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.