What now? asks Sweezus.
Paco regards him.
Doesn't he know?
We hike up to the second refuge, says Pauline. Get some shut-eye and then attempt the final stretch to the summit, arriving at dawn.
You are right, says Paco. Perhaps you know this from eating the stew.
The stew, no, says Pauline. Trip Advisor.
Another way to learn of the future, says Paco. It was a joke though. Shall we be going?
They pick up their gear. They are ready.
No need to rope you together, says Paco. Not till the final climb. Just watch where you're going.
They pass the stones piled up on the dead frogs.
Sweezus takes a photo.
He sends it to Gaius.
Maybe you shouldn't have done that, says Arthur.
Minutes later Sweezus's phone rings.
Hello, it's Gaius, says Gaius.
I know, says Sweezus. Did you get the photo?
Yes I did, says Gaius. Stones, with frogs' feet just visible. Not dead, are they?
Err, yes, says Sweezus. But they made it up to the first refuge, and they might have gone further.
Might have? says Gaius. Stick to the facts. No. On second thoughts, let me speak to Arthur.
Sweezus hands Arthur the phone.
What is it? asks Arthur. We're just starting out for the second refuge.
Don't let me stop you, says Gaius.
Arthur doesn't. They continue ascending. He, Paco, Pauline and Sweezus.
What exactly happened to the frogs? asks Gaius. I assume they're the tadpoles you began with.
Only two of them, says Arthur. We had to ditch the rest in a stream, before we started.
Why was that? asks Gaius.
Burst out of the bottle, says Arthur. And died.
Ours is a similar experience, says Gaius. But all our tadpoles have died. Which stream did you drop your tadpoles into?
The one near the bus stop, says Arthur.
Good man, says Gaius. Nil desperandum.....crackle crackle.
Arthur is now out of range.
Gaius hastens to relay the information to Simon and the rest of the team.
It is agreed that Saint Roley will fly back to the bus stop and locate the stream. There may be one or two tadpoles that revived when dropped in the water.
It's worth trying.
Otherwise the mission has all been in vain.
Saint Roley flies, straight and fast, on an empty stomach. There is the bus stop. There is the stream.
He lands gracefully.
Peers into the babbling water.
Yes, there are one or two tadpoles. Three! And two more advanced froglets, half in and half out of the water.
Do you speak? asks Saint Roley.
Do you eat frogs? asks a froglet.
Of course not, says Saint Roley, eyeing the tadpoles. I'm here in the interests of science.
Thursday, May 31, 2018
Wednesday, May 30, 2018
Salt Was Our Luck And Our Downfall
Everything okay? asks Pauline.
Yeah, says Sweezus.
Paco stirs the lentils.
Arthur watches the froglets expiring.
Only you mentioned bad luck on the phone just now, says Pauline.
That was just about Cherry, says Sweezus.
A relative? asks Pauline. Surely not a sweetheart?
An electronic parrot, says Sweezus. That was Terence on the phone, a little kid I know. His parrot fell into a swimming pool in Hawaii.
You could have warned him, says Pauline.
Paco looks up from the lentils.
How could that be?
What, with our Sea Salt? says Sweezus. It's not that effective.
It's effective, says Arthur. But only within certain parameters.
What's this about? asks Paco.
It indicates the future, says Arthur. But only the future of the person who's paid for it.
This make perfect sense to Pauline.
But Paco is doubtful.
What if I try it? says Paco. I'll pay you with one extra scoop of this stew.
Okay, says Arthur, taking out the Sea Salt.
What do I do? asks Paco.
Scatter it, says Sweezus. On the floor there.
Paco leans over the froglets to take a few particles from Arthur.
His hands are moist from the steam of the stew.
The salt sticks to his fingers.
He rubs his fingers together. Salt drops into the mouths of the frogs.
Mi culpa, says Paco. My fingers were steamy.
The frogs die at once.
Perhaps it's for the best, says Pauline. It was only going to get worse for them as we ascended.
What to do now with the frogs?
I'll deal with them, says Arthur. He picks them up and takes them outside.
He comes back to find a utensil.
Then goes outside again to where he has left them near the tombstones.
He can't be bothered to dig much of a hole.
Or any hole really.
He covers the froglets with stones, and scratches in the dirt with the utensil.
An elegy for the froglets.
"Salt was our luck and our downfall".
He goes back inside.
Paco has used the rest of the Sea Salt from his fingers to flavour the stew.
There are extra scoops for Arthur and Sweezus, although Paco is none the wiser about the future.
Paco is known for his good will.
So what happened to Cherry? asks Pauline. I suppose she stopped working?
Forgotten everything, says Sweezus. Even the square root of pi.
My my, says Pauline. What a treasure. What else? Could she tot up the shopping?
She could do twice times seven, says Sweezus. So, if you bought two seven dollar items...
Ha ha, laughs Paco. That is funny.
Yeah, says Sweezus.
Paco stirs the lentils.
Arthur watches the froglets expiring.
Only you mentioned bad luck on the phone just now, says Pauline.
That was just about Cherry, says Sweezus.
A relative? asks Pauline. Surely not a sweetheart?
An electronic parrot, says Sweezus. That was Terence on the phone, a little kid I know. His parrot fell into a swimming pool in Hawaii.
You could have warned him, says Pauline.
Paco looks up from the lentils.
How could that be?
What, with our Sea Salt? says Sweezus. It's not that effective.
It's effective, says Arthur. But only within certain parameters.
What's this about? asks Paco.
It indicates the future, says Arthur. But only the future of the person who's paid for it.
This make perfect sense to Pauline.
But Paco is doubtful.
What if I try it? says Paco. I'll pay you with one extra scoop of this stew.
Okay, says Arthur, taking out the Sea Salt.
What do I do? asks Paco.
Scatter it, says Sweezus. On the floor there.
Paco leans over the froglets to take a few particles from Arthur.
His hands are moist from the steam of the stew.
The salt sticks to his fingers.
He rubs his fingers together. Salt drops into the mouths of the frogs.
Mi culpa, says Paco. My fingers were steamy.
The frogs die at once.
Perhaps it's for the best, says Pauline. It was only going to get worse for them as we ascended.
What to do now with the frogs?
I'll deal with them, says Arthur. He picks them up and takes them outside.
He comes back to find a utensil.
Then goes outside again to where he has left them near the tombstones.
He can't be bothered to dig much of a hole.
Or any hole really.
He covers the froglets with stones, and scratches in the dirt with the utensil.
An elegy for the froglets.
"Salt was our luck and our downfall".
He goes back inside.
Paco has used the rest of the Sea Salt from his fingers to flavour the stew.
There are extra scoops for Arthur and Sweezus, although Paco is none the wiser about the future.
Paco is known for his good will.
So what happened to Cherry? asks Pauline. I suppose she stopped working?
Forgotten everything, says Sweezus. Even the square root of pi.
My my, says Pauline. What a treasure. What else? Could she tot up the shopping?
She could do twice times seven, says Sweezus. So, if you bought two seven dollar items...
Ha ha, laughs Paco. That is funny.
Tuesday, May 29, 2018
What Room For Joy?
Bienvenido, says Paco. Please enter.
Pauline enters the hut.
Wraack-ack! comes from the bottle.
Frogs? Up here? says Paco. May I ask why you've brought them?
Ask them, says Pauline.
Sweezus has entered. Arthur hasn't.
Yeah well, says Sweezus. Just keeping an eye on them for science.
They will die up here on Chimborazo, says Paco.
Maybe not, says Sweezus. They've been salted.
Ridiculous isn't it, says Pauline. These guys and their salt. They sell it.
It's not the same salt, says Sweezus.
Paco is not all that intereseted in what salt it is or isn't.
Sit, says Paco. I will prepare lentil stew. Where is the other climber?
Went to look at the tombstones, says Sweezus.
Arthur stands in a sloped boulder field, among the tombstones.
People who have died on the mountain.
He thinks of Bolívar, and how he saw Time, with scraps in his pockets.
He hears chopping, from inside the hut.
He goes inside. Paco is chopping the onions.
Estoy desolado, says Paco, but there is only one of me, and three of you. For the climb, will you mind being roped together?
Ha ha, laughs Pauline. I won't mind.
Like how close together? asks Sweezus.
Paco stirs the lentils.
Not too close, says Paco.
Wrack-ack! comes faintly from the bottle.
See to your frogs, says Paco.
Sweezus gets up.
The froglets have now absorbed their tails completely. Normally, a moment of joy.
But here they are, three quarters up Chimborazo, in a bottle, smelling nasty onions and finding their new lungs inadequate.
What room for joy?
And now here is a face staring into their bottle. Not the kind woman who sprinkled them with water. A man's face, showing minimal empathy.
They're kind of gasping, says Sweezus.
Take them out of the bottle, says Paco.
