing beetle! says Terence.
Arthur had been dreaming a horrible dream and is quite prepared to believe it.
He shudders and looks at his knees.
What happened? says Belle.
Fell off the mezzanine, says Arthur.
(This explains why someone on Trip Advisor claimed it was dangerous for children. The pool outside also has live and dead bugs in, they added. Apart from these things, Nuit et Jour is un hotel agréable.)
Terence! shouts Baldy. Bring the beetle.
It's spitting up blood, says Terence.
Crikey! says Belle. Gaius! Terence has a sick beetle.
Let me see it, says Gaius, folding his notes on the Far Eastern Curlew.
I've got blood on me, says Terence.
Yuck! says Baldy. It's orange!
Gaius peers at the beetle. It is hard, black and shiny. Also, it's coughing up blood.
Jeanne Jugan comes back with her sun hat.
What have we here? asks Jeanne Jugan. Goodness! Terence has found a Scarabée Crache-Sang! Put it down, Terence. It's nasty.
Terence puts down the beetle. It has big feet. It starts to lumber away.
Not so fast, beetle, says Gaius. Hat, Jeanne!
He grabs Jeanne's sun hat and drops it over the beetle. He scoops up the hat and the beetle.
Really! says Jeanne. How can I wear that hat now?
Gaius, that was thoughtless, says Belle.
What about me? says Terence.
You are always thoughtless, says Belle.
He he, laughs Baldy.
There's BLOOD! cries Terence. On ME!
Gaius is examining the knees of the Scarabée as it lies on its back in Jeanne's hat.
I've heard they bleed from the knees as well as the mouth, says Gaius. I don't see any evidence of it.
It's not real blood, says Jeanne Jugan. It's a foul-tasting red substance. Designed to put off predators.
Belle, says Gaius. Can I ask you a favour?
Sure, says Belle.
Would you cycle back to Cancale and pick up a specimen jar? says Gaius.
Okay, says Belle. Terence, you're coming with me. And Jeanne, we owe you a hat. I'll find one.
.......
Belle cycles back to Cancale, with Terence in her front basket.
She is singing a song without words.
Rad da-da-dah. Rad da-da-dah......
Terence is snivelling.
Snuu-rk!
Cheer up, Terence, says Belle. We're going to see Sweezie. You can tell him all about your adventures.
How I got bleeding, says Terence.
You're not bleeding, says Belle. That was a Crache-Sang, a common blood spewing beetle.
You said spewing! says Terence.
It's just a NAME, says Belle. Look. Here we are, already.
She dismounts, lifts Terence out of her basket and enters the Hotel Nuit et Jour.
Where are we? asks Terence.
Our hotel, says Belle. You didn't sleep here because you slept in the church with the monks and Saint Roley. Arthur's here, probably still sleeping.
They go up to the room, and enter.
Arthur is sleeping on the floor. Or is he? There's blood on his knees. Perhaps he's unconscious.
Arthur! Arthur! says Belle, shaking Arthur.
Wha... ? says Arthur.
You're a blood spewing beetle! says Terence.
Arthur had been dreaming a horrible dream and is quite prepared to believe it.
He shudders and looks at his knees.
What happened? says Belle.
Fell off the mezzanine, says Arthur.
(This explains why someone on Trip Advisor claimed it was dangerous for children. The pool outside also has live and dead bugs in, they added. Apart from these things, Nuit et Jour is un hotel agréable.)
Friday, October 20, 2017
The Illusion Of Being Eternal
You know what you did wrong, says the first cheese, to Saint Roley.
No, what? says Saint Roley.
You told them to think of us as eggs, says the second.
YES! cries Osette. We should think of them as cheeses!
But then why would you save them from washing away? asks Saint Roley.
That's not the point, says the first cheese. The problem is, that our crazy parents are programmed to rebuild their scrapes in the same places.
Without factoring in the consequences, says the second cheese.
So how will it help if they think of you as cheeses? asks Saint Roley.
Ask them if they've ever had cheese children, says the first cheese.
No need to ask. All the oystercatchers heard the question.
They look at one another. No. No one has ever had cheese children.
So you're saying, says Saint Roley, saving cheeses isn't a programmed behaviour.
Exactly, says the first cheese. So, no problem.
I get it, says one of the Osies. Do you guys get it?
I get it, says another of the Osies. We eat the cheeses.
Stupid. We just saved them, says Osette. They're our children.
But imagine if you didn't have to wade into the water to do it, says Saint Roley. Imagine something more effective.
He won't say what.
THEY must come up with it.
.......
At Pointe de Grouin, the afternoon sun is quite hot.
Jeanne Jugan has gone back to her bicycle, to get a sun hat.
Gaius is skimming through a set of notes on the plight of the Far Eastern Curlew.
Belle watches Terence and Baldy idly, while she thinks about Sweezus.
Why has he come all this way with Sartre? They were just going for a short afternoon ride in the country. Oh well, she would soon find out. It would be nice to see Sweezus. Maybe they could go out for dinner. Without Sartre. Arthur and François-René could take care of Sartre.
Her daydream is interrupted by a yell from Baldy.
Terence has ruined a beetle!
........
Sweezus and Sartre leave Saint Malo, and head for Cancale via the Grand Randonnée.
You're very quiet, says Sartre.
Yeah, I am, says Sweezus. Thinking about what that kid said.
We'll all be underwater? says Sartre.
Not that bit, says Sweezus.
What then? asks Sartre.
Because of you guys, says Sweezus. He said because of you guys.
He meant the older generation, says Sartre. The kids blame us.
Sweezus is silent.
You can't blame them, says Sartre. Cheer up. Oysters!
But Sweezus still looks glum.
Talk! says Sartre.
Okay! says Sweezus. I'm pissed off.
Why? asks Sartre.
I'm not the older generation, says Sweezus. I'm still a young guy. Look at me.
Sartre gets it. He was once a young guy. He says, to be helpful:
It's normal. Life has no meaning the moment you lose the illusion that you're eternal.
But it isn't helpful.
No, what? says Saint Roley.
You told them to think of us as eggs, says the second.
YES! cries Osette. We should think of them as cheeses!
But then why would you save them from washing away? asks Saint Roley.
That's not the point, says the first cheese. The problem is, that our crazy parents are programmed to rebuild their scrapes in the same places.
Without factoring in the consequences, says the second cheese.
So how will it help if they think of you as cheeses? asks Saint Roley.
Ask them if they've ever had cheese children, says the first cheese.
No need to ask. All the oystercatchers heard the question.
They look at one another. No. No one has ever had cheese children.
So you're saying, says Saint Roley, saving cheeses isn't a programmed behaviour.
Exactly, says the first cheese. So, no problem.
I get it, says one of the Osies. Do you guys get it?
I get it, says another of the Osies. We eat the cheeses.
Stupid. We just saved them, says Osette. They're our children.
But imagine if you didn't have to wade into the water to do it, says Saint Roley. Imagine something more effective.
He won't say what.
THEY must come up with it.
.......
At Pointe de Grouin, the afternoon sun is quite hot.
Jeanne Jugan has gone back to her bicycle, to get a sun hat.
Gaius is skimming through a set of notes on the plight of the Far Eastern Curlew.
Belle watches Terence and Baldy idly, while she thinks about Sweezus.
Why has he come all this way with Sartre? They were just going for a short afternoon ride in the country. Oh well, she would soon find out. It would be nice to see Sweezus. Maybe they could go out for dinner. Without Sartre. Arthur and François-René could take care of Sartre.
Her daydream is interrupted by a yell from Baldy.
Terence has ruined a beetle!
........
Sweezus and Sartre leave Saint Malo, and head for Cancale via the Grand Randonnée.
You're very quiet, says Sartre.
Yeah, I am, says Sweezus. Thinking about what that kid said.
We'll all be underwater? says Sartre.
Not that bit, says Sweezus.
What then? asks Sartre.
Because of you guys, says Sweezus. He said because of you guys.
He meant the older generation, says Sartre. The kids blame us.
Sweezus is silent.
You can't blame them, says Sartre. Cheer up. Oysters!
But Sweezus still looks glum.
Talk! says Sartre.
Okay! says Sweezus. I'm pissed off.
Why? asks Sartre.
I'm not the older generation, says Sweezus. I'm still a young guy. Look at me.
Sartre gets it. He was once a young guy. He says, to be helpful:
It's normal. Life has no meaning the moment you lose the illusion that you're eternal.
But it isn't helpful.
Thursday, October 19, 2017
The Hopes Of The Species
Sweezus and Sartre have arrived in Saint Malo.
Saint Malo looks different.
Most of the buildings have tide marks.
The tide marks are blue, wavy, artistic, and signed.
Splosh is here, says Sweezus. That's her work.
What does it mean? asks Sartre.
A warning, says Sweezus. Rising tides and....climate change....you know.
Hm, says Sartre. I wonder if the message gets through.
Embarrassingly, he stops a man with a poodle.
What does this mean to you? asks Sartre.
Quoi? says the man. Ca? Rien. Pas du tout.
I thought so, says Sartre. All human actions are equivalent and in principle doomed to failure.
You should ask a younger person, says Sweezus.
If you insist, says Sartre.
He stops a young person on a skateboard, and points to the tide marks.
C'est super! says the young person.
But what does it mean?
Don't ask me! says the young person. One day we'll all be underwater. Because of you guys.
Fuck! No way! says Sweezus.
Sartre scowls. He is used to being proved correct.
.......
Meanwhile, at Pointe de Grouin, Jeanne Jugan has finished her caramel, and is offered another.
I shouldn't, says Jeanne.
Go on, says Belle. You've had a hard life. I can't believe how that Abbot behaved!
All those years begging, says Jeanne.
What has that to do with the Abbot? asks Gaius.
Weren't you listening? says Belle. She founded the Little Sisters of the Poor. She was the leader. Then she was forced out by the Abbott, Auguste de Pailleur. He assigned her to do nothing but beg on the streets, until she retired. Most Little Sisters didn't even KNOW she was the foundress. They thought HE was the founder.
Presumably, the truth came out, says Gaius.
Yes, the truth came out, says Jeanne Jugan. He was investigated.
A most edifying story, says Gaius. And now here you are, with us, eating caramels and waiting to hear from Saint Roley, who is carrying the hopes of his species.
I'm not complaining, says Jeanne Jugan.
Forgive me. I thought you were, says Gaius.
......
On the Ile des Landes, Saint Roley and his fellow oystercatchers have rescued the cheeses.
Now what? says Osie.
This is my plan, says Saint Roley. Think of these as two eggs, not two cheeses. Now where will you put them?
Here, says Ostelle, scraping out a new scrape in a matter of seconds.
NO! says Saint Roley. That's the same place as before! What will happen?
The sea will wash us away, says one of the cheeses.
Use your noggins, crazy parents! says the other.
Good heavens! The cheeses can speak now. And they think the oystercatchers are their parents.
An unforeseen complication.
Saint Malo looks different.
Most of the buildings have tide marks.
The tide marks are blue, wavy, artistic, and signed.
Splosh is here, says Sweezus. That's her work.
What does it mean? asks Sartre.
A warning, says Sweezus. Rising tides and....climate change....you know.
Hm, says Sartre. I wonder if the message gets through.
Embarrassingly, he stops a man with a poodle.
What does this mean to you? asks Sartre.
Quoi? says the man. Ca? Rien. Pas du tout.
I thought so, says Sartre. All human actions are equivalent and in principle doomed to failure.
You should ask a younger person, says Sweezus.
If you insist, says Sartre.
He stops a young person on a skateboard, and points to the tide marks.
C'est super! says the young person.
But what does it mean?
Don't ask me! says the young person. One day we'll all be underwater. Because of you guys.
Fuck! No way! says Sweezus.
Sartre scowls. He is used to being proved correct.
.......
Meanwhile, at Pointe de Grouin, Jeanne Jugan has finished her caramel, and is offered another.
I shouldn't, says Jeanne.
Go on, says Belle. You've had a hard life. I can't believe how that Abbot behaved!
All those years begging, says Jeanne.
What has that to do with the Abbot? asks Gaius.
Weren't you listening? says Belle. She founded the Little Sisters of the Poor. She was the leader. Then she was forced out by the Abbott, Auguste de Pailleur. He assigned her to do nothing but beg on the streets, until she retired. Most Little Sisters didn't even KNOW she was the foundress. They thought HE was the founder.
Presumably, the truth came out, says Gaius.
Yes, the truth came out, says Jeanne Jugan. He was investigated.
A most edifying story, says Gaius. And now here you are, with us, eating caramels and waiting to hear from Saint Roley, who is carrying the hopes of his species.
I'm not complaining, says Jeanne Jugan.
Forgive me. I thought you were, says Gaius.
......
On the Ile des Landes, Saint Roley and his fellow oystercatchers have rescued the cheeses.
Now what? says Osie.
This is my plan, says Saint Roley. Think of these as two eggs, not two cheeses. Now where will you put them?
Here, says Ostelle, scraping out a new scrape in a matter of seconds.
NO! says Saint Roley. That's the same place as before! What will happen?
The sea will wash us away, says one of the cheeses.
Use your noggins, crazy parents! says the other.
Good heavens! The cheeses can speak now. And they think the oystercatchers are their parents.
An unforeseen complication.
Wednesday, October 18, 2017
What To Do Theoretically
Now the whole conference has gathered.
Osette and Ostelle and the three Osies watch Saint Roley.
Saint Roley watches the cheeses.
Tiny waves lap the scrape gently. Then comes a big one.
Wheeeerrrsh! The cheeses wash away and bob up and down in the ocean, reproachfully.
Did you see that? says Osette.
Yes, says Saint Roley.
Keeps happening, says Osette.
This is no surprise to the cheeses.
The thing is, says Saint Roley. There is a remedy.
Build our scrapes higher up the beach, says an Osie. We know.
You know! says Saint Roley.
Theoretically, says a second Osie.
So much for instructions, says Saint Roley.
What instructions? asks Osette.
The voice of the ocean, says Saint Roley. It told me: Don't use big words.
You haven't, says Ostelle.
But, theoretically, says Saint Roley.
Theoretically what? says the second Osie.
It's a big one, says Saint Roley. Why did you say it?
Which time? asks the second Osie.
The first time, says Saint Roley.
Because we know what to do theoretically, but we don't do it, says the second Osie.
It's like we've been programmed, says Osette.
I can help you, says Saint Roley. First, help me recover the cheeses.
Okay, say Osette and Ostelle.
The oystercatchers, including Saint Roley, wade out to the cheeses.
A heart-warming scene, missed by the watchers.
.......
This is BORING, says Terence. When will my parrot come back?
When he's accomplished his mission, says Gaius. It shouldn't be long.
It may be longer than you think, says Jeanne Jugan. Missions can take a whole life time.
Jumping Jupiter! I can't wait that long, says Gaius.
Me either! says Terence.
Having said that, mine was over before I was ready, says Jeanne Jugan.
How did that happen? asks Belle.
Dudded by the abbot, says Jeanne Jugan.
Typical, says Belle. Who's for another salted caramel?
In this way, they pass the time.
Osette and Ostelle and the three Osies watch Saint Roley.
Saint Roley watches the cheeses.
Tiny waves lap the scrape gently. Then comes a big one.
Wheeeerrrsh! The cheeses wash away and bob up and down in the ocean, reproachfully.
Did you see that? says Osette.
Yes, says Saint Roley.
Keeps happening, says Osette.
This is no surprise to the cheeses.
The thing is, says Saint Roley. There is a remedy.
Build our scrapes higher up the beach, says an Osie. We know.
You know! says Saint Roley.
Theoretically, says a second Osie.
So much for instructions, says Saint Roley.
What instructions? asks Osette.
The voice of the ocean, says Saint Roley. It told me: Don't use big words.
You haven't, says Ostelle.
But, theoretically, says Saint Roley.
Theoretically what? says the second Osie.
It's a big one, says Saint Roley. Why did you say it?
Which time? asks the second Osie.
The first time, says Saint Roley.
Because we know what to do theoretically, but we don't do it, says the second Osie.
It's like we've been programmed, says Osette.
I can help you, says Saint Roley. First, help me recover the cheeses.
Okay, say Osette and Ostelle.
The oystercatchers, including Saint Roley, wade out to the cheeses.
A heart-warming scene, missed by the watchers.
.......
This is BORING, says Terence. When will my parrot come back?
When he's accomplished his mission, says Gaius. It shouldn't be long.
It may be longer than you think, says Jeanne Jugan. Missions can take a whole life time.
Jumping Jupiter! I can't wait that long, says Gaius.
Me either! says Terence.
Having said that, mine was over before I was ready, says Jeanne Jugan.
How did that happen? asks Belle.
Dudded by the abbot, says Jeanne Jugan.
Typical, says Belle. Who's for another salted caramel?
In this way, they pass the time.
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
Not What Has Happened
I'll go, says Ostelle.
She stalks down to the edge of the water, where Saint Roley is wading.
Hi-hi, says Ostelle (she thinks it sounds cooler).
Hi, says Saint Roley. OH! HI!
What? says Ostelle.
Nothing, says Saint Roley. I was just taken aback, that's all.
Don't take this the wrong way, says Ostelle.
I wasn't, says Saint Roley.
I haven't said it, says Ostelle. It's a warning.
Snap, says Saint Roley. I'm here to give you a warning. You go first.
You might like to move those eggs you put down in that scrape there, says Ostelle.
Look again, says Saint Roley.
I'm looking, says Ostelle.
Go nearer, says Saint Roley.
Ostelle goes nearer. Hi-hi! Two little wet cheeses with teeth marks.
What's the point of the cheeses? says Ostelle.
The cheeses are here as a warning. Watch what happens, says Saint Roley.
YOU watch what happens, says Ostelle.
Saint Roley and Ostelle stare hard at the cheeses.
Nothing happens.
........
Back on the mainland Jeanne Jugan has fetched her binoculars from a frayed black bag attached to the frame of her bicycle.
She hands them to Gaius.
Gaius fiddles to get them in focus.
Drat! says Gaius. I can't see anything clearly.
Let me! says Jeanne Jugan. Oh, they're all smeary. I'll get a soft cloth.
Can I hold them? asks Terence.
And me? says Baldy.
After me, says Terence.
Terence points the binoculars towards the Ile des Landes, and looks through them.
I can see Saint Roley! says Terence. He's telling another parrot.
Telling what? asks Baldy.
Give them to me, says Belle. I'm sure you can't see anything.
She looks through the smeary binoculars. There's six of them, says Belle. No, make that a dozen!
This is wonderful! says Gaius.
Jeane Jugan comes back with the soft cloth and wipes both lenses. Gaius tries them again.
They appear to be fighting! says Gaius. This is not what I expected of Saint Roley.
Let me see! cries Terence.
Gaius hands him the binoculars.
BLOOD! cries Terence. Everyone's dying!
But in fact, dozens of parrots fighting to the death is not what has happened.
They are just really cheap binoculars.
She stalks down to the edge of the water, where Saint Roley is wading.
Hi-hi, says Ostelle (she thinks it sounds cooler).
Hi, says Saint Roley. OH! HI!
What? says Ostelle.
Nothing, says Saint Roley. I was just taken aback, that's all.
Don't take this the wrong way, says Ostelle.
I wasn't, says Saint Roley.
I haven't said it, says Ostelle. It's a warning.
Snap, says Saint Roley. I'm here to give you a warning. You go first.
You might like to move those eggs you put down in that scrape there, says Ostelle.
Look again, says Saint Roley.
I'm looking, says Ostelle.
Go nearer, says Saint Roley.
Ostelle goes nearer. Hi-hi! Two little wet cheeses with teeth marks.
What's the point of the cheeses? says Ostelle.
The cheeses are here as a warning. Watch what happens, says Saint Roley.
YOU watch what happens, says Ostelle.
Saint Roley and Ostelle stare hard at the cheeses.
Nothing happens.
........
Back on the mainland Jeanne Jugan has fetched her binoculars from a frayed black bag attached to the frame of her bicycle.
She hands them to Gaius.
Gaius fiddles to get them in focus.
Drat! says Gaius. I can't see anything clearly.
Let me! says Jeanne Jugan. Oh, they're all smeary. I'll get a soft cloth.
Can I hold them? asks Terence.
And me? says Baldy.
After me, says Terence.
Terence points the binoculars towards the Ile des Landes, and looks through them.
I can see Saint Roley! says Terence. He's telling another parrot.
Telling what? asks Baldy.
Give them to me, says Belle. I'm sure you can't see anything.
She looks through the smeary binoculars. There's six of them, says Belle. No, make that a dozen!
This is wonderful! says Gaius.
Jeane Jugan comes back with the soft cloth and wipes both lenses. Gaius tries them again.
They appear to be fighting! says Gaius. This is not what I expected of Saint Roley.
Let me see! cries Terence.
Gaius hands him the binoculars.
BLOOD! cries Terence. Everyone's dying!
But in fact, dozens of parrots fighting to the death is not what has happened.
They are just really cheap binoculars.
Monday, October 16, 2017
Osie, Osie, Osie, Osette and Ostelle
It's Sweezus.
This is a surprise, says Gaius.
Is Arthur with you? asks Sweezus.
No, says Gaius. But no doubt he will be as soon as he ....
So he isn't, says Sweezus. Where is he?
Why? says Gaius. Is there a message?
We're in Rennes, says Sweezus. Me and Sartre. About to head out to Saint Malo.
Arthur is not there, says Gaius. I am at Pointe de Grouin with Belle and Jeanne Jugan, a lady.
And Terence, says Sweezus. Is he there?
Yes, of course, says Gaius. He and Baldy are currently making red balls from a rhubarb pudding.
Cool, says Sweezus. How goes the mission?
We're at a crucial point in the mission, says Gaius. We've sent a young oystercatcher across to Ile des Landes, a bird sanctuary, and are awaiting developments. Jeanne has brought some binoculars.
Yeah, well, says Sweezus. Good luck with that. Where IS Arthur? Is he with someone?
François-René de Chateaubriand, says Gaius. But no. Arthur's at the Hotel Nuit et Jour. François-René stayed in the church and slept on the cushions.
Nuit et Jour, Cancale? says Sweezus. Okay, thanks Gaius.
Burrr.
Was that Sweezus? asks Belle. Is he coming?
It would seem so, says Gaius. He's in Rennes at the moment.
So he must have finished with Sartre, says Belle I wonder how that went?
Sartre is coming, says Gaius.
THE Sartre? asks Jeanne Jugan.
Yes, says Belle. I'm surprised too.
He is probably interested in birds, says Gaius.
But Belle thinks this is unlikely.
.......
Meanwhile Saint Roley is wading in the shallows in search of the oystercatcher conference.
Every now and then he stops for a mollusc.
Stab and twist. It's easy.