The froglets are taken out and placed on the stone floor.
Sweezus gets out his phone, and takes a photo.
It rings.
An unknown number.
Hi! says Sweezus.
Guess what! says Terence. I'm in Hawaii. There's a swimming pool.
Cool, says Sweezus. I'm on a mountain, with frogs. Remember those tadpoles?
No, says Terence. Remember Cherry?
No, says Sweezus. (But he does)
My electronic parrot, says Terence. She fell in the swimming pool.
Bad luck dude, says Sweezus. She okay?
She forgot everything, says Terence. Even the square root of pie. And all the expressions.
The line crackles. A new voice. Pablo Vicente Maldonado.
Everything all right there? asks Pablo Vicente Maldonado. Where are you?
First refuge, says Sweezus.
How are the tadpoles? The children have been asking.
Crackle crackle.....brrr.
The call ends abruptly.
Sweezus is glad, not having wanted to answer.
Pauline enters the hut.
Wraack-ack! comes from the bottle.
Frogs? Up here? says Paco. May I ask why you've brought them?
Ask them, says Pauline.
Sweezus has entered. Arthur hasn't.
Yeah well, says Sweezus. Just keeping an eye on them for science.
They will die up here on Chimborazo, says Paco.
Maybe not, says Sweezus. They've been salted.
Ridiculous isn't it, says Pauline. These guys and their salt. They sell it.
It's not the same salt, says Sweezus.
Paco is not all that intereseted in what salt it is or isn't.
Sit, says Paco. I will prepare lentil stew. Where is the other climber?
Went to look at the tombstones, says Sweezus.
Arthur stands in a sloped boulder field, among the tombstones.
People who have died on the mountain.
He thinks of Bolívar, and how he saw Time, with scraps in his pockets.
He hears chopping, from inside the hut.
He goes inside. Paco is chopping the onions.
Estoy desolado, says Paco, but there is only one of me, and three of you. For the climb, will you mind being roped together?
Ha ha, laughs Pauline. I won't mind.
Like how close together? asks Sweezus.
Paco stirs the lentils.
Not too close, says Paco.
Wrack-ack! comes faintly from the bottle.
See to your frogs, says Paco.
Sweezus gets up.
The froglets have now absorbed their tails completely. Normally, a moment of joy.
But here they are, three quarters up Chimborazo, in a bottle, smelling nasty onions and finding their new lungs inadequate.
What room for joy?
And now here is a face staring into their bottle. Not the kind woman who sprinkled them with water. A man's face, showing minimal empathy.
They're kind of gasping, says Sweezus.
Take them out of the bottle, says Paco.
The froglets are taken out and placed on the stone floor.
Sweezus gets out his phone, and takes a photo.
It rings.
An unknown number.
Hi! says Sweezus.
Guess what! says Terence. I'm in Hawaii. There's a swimming pool.
Cool, says Sweezus. I'm on a mountain, with frogs. Remember those tadpoles?
No, says Terence. Remember Cherry?
No, says Sweezus. (But he does)
My electronic parrot, says Terence. She fell in the swimming pool.
Bad luck dude, says Sweezus. She okay?
She forgot everything, says Terence. Even the square root of pie. And all the expressions.
The line crackles. A new voice. Pablo Vicente Maldonado.
Everything all right there? asks Pablo Vicente Maldonado. Where are you?
First refuge, says Sweezus.
How are the tadpoles? The children have been asking.
Crackle crackle.....brrr.
The call ends abruptly.
Sweezus is glad, not having wanted to answer.
Monday, May 28, 2018
Spoils Of The Ages
Beautiful place Idaho, says Pauline. Esto perpetua, that's our motto.
What's that mean? asks Sweezus.
Let it be forever, says Pauline. Of course, these days it's unlikely.
She is interrupted by froglets. Wrrack-ack!
She looks into the bottle.
How do they look? asks Sweezus.
Green, trembling, says Pauline. What altitude do they normally live at?
Dunno, says Sweezus. Anyway, these frogs are different. They've had an overdose.
Overdose of what? asks Pauline.
Of pool salt, says Arthur. It either kills them or makes them grow fast. These two are survivors.
Not so sure about that, says Pauline.
The froglets are not too sure either. But they do know what altitude they like.
Not this one.
Pauline goes on.
So you guys never heard of Simón Bolívar?
Nup, says Sweezus. But I guess he climbed Chimborazo.
And wrote a visionary poem, says Pauline. Mi delirio sobre el Chimborazo.
No kidding, says Sweezus. Delirio. That's like..... what, delirium?
Yes, says Pauline. He climbed right to the summit, it affected him deeply. No human foot had been planted on that sparkling crown, placed by the hands of Eternity on the high temples...
What? says Sweezus.
I'm quoting, says Pauline. Time appears to him, looking like an old man carrying the spoils of the ages...
Arthur feels in his red waterproof pocket.
Nothing.
Shorts, suggests Sweezus.
Arthur loosens the rope holding up his red waterproof trousers, shoves his hand under the waistband and tries his shorts pocket.
Brings out a pencil (Lydia's), an old bloody bandage, and the packet of Sea Salt.
Spoils of the ages, says Arthur.
Is that the salt that the frogs overdosed on? asks Pauline
No, says Arthur. This is our Prognosticating Sea Salt. We sell it.
Pauline laughs. Then she stops laughing. One can't laugh forever.
Prognosticating! says Pauline. I don't buy that! What's it's provenance?
The sea, says Sweezus. And the Great White Teacher in Newcastle. We've had trouble with the packaging.
Great White Teacher? says Pauline.
A shark, says Sweezus. A Great White. Not a racist.
Did you ask him? says Arthur.
Well, no. But why would you? says Sweezus.
I would have, says Pauline.
By now they are within sight of the first refuge, at four thousand eight hundred metres.
There's the refuge, and beyond it a graveyard.
Paco is waiting outside.
Cielos! thinks Paco. Doble reservado de nuevo!
(looks like he's double booked again)
What's that mean? asks Sweezus.
Let it be forever, says Pauline. Of course, these days it's unlikely.
She is interrupted by froglets. Wrrack-ack!
She looks into the bottle.
How do they look? asks Sweezus.
Green, trembling, says Pauline. What altitude do they normally live at?
Dunno, says Sweezus. Anyway, these frogs are different. They've had an overdose.
Overdose of what? asks Pauline.
Of pool salt, says Arthur. It either kills them or makes them grow fast. These two are survivors.
Not so sure about that, says Pauline.
The froglets are not too sure either. But they do know what altitude they like.
Not this one.
Pauline goes on.
So you guys never heard of Simón Bolívar?
Nup, says Sweezus. But I guess he climbed Chimborazo.
And wrote a visionary poem, says Pauline. Mi delirio sobre el Chimborazo.
No kidding, says Sweezus. Delirio. That's like..... what, delirium?
Yes, says Pauline. He climbed right to the summit, it affected him deeply. No human foot had been planted on that sparkling crown, placed by the hands of Eternity on the high temples...
What? says Sweezus.
I'm quoting, says Pauline. Time appears to him, looking like an old man carrying the spoils of the ages...
Arthur feels in his red waterproof pocket.
Nothing.
Shorts, suggests Sweezus.
Arthur loosens the rope holding up his red waterproof trousers, shoves his hand under the waistband and tries his shorts pocket.
Brings out a pencil (Lydia's), an old bloody bandage, and the packet of Sea Salt.
Spoils of the ages, says Arthur.
Is that the salt that the frogs overdosed on? asks Pauline
No, says Arthur. This is our Prognosticating Sea Salt. We sell it.
Pauline laughs. Then she stops laughing. One can't laugh forever.
Prognosticating! says Pauline. I don't buy that! What's it's provenance?
The sea, says Sweezus. And the Great White Teacher in Newcastle. We've had trouble with the packaging.
Great White Teacher? says Pauline.
A shark, says Sweezus. A Great White. Not a racist.
Did you ask him? says Arthur.
Well, no. But why would you? says Sweezus.
I would have, says Pauline.
By now they are within sight of the first refuge, at four thousand eight hundred metres.
There's the refuge, and beyond it a graveyard.
Paco is waiting outside.
Cielos! thinks Paco. Doble reservado de nuevo!
(looks like he's double booked again)
Sunday, May 27, 2018
We've Bonded
You're not going to leave them? says the fellow climber.
Err, no, says Sweezus. Maybe we shouldn't.
I hear a stream babbling, says the fellow climber. Let us pick them up and drop them in there.
We have to get going, says Arthur.
The fellow climber gives him a hard stare.
Arthur scoops up seventeen dead tadpoles, stuffs them in his pockets, and saunters across to the tiny stream where he ditches the tadpoles.
He returns.
If the bottle wasn't cut we could've filled it with water, says Arthur.
He gives her a hard stare.