Correction. It could be easy. First he should put down the cheeses.
He wades ashore, scrapes a hole in the sand, and drops in the two damaged cheeses.
Then he goes back to wading and searching for molluscs.
Stab and twist. It is easy, this time.
He is unaware that he is being watched by the conference.
The conference has five members. Osie, Osie, Osie, Osette and Ostelle.
All of the members are oystercatchers, concerned at what has been happening since the tides have been rising.
Fool. Someone should warn him, says Osie.
This is a surprise, says Gaius.
Is Arthur with you? asks Sweezus.
No, says Gaius. But no doubt he will be as soon as he ....
So he isn't, says Sweezus. Where is he?
Why? says Gaius. Is there a message?
We're in Rennes, says Sweezus. Me and Sartre. About to head out to Saint Malo.
Arthur is not there, says Gaius. I am at Pointe de Grouin with Belle and Jeanne Jugan, a lady.
And Terence, says Sweezus. Is he there?
Yes, of course, says Gaius. He and Baldy are currently making red balls from a rhubarb pudding.
Cool, says Sweezus. How goes the mission?
We're at a crucial point in the mission, says Gaius. We've sent a young oystercatcher across to Ile des Landes, a bird sanctuary, and are awaiting developments. Jeanne has brought some binoculars.
Yeah, well, says Sweezus. Good luck with that. Where IS Arthur? Is he with someone?
François-René de Chateaubriand, says Gaius. But no. Arthur's at the Hotel Nuit et Jour. François-René stayed in the church and slept on the cushions.
Nuit et Jour, Cancale? says Sweezus. Okay, thanks Gaius.
Burrr.
Was that Sweezus? asks Belle. Is he coming?
It would seem so, says Gaius. He's in Rennes at the moment.
So he must have finished with Sartre, says Belle I wonder how that went?
Sartre is coming, says Gaius.
THE Sartre? asks Jeanne Jugan.
Yes, says Belle. I'm surprised too.
He is probably interested in birds, says Gaius.
But Belle thinks this is unlikely.
.......
Meanwhile Saint Roley is wading in the shallows in search of the oystercatcher conference.
Every now and then he stops for a mollusc.
Stab and twist. It's easy.
Correction. It could be easy. First he should put down the cheeses.
He wades ashore, scrapes a hole in the sand, and drops in the two damaged cheeses.
Then he goes back to wading and searching for molluscs.
Stab and twist. It is easy, this time.
He is unaware that he is being watched by the conference.
The conference has five members. Osie, Osie, Osie, Osette and Ostelle.
All of the members are oystercatchers, concerned at what has been happening since the tides have been rising.
Fool. Someone should warn him, says Osie.
Sunday, October 15, 2017
No, The Egg Chap
End of the line, says the dolphin. Hop off.
Saint Roley hops off.
Cheeses! says the dolphin.
Saint Roley turns back for the cheeses.
They are wet and have teeth marks in them, and don't look convincing.
How'll you get back? asks the dolphin.
I'll fly, says Saint Roley. I know I can do it. I escaped from the cave, and now look at me, wading.
Flying is different, says the dolphin.
I flew down from the cliff back there, says Saint Roley.
Anyone can fly down, says the dolphin. That's not to say you can't learn to fly horizontal.
Exactly, says Saint Roley. Well, thank you, dolphin. Regards to the hippos.
I never SEE them, scoffs the dolphin.
He swims off.
Saint Roley wades towards a sandy inlet, with rocks.
The rocks are covered with black and yellow lichens, and halophytes, in layers.
The beach is noisy with hundreds of gulls, brown and silver, and a few large and crested cormorants
Several crested cormorants are conversing with one another, in a corner.
Saint Roley wades up.
Seen any oystercatchers lately? asks Saint Roley. I mean besides me.
Conference, says a crested cormorant.
Oh. The oystercatchers are at a conference? This is promising. Perhaps it's about what to do when the rising tides continually wash away their scrapes and their eggs and thereby their potential to continue as a viable species.
Saint Roley keeps this hope to himself.
One should be circumspect, as a newcomer.
Mind telling me where? says Saint Roley.
You the cheese chap? asks another crested cormorant.
No, the egg chap, says Saint Roley.
The cormorants splutter.
.......
In the restaurant, back on the mainland, the apple and rhubarb pudding is in crumbly pieces.
Terence and Baldy! says Belle. If you're not going to eat it, don't mash it!
We're making red balls, says Terence.
Gaius is thinking of the mission. How to keep tabs on Saint Roley.
Binoculars! says Gaius. I should have brought some!
I have a pair, says Jeanne Jugan.
So things are looking good (except for the pudding).
Then Gaius's phone rings.
Saint Roley hops off.
Cheeses! says the dolphin.
Saint Roley turns back for the cheeses.
They are wet and have teeth marks in them, and don't look convincing.
How'll you get back? asks the dolphin.
I'll fly, says Saint Roley. I know I can do it. I escaped from the cave, and now look at me, wading.
Flying is different, says the dolphin.
I flew down from the cliff back there, says Saint Roley.
Anyone can fly down, says the dolphin. That's not to say you can't learn to fly horizontal.
Exactly, says Saint Roley. Well, thank you, dolphin. Regards to the hippos.
I never SEE them, scoffs the dolphin.
He swims off.
Saint Roley wades towards a sandy inlet, with rocks.
The rocks are covered with black and yellow lichens, and halophytes, in layers.
The beach is noisy with hundreds of gulls, brown and silver, and a few large and crested cormorants
Several crested cormorants are conversing with one another, in a corner.
Saint Roley wades up.
Seen any oystercatchers lately? asks Saint Roley. I mean besides me.
Conference, says a crested cormorant.
Oh. The oystercatchers are at a conference? This is promising. Perhaps it's about what to do when the rising tides continually wash away their scrapes and their eggs and thereby their potential to continue as a viable species.
Saint Roley keeps this hope to himself.
One should be circumspect, as a newcomer.
Mind telling me where? says Saint Roley.
You the cheese chap? asks another crested cormorant.
No, the egg chap, says Saint Roley.
The cormorants splutter.
.......
In the restaurant, back on the mainland, the apple and rhubarb pudding is in crumbly pieces.
Terence and Baldy! says Belle. If you're not going to eat it, don't mash it!
We're making red balls, says Terence.
Gaius is thinking of the mission. How to keep tabs on Saint Roley.
Binoculars! says Gaius. I should have brought some!
I have a pair, says Jeanne Jugan.
So things are looking good (except for the pudding).
Then Gaius's phone rings.
Saturday, October 14, 2017
The Mission Is Not Going Badly
Saint Roley treads water. He commences his story.
I had a brother, says Saint Roley. We were born from ruined eggs, in the Rance estuary.
Woo, says the dolphin. Thus the cheeses.
No, says Saint Roley. Not thus the cheeses. Don't jump to conclusions. You have all day.
Sorry, says the dolphin.
We belonged, at that time, to two infants, continues Saint Roley.
Do I know them? asks the dolphin. Taras? Telemachus?
Terence and Baldy, says Saint Roley. They thought we were parrots.
Ha ha, laughs the dolphin.
But Terence and Baldy were part of a team, says Saint Roley. A team on a mission.
Ah, a mission, says the dolphin. Thus the cheeses.
Closer, says Saint Roley.
You look tired, says the dolphin. Is the mission going badly?
No, says Saint Roley. I'm just not used to swimming.
Aha, says the dolphin. Are you a wader?
I am, says Saint Roley, but I haven't done much wading.
You should head over there, says the dolphin. indicating the Ile des Landes, with his snub nose.
That's exactly where I'm supposed to be heading, with the cheeses, says Saint Roley.
I see, says the dolphin. Have you a vessel?
I had one, says Saint Roley. A potato box. It broke up. My brother and I became separated.
A potato box, says the dolphin. It broke up. Hey!
Hey what? asks Saint Roley, looking wistfully up at the cheeses.
Did it have a hand printed on it, with one finger pointing? asks the dolphin.
Yes, towards the horizon, says Saint Roley.
Woo, says the dolphin. Maybe I saw it.
Was there a bird like me on it? asks Saint Roley.
No, says the dolphin. Never mind. Maybe I didn't. Shall I jump up for the cheeses?
Yes please, says Saint Roley.
The dolphin leaps gracefully out of the water and captures both cheeses.
Easy, says the dolphin.
Easy for you, says Saint Roley.
Now what? asks the dolphin.
A lift would be nice, says Saint Roley.
........
On the back of the dolphin. Saint Roley continues his story.
Had it not been for granny oyster, I should surely have drowned.
Phoo! says the dolphin.
I landed on the beach at Cancale, and from then, I remember nothing.
Nothing, says the dolphin. That's hard.
Until, says Saint Roley.
Oh, says the dolphin. There's more.
Yes, says Saint Roley. Two kindly old Welsh monks buzzed me, and then I could talk. It was amazing
I can talk, says the dolphin.
You're a dolphin, says Saint Roley.
Sure am, says the dolphin. A proud cetacean. Did you know that cetaceans' closest living relatives are the hippos?
No, says Saint Roley.
Not everyone does, says the dolphin.
I had a brother, says Saint Roley. We were born from ruined eggs, in the Rance estuary.
Woo, says the dolphin. Thus the cheeses.
No, says Saint Roley. Not thus the cheeses. Don't jump to conclusions. You have all day.
Sorry, says the dolphin.
We belonged, at that time, to two infants, continues Saint Roley.
Do I know them? asks the dolphin. Taras? Telemachus?
Terence and Baldy, says Saint Roley. They thought we were parrots.
Ha ha, laughs the dolphin.
But Terence and Baldy were part of a team, says Saint Roley. A team on a mission.
Ah, a mission, says the dolphin. Thus the cheeses.
Closer, says Saint Roley.
You look tired, says the dolphin. Is the mission going badly?
No, says Saint Roley. I'm just not used to swimming.
Aha, says the dolphin. Are you a wader?
I am, says Saint Roley, but I haven't done much wading.
You should head over there, says the dolphin. indicating the Ile des Landes, with his snub nose.
That's exactly where I'm supposed to be heading, with the cheeses, says Saint Roley.
I see, says the dolphin. Have you a vessel?
I had one, says Saint Roley. A potato box. It broke up. My brother and I became separated.
A potato box, says the dolphin. It broke up. Hey!
Hey what? asks Saint Roley, looking wistfully up at the cheeses.
Did it have a hand printed on it, with one finger pointing? asks the dolphin.
Yes, towards the horizon, says Saint Roley.
Woo, says the dolphin. Maybe I saw it.
Was there a bird like me on it? asks Saint Roley.
No, says the dolphin. Never mind. Maybe I didn't. Shall I jump up for the cheeses?
Yes please, says Saint Roley.
The dolphin leaps gracefully out of the water and captures both cheeses.
Easy, says the dolphin.
Easy for you, says Saint Roley.
Now what? asks the dolphin.
A lift would be nice, says Saint Roley.
........
On the back of the dolphin. Saint Roley continues his story.
Had it not been for granny oyster, I should surely have drowned.
Phoo! says the dolphin.
I landed on the beach at Cancale, and from then, I remember nothing.
Nothing, says the dolphin. That's hard.
Until, says Saint Roley.
Oh, says the dolphin. There's more.
Yes, says Saint Roley. Two kindly old Welsh monks buzzed me, and then I could talk. It was amazing
I can talk, says the dolphin.
You're a dolphin, says Saint Roley.
Sure am, says the dolphin. A proud cetacean. Did you know that cetaceans' closest living relatives are the hippos?