Don't tell me you've come without water, says the fellow climber. You'll be sorry.
Sweezus picks up the cut bottle. It's still a container of sorts. Just got no lid on. And there's two fat frogs in it. Shit.
Give them here, says the fellow climber. These two are froglets. They've sprouted legs and started absorbing their tails. And of course, they are breathing using their lungs. Hello, little fellows.
The two froglets ignore her. They have more pressing problems.
I'm Pauline, says the fellow climber. We seem to have bonded. Shall we go up together?
It's not like they're going to answer, says Sweezus.
I was talking to you, says Pauline.
We've bonded? says Sweezus. Yeah well, we're going straight up. You're probably taking the road.
I'm not, says Pauline. We shall go up together. It'll be nice to have someone to talk to. And I have water. Also, a number of sandwiches.
Okay, says Sweezus. Let's go.
They start up Chimborazo.
Pauline is from Idaho. She likes talking.
Since my husband died, says Pauline, I've taken up climbing. I used to be a property manager. Good at it too. Always check the ceiling fans. That was my motto. Anyway, Cedric hated climbing. Hated poetry. I love poetry. Especially the exalted sort. That's why I chose Chimborazo.....
Arthur's a poet, says Sweezus.
Really, says Pauline. What about you?
Creative, says Sweezus. But not a poet. Arthur's like really awesome at poetry. He can...
Do you know Chimborazo? asks Pauline. I mean Chimborazo the poem. Written by Simón Bolívar? That's what inspired me.
Never heard of him, says Sweezus. No wait yeah, I have. Or....no. Bolivar's a water sewage treatment works north of Adelaide. That might be what....
Arthur smirks. The poetry discussion is not going all that well.
He decides to bring the conversation round to the sandwiches, by a roundabout method.
How are the froglets going? asks Arthur.
Pauline is carrying the cut bottle under one arm. She stops and looks in at the froglets.
They look a bit dry, says Pauline. I'll just sprinkle them with some water.
She stops and takes a water bottle from her backpack. Anyone like a sandwich?
Bit early, says Sweezus.
Never too early, says Pauline. These are cheese and pickle. These are sardine.
Arthur has a cheese and pickle. Sweezus has a sardine.
Pauline, chewing on a pickle, looks up at the snow covered summit.
Enveloped in the cloak of Iris I came... says Pauline.
Sweezus rolls his eyes at Arthur, but Arthur doesn't mind it.
Err, no, says Sweezus. Maybe we shouldn't.
I hear a stream babbling, says the fellow climber. Let us pick them up and drop them in there.
We have to get going, says Arthur.
The fellow climber gives him a hard stare.
Arthur scoops up seventeen dead tadpoles, stuffs them in his pockets, and saunters across to the tiny stream where he ditches the tadpoles.
He returns.
If the bottle wasn't cut we could've filled it with water, says Arthur.
He gives her a hard stare.
Don't tell me you've come without water, says the fellow climber. You'll be sorry.
Sweezus picks up the cut bottle. It's still a container of sorts. Just got no lid on. And there's two fat frogs in it. Shit.
Give them here, says the fellow climber. These two are froglets. They've sprouted legs and started absorbing their tails. And of course, they are breathing using their lungs. Hello, little fellows.
The two froglets ignore her. They have more pressing problems.
I'm Pauline, says the fellow climber. We seem to have bonded. Shall we go up together?
It's not like they're going to answer, says Sweezus.
I was talking to you, says Pauline.
We've bonded? says Sweezus. Yeah well, we're going straight up. You're probably taking the road.
I'm not, says Pauline. We shall go up together. It'll be nice to have someone to talk to. And I have water. Also, a number of sandwiches.
Okay, says Sweezus. Let's go.
They start up Chimborazo.
Pauline is from Idaho. She likes talking.
Since my husband died, says Pauline, I've taken up climbing. I used to be a property manager. Good at it too. Always check the ceiling fans. That was my motto. Anyway, Cedric hated climbing. Hated poetry. I love poetry. Especially the exalted sort. That's why I chose Chimborazo.....
Arthur's a poet, says Sweezus.
Really, says Pauline. What about you?
Creative, says Sweezus. But not a poet. Arthur's like really awesome at poetry. He can...
Do you know Chimborazo? asks Pauline. I mean Chimborazo the poem. Written by Simón Bolívar? That's what inspired me.
Never heard of him, says Sweezus. No wait yeah, I have. Or....no. Bolivar's a water sewage treatment works north of Adelaide. That might be what....
Arthur smirks. The poetry discussion is not going all that well.
He decides to bring the conversation round to the sandwiches, by a roundabout method.
How are the froglets going? asks Arthur.
Pauline is carrying the cut bottle under one arm. She stops and looks in at the froglets.
They look a bit dry, says Pauline. I'll just sprinkle them with some water.
She stops and takes a water bottle from her backpack. Anyone like a sandwich?
Bit early, says Sweezus.
Never too early, says Pauline. These are cheese and pickle. These are sardine.
Arthur has a cheese and pickle. Sweezus has a sardine.
Pauline, chewing on a pickle, looks up at the snow covered summit.
Enveloped in the cloak of Iris I came... says Pauline.
Sweezus rolls his eyes at Arthur, but Arthur doesn't mind it.
Saturday, May 26, 2018
Straight Up
Chimborazo entrance! says the bus driver.
This is where Arthur and Sweezus get off.
They gather their ice picks, helmets and crampons.
Gaius follows them to the door of the bus.
Do you have room for one bottle of tadpoles? asks Gaius.
Yeah, we do, says Sweezus. We forgot to bring water.
And snacks, says Arthur.
Ha ha, laughs Gaius. Don't drink the tadpoles.
As if, says Sweezus. Anyway, how come?
Simon fears they will soon be too large to come out through the neck of the bottle, says Gaius. We were wondering if, on your way up the mountain, you might drop a few off in a stream. Make a note of their location, and check on their progress when you return.
Why can't you guys do it? asks Sweezus.
We shall be monitoring the tadpoles in the second bottle, says Gaius.
Okay, says Sweezus. Okay, dude?
Sure, says Arthur. Why not?
The bus rumbles off towards Guaranda.
Did they take it? asks Simon. Did they agree to make notes?
Yes, says Gaius. We can rely on them. At least, Arthur. Dear me, I hope Arthur has a pencil.
He still has mine, says Lydia.
........
Sweezus and Arthur have arranged to meet Paco their guide at the first refuge, to save hiring a taxi.
It's a three hour hike if they follow the road.
An hour and a half if they go straight up the mountain.
What do you reckon? asks Sweezus. Straight up?
Straight up, says Arthur. First let's ditch the tadpoles.
Sweezus looks around for a stream.
Just ditch them, says Arthur. We can say they all died.
It is fortunate that the tadpoles can't hear through the plastic Marzano bottle.
Sweezus twists the lid off the bottle. Upturns it, A few drops of water drip out.
Fuck, says Sweezus. They're stuck in the bottle.
If we get them out, says Arthur, we can use the bottle for water.
Awesome, dude, says Sweezus. But how do we do it?
Poke them out with a stick, says Arthur.
What stick? asks Sweezus.
Arthur feels in his pocket.
I couldn't help overhearing, says a fellow climber who has also got off the bus. Would you like some assistance? I have a knife.
The fellow climber, a stout woman, whips her knife out, and takes hold of the bottle.
She makes a neat cut in the part where the bottle widens out.
And tips the tadpoles onto the footpath.
You could probably rescue one or two of them, says the woman. Look, these ones have legs.
It's true. Some of the tadpoles have almost turned into Riobamban marsupial tree frogs.
Sweezus gets his phone out, and takes a photo.
It's a good outcome, except for the cut in the bottle .
This is where Arthur and Sweezus get off.
They gather their ice picks, helmets and crampons.
Gaius follows them to the door of the bus.
Do you have room for one bottle of tadpoles? asks Gaius.
Yeah, we do, says Sweezus. We forgot to bring water.
And snacks, says Arthur.
Ha ha, laughs Gaius. Don't drink the tadpoles.
As if, says Sweezus. Anyway, how come?
Simon fears they will soon be too large to come out through the neck of the bottle, says Gaius. We were wondering if, on your way up the mountain, you might drop a few off in a stream. Make a note of their location, and check on their progress when you return.
Why can't you guys do it? asks Sweezus.
We shall be monitoring the tadpoles in the second bottle, says Gaius.
Okay, says Sweezus. Okay, dude?
Sure, says Arthur. Why not?
The bus rumbles off towards Guaranda.
Did they take it? asks Simon. Did they agree to make notes?
Yes, says Gaius. We can rely on them. At least, Arthur. Dear me, I hope Arthur has a pencil.
He still has mine, says Lydia.
........
Sweezus and Arthur have arranged to meet Paco their guide at the first refuge, to save hiring a taxi.