No, says Saint Roley.
Not everyone does, says the dolphin.
Friday, October 13, 2017
You To Thank For My Life
What plan has Saint Roley come up with, inspired by the sight of a dolphin?
Let's see.
He dives from his perch, into the dark rising waters.
If a dolphin can swim, why not he?
He turns, and kicks his way up to the surface, emerging at the crack, which is fast disappearing.
One more dolphin-like kick (as he imagines) and he is floating out on the ocean, below the old bush.
From which dangle two cheeses.
He gives thanks to the dolphin. He gives thanks to the ocean. He gives thanks to the bush and the makers of cheese.
.......
Gaius looks at the menu. What will he have?
How about a salade de tomates à l'ancienne? says Jeanne Jugan.
Madam, says Gaius. It is well known that tomatoes are poison.
Not by me, says Jeanne Jugan. I like tomatoes. But you must please yourself.
How about melon et lard fumé? asks Belle.
Gaius orders melon et lard fumé.
Belle orders bulots mayonnaise.
Terence and Baldy are up at the counter with their handfuls of grouins.
Oui, mes enfants? says Michel.
How many red drinks can we get with these? asks Terence.
We have no red drinks for children, says Michel. Red drinks make children hyperactive. You can have jus d'orange or jus de pomme.
This is a rubbish restaurant, says Terence.
Yes, says Baldy.
How about red pudding? asks Michel.
.......
Saint Roley is tiring of swimming.
He has swum round and round.
He can not quite reach the cheeses.
Squelch-suck-squelch-suck. Is the tide turning?
No. It's that dolphin again.
In trouble are we? asks the dolphin.
Au contraire, says Saint Roley. I have you to thank for my life. The fact that I can't reach the cheeses hardly constitutes trouble.
Me? says the dolphin. For your life?
....
It's a red pudding, says Terence.
I see that, says Belle. Let me smell it.
She sniffs the red pudding.
It smells like apple and rhubarb. Okay.
.....
I could reach them, says the dolphin. I'd have to leap up. What are they good for?
Fake eggs, says Saint Roley. Long story.
Tell it, says the dolphin. I've got all day.
Let's see.
He dives from his perch, into the dark rising waters.
If a dolphin can swim, why not he?
He turns, and kicks his way up to the surface, emerging at the crack, which is fast disappearing.
One more dolphin-like kick (as he imagines) and he is floating out on the ocean, below the old bush.
From which dangle two cheeses.
He gives thanks to the dolphin. He gives thanks to the ocean. He gives thanks to the bush and the makers of cheese.
.......
Gaius looks at the menu. What will he have?
How about a salade de tomates à l'ancienne? says Jeanne Jugan.
Madam, says Gaius. It is well known that tomatoes are poison.
Not by me, says Jeanne Jugan. I like tomatoes. But you must please yourself.
How about melon et lard fumé? asks Belle.
Gaius orders melon et lard fumé.
Belle orders bulots mayonnaise.
Terence and Baldy are up at the counter with their handfuls of grouins.
Oui, mes enfants? says Michel.
How many red drinks can we get with these? asks Terence.
We have no red drinks for children, says Michel. Red drinks make children hyperactive. You can have jus d'orange or jus de pomme.
This is a rubbish restaurant, says Terence.
Yes, says Baldy.
How about red pudding? asks Michel.
.......
Saint Roley is tiring of swimming.
He has swum round and round.
He can not quite reach the cheeses.
Squelch-suck-squelch-suck. Is the tide turning?
No. It's that dolphin again.
In trouble are we? asks the dolphin.
Au contraire, says Saint Roley. I have you to thank for my life. The fact that I can't reach the cheeses hardly constitutes trouble.
Me? says the dolphin. For your life?
....
It's a red pudding, says Terence.
I see that, says Belle. Let me smell it.
She sniffs the red pudding.
It smells like apple and rhubarb. Okay.
.....
I could reach them, says the dolphin. I'd have to leap up. What are they good for?
Fake eggs, says Saint Roley. Long story.
Tell it, says the dolphin. I've got all day.
Thursday, October 12, 2017
The Voice Of The Ocean
Unfortunately, that was an ill-judged decision.
Saint Roley is trapped in the cave.
It is dark.The waters are rising. He finds a perch somewhere high.
Through the entrance, he can see the bush he flew in from, and a patch of blue sky.
Gurgle-gurgle-slurp-slurp-ss-sa-swoosh-saint-ro-o-ley!
Is that Belle's voice? or the voice of the ocean.
Yes? cries Saint Roley.
Two old cheeses fall from the sky.
They land in the bush, and lodge there.
Too late! cries the voice of the ocean (or Belle's voice).
The wind blows away the reply.
I'm coming up! cries the voice of the ocean.
I'm aware of that, mutters Saint Roley. I regret my precipitate action.
Keep it simple, whispers the voice of the ocean. Don't use big words, ss-saint-ro-o-ley....
.......
Belle arrives at the cliff top.
See anything? asks Gaius.
No, says Belle. But two old cheeses fell into a bush as I was leaving.
Damn! says Jeanne Jugan.
I shouted the instruction, says Belle. He might have heard it.
You did your best, says Gaius.
You did, dear, says Jeanne Jugan. Now I have good news. As well as the cheeses Thierry has given me a whole bag of grouins. That means we can have a free lunch.
Grouins? says Gaius. Are they some sort of seafood?
Ha ha! laughs Jeanne Jugan. They pass in the restaurant for currency. One euro equals one grouin.
What is the point of that? asks Gaius.
Merely a bit of fun, says Jeanne Jugan. Look, Terence and Baldy. Here are your grouins.
She gives them each three silver and two gold ones.
Yay! says Terence. We can buy red drinks!
Hm, says Belle. Perhaps you should let me look after your grouins.
No! cries Baldy. She gave them to US!
Terence and Baldy run off with their treasure, towards the restaurant.
Jeanne Jugan shrugs.
It is clear that Jeanne Jugan is not used to dealing with infants.
At least they have forgotten about Saint Roley, says Gaius.
Yes, says Belle. Poor little Saint Roley.
Nonetheless, I have faith in Saint Roley, says Gaius.
They head off to the restaurant with Jeanne Jugan, to get their free lunch.
.....
And should we have faith in Saint Roley?
Yes.
Saint Roley has spotted a passing dolphin, through the last tiny crack at the top of the gurgling mouth of the grotto.
And come up with a plan.
Saint Roley is trapped in the cave.
It is dark.The waters are rising. He finds a perch somewhere high.
Through the entrance, he can see the bush he flew in from, and a patch of blue sky.
Gurgle-gurgle-slurp-slurp-ss-sa-swoosh-saint-ro-o-ley!
Is that Belle's voice? or the voice of the ocean.
Yes? cries Saint Roley.
Two old cheeses fall from the sky.
They land in the bush, and lodge there.
Too late! cries the voice of the ocean (or Belle's voice).
The wind blows away the reply.
I'm coming up! cries the voice of the ocean.
I'm aware of that, mutters Saint Roley. I regret my precipitate action.
Keep it simple, whispers the voice of the ocean. Don't use big words, ss-saint-ro-o-ley....
.......
Belle arrives at the cliff top.
See anything? asks Gaius.
No, says Belle. But two old cheeses fell into a bush as I was leaving.
Damn! says Jeanne Jugan.
I shouted the instruction, says Belle. He might have heard it.
You did your best, says Gaius.
You did, dear, says Jeanne Jugan. Now I have good news. As well as the cheeses Thierry has given me a whole bag of grouins. That means we can have a free lunch.
Grouins? says Gaius. Are they some sort of seafood?
Ha ha! laughs Jeanne Jugan. They pass in the restaurant for currency. One euro equals one grouin.
What is the point of that? asks Gaius.
Merely a bit of fun, says Jeanne Jugan. Look, Terence and Baldy. Here are your grouins.
She gives them each three silver and two gold ones.
Yay! says Terence. We can buy red drinks!
Hm, says Belle. Perhaps you should let me look after your grouins.
No! cries Baldy. She gave them to US!
Terence and Baldy run off with their treasure, towards the restaurant.
Jeanne Jugan shrugs.
It is clear that Jeanne Jugan is not used to dealing with infants.
At least they have forgotten about Saint Roley, says Gaius.
Yes, says Belle. Poor little Saint Roley.
Nonetheless, I have faith in Saint Roley, says Gaius.
They head off to the restaurant with Jeanne Jugan, to get their free lunch.
.....
And should we have faith in Saint Roley?
Yes.
Saint Roley has spotted a passing dolphin, through the last tiny crack at the top of the gurgling mouth of the grotto.
And come up with a plan.
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
Dangerous Lateral Thinking
Gaius, Belle and Jeanne Jugan look down from the cliff top.
I see him, says Belle.
Saint Roley is spreadeagled in a bush at the bottom.
Where? says Gaius.
There, says Belle pointing. Wait! No! He's moving. Oh! Where did he go?
What puzzles me most, says Gaius, is that he took off without informing us that he was going. Terence, what do you know about this?
Nothing, says Terence. He'll be back in a minute.
Not unless one of us goes down to get him, says Belle. And the tide's turned, so it ought to be me.
Wait, says Gaius. If you're going down there, perhaps you could give him some....
Cheeses! says Jeanne Jugan. Hold your horses! I'll be right back.
She leaps onto her bicycle and heads back down the track to the Pointe de Grouin restaurant.
I was going to say instructions, says Gaius.
Should I wait? asks Belle. Most of the walkers are coming back up already. Just give me the instructions.
Tell him to keep it simple, says Gaius. No big words.
That's easy, says Belle. I'll go now. You can chuck down the cheeses.
She starts off down the path to the bottom.
Can I chuck down the cheeses? asks Terence.
If they materialise, says Gaius.
Meanwhile Jeanne Jugan has left her bicycle in the car park and entered the restaurant.
She marches straight through to the kitchen.
You! says Thierry.
Good. He remembers.
Any old cheeses? asks Jeanne.
For you, Jeanne, there are always old cheeses, says Thierry.
......
Let us see how Saint Roley is doing.
He had been spreadeagled and then disappeared.
This is what happened.
He came to himself. He wondered: How did I get here? Perhaps the witch spell was faulty. But what is the nature of witch spells? Is one still obliged to put in a personal effort? I didn't do that. What do I do now? Upwards or forwards?
Upwards or forwards.
He tries lateral thinking.
What about backwards?
He turns, and sees the mouth of the atmospheric grotto.
He takes a deep bird breath, and flutters in, followed by dangerous waves.
I see him, says Belle.
Saint Roley is spreadeagled in a bush at the bottom.
Where? says Gaius.
There, says Belle pointing. Wait! No! He's moving. Oh! Where did he go?
What puzzles me most, says Gaius, is that he took off without informing us that he was going. Terence, what do you know about this?
Nothing, says Terence. He'll be back in a minute.
Not unless one of us goes down to get him, says Belle. And the tide's turned, so it ought to be me.
Wait, says Gaius. If you're going down there, perhaps you could give him some....
Cheeses! says Jeanne Jugan. Hold your horses! I'll be right back.
She leaps onto her bicycle and heads back down the track to the Pointe de Grouin restaurant.
I was going to say instructions, says Gaius.
Should I wait? asks Belle. Most of the walkers are coming back up already. Just give me the instructions.
Tell him to keep it simple, says Gaius. No big words.
That's easy, says Belle. I'll go now. You can chuck down the cheeses.
She starts off down the path to the bottom.
Can I chuck down the cheeses? asks Terence.
If they materialise, says Gaius.
Meanwhile Jeanne Jugan has left her bicycle in the car park and entered the restaurant.
She marches straight through to the kitchen.
You! says Thierry.
Good. He remembers.
Any old cheeses? asks Jeanne.
For you, Jeanne, there are always old cheeses, says Thierry.
......
He had been spreadeagled and then disappeared.
This is what happened.
He came to himself. He wondered: How did I get here? Perhaps the witch spell was faulty. But what is the nature of witch spells? Is one still obliged to put in a personal effort? I didn't do that. What do I do now? Upwards or forwards?
Upwards or forwards.
He tries lateral thinking.
What about backwards?
He turns, and sees the mouth of the atmospheric grotto.
He takes a deep bird breath, and flutters in, followed by dangerous waves.
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
Say FLY
I'm not! says Jeanne Jugan.
Of course not, says Belle.
LA LA LA! says Terence.
What's that for? asks Baldy.
So Saint Roley won't hear it, says Terence.
Hear what? asks Saint Roley.
She's pretending she isn't, says Terence. It's a witch trick. Come here.
Saint Roley jumps down from the basket.
That was GOOD flying, says Baldy.
It wasn't flying, says Saint Roley. I think I know the difference.
Come over to the edge of the cliff, says Terence. You stand there. We'll trick her into saying a spell.
Okay, says Saint Roley.
He stands at the edge of the Pointe de Grouin, looking down. The tide is out, and several walkers are making their way to the bottom.
Behind him, Terence and Baldy are hatching a plan.
I know, says Terence. We'll make her say FLY.
Easy, says Baldy. We'll catch a fly and ask her what it is. Then she'll say it.
Yes, says Terence. Start looking.
But the first insect he sees is a bee.
He tries to catch it.
Jeanne Jugan has no idea that Terence and Baldy are planning to make her say FLY.
She is talking to Belle and Gaius.
Gaius is explaining the mission, and that oystercatchers are generally slow learners, but Saint Roley is quick witted, so the plan is for him to act as a role model, using cheeses as eggs, for safety reasons.
But we don't have the cheeses, says Belle.
We mislaid them, says Gaius
I may be able to help, says Jeanne Jugan. I am good at begging.
Of course! says Belle. You founded the Little Sisters of the Poor, and went begging for food for abandoned old women.
What do you think THIS is? asks Terence coming up behind Jeanne Jugan with a dead bee.
A dead bee, says Jeanne Jugan.
It's a FLY! says Terence.
It isn't, says Jeanne Jugan.
Terence is defeated.
But Baldy is not.
Isn't what? says Baldy.
A fly, says Jeanne Jugan.
WHAT? says Baldy.
FLY! says Jeanne Jugan.
Saint Roley hears the spell. He believes in it, fully.
He leaps forward
fluttering in mid air
above the cliff face
a soft wind takes him
he is blown out
the wind drops him
in a bush at the bottom
ploosh
but he is uninjured
finding himself at the mouth
of an atmospheric grotto.
Up on the cliff top, not everyone is pleased with what happened
Of course not, says Belle.
LA LA LA! says Terence.
What's that for? asks Baldy.
So Saint Roley won't hear it, says Terence.
Hear what? asks Saint Roley.
She's pretending she isn't, says Terence. It's a witch trick. Come here.
Saint Roley jumps down from the basket.
That was GOOD flying, says Baldy.
It wasn't flying, says Saint Roley. I think I know the difference.
Come over to the edge of the cliff, says Terence. You stand there. We'll trick her into saying a spell.
Okay, says Saint Roley.
He stands at the edge of the Pointe de Grouin, looking down. The tide is out, and several walkers are making their way to the bottom.
Behind him, Terence and Baldy are hatching a plan.
I know, says Terence. We'll make her say FLY.
Easy, says Baldy. We'll catch a fly and ask her what it is. Then she'll say it.
Yes, says Terence. Start looking.
But the first insect he sees is a bee.
He tries to catch it.
Jeanne Jugan has no idea that Terence and Baldy are planning to make her say FLY.
She is talking to Belle and Gaius.
Gaius is explaining the mission, and that oystercatchers are generally slow learners, but Saint Roley is quick witted, so the plan is for him to act as a role model, using cheeses as eggs, for safety reasons.
But we don't have the cheeses, says Belle.
We mislaid them, says Gaius
I may be able to help, says Jeanne Jugan. I am good at begging.
Of course! says Belle. You founded the Little Sisters of the Poor, and went begging for food for abandoned old women.
What do you think THIS is? asks Terence coming up behind Jeanne Jugan with a dead bee.
A dead bee, says Jeanne Jugan.
It's a FLY! says Terence.
It isn't, says Jeanne Jugan.
Terence is defeated.
But Baldy is not.
Isn't what? says Baldy.
A fly, says Jeanne Jugan.
WHAT? says Baldy.
FLY! says Jeanne Jugan.
Saint Roley hears the spell. He believes in it, fully.
He leaps forward
fluttering in mid air
above the cliff face
a soft wind takes him
he is blown out
the wind drops him
in a bush at the bottom
ploosh
but he is uninjured
finding himself at the mouth
of an atmospheric grotto.
Up on the cliff top, not everyone is pleased with what happened
Monday, October 9, 2017
Weak-Weak!
Hotel Restaurant de la Pointe de Grouin.
Gaius, Belle and Saint Roley arrive at the car park.
Coffee? says Belle.
No, let us push on to the end of the trail, says Gaius. It's not far.
All right, says Belle. Saint Roley, we're almost there. Are you excited?
No, says Saint Roley. My stomach is churning, but I'm not excited.
Worried about flying? says Belle. I'm sure it's quite easy.
I should get some practice, says Saint Roley.
An excellent idea, says Gaius. Start by flying out of my basket.
Saint Roley has been sitting in Gaius's basket, with the salted caramels. The basket is deep.
He can't just fly out of the basket, says Belle. He needs a leg up.
Gaius places a hand under the soft feathery bottom of Saint Roley, and lifts him onto the rim of the basket.
Stay still, says Belle. Get your bearings.
Saint Roley looks around at the view.
There is a path leading out to the Pointe de Grouin. Beyond it, the ocean. Not far off, the Ile des Landes, where his mission lies. Further out to sea, the Herpin Lighthouse. Beyond that, the Iles de Chausey.
Great cormorants fly menacingly above him.
Weak-weak! cry the great cormorants.
It's not their usual cry. More like a comment.
Go! says Gaius.
Saint Roley teeters.
He isn't ready.
Hey! cries Terence. We're here!
Belle and Gaius turn at the same moment, to see Jeanne Jugan, screeching to a halt on her rattly bicycle, and Terence and Baldy, covered in webs, shouting from her dirty basket.
Crikey! says Belle. Why have you got Terence and Baldy? Who are you?
Jeanne Jugan, pants Jeanne Jugan.
Saint Jeanne Jugan! says Belle. I thought I recognised you. You look whacked. Have a caramel.
Thank you, dear, says Jeane Jugan. I have ridden like the clappers to get here in time. Méen and Maclou are my friends. I've brought the children.
Why? asks Gaius.
Well.... says Jeanne Jugan. They are your charges, and Saint Roley is their bird. I wish to assist in the mission. I like to feel useful.
You're very welcome, says Belle. Do you know much about birds? Saint Roley is trying to pluck up some courage.
I know all about courage, says Jeanne Jugan. I was....
She was a witch, says Terence.
She knows spells, says Baldy.
Saint Roley calms down. A spell would be helpful.
Gaius, Belle and Saint Roley arrive at the car park.
Coffee? says Belle.
No, let us push on to the end of the trail, says Gaius. It's not far.
All right, says Belle. Saint Roley, we're almost there. Are you excited?
No, says Saint Roley. My stomach is churning, but I'm not excited.
Worried about flying? says Belle. I'm sure it's quite easy.
I should get some practice, says Saint Roley.
An excellent idea, says Gaius. Start by flying out of my basket.
Saint Roley has been sitting in Gaius's basket, with the salted caramels. The basket is deep.
He can't just fly out of the basket, says Belle. He needs a leg up.
Gaius places a hand under the soft feathery bottom of Saint Roley, and lifts him onto the rim of the basket.
Stay still, says Belle. Get your bearings.
Saint Roley looks around at the view.
There is a path leading out to the Pointe de Grouin. Beyond it, the ocean. Not far off, the Ile des Landes, where his mission lies. Further out to sea, the Herpin Lighthouse. Beyond that, the Iles de Chausey.
Great cormorants fly menacingly above him.
Weak-weak! cry the great cormorants.
It's not their usual cry. More like a comment.
Go! says Gaius.
Saint Roley teeters.
He isn't ready.
Hey! cries Terence. We're here!
Belle and Gaius turn at the same moment, to see Jeanne Jugan, screeching to a halt on her rattly bicycle, and Terence and Baldy, covered in webs, shouting from her dirty basket.
Crikey! says Belle. Why have you got Terence and Baldy? Who are you?
Jeanne Jugan, pants Jeanne Jugan.
Saint Jeanne Jugan! says Belle. I thought I recognised you. You look whacked. Have a caramel.
Thank you, dear, says Jeane Jugan. I have ridden like the clappers to get here in time. Méen and Maclou are my friends. I've brought the children.
Why? asks Gaius.
Well.... says Jeanne Jugan. They are your charges, and Saint Roley is their bird. I wish to assist in the mission. I like to feel useful.
You're very welcome, says Belle. Do you know much about birds? Saint Roley is trying to pluck up some courage.
I know all about courage, says Jeanne Jugan. I was....
She was a witch, says Terence.
She knows spells, says Baldy.
Saint Roley calms down. A spell would be helpful.
Sunday, October 8, 2017
Can't Found It
How did he do it? asks Saint Roley.
Do what? says Belle.
Teach the baby bristlebird to fly, says Saint Roley.
We never knew, says Belle. Arthur took him out of the office for a few minutes, and when they came back the baby could fly.
Threw him down the stairs, says Gaius.
I wasn't going to say, says Belle. But yes. We suspected that Arthur threw the bird down the stairs. Like when you teach someone swimming by throwing them in at the deep end.
Saint Roley is overloaded with cruel information.
Have a salted caramel, says Belle. Arthur's not here, anyway. We were just saying.
Saint Roley takes a salted caramel in his beak, and swallows it down.
.......
Jeanne Jugan pedals fast. She wants to catch up with the rest of the mission.
Terence and Baldy jiggle about in the basket, which is covered in webs.
Where are the spiders? asks Baldy.
Not yet founded! shouts Terence.
They collapse into sniggers.
Where are the spiders? shrieks Terence.
NOT YET FOUNDED! yells Baldy. Hee-hee!
Hee-hee, laughs Terence
It's even funnier the second time.
But not to Jeanne Jugan.
Don't mock, says Jeanne Jugan. When I spoke of a work not yet founded, I was speaking of my life's work.
Why did you lose it? asks Terence.
Founding is not finding, says Jeanne Jugan.
You can't found your spiders! yells Baldy, who is not into fine points of grammar.
She can't found her work, says Terence. Weren't you listening?
Thank you, Terence, says Jeanne Jugan. I see you are interested in my story, even if Baldy is not.
Sweezus lost his work once, says Terence. He swore. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I'm sure you are not allowed to say that, says Jeanne Jugan. And I didn't lose it, I began it. I founded The Little Sisters. It was the reason I never got married, although I was asked.