It's a three hour hike if they follow the road.
An hour and a half if they go straight up the mountain.
What do you reckon? asks Sweezus. Straight up?
Straight up, says Arthur. First let's ditch the tadpoles.
Sweezus looks around for a stream.
Just ditch them, says Arthur. We can say they all died.
It is fortunate that the tadpoles can't hear through the plastic Marzano bottle.
Sweezus twists the lid off the bottle. Upturns it, A few drops of water drip out.
Fuck, says Sweezus. They're stuck in the bottle.
If we get them out, says Arthur, we can use the bottle for water.
Awesome, dude, says Sweezus. But how do we do it?
Poke them out with a stick, says Arthur.
What stick? asks Sweezus.
Arthur feels in his pocket.
I couldn't help overhearing, says a fellow climber who has also got off the bus. Would you like some assistance? I have a knife.
The fellow climber, a stout woman, whips her knife out, and takes hold of the bottle.
She makes a neat cut in the part where the bottle widens out.
And tips the tadpoles onto the footpath.
You could probably rescue one or two of them, says the woman. Look, these ones have legs.
It's true. Some of the tadpoles have almost turned into Riobamban marsupial tree frogs.
Sweezus gets his phone out, and takes a photo.
It's a good outcome, except for the cut in the bottle .
Friday, May 25, 2018
Not Meaning Nothing
Here he is, a young oystercatcher, orphaned and brotherless, far from his birthplace in Brittany, on a bus to Chimborazo, beside a guinea pig who now has no need of his comforts.
Saint Roley is glum.
He looks through the window at a blue patch of sky, and the summit of Chimborazo in the distance.
Here we are, says Gaius. Sit here, girls. Talk to Saint Roley.
The child and her sister sit down.
I'll just go and check on the tadpoles, says Gaius. Saint Roley, these girls are interested in our mission.
Krvee! says Saint Roley.
He's sad, says the child to her sister.
He's sulking, says Princess Pacchu. Talk to me. I'm team leader.
Saint Roley can't believe what he's hearing. She's not team leader.
I heard, says the child's sister. You know the landscape. Do you live here?
Not here, says Princess Pacchu, I live on a steep farm across the valley from Devil's Nose.
So how can you be team leader? asks the child.
They're all similar, the slopes of volcanoes, says Princess Pacchu.
Krvee! says Saint Roley
Where will you leave the tadpoles? asks the child's sister.
In a glacial creek, says Princess Pacchu.
Won't it be freezing? asks the child's sister. What if they die?
They are robust tadpoles, says Princess Pacchu. Didn't you see them?
Yes, they saw them squeezed into two bottles of Marzano.
Why do they have to move to the slopes of a volcano? asks the child. What's wrong with their own home?
Nothing, says Princess Pacchu.
Nothing!
She is clearly ill-equipped to be the team leader.
Saint Roley stops feeling peevish.
Everything, says Saint Roley. Development is shrinking their habitat. And they are prone to chitridiomycosis. To relieve their condition, our team has brought pool salt, from Newcastle.
Why did the guinea pig say Nothing? asks the child's sister.
She didn't mean Nothing, says Saint Roley. She just didn't finish the sentence. She is new to the role of team leader. It's a role we have given her to cheer her up since she witnessed her fellow guinea pigs being eaten at the dinner table of Pedro Vicente Maldonado, back in Riobamba.
Wow! says the child's sister. He's famous.
That is not the point, says Saint Roley. She was devastated. I understood. I comforted her, but she has surpassed me in the art of recovery.
I did mean Nothing, says Princess Pacchu. But I see I was wrong. Saint Roley knows more than I do. And I had forgotten why I love him. It is good to be reminded of the terrible things we have seen and put behind us.
You love me? says Saint Roley.
Oops! says Princess Pacchu,
The bus stops suddenly.
Saint Roley is glum.
He looks through the window at a blue patch of sky, and the summit of Chimborazo in the distance.
Here we are, says Gaius. Sit here, girls. Talk to Saint Roley.
The child and her sister sit down.
I'll just go and check on the tadpoles, says Gaius. Saint Roley, these girls are interested in our mission.
Krvee! says Saint Roley.
He's sad, says the child to her sister.
He's sulking, says Princess Pacchu. Talk to me. I'm team leader.
Saint Roley can't believe what he's hearing. She's not team leader.
I heard, says the child's sister. You know the landscape. Do you live here?
Not here, says Princess Pacchu, I live on a steep farm across the valley from Devil's Nose.
So how can you be team leader? asks the child.
They're all similar, the slopes of volcanoes, says Princess Pacchu.
Krvee! says Saint Roley
Where will you leave the tadpoles? asks the child's sister.
In a glacial creek, says Princess Pacchu.
Won't it be freezing? asks the child's sister. What if they die?
They are robust tadpoles, says Princess Pacchu. Didn't you see them?
Yes, they saw them squeezed into two bottles of Marzano.
Why do they have to move to the slopes of a volcano? asks the child. What's wrong with their own home?
Nothing, says Princess Pacchu.
Nothing!
She is clearly ill-equipped to be the team leader.
Saint Roley stops feeling peevish.
Everything, says Saint Roley. Development is shrinking their habitat. And they are prone to chitridiomycosis. To relieve their condition, our team has brought pool salt, from Newcastle.
Why did the guinea pig say Nothing? asks the child's sister.
She didn't mean Nothing, says Saint Roley. She just didn't finish the sentence. She is new to the role of team leader. It's a role we have given her to cheer her up since she witnessed her fellow guinea pigs being eaten at the dinner table of Pedro Vicente Maldonado, back in Riobamba.
Wow! says the child's sister. He's famous.
That is not the point, says Saint Roley. She was devastated. I understood. I comforted her, but she has surpassed me in the art of recovery.
I did mean Nothing, says Princess Pacchu. But I see I was wrong. Saint Roley knows more than I do. And I had forgotten why I love him. It is good to be reminded of the terrible things we have seen and put behind us.
You love me? says Saint Roley.
Oops! says Princess Pacchu,
The bus stops suddenly.
Thursday, May 24, 2018
The OTHER Scientists
The road narrows. The bus rumbles by the sloped pastures, where cattle have been predicted.
Are there any?
No one is looking.
Why don't you girls go and talk to the OTHER scientists? says their mother.
We like these ones, says the child.
Sweezus and Arthur have not struck the mother as proper scientists.
Are you both eco-biologists? asks the mother.
No, says Sweezus, we're like, entrepreneurs. But we're taking a break to climb Chimborazo.
Yes, but you travel with scientists, says the mother. You must have an interest.
Long story, says Sweezus. I'm here because Arthur's here. He's here because Gaius reckons he's reliable.
He is more than reliable, says Gaius, who has been waiting for an opportunity to thank Arthur for bringing the guinea pig.
Is he? asks the mother. Well that's nice to know.
Yes, says Gaius. I just walked all the way up the bus to thank Arthur.
That's good, says Arthur. What did I do?
Obtained the guinea pig, says Gaius. She will prove invaluable. She understands the landscape.
The mother becomes more inclined to see Arthur as scientific.
So what is your background, Arthur? asks the mother.
Arthur does not like to say that his background is dubious. At seventeen, he ran away to Paris, lived with an older poet, fought him with knives and dead fish, drank litres of absinthe, ingested various substances, and produced some inimitable poems.
He's a cyclist, says Sweezus. Me too. So is Gaius. All of us wearing red pants.
Yes indeed, says Gaius. Sensible red waterproof trousers. Not the same team though. We have ridden the Tour de France for many years running.
Wow, says the older sister. Have you ever won it?
The short answer is no, says Gaius. But one keeps trying.
What about you? Have you ever won it? asks the child, looking at Arthur.
No, says Arthur. We could, but we don't practise.
The mother frowns again. These guys are poor role models.
Gaius perceives that she thinks it.
Would the girls like to come and talk to Saint Roley, so-called because he is an excellent role model? asks Gaius.
Yes, girls, says their mother. Go and talk to Saint Roley.
They walk back with Gaius to Saint Roley.
They have picked a bad time.
Saint Roley has just decided that his life has no meaning.
Are there any?
No one is looking.
Why don't you girls go and talk to the OTHER scientists? says their mother.
We like these ones, says the child.
Sweezus and Arthur have not struck the mother as proper scientists.
Are you both eco-biologists? asks the mother.
No, says Sweezus, we're like, entrepreneurs. But we're taking a break to climb Chimborazo.
Yes, but you travel with scientists, says the mother. You must have an interest.
Long story, says Sweezus. I'm here because Arthur's here. He's here because Gaius reckons he's reliable.
He is more than reliable, says Gaius, who has been waiting for an opportunity to thank Arthur for bringing the guinea pig.
Is he? asks the mother. Well that's nice to know.
Yes, says Gaius. I just walked all the way up the bus to thank Arthur.
That's good, says Arthur. What did I do?
Obtained the guinea pig, says Gaius. She will prove invaluable. She understands the landscape.
The mother becomes more inclined to see Arthur as scientific.
So what is your background, Arthur? asks the mother.
Arthur does not like to say that his background is dubious. At seventeen, he ran away to Paris, lived with an older poet, fought him with knives and dead fish, drank litres of absinthe, ingested various substances, and produced some inimitable poems.
He's a cyclist, says Sweezus. Me too. So is Gaius. All of us wearing red pants.
Yes indeed, says Gaius. Sensible red waterproof trousers. Not the same team though. We have ridden the Tour de France for many years running.
Wow, says the older sister. Have you ever won it?
The short answer is no, says Gaius. But one keeps trying.
What about you? Have you ever won it? asks the child, looking at Arthur.
No, says Arthur. We could, but we don't practise.
The mother frowns again. These guys are poor role models.
Gaius perceives that she thinks it.
Would the girls like to come and talk to Saint Roley, so-called because he is an excellent role model? asks Gaius.
Yes, girls, says their mother. Go and talk to Saint Roley.
They walk back with Gaius to Saint Roley.
They have picked a bad time.
Saint Roley has just decided that his life has no meaning.
Wednesday, May 23, 2018
The Child Capturer
The child holds up the guinea pig.
That's her, says Arthur. Let her go where she likes.
The child drops Princess Pacchu, who scuttles
under the seats of Buzz and Simon, not stopping,
under Tilly and Lydia, not stopping,
under Gaius, where she stops.
Saint Roley will be with Gaius! She snuffles.
What's that snuffling around my crocs? wonders Gaius.
He looks down. It's Princess Pacchu. He lifts her up beside Saint Roley.
Do you need cheering up? asks Saint Roley.
Yes, says Princess Pacchu.
I shall do it, says Saint Roley. Look out of the window.
Too high. She can't.
He was going to point out the tiny villages they are passing.
Each with their people, their lives.
I shall describe it all to you, says Saint Roley.
No need, says Princess Pacchu. In the distance, the snow-capped mountain peak. Below that, alpine meadows, threaded with glacial creeks. Below them sloped pastures, and dotted here and there, sparse farmsteads.This is my landscape. You might see cattle graze on the sloped pastures. Higher up, you might see vicuñas.
By the gods! says Gaius. Your local knowledge will be invaluable! I must congratulate Arthur.
He stands up, and wobbles down the bus....
..... to where Arthur is conversing with the child capturer.
I won't fall, says Arthur,
You might drop the tadpoles, says the child,
And freeze off my fingers, says Arthur.
And make new fingers of frozen tadpoles, and pull yourself out by the rope, says the child.
Then his waterproof pants would fall down, says Sweezus.
You're a natural poet, says Arthur.
The child giggles.
So does her sister.
But their mother frowns at the joke about pants.
That's her, says Arthur. Let her go where she likes.
The child drops Princess Pacchu, who scuttles
under the seats of Buzz and Simon, not stopping,
under Tilly and Lydia, not stopping,
under Gaius, where she stops.
Saint Roley will be with Gaius! She snuffles.
What's that snuffling around my crocs? wonders Gaius.
He looks down. It's Princess Pacchu. He lifts her up beside Saint Roley.
Do you need cheering up? asks Saint Roley.
Yes, says Princess Pacchu.
I shall do it, says Saint Roley. Look out of the window.
Too high. She can't.
He was going to point out the tiny villages they are passing.
Each with their people, their lives.
I shall describe it all to you, says Saint Roley.
No need, says Princess Pacchu. In the distance, the snow-capped mountain peak. Below that, alpine meadows, threaded with glacial creeks. Below them sloped pastures, and dotted here and there, sparse farmsteads.This is my landscape. You might see cattle graze on the sloped pastures. Higher up, you might see vicuñas.
By the gods! says Gaius. Your local knowledge will be invaluable! I must congratulate Arthur.
He stands up, and wobbles down the bus....
..... to where Arthur is conversing with the child capturer.
I won't fall, says Arthur,
You might drop the tadpoles, says the child,
And freeze off my fingers, says Arthur.
And make new fingers of frozen tadpoles, and pull yourself out by the rope, says the child.
Then his waterproof pants would fall down, says Sweezus.
You're a natural poet, says Arthur.
The child giggles.
So does her sister.
But their mother frowns at the joke about pants.
Tuesday, May 22, 2018
A Single Truth
The dead tadpoles have been cleared up by the cleaner. The floor is wiped dry.
A second Marzano bottle has been found for the live population.
The bus for Guaranda arrives.
This is our bus, says Simon. I'll ask the driver to let us off at the Chimborazo entrance.
Arthur picks up the boots that he dumped on the seat beside Saint Roley.
He and Sweezus get on the bus, with their ice picks and crampons.
The child and her sister can hardly believe this great piece of good luck.
This is their bus, the bus for Guaranda. They get on, with their mother.
Tilly, Lydia and Buzz get on with their frog-translocating equipment.
Gaius gets on last, with Saint Roley and Gastro, who is still in his reheatable plastic container,
And Princess Pacchu is still in a boot, under Arthur.
The bus starts up, and rolls out of the station.
Settled? asks Gaius.
No, says Saint Roley. This is not what I imagined.
In what way? asks Gaius.
I saw myself pointing out various truths to Princess Pacchu, says Saint Roley. By this means I intended to cheer her.
Waak-wak! comes a sound from the plastic container.
Cheer him up, says Gaius. I'll let him out for a moment.
He opens the container. Gastro hops out, and lands on the inside window ledge.
Saint Roley can't think of a single truth to point out to Gastro.
Gastro waits.
No. Nothing happens.
He hops forward to the next window. Now Gastro is beside Tilly and Lydia.
They ignore him, because they are looking at a list of birds that have come back from the brink of extinction. It's encouraging. If birds why not frogs?
He hops forward again. Now he's beside Buzz and Simon, and the two bottle of tadpoles, his siblings.
They don't look like him. Look at them, vacuously grinning.
He hops forward again, to the window of the child and her sister.
They are whispering about Arthur and Sweezus, the tops of whose heads they can see.
I don't think it's even a subject, whispers her sister.
It should be, whispers the child.
You could ask them, whispers her sister.
I'm too shy, whispers the child.
Look, the frog's got out, hisses her sister. It's on the window.
The child acts swiftly. She captures the frog.
Now you can talk to them, says the child to her sister.
Okay, says her sister. She taps Sweezus on the shoulder.
Excuse me!
Yeah what? says Sweezus turning round.
Here's your frog, says the sister. We found it on our window.
Cool, says Sweezus. Thanks heaps. How did you catch it?
My little sister caught it, says her sister.
Arthur turns round.
At last! The Poet!
The little sister anticipates what he might say.
Perhaps: I shall make a poem about the escape of the tree frog and its journey up the bus from window to window, and as the capturer, you shall be in it.
But Arthur doesn't. He was just wondering if the kids behind him had any snacks.
They don't, so he turns away again. Looks down at the stuff on on the floor.
Three boots. Where's the one with the guinea pig? Maybe he's kicked it.
He turns again.
The child has her head down. Something scrapes under his seat.
Seen my guinea pig? says Arthur.
Is it this one? asks the capturer child.
A second Marzano bottle has been found for the live population.
The bus for Guaranda arrives.
This is our bus, says Simon. I'll ask the driver to let us off at the Chimborazo entrance.
Arthur picks up the boots that he dumped on the seat beside Saint Roley.
He and Sweezus get on the bus, with their ice picks and crampons.
The child and her sister can hardly believe this great piece of good luck.
This is their bus, the bus for Guaranda. They get on, with their mother.
Tilly, Lydia and Buzz get on with their frog-translocating equipment.
Gaius gets on last, with Saint Roley and Gastro, who is still in his reheatable plastic container,
And Princess Pacchu is still in a boot, under Arthur.
The bus starts up, and rolls out of the station.
Settled? asks Gaius.
No, says Saint Roley. This is not what I imagined.
In what way? asks Gaius.
I saw myself pointing out various truths to Princess Pacchu, says Saint Roley. By this means I intended to cheer her.
Waak-wak! comes a sound from the plastic container.
Cheer him up, says Gaius. I'll let him out for a moment.
He opens the container. Gastro hops out, and lands on the inside window ledge.
Saint Roley can't think of a single truth to point out to Gastro.
Gastro waits.
No. Nothing happens.
He hops forward to the next window. Now Gastro is beside Tilly and Lydia.
They ignore him, because they are looking at a list of birds that have come back from the brink of extinction. It's encouraging. If birds why not frogs?
He hops forward again. Now he's beside Buzz and Simon, and the two bottle of tadpoles, his siblings.