She lapses into a reverie. Six years apart. The dear man. He asked her twice.
Do what? says Belle.
Teach the baby bristlebird to fly, says Saint Roley.
We never knew, says Belle. Arthur took him out of the office for a few minutes, and when they came back the baby could fly.
Threw him down the stairs, says Gaius.
I wasn't going to say, says Belle. But yes. We suspected that Arthur threw the bird down the stairs. Like when you teach someone swimming by throwing them in at the deep end.
Saint Roley is overloaded with cruel information.
Have a salted caramel, says Belle. Arthur's not here, anyway. We were just saying.
Saint Roley takes a salted caramel in his beak, and swallows it down.
.......
Jeanne Jugan pedals fast. She wants to catch up with the rest of the mission.
Terence and Baldy jiggle about in the basket, which is covered in webs.
Where are the spiders? asks Baldy.
Not yet founded! shouts Terence.
They collapse into sniggers.
Where are the spiders? shrieks Terence.
NOT YET FOUNDED! yells Baldy. Hee-hee!
Hee-hee, laughs Terence
It's even funnier the second time.
But not to Jeanne Jugan.
Don't mock, says Jeanne Jugan. When I spoke of a work not yet founded, I was speaking of my life's work.
Why did you lose it? asks Terence.
Founding is not finding, says Jeanne Jugan.
You can't found your spiders! yells Baldy, who is not into fine points of grammar.
She can't found her work, says Terence. Weren't you listening?
Thank you, Terence, says Jeanne Jugan. I see you are interested in my story, even if Baldy is not.
Sweezus lost his work once, says Terence. He swore. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I'm sure you are not allowed to say that, says Jeanne Jugan. And I didn't lose it, I began it. I founded The Little Sisters. It was the reason I never got married, although I was asked.
She lapses into a reverie. Six years apart. The dear man. He asked her twice.
Saturday, October 7, 2017
Unreliable Means
The bicycle recedes in the distance, towards the Grand Randonnée.
Should we have let them go with Jeanne Jugan? asks Maclou. We were in charge for the day.
We're all saints together, says Méen.
She appears to have hung up her halo, says Maclou.
Women do that, says Méen. It doesn't mean anything.
So much for responsible child care.
....
The bicycle rattles even more than it used to.
Jeanne pedals on, black tee shirt and pedal pushers flapping.
Are you a witch? asks Baldy from the basket.
What gave you that idea? asks Jeanne Jugan.
Terence, says Baldy.
What gave him that idea? asks Jeanne Jugan.
You SAID IT, says Terence.
I would never have said it, says Jeanne.
A shepherdess, a kitchen maid and after, a witch, says Terence.
Jeanne thinks back to the café, and her recollections, which were interrupted when Terence spilt the sugar.
AFTER WHICH! says Jeanne Jugan.
YES! says Terence. And you wear black clothes.
I hadn't finished, says Jeanne Jugan. I was going to say, that I had been a kitchen maid, AFTER WHICH I did something different.
Cast spells, says Baldy.
I worked for the Viscountesse de la Cloue, says Jeanne Jugan. We visited the poor. I was called by god to a work not yet founded.
Baldy looks at Terence. 'Not yet founded'. That's a good one.
Perhaps they could make it a game.
......
Gaius, Belle and Saint Roley are well ahead of Jeanne Jugan, on the way to Pointe du Grouin.
They have stopped for a break.
What a magnificent region, says Gaius, chewing on a salted caramel.
You can see why they call it the Emerald Coast, says Belle. The sea is so clear and sparkling, and kind of... stripy.
Stripy, says Gaius. You are right. Azure, wine dark and emerald, with foaming white horses.
What do you think, Saint Roley? says Belle.
I have been thinking deeply, says Saint Roley. The bird sanctuary is on an island.
It is, says Gaius. Oh, I see. How shall you get there?
How shall I get there? asks Saint Roley. I am reluctant to trust my life to a vessel.
Understandable, says Gaius. The cardboard potato box was most unreliable, but you being in it was an accident.
Saint Roley sniffs, remembering his brother, Saint Malo, who is still out there somewhere, on an even less reliable section of cardboard (as the best case scenario).
Accident it may have been, says Belle, but we don't have a vessel. Perhaps you could learn how to fly.
That's what I have been considering, says Saint Roley. All I need is someone to teach me.
Arthur, says Gaius. He taught a bird to fly once. I recall it distinctly.
Why yes ! So do I, exclaims Belle. It was that little baby bristlebird!
How did he do it? asks Saint Roley.
Saint Roley feels suddenly nervous, because it was Arthur.
Should we have let them go with Jeanne Jugan? asks Maclou. We were in charge for the day.
We're all saints together, says Méen.
She appears to have hung up her halo, says Maclou.
Women do that, says Méen. It doesn't mean anything.
So much for responsible child care.
....
The bicycle rattles even more than it used to.
Jeanne pedals on, black tee shirt and pedal pushers flapping.
Are you a witch? asks Baldy from the basket.
What gave you that idea? asks Jeanne Jugan.
Terence, says Baldy.
What gave him that idea? asks Jeanne Jugan.
You SAID IT, says Terence.
I would never have said it, says Jeanne.
A shepherdess, a kitchen maid and after, a witch, says Terence.
Jeanne thinks back to the café, and her recollections, which were interrupted when Terence spilt the sugar.
AFTER WHICH! says Jeanne Jugan.
YES! says Terence. And you wear black clothes.
I hadn't finished, says Jeanne Jugan. I was going to say, that I had been a kitchen maid, AFTER WHICH I did something different.
Cast spells, says Baldy.
I worked for the Viscountesse de la Cloue, says Jeanne Jugan. We visited the poor. I was called by god to a work not yet founded.
Baldy looks at Terence. 'Not yet founded'. That's a good one.
Perhaps they could make it a game.
......
Gaius, Belle and Saint Roley are well ahead of Jeanne Jugan, on the way to Pointe du Grouin.
They have stopped for a break.
What a magnificent region, says Gaius, chewing on a salted caramel.
You can see why they call it the Emerald Coast, says Belle. The sea is so clear and sparkling, and kind of... stripy.
Stripy, says Gaius. You are right. Azure, wine dark and emerald, with foaming white horses.
What do you think, Saint Roley? says Belle.
I have been thinking deeply, says Saint Roley. The bird sanctuary is on an island.
It is, says Gaius. Oh, I see. How shall you get there?
How shall I get there? asks Saint Roley. I am reluctant to trust my life to a vessel.
Understandable, says Gaius. The cardboard potato box was most unreliable, but you being in it was an accident.
Saint Roley sniffs, remembering his brother, Saint Malo, who is still out there somewhere, on an even less reliable section of cardboard (as the best case scenario).
Accident it may have been, says Belle, but we don't have a vessel. Perhaps you could learn how to fly.
That's what I have been considering, says Saint Roley. All I need is someone to teach me.
Arthur, says Gaius. He taught a bird to fly once. I recall it distinctly.
Why yes ! So do I, exclaims Belle. It was that little baby bristlebird!
How did he do it? asks Saint Roley.
Saint Roley feels suddenly nervous, because it was Arthur.
Friday, October 6, 2017
Coherent, Until The Cheese
Let's sit in the sunshine, says Jeanne Jugan. The café Casse-Croute Compagnie is nearby.
Good idea, says Maclou. I could do with a coffee, if you're paying.
I'll fix it, says Jeanne Jugan. Come. We should leave, before the children's misdemeanour is spotted.
Indeed, says Méen. Come, Terence and Baldy. Put the visitor's book and pen back on the table.
I'll do it, says Jeanne.
They leave the Musée de Cancale, and head over to the café Casse-Croute Compagnie. They sit outside, on orange folding chairs beside a square table.
Jeanne orders three coffees.
What about us? asks Terence.
Too young, says Jeanne. Now tell me of our mission.
Saint Roley is doing it, says Terence.
There is no such saint, says Jeanne.
He's a young oystercatcher, says Méen.
Gatherer, I suppose you mean, says Jeanne Jugan.
No, says Maclou. Bird.
A remarkable one, says Méen. He speaks fluently. He composes poetry. And is extremely devoted to the elderly.
What's the elderly? asks Terence.
You know, says Baldy. Oyster granny.
I too have been devoted to the elderly, says Jeanne Jugan. My whole life, if you don't count the early days, when I was shepherdess.
A shepherdess, Jeanne! says Maclou.
Oh yes, says Jeanne. I learned to knit and spin wool. Then I worked as a kitchen maid, after which....
The coffee arrives.
Forgive an old woman, says Jeanne. Continue, Terence.
Terence has been opening a paper sachet of sugar. He continues.
He rips off the top and spills sugar all over the table.
Baldy nudges Terence.
What? asks Terence.
The MISSION, says Baldy.
You tell it, says Terence. I have to pick up the sugar.
Baldy takes up the story.
Saint Roley has to teach the other oystercatchers not to be stupid, says Baldy. Because they are stupid.
Why? asks Jeanne Jugan.
It is clear she knows nothing of birds.
They build their scrapes in low places, says Baldy. Then the sea washes their eggs away. Then they build more nests in the same places. We used some red cheeses.
It was a coherent story, up to the red cheeses.
Hum, says Jeanne Jugan. And where is Saint Roley right now?
At Pointe du Grouin with Gaius, a natural historian, and Belle, his team leader, says Méen.
She's not the team leader, says Terence.
She is now, says Baldy. We should have gone with them. Instead of going to the Musements.
Where you met me, says Jeanne Jugan. Everything happens for a reason. I shall go home and get my bicycle. Wait here. I'll be back shortly.
Shortly.
Jeanne Jugan comes back with a rattly old bicycle, covered in webs. She is wearing long black loose pedal pushers, and a loose black tee shirt.
Get in my basket, children, says Jeanne. We are going to Pointe du Grouin, on a mission. What happened to my coffee?
You drank it, says Méen.
Maclou stifles a grin. They both know who drank it.
Good idea, says Maclou. I could do with a coffee, if you're paying.
I'll fix it, says Jeanne Jugan. Come. We should leave, before the children's misdemeanour is spotted.
Indeed, says Méen. Come, Terence and Baldy. Put the visitor's book and pen back on the table.
I'll do it, says Jeanne.
They leave the Musée de Cancale, and head over to the café Casse-Croute Compagnie. They sit outside, on orange folding chairs beside a square table.
Jeanne orders three coffees.
What about us? asks Terence.
Too young, says Jeanne. Now tell me of our mission.
Saint Roley is doing it, says Terence.
There is no such saint, says Jeanne.
He's a young oystercatcher, says Méen.
Gatherer, I suppose you mean, says Jeanne Jugan.
No, says Maclou. Bird.
A remarkable one, says Méen. He speaks fluently. He composes poetry. And is extremely devoted to the elderly.
What's the elderly? asks Terence.
You know, says Baldy. Oyster granny.
I too have been devoted to the elderly, says Jeanne Jugan. My whole life, if you don't count the early days, when I was shepherdess.
A shepherdess, Jeanne! says Maclou.
Oh yes, says Jeanne. I learned to knit and spin wool. Then I worked as a kitchen maid, after which....
The coffee arrives.
Forgive an old woman, says Jeanne. Continue, Terence.
Terence has been opening a paper sachet of sugar. He continues.
He rips off the top and spills sugar all over the table.
Baldy nudges Terence.
What? asks Terence.
The MISSION, says Baldy.
You tell it, says Terence. I have to pick up the sugar.
Baldy takes up the story.
Saint Roley has to teach the other oystercatchers not to be stupid, says Baldy. Because they are stupid.
Why? asks Jeanne Jugan.
It is clear she knows nothing of birds.
They build their scrapes in low places, says Baldy. Then the sea washes their eggs away. Then they build more nests in the same places. We used some red cheeses.
It was a coherent story, up to the red cheeses.
Hum, says Jeanne Jugan. And where is Saint Roley right now?
At Pointe du Grouin with Gaius, a natural historian, and Belle, his team leader, says Méen.
She's not the team leader, says Terence.
She is now, says Baldy. We should have gone with them. Instead of going to the Musements.
Where you met me, says Jeanne Jugan. Everything happens for a reason. I shall go home and get my bicycle. Wait here. I'll be back shortly.
Shortly.
Jeanne Jugan comes back with a rattly old bicycle, covered in webs. She is wearing long black loose pedal pushers, and a loose black tee shirt.
Get in my basket, children, says Jeanne. We are going to Pointe du Grouin, on a mission. What happened to my coffee?
You drank it, says Méen.
Maclou stifles a grin. They both know who drank it.
Thursday, October 5, 2017
Science Of Feet
There is a visitors' book, with a pen on a string near the doorway.
We could use that, says Terence.
Okay, says Baldy.
Terence picks up the pen. The visitors' book falls to the floor.
Pick it up! says Terence. You carry the book, I'll carry the pen. Let's do some drawing.
Like what? says Baldy.
Like Splosh! says Terence.
Okay, says Baldy. Shall I open the book?
NO! says Terence. It's a MESSAGE! Choose a painting.
Méen and Maclou are nearby, looking at a painting of nineteenth century female oyster gatherers, by Auguste Feyen.
The female oyster gatherers do not wear shoes. They wear dark blouses, long skirts, and aprons. They have long legs. Their feet are red, splay-toed and large.
Wonderful feet, says Méen.
Only natural, I suppose, says Maclou. Tall girls, large feet.
Is there some evolutionary reason? asks Méen.
Balance, says Maclou, who has read something on the subject.
Méen sees no reason to doubt it.
They move on to a painting of the bay of Mont Saint Michel, by the other Feyen brother.
Terence appears with the pen on a string, Baldy holding the visitors' book up behind him.
Terence draws a watery line across the female oyster gatherers' ankles.
That's too low, says Baldy.
Okay. Lift the book higher, says Terence.
Baldy drops it.
Arétez! says an angry old woman in black. Who is in charge of these children?
They are, says Terence, pointing to Méen and Maclou.
Jeanne Jugan! cries Méen, who has seen her already.
Méen! says Jeanne Jugan. Look what these infants have done!
I don't see anything, says Méen.
It's here, says Terence. It's a message!
About wet feet, says Baldy. They go rusty.
Yours would, says Terence. Mine wouldn't. And that's not the message.
What is the message? asks Jeanne Jugan.
She is quite prepared to receive a decent message. They are thin on the ground in Cancale.
These infants are part of a team on a mission, says Maclou.
(best if Terence is not left to explain it).
A misson! Jeanne's ears perk up.
Tell me of the mission, says Jeanne. I may join them.
I thought you had enough to do, says Méen.
No no, says Jeanne. Pas du tout. It's a long time since I put my feet up.
We could use that, says Terence.
Okay, says Baldy.
Terence picks up the pen. The visitors' book falls to the floor.
Pick it up! says Terence. You carry the book, I'll carry the pen. Let's do some drawing.
Like what? says Baldy.
Like Splosh! says Terence.
Okay, says Baldy. Shall I open the book?
NO! says Terence. It's a MESSAGE! Choose a painting.
Méen and Maclou are nearby, looking at a painting of nineteenth century female oyster gatherers, by Auguste Feyen.
The female oyster gatherers do not wear shoes. They wear dark blouses, long skirts, and aprons. They have long legs. Their feet are red, splay-toed and large.
Wonderful feet, says Méen.
Only natural, I suppose, says Maclou. Tall girls, large feet.
Is there some evolutionary reason? asks Méen.
Balance, says Maclou, who has read something on the subject.
Méen sees no reason to doubt it.
They move on to a painting of the bay of Mont Saint Michel, by the other Feyen brother.
Terence appears with the pen on a string, Baldy holding the visitors' book up behind him.
Terence draws a watery line across the female oyster gatherers' ankles.
That's too low, says Baldy.
Okay. Lift the book higher, says Terence.
Baldy drops it.
Arétez! says an angry old woman in black. Who is in charge of these children?
They are, says Terence, pointing to Méen and Maclou.
Jeanne Jugan! cries Méen, who has seen her already.
Méen! says Jeanne Jugan. Look what these infants have done!
I don't see anything, says Méen.
It's here, says Terence. It's a message!
About wet feet, says Baldy. They go rusty.
Yours would, says Terence. Mine wouldn't. And that's not the message.
What is the message? asks Jeanne Jugan.
She is quite prepared to receive a decent message. They are thin on the ground in Cancale.
These infants are part of a team on a mission, says Maclou.
(best if Terence is not left to explain it).
A misson! Jeanne's ears perk up.
Tell me of the mission, says Jeanne. I may join them.
I thought you had enough to do, says Méen.
No no, says Jeanne. Pas du tout. It's a long time since I put my feet up.
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
Time On Their Hands And No Pencil
Good. That's done, says Gaius. Now to get on.
What are your plans exactly? asks Maclou.
Locate the bird sanctuary, says Gaius. Recover our bicycles. I assume you still have them.
Yes, says Maclou. They're behind the Eglise de Saint Méen. Will Terence and Baldy go with you?
I suppose so, sighs Gaius. But Saint Roley's the one that we need.
Why don't you leave the infants with us for the day? says Maclou. There's a Museum on the far side of the square. Do they like museums?
Ask them, says Gaius. Terence! Baldy! Stop throwing sand and come here. Do you like Museums?
YES! says Terence.
What are they? asks Baldy.
You know, says Terence. Musements
That's very clever Terence, says Maclou. Did you invent that?
Yes, says Terence. Want me to do it with your name?
Go ahead, says Maclou. But my name is tricky. Try Méen.
Too easy, says Terence. He's mean.
No he isn't, says Baldy. What about my name?
I gave you that name, says Terence. So it doesn't count actually.
I see that, says Maclou. Because he has colourful curls. So, what about this Museum outing?
OKAY! says Terence. Let's go. I'll get Saint Roley.
Saint Roley is paying his last respects to oyster granny.
If I ever go on another sea voyage, says Saint Roley, to the sand covering oyster granny (and her cushion), I shall fear not, although I hope it won't happen.
Come ON! cries Terence. We're going to the musements.
That seems inappropriate, says Saint Roley.
You're not going, says Gaius. You're coming with me.
......
Belle is waiting outside the Eglise de Saint Méen, with both bicycles.
There you are, Gaius, says Belle. I've packed us a picnic.
Very good, says Gaius. Where is Arthur?
He doesn't have a bike, says Belle. He borrowed yours when he had to chase after Maclou when we thought Saint Roley was missing. Remember?
Of course, says Gaius. He will no doubt obtain one. Does he know where we're going?
Do you? asks Belle.
Not exactly, says Gaius. But there's a bird sanctuary in this vicinity. Arthur will have an idea.
He won't, says Belle. But I do. We ride up the coast a few kilometres to Point de Grouin. It's the closest point to Ile des Landes, the island bird sanctuary. It's home to thousands of pairs of gulls. There are large cormorants, crested cormorants, seagulls and oystercatchers...
Bingo! says Gaius.
.....
Terence and Baldy are spending the day with Méen and Maclou, at the Cancale Museum.
They are regretting their decision.
There is an exhibition of paintings by the Feyen brothers, Jacques-Eugène and Auguste, on display at the moment.
And Méen and Maclou, having time on their hands, look closely at every one.
It would be more fun if Terence and Baldy had their Prismalo pencils.
But Belle has them, in her back pack.
What are your plans exactly? asks Maclou.
Locate the bird sanctuary, says Gaius. Recover our bicycles. I assume you still have them.
Yes, says Maclou. They're behind the Eglise de Saint Méen. Will Terence and Baldy go with you?
I suppose so, sighs Gaius. But Saint Roley's the one that we need.
Why don't you leave the infants with us for the day? says Maclou. There's a Museum on the far side of the square. Do they like museums?
Ask them, says Gaius. Terence! Baldy! Stop throwing sand and come here. Do you like Museums?
YES! says Terence.
What are they? asks Baldy.
You know, says Terence. Musements
That's very clever Terence, says Maclou. Did you invent that?
Yes, says Terence. Want me to do it with your name?
Go ahead, says Maclou. But my name is tricky. Try Méen.
Too easy, says Terence. He's mean.
No he isn't, says Baldy. What about my name?
I gave you that name, says Terence. So it doesn't count actually.
I see that, says Maclou. Because he has colourful curls. So, what about this Museum outing?
OKAY! says Terence. Let's go. I'll get Saint Roley.
Saint Roley is paying his last respects to oyster granny.
If I ever go on another sea voyage, says Saint Roley, to the sand covering oyster granny (and her cushion), I shall fear not, although I hope it won't happen.
Come ON! cries Terence. We're going to the musements.
That seems inappropriate, says Saint Roley.
You're not going, says Gaius. You're coming with me.
......
Belle is waiting outside the Eglise de Saint Méen, with both bicycles.
There you are, Gaius, says Belle. I've packed us a picnic.
Very good, says Gaius. Where is Arthur?
He doesn't have a bike, says Belle. He borrowed yours when he had to chase after Maclou when we thought Saint Roley was missing. Remember?
Of course, says Gaius. He will no doubt obtain one. Does he know where we're going?
Do you? asks Belle.
Not exactly, says Gaius. But there's a bird sanctuary in this vicinity. Arthur will have an idea.
He won't, says Belle. But I do. We ride up the coast a few kilometres to Point de Grouin. It's the closest point to Ile des Landes, the island bird sanctuary. It's home to thousands of pairs of gulls. There are large cormorants, crested cormorants, seagulls and oystercatchers...
Bingo! says Gaius.
.....
Terence and Baldy are spending the day with Méen and Maclou, at the Cancale Museum.
They are regretting their decision.
There is an exhibition of paintings by the Feyen brothers, Jacques-Eugène and Auguste, on display at the moment.
And Méen and Maclou, having time on their hands, look closely at every one.
It would be more fun if Terence and Baldy had their Prismalo pencils.
But Belle has them, in her back pack.
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
Oyster Funeral
Butterball is not allowed to come.
Not until he has given the Virgin a full account of the state of the cushions.
We can't wait, says Terence.
See if I care, says Butterball.
Méen has some tidying to do. The life buoy needs rehanging, for instance.
So the funeral entourage consists of Terence and Baldy, Saint Roley, Gaius and Maclou.
It will be sufficient.
They walk down the Rue de la Vallée Porcon, Saint Roley bearing oyster granny, on one of the cushions.
This is quite an occasion, observes Maclou. Saint Roley has written a poem.
Yes, says Gaius. It rhymes, which pleases Terence.
Not you? says Maclou.
Sweet eternal pause, says Gaius. It seems contradictory.
I was quite taken with it, says Maclou. A pause which lasts indefinitely.
Eternally says Gaius. Therefore, strictly speaking, it isn't a pause.
I'm sure it's neither here nor there to oyster granny, says Maclou.
True, says Gaius. As long as Saint Roley is happy.
You have great plans for Saint Roley? says Maclou.