They don't look like him. Look at them, vacuously grinning.
He hops forward again, to the window of the child and her sister.
They are whispering about Arthur and Sweezus, the tops of whose heads they can see.
I don't think it's even a subject, whispers her sister.
It should be, whispers the child.
You could ask them, whispers her sister.
I'm too shy, whispers the child.
Look, the frog's got out, hisses her sister. It's on the window.
The child acts swiftly. She captures the frog.
Now you can talk to them, says the child to her sister.
Okay, says her sister. She taps Sweezus on the shoulder.
Excuse me!
Yeah what? says Sweezus turning round.
Here's your frog, says the sister. We found it on our window.
Cool, says Sweezus. Thanks heaps. How did you catch it?
My little sister caught it, says her sister.
Arthur turns round.
At last! The Poet!
The little sister anticipates what he might say.
Perhaps: I shall make a poem about the escape of the tree frog and its journey up the bus from window to window, and as the capturer, you shall be in it.
But Arthur doesn't. He was just wondering if the kids behind him had any snacks.
They don't, so he turns away again. Looks down at the stuff on on the floor.
Three boots. Where's the one with the guinea pig? Maybe he's kicked it.
He turns again.
The child has her head down. Something scrapes under his seat.
Seen my guinea pig? says Arthur.
Is it this one? asks the capturer child.
Monday, May 21, 2018
The Scientist Poet
What was that wooshing sound? asks Princess Pacchu.
Her head is just visible, over the rim of the boot.
It was the plastic bag of tadpoles, bursting, says Saint Roley.
Should we do something? asks Princess Pacchu?
A small crowd has gathered around the pool of tadpoles.
Watching them die.
Call a cleaner, says someone. This is dangerous. Someone might slip and get injured.
What about the poor tadpoles? says another.
I'll save them! says a child, kneeling.
No! says Saint Roley. Stop that. I am responsible for these tadpoles. Does anyone have a jar?
I have a bottle of Marzano, says the child's mother. There's still some in it.
Give it here, says the child's older sister. She runs off to a drinking fountain. Tips out the fizzy drink and refills the bottle with tap water. She returns with the bottle.
Saint Roley has despaired of surreptitiously eating a tadpole. Not with this crowd, and Princess Pacchu watching.
He flutters down to the wet floor of the station. With his beak, he gently nudges a tadpole which freezes in terror.
Don't EAT it! cries the child.
At this moment Simon returns with the tickets, a takeaway coffee, and Gastro.
Gastro has no idea he was once a tadpole.
What's happened here? asks Simon.
Tadpoles everywhere, says the child's mother. This bird claims to be responsible.
I am ultimately responsible, says Simon. I'm an eco-biologist, here on a joint mission. This is most unfortunate. Does anyone have a large container?
We have, says the child's older sister. She holds out the two litre Marzano bottle, full of water.
May I? asks Simon.
Go ahead, says the mother. Anything for science. Isn't that right, girls?
Simon picks up the first tadpole.
It is larger than ever, showing signs of incipient legs.
He inserts the tadpole into the neck of the bottle.
It swims happily in circles.
He continues inserting more tadpoles.
Eighteen, nineteen, twenty.
That's it I fear, says Simon. The rest are for the cleaner. Unless anyone...?
I'll have a few, says Princess Pacchu.
No you won't, says Simon. You only eat grass, hay and pellets.
Do I? says Princess Pacchu .
Speak up Saint Roley! Dead or dying tadpoles going begging.
But he can't do it, in front of the crowd.
This other bag will burst soon, says Simon. Anyone.....?
I'm surprised that, as a scientist, you're so ill-prepared, says the mother.
Normally, says Simon, these plastic bags would have been adequate. But you see the problem.
She does see the problem. The tadpoles are visibly swelling.
Is that frog their mummy? the child asks.
No, says Simon. This is Gastro, their brother.
Gastro's eyes bulge! That his siblings should be treated like this!
Gastro, laughs the child's mother.
Named by our team member, the poet, says Simon. Arthur Rimbaud. Here he comes now.
Arthur appears with a takeaway skinny latte,and a rope tied round his waist to hold up his red waterproof trousers.
The child and her big sister are suddenly inspired to do science.
Her head is just visible, over the rim of the boot.
It was the plastic bag of tadpoles, bursting, says Saint Roley.
Should we do something? asks Princess Pacchu?
A small crowd has gathered around the pool of tadpoles.
Watching them die.
Call a cleaner, says someone. This is dangerous. Someone might slip and get injured.
What about the poor tadpoles? says another.
I'll save them! says a child, kneeling.
No! says Saint Roley. Stop that. I am responsible for these tadpoles. Does anyone have a jar?
I have a bottle of Marzano, says the child's mother. There's still some in it.
Give it here, says the child's older sister. She runs off to a drinking fountain. Tips out the fizzy drink and refills the bottle with tap water. She returns with the bottle.
Saint Roley has despaired of surreptitiously eating a tadpole. Not with this crowd, and Princess Pacchu watching.
He flutters down to the wet floor of the station. With his beak, he gently nudges a tadpole which freezes in terror.
Don't EAT it! cries the child.
At this moment Simon returns with the tickets, a takeaway coffee, and Gastro.
Gastro has no idea he was once a tadpole.
What's happened here? asks Simon.
Tadpoles everywhere, says the child's mother. This bird claims to be responsible.
I am ultimately responsible, says Simon. I'm an eco-biologist, here on a joint mission. This is most unfortunate. Does anyone have a large container?
We have, says the child's older sister. She holds out the two litre Marzano bottle, full of water.
May I? asks Simon.
Go ahead, says the mother. Anything for science. Isn't that right, girls?
Simon picks up the first tadpole.
It is larger than ever, showing signs of incipient legs.
He inserts the tadpole into the neck of the bottle.
It swims happily in circles.
He continues inserting more tadpoles.
Eighteen, nineteen, twenty.
That's it I fear, says Simon. The rest are for the cleaner. Unless anyone...?
I'll have a few, says Princess Pacchu.
No you won't, says Simon. You only eat grass, hay and pellets.
Do I? says Princess Pacchu .
Speak up Saint Roley! Dead or dying tadpoles going begging.
But he can't do it, in front of the crowd.
This other bag will burst soon, says Simon. Anyone.....?
I'm surprised that, as a scientist, you're so ill-prepared, says the mother.
Normally, says Simon, these plastic bags would have been adequate. But you see the problem.
She does see the problem. The tadpoles are visibly swelling.
Is that frog their mummy? the child asks.
No, says Simon. This is Gastro, their brother.
Gastro's eyes bulge! That his siblings should be treated like this!
Gastro, laughs the child's mother.
Named by our team member, the poet, says Simon. Arthur Rimbaud. Here he comes now.
Arthur appears with a takeaway skinny latte,and a rope tied round his waist to hold up his red waterproof trousers.
The child and her big sister are suddenly inspired to do science.
Sunday, May 20, 2018
The Temptation Of Saint Roley
Arthur, can you take the guinea pig? asks Tilly.
Uh? says Arthur.
Your guinea pig, says Tilly.
Right, says Arthur. Can't she walk by herself?
She could have walked with Saint Roley, says Lydia, But he's flying to the bus stop.
I've got all this equipment, says Arthur.
He is not used to carrying equipment.
It seems not in the spirit of poetic derangement.
On the other hand, a guinea pig does seem more in the spirit. And she is half his.
Okay, says Arthur. Get in, guinea pig.
Princess, says Princess Pacchu.
She climbs into a boot.
They set off for the bus station.
Saint Roley is already there.
He sits on a seat watching the buses.
People get on and off.
Lucky them. They have all had their breakfast (he supposes). They all have a habitat that is not being unscrupulously developed (he also supposes), and if threatened, they can get on a bus and go somewhere.
Princess Pacchu will enjoy the bus trip, thinks Saint Roley. I shall sit beside her, and point out certain things. Then she will know she is lucky.
Simon, (with Gastro), Tilly (with two bags of tadpoles), Buzz (with the pool salt), Lydia (with spades), Gaius, (with a red fish-topped pencil), Sweezus (with ropes, ice picks and helmets), Arthur (with boots, and a guinea pig), arrive at the station.
Tilly dumps the tadpoles next to Saint Roley.
Look after these, says Tilly. We're off to grab a quick coffee.
Arthur dumps two pairs of boots. Sweezus dumps the rest of the equipment.
The humans go off to grab coffee, and see to the tickets.
Saint Roley eyes the two bags of tadpoles.
Surely, this morning, there was only one bag of tadpoles?
The tadpoles swim carefully, to avoid bumping into one another, because they are rapidly growing.
One or two stop at the plastic boundary, and look out.
Saint Roley regards the tadpoles, who resemble, in his mind, seductive molluscs.