Indeed, says Gaius. It is most advantageous that he has become articulate. He can spread the word amongst his fellow oystercatchers about the effects of rising sea levels.
Assuming they understand what he says, says Maclou. For they are not all so blessed.
But now they have reached the beach at Cancale. The beach is pebbly, with rocks at each end.
Terence and Baldy run onto the sand, to find a good spot to bury oyster granny.
Saint Roley stands still, with the cushion.
Oyster granny does nothing.
She has already begun her sweet eternal pause.
A hole is dug.
Any good? asks Terence.
Deeper, says Baldy. Someone might cut their foot.
It is true. Oyster granny is sharpish.
Saint Roley tiptoes forward, and places the cushion over the hole.
What's this? says Maclou. Are we also burying the cushion?
Yes, says Saint Roley. It won't be sweet otherwise.
Make the hole bigger, says Gaius. But hurry.
Terence and Baldy scrape out a great quantity of sand.
The cushion fits in now. Oyster granny lies in her last resting place, on a cushion.
O Oyster Granny..... begins Saint Roley.
Not until he has given the Virgin a full account of the state of the cushions.
We can't wait, says Terence.
See if I care, says Butterball.
Méen has some tidying to do. The life buoy needs rehanging, for instance.
So the funeral entourage consists of Terence and Baldy, Saint Roley, Gaius and Maclou.
It will be sufficient.
They walk down the Rue de la Vallée Porcon, Saint Roley bearing oyster granny, on one of the cushions.
This is quite an occasion, observes Maclou. Saint Roley has written a poem.
Yes, says Gaius. It rhymes, which pleases Terence.
Not you? says Maclou.
Sweet eternal pause, says Gaius. It seems contradictory.
I was quite taken with it, says Maclou. A pause which lasts indefinitely.
Eternally says Gaius. Therefore, strictly speaking, it isn't a pause.
I'm sure it's neither here nor there to oyster granny, says Maclou.
True, says Gaius. As long as Saint Roley is happy.
You have great plans for Saint Roley? says Maclou.
Indeed, says Gaius. It is most advantageous that he has become articulate. He can spread the word amongst his fellow oystercatchers about the effects of rising sea levels.
Assuming they understand what he says, says Maclou. For they are not all so blessed.
But now they have reached the beach at Cancale. The beach is pebbly, with rocks at each end.
Terence and Baldy run onto the sand, to find a good spot to bury oyster granny.
Saint Roley stands still, with the cushion.
Oyster granny does nothing.
She has already begun her sweet eternal pause.
A hole is dug.
Any good? asks Terence.
Deeper, says Baldy. Someone might cut their foot.
It is true. Oyster granny is sharpish.
Saint Roley tiptoes forward, and places the cushion over the hole.
What's this? says Maclou. Are we also burying the cushion?
Yes, says Saint Roley. It won't be sweet otherwise.
Make the hole bigger, says Gaius. But hurry.
Terence and Baldy scrape out a great quantity of sand.
The cushion fits in now. Oyster granny lies in her last resting place, on a cushion.
O Oyster Granny..... begins Saint Roley.
Monday, October 2, 2017
Sweet Eternal Pause
It's a funeral! says Terence. We're borrowing THIS!
He is lugging a life buoy, which he and Baldy have dislodged from the church wall.
This can go round oyster granny, says Terence. And no on will tread on her.
Saint Roley looks pleased.
He had not thought that someone might tread on oyster granny. But they might. And with the life buoy around her, they can't.
But Gaius is not sure they should be removing the life buoy.
It has been hung on the wall of a church, and has black words written on it.
ACTES DE CONTRITION.
No, says Gaius. Let's keep it simple. We shall carry the two parts of granny down to the shore, before anyone else gets there, and bury her quickly. That is what she would have wished.
He has made up the last bit. He never knew oyster granny. Or what she would have wished.
Fie Fie! breathes oyster granny.
Okay! says Terence. Let's wake everyone up. Baldy, you get Butterfatty.
Wait, says Saint Roley. I'm not ready.
Why not? says Gaius.
I want to compose a few words, says Saint Roley. I need pencil and paper.
Belle has our pencils, says Gaius. And she is asleep in the Hotel Nuit et Jour.
I'll ask Méen, says Saint Roley.
He flutters over to Méen and Maclou, emitting tiny sparks from his feathers.
The sparks drop onto Méen and Maclou and wake them.
Pencils! says Méen.
Paper! says Maclou.
It is wondrous the rapport that saints have with one other.
Saint Roley now has a pencil and paper.
Gaius wishes he found it that easy.
I'll help you, says Terence. Write what I tell you.
No, says Saint Roley. Oyster granny saved my life. You just be quiet.
He writes, slowly, as it is difficult to come up with the proper words for such an occasion:
O Oyster Granny
You were my oars
O oyster granny
My life is now yours
Lie under the sand dear
For a sweet eternal pause.
Sweet eternal pause? says Gaius.
Yay! says Terence. That's the best rhyming ever!
It is indeed, agrees Gaius hastily. Let's be off at once, before the beach becomes crowded
He is lugging a life buoy, which he and Baldy have dislodged from the church wall.
This can go round oyster granny, says Terence. And no on will tread on her.
Saint Roley looks pleased.
He had not thought that someone might tread on oyster granny. But they might. And with the life buoy around her, they can't.
But Gaius is not sure they should be removing the life buoy.
It has been hung on the wall of a church, and has black words written on it.
ACTES DE CONTRITION.
No, says Gaius. Let's keep it simple. We shall carry the two parts of granny down to the shore, before anyone else gets there, and bury her quickly. That is what she would have wished.
He has made up the last bit. He never knew oyster granny. Or what she would have wished.
Fie Fie! breathes oyster granny.
Okay! says Terence. Let's wake everyone up. Baldy, you get Butterfatty.
Wait, says Saint Roley. I'm not ready.
Why not? says Gaius.
I want to compose a few words, says Saint Roley. I need pencil and paper.
Belle has our pencils, says Gaius. And she is asleep in the Hotel Nuit et Jour.
I'll ask Méen, says Saint Roley.
He flutters over to Méen and Maclou, emitting tiny sparks from his feathers.
The sparks drop onto Méen and Maclou and wake them.
Pencils! says Méen.
Paper! says Maclou.
It is wondrous the rapport that saints have with one other.
Saint Roley now has a pencil and paper.
Gaius wishes he found it that easy.
I'll help you, says Terence. Write what I tell you.
No, says Saint Roley. Oyster granny saved my life. You just be quiet.
He writes, slowly, as it is difficult to come up with the proper words for such an occasion:
O Oyster Granny
You were my oars
O oyster granny
My life is now yours
Lie under the sand dear
For a sweet eternal pause.
Sweet eternal pause? says Gaius.
Yay! says Terence. That's the best rhyming ever!
It is indeed, agrees Gaius hastily. Let's be off at once, before the beach becomes crowded
Sunday, October 1, 2017
Knots And Unknots
Gaius has learned much from Francine.
That a mathematical knot differs from a real knot in that the ends are joined together, and that six billion mathematical knots have been identified already.
However, he feels it necessary to yawn politely.
Yes, says Belle, we should call it a night. Where are you guys staying?
Hotel Nuit et Jour, says Francine. Come on, Albert.
Ditto! says Belle. Come on Arthur.
Arthur picks up the butter knife, and is ready to go.
I'll sleep with the monks in the church, says François-René. I didn't catch up properly.
Because of the potatoes, says Belle. And because Arthur ate the rest of the feast.
Arthur doesn't recall it. But he must have done it, if Belle says so.
It's an unknot, he thinks.
It's an unknot, says Arthur, saying it out loud, to see if he gets a reaction.
How so? asks Francine.
I did it because she said I did it, says Arthur.
No similarity, says Francine. Unknots don't join up. I believe you have had too much existential conversation with Albert.
Yes, says Belle. And put down that butter knife.
Arthur puts down the butter knife, and contemplates pocketing alternative cutlery.
A dirty fork. A pizza cutter.
Why not both?
François-René heads off towards the Eglise de Saint Méen.
The place is quiet.
.......
In the morning, Gaius wakes early.
He heads across to the church.
He is keen to see Saint Roley and hear him speak for the first time, not counting Yes and Sasshoo.
The monks are sleeping on the hard floor, as monks do. François-René has joined them, with a cushion.
Terence and Baldy are whispering in a corner.
Butterball has been obliged to go back and stand in the Arctic Circle next to the Virgin, in the next room.
Saint Roley is stirring on his pile of kneeling cushions.
He has slept well.
His opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is oyster granny.
He turns his head, and the second thing he sees is her too.
O glory be to you, Oyster Granny says Saint Roley. Today I shall honour you. You shall be buried in sand, after I say a few words.
Fie fie!
A faint sound, emitted by the two halves of oyster granny.
Gaius looms.
It's me, says Gaius. I heard you. You have become surprisingly articulate, in a very short space of time.
I have, Gaius, says Saint Roley. And it's good to see you this fine morning.
(for the sun is streaming in through the stained glass windows, illuminating the Actes de Contritions).
Shall we get on with this funeral, says Gaius. Then we can get down to business.
But if he thinks he can hurry things up so simply, he has not factored in Terence.
Guess what ! says Terence.
That a mathematical knot differs from a real knot in that the ends are joined together, and that six billion mathematical knots have been identified already.
However, he feels it necessary to yawn politely.
Yes, says Belle, we should call it a night. Where are you guys staying?
Hotel Nuit et Jour, says Francine. Come on, Albert.
Ditto! says Belle. Come on Arthur.
Arthur picks up the butter knife, and is ready to go.
I'll sleep with the monks in the church, says François-René. I didn't catch up properly.
Because of the potatoes, says Belle. And because Arthur ate the rest of the feast.
Arthur doesn't recall it. But he must have done it, if Belle says so.
It's an unknot, he thinks.
It's an unknot, says Arthur, saying it out loud, to see if he gets a reaction.
How so? asks Francine.
I did it because she said I did it, says Arthur.
No similarity, says Francine. Unknots don't join up. I believe you have had too much existential conversation with Albert.
Yes, says Belle. And put down that butter knife.
Arthur puts down the butter knife, and contemplates pocketing alternative cutlery.
A dirty fork. A pizza cutter.
Why not both?
François-René heads off towards the Eglise de Saint Méen.
The place is quiet.
.......
In the morning, Gaius wakes early.
He heads across to the church.
He is keen to see Saint Roley and hear him speak for the first time, not counting Yes and Sasshoo.
The monks are sleeping on the hard floor, as monks do. François-René has joined them, with a cushion.
Terence and Baldy are whispering in a corner.
Butterball has been obliged to go back and stand in the Arctic Circle next to the Virgin, in the next room.
Saint Roley is stirring on his pile of kneeling cushions.
He has slept well.
His opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is oyster granny.
He turns his head, and the second thing he sees is her too.
O glory be to you, Oyster Granny says Saint Roley. Today I shall honour you. You shall be buried in sand, after I say a few words.
Fie fie!
A faint sound, emitted by the two halves of oyster granny.
Gaius looms.
It's me, says Gaius. I heard you. You have become surprisingly articulate, in a very short space of time.
I have, Gaius, says Saint Roley. And it's good to see you this fine morning.
(for the sun is streaming in through the stained glass windows, illuminating the Actes de Contritions).
Shall we get on with this funeral, says Gaius. Then we can get down to business.
But if he thinks he can hurry things up so simply, he has not factored in Terence.
Guess what ! says Terence.
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