He is tempted to stab a hole in one plastic bag. The water would run out slowly. The tadpoles would compress into a delicious slimy breakfast. And he would eat that breakfast. And there would still be one bag of tadpoles.....
But how to explain it.
He ponders the question....
Perhaps he won't need to.
The bag splits, and tadpoles spill onto the floor of the station.
Uh? says Arthur.
Your guinea pig, says Tilly.
Right, says Arthur. Can't she walk by herself?
She could have walked with Saint Roley, says Lydia, But he's flying to the bus stop.
I've got all this equipment, says Arthur.
He is not used to carrying equipment.
It seems not in the spirit of poetic derangement.
On the other hand, a guinea pig does seem more in the spirit. And she is half his.
Okay, says Arthur. Get in, guinea pig.
Princess, says Princess Pacchu.
She climbs into a boot.
They set off for the bus station.
Saint Roley is already there.
He sits on a seat watching the buses.
People get on and off.
Lucky them. They have all had their breakfast (he supposes). They all have a habitat that is not being unscrupulously developed (he also supposes), and if threatened, they can get on a bus and go somewhere.
Princess Pacchu will enjoy the bus trip, thinks Saint Roley. I shall sit beside her, and point out certain things. Then she will know she is lucky.
Simon, (with Gastro), Tilly (with two bags of tadpoles), Buzz (with the pool salt), Lydia (with spades), Gaius, (with a red fish-topped pencil), Sweezus (with ropes, ice picks and helmets), Arthur (with boots, and a guinea pig), arrive at the station.
Tilly dumps the tadpoles next to Saint Roley.
Look after these, says Tilly. We're off to grab a quick coffee.
Arthur dumps two pairs of boots. Sweezus dumps the rest of the equipment.
The humans go off to grab coffee, and see to the tickets.
Saint Roley eyes the two bags of tadpoles.
Surely, this morning, there was only one bag of tadpoles?
The tadpoles swim carefully, to avoid bumping into one another, because they are rapidly growing.
One or two stop at the plastic boundary, and look out.
Saint Roley regards the tadpoles, who resemble, in his mind, seductive molluscs.
He is tempted to stab a hole in one plastic bag. The water would run out slowly. The tadpoles would compress into a delicious slimy breakfast. And he would eat that breakfast. And there would still be one bag of tadpoles.....
But how to explain it.
He ponders the question....
Perhaps he won't need to.
The bag splits, and tadpoles spill onto the floor of the station.
Saturday, May 19, 2018
Illuminating Gastro
Wraaack-ack-ack, says Simon.
The frog listens.
Wak-ack.
Good try, whispers Simon.
The frog bonds with Simon.
That was illuminating, says Gaius. Wasn't it boys?
Yeah, says Sweezus.
Right, let's go, says Simon.
Just gotta make a phone call, says Sweezus.
Do it on the way, says Gaius.
Okay, says Sweezus. He and Arthur pick up the equipment they've borrowed from the store room of Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Ice picks and ropes. Boots they haven't tried on yet.
Gaius locks the door.
They walk round the corner to the Metropolitan.
Hi everyone! says Lydia. Isn't it cool about Chimborazo! We can all go together.
Good pants, says Buzz.
Great pants, says Tilly. You guys won't get lost in the snow.
I shall not be climbing as far as the snowline, says Gaius. But I thought they would help keep the wind out.
Team, says Simon, I want you to see something. It was one of the tadpoles that received too much pool salt. Don't all crowd in at once.
He opens the reheatable plastic container. The giant baby tree frog leaps onto his sleeve.
You are KIDDING! says Lydia.
Wow! says Tilly.
Buzz takes a photo.
It's so big, says Lydia. Is it a male or a female?
No pouch, says Simon. A male.
They're usually smaller, aren't they, says Tilly. This one's enormous!
She bends down to examine the plump green baby tree frog on Simon's sleeve.
Back smooth, underside cream and grainy-looking, small head, large brown eyes and a wide mouth.
Cute as, says Tilly. Has it got a name?
Gastrotheca riobambae, says Gaius.
I know THAT, says Tilly. I mean a nickname.
Gastro, says Arthur.
Ah, a fine contribution! says Gaius. Arthur always comes up with something original.
Sweezus looks sideways at Arthur.
Gastro? Arthur shrugs.
Let's hope it isn't prophetic.
Everyone ready? The bus leaves from the station in fifteen minutes, says Simon.
He drops Gastro back in the box.
Pool salt, says Buzz. Check.
Tadpoles, says Tilly. Check.
Back packs and spades, says Lydia. Check.
Let me see those tadpoles, says Gaius.
He peers into the sealed plastic bag of water bulging with tadpoles.
Are you quite sure it's big enough?
Crikey! It isn't! says Tilly.
The frog listens.
Wak-ack.
Good try, whispers Simon.
The frog bonds with Simon.
That was illuminating, says Gaius. Wasn't it boys?
Yeah, says Sweezus.
Right, let's go, says Simon.
Just gotta make a phone call, says Sweezus.
Do it on the way, says Gaius.
Okay, says Sweezus. He and Arthur pick up the equipment they've borrowed from the store room of Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Ice picks and ropes. Boots they haven't tried on yet.
Gaius locks the door.
They walk round the corner to the Metropolitan.
Hi everyone! says Lydia. Isn't it cool about Chimborazo! We can all go together.
Good pants, says Buzz.
Great pants, says Tilly. You guys won't get lost in the snow.
I shall not be climbing as far as the snowline, says Gaius. But I thought they would help keep the wind out.
Team, says Simon, I want you to see something. It was one of the tadpoles that received too much pool salt. Don't all crowd in at once.
He opens the reheatable plastic container. The giant baby tree frog leaps onto his sleeve.
You are KIDDING! says Lydia.
Wow! says Tilly.
Buzz takes a photo.
It's so big, says Lydia. Is it a male or a female?
No pouch, says Simon. A male.
They're usually smaller, aren't they, says Tilly. This one's enormous!
She bends down to examine the plump green baby tree frog on Simon's sleeve.
Back smooth, underside cream and grainy-looking, small head, large brown eyes and a wide mouth.
Cute as, says Tilly. Has it got a name?
Gastrotheca riobambae, says Gaius.
I know THAT, says Tilly. I mean a nickname.
Gastro, says Arthur.
Ah, a fine contribution! says Gaius. Arthur always comes up with something original.
Sweezus looks sideways at Arthur.
Gastro? Arthur shrugs.
Let's hope it isn't prophetic.
Everyone ready? The bus leaves from the station in fifteen minutes, says Simon.
He drops Gastro back in the box.
Pool salt, says Buzz. Check.
Tadpoles, says Tilly. Check.
Back packs and spades, says Lydia. Check.
Let me see those tadpoles, says Gaius.
He peers into the sealed plastic bag of water bulging with tadpoles.
Are you quite sure it's big enough?
Crikey! It isn't! says Tilly.
Friday, May 18, 2018
Six Red Legs Surround Him
Next, Gaius calls Simon.
Simon answers. Hello?
I'm about to join you, says Gaius. Where's your hotel?
Stay where you are, says Simon. I'll come and meet you.
Gaius goes back inside the large house.
Sweezus and Arthur are trying on red waterproof trousers in the hallway.
Very sensible trousers, says Gaius. Are there others?
Heaps, says Sweezus. In there.
Keep an eye on this frog for me, says Gaius.
He goes into the store room. Comes out in red waterproof trousers.
The frog stares through the side of the reheatable plastic container, which is transparent.
Six red legs surround him.
They all look the same.
He looks at his own legs.
They look different.
A sorrow descends upon him. He collapses.
Your frog looks dejected, says Arthur.
He'll buck up when he sees his siblings, says Gaius. Although..... he may not.
True, says Arthur. Not everyone bucks up when they see their siblings.
I reckon I would, says Sweezus. If I had any.
The point is, says Gaius. This frog was only a tadpole for a matter of hours. The pool salt killed three of his siblings, but he thrived. He must have remarkable qualities.
Yeah, says Sweezus. (He would buck up if he had remarkable qualities, and his siblings did not).
Simon walks in without knocking.
Everything's sorted, says Simon. Our team will release the new tadpoles in an agreed location on the lower slopes of Chimborazo. We'll go part way by bus. Then there's a bit of a walk on an ancient stone highway. Hey, nice trousers!
They're for the summit, says Sweezus. We're hiring a guide.
Great, says Simon. What's that on the floor there? Your lunch?
No, says Gaius. An ex-tadpole, now a giant Riobamban marsupial tree frog. I believe its metamorphosis was accelerated by an over-concentration of pool salt, which you subsequently corrected.
I don't believe it! says Simon.
I find your reaction unscientific, says Gaius.
But natural, says Simon. Let me see.
He opens the reheatable plastic container.
The frog shuts his eyes and cowers. Nothing bad happens. He opens his eyes.
Then something bad happens.
He is lifted by Simon.
Not SO bad. Simon is used to scared frogs.
Simon answers. Hello?
I'm about to join you, says Gaius. Where's your hotel?
Stay where you are, says Simon. I'll come and meet you.
Gaius goes back inside the large house.
Sweezus and Arthur are trying on red waterproof trousers in the hallway.
Very sensible trousers, says Gaius. Are there others?
Heaps, says Sweezus. In there.
Keep an eye on this frog for me, says Gaius.
He goes into the store room. Comes out in red waterproof trousers.
The frog stares through the side of the reheatable plastic container, which is transparent.
Six red legs surround him.
They all look the same.
He looks at his own legs.
They look different.
A sorrow descends upon him. He collapses.
Your frog looks dejected, says Arthur.
He'll buck up when he sees his siblings, says Gaius. Although..... he may not.
True, says Arthur. Not everyone bucks up when they see their siblings.
I reckon I would, says Sweezus. If I had any.
The point is, says Gaius. This frog was only a tadpole for a matter of hours. The pool salt killed three of his siblings, but he thrived. He must have remarkable qualities.
Yeah, says Sweezus. (He would buck up if he had remarkable qualities, and his siblings did not).
Simon walks in without knocking.
Everything's sorted, says Simon. Our team will release the new tadpoles in an agreed location on the lower slopes of Chimborazo. We'll go part way by bus. Then there's a bit of a walk on an ancient stone highway. Hey, nice trousers!
They're for the summit, says Sweezus. We're hiring a guide.
Great, says Simon. What's that on the floor there? Your lunch?
No, says Gaius. An ex-tadpole, now a giant Riobamban marsupial tree frog. I believe its metamorphosis was accelerated by an over-concentration of pool salt, which you subsequently corrected.
I don't believe it! says Simon.
I find your reaction unscientific, says Gaius.
But natural, says Simon. Let me see.
He opens the reheatable plastic container.
The frog shuts his eyes and cowers. Nothing bad happens. He opens his eyes.
Then something bad happens.
He is lifted by Simon.
Not SO bad. Simon is used to scared frogs.
Thursday, May 17, 2018
The Grandpa Marx Method
The taxi arrives.
Mariposa and Pescado climb into the back seat.
Pedro Vicente Maldonado gets in the front.
The taxi driver loads the luggage into the boot.
One large suitcase. Two trunkies.
Don't go yet, says Pedro. There's one more passenger.
Terence is standing behind the fountain.
You're so mean, dad, says Mariposa.
I was given advice, says Pedro. Advice from those who best know him. Trust me, Mariposa.
Terence looks round the side of the fountain.
The taximeter ticks over.
Gaius comes out of the large house with the reheatable plastic food container, in which is the frog.
He spots Terence behind the fountain, and the taxi, with its open door, waiting.
Terence? says Gaius. Not going to Hawaii?
They won't let me, says Terence.
What's this about? asks Gaius. Of course they'll let you.
I have to be locked in a trunkie with undies and notebooks, says Terence.
Notebooks? says Gaius. Did she pack pencils?
Don't know, says Terence. I only know about undies.
I wonder if she has any spare ones, says Gaius. I mean pencils. Perhaps you could ask.
You ask, says Terence.
Gaius walks up to the taxi and speaks to Pedro through the window.
Terence wants me to ask if Mariposa has packed pencils, says Gaius.
This is promising, says Pedro. Is he coming around?
Not yet, says Gaius. It's I who wanted to ask about the pencils. I asked Terence to ask, thinking it would be a way to break the stalemate. But he asked me to ask.
Is this your Grandpa Marx method? asks Pedro. It seems rather long winded.
Grandpa Marx? Oh ha ha, no. Marx would have .... I'm not quite sure what Marx would do. Perhaps I'll ask Terence. He should know.
Hurry up then, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Time is ticking and we must leave for the airport.
Gaius walks back to the fountain.
Mariposa asks the taxi driver to open the boot so she can check whether there are pencils in her trunkie.
Terence is watching.
He's opening the boot, says Terence. They're kidnapping me.
Not at all. They're probably checking for pencils, says Gaius. Now, Terence, this is one of those situations that requires a third party.
Yes, says Terence. A third party with red drinks somewhere comfy.
Such as Grandpa Marx, says Gaius.
Terence imagines Grandpa Marx with red drinks somewhere comfy.
( and in fact, he is close to the mark, because Marx is in Melbourne at a Marxist conference)
What would Grandpa Marx say to you if he wanted you to accept one small bad thing for a greater good thing? asks Gaius.
He wouldn't say anything, says Terence. He'd buy me a hat.
He remembers the hat with the ear flaps which Grandpa Marx bought him.
Come with me, says Gaius.
They walk to the taxi.
Terence will do it for a hat, says Gaius.
Do what exactly? asks Pedro.
Come with you, says Gaius, and get in the trunkie when strictly required, but for now he would like to sit in the taxi.
Yes, says Terence. Why had he not thought to say that?
Very good, says Pedro. Get in Terence.
Terence gets in.
Ready to go, now? asks the taxi driver.
Yes, says Pedro.
Wait, says Mariposa. Here's a pencil!
She hands Gaius a red fish topped pencil, though the window.
Thank you! says Gaius. I shall guard it with my life.
I'd rather you guard the giant baby frog with your life, says Mariposa.
Naturally, says Gaius.
The giant baby frog is pleased to hear this reply to Mariposa's instruction.
A positive note in this Life of Uncertainty.
And it's not just the frog who thinks so.
Mariposa and Pescado climb into the back seat.
Pedro Vicente Maldonado gets in the front.
The taxi driver loads the luggage into the boot.
One large suitcase. Two trunkies.
Don't go yet, says Pedro. There's one more passenger.
Terence is standing behind the fountain.
You're so mean, dad, says Mariposa.
I was given advice, says Pedro. Advice from those who best know him. Trust me, Mariposa.
Terence looks round the side of the fountain.
The taximeter ticks over.
Gaius comes out of the large house with the reheatable plastic food container, in which is the frog.
He spots Terence behind the fountain, and the taxi, with its open door, waiting.
Terence? says Gaius. Not going to Hawaii?
They won't let me, says Terence.
What's this about? asks Gaius. Of course they'll let you.
I have to be locked in a trunkie with undies and notebooks, says Terence.
Notebooks? says Gaius. Did she pack pencils?
Don't know, says Terence. I only know about undies.
I wonder if she has any spare ones, says Gaius. I mean pencils. Perhaps you could ask.
You ask, says Terence.
Gaius walks up to the taxi and speaks to Pedro through the window.
Terence wants me to ask if Mariposa has packed pencils, says Gaius.
This is promising, says Pedro. Is he coming around?
Not yet, says Gaius. It's I who wanted to ask about the pencils. I asked Terence to ask, thinking it would be a way to break the stalemate. But he asked me to ask.
Is this your Grandpa Marx method? asks Pedro. It seems rather long winded.
Grandpa Marx? Oh ha ha, no. Marx would have .... I'm not quite sure what Marx would do. Perhaps I'll ask Terence. He should know.
Hurry up then, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Time is ticking and we must leave for the airport.
Gaius walks back to the fountain.
Mariposa asks the taxi driver to open the boot so she can check whether there are pencils in her trunkie.
Terence is watching.
He's opening the boot, says Terence. They're kidnapping me.
Not at all. They're probably checking for pencils, says Gaius. Now, Terence, this is one of those situations that requires a third party.
Yes, says Terence. A third party with red drinks somewhere comfy.
Such as Grandpa Marx, says Gaius.
Terence imagines Grandpa Marx with red drinks somewhere comfy.
( and in fact, he is close to the mark, because Marx is in Melbourne at a Marxist conference)
What would Grandpa Marx say to you if he wanted you to accept one small bad thing for a greater good thing? asks Gaius.
He wouldn't say anything, says Terence. He'd buy me a hat.
He remembers the hat with the ear flaps which Grandpa Marx bought him.
Come with me, says Gaius.
They walk to the taxi.
Terence will do it for a hat, says Gaius.
Do what exactly? asks Pedro.
Come with you, says Gaius, and get in the trunkie when strictly required, but for now he would like to sit in the taxi.
Yes, says Terence. Why had he not thought to say that?
Very good, says Pedro. Get in Terence.
Terence gets in.
Ready to go, now? asks the taxi driver.
Yes, says Pedro.
Wait, says Mariposa. Here's a pencil!
She hands Gaius a red fish topped pencil, though the window.
Thank you! says Gaius. I shall guard it with my life.
I'd rather you guard the giant baby frog with your life, says Mariposa.
Naturally, says Gaius.
The giant baby frog is pleased to hear this reply to Mariposa's instruction.
A positive note in this Life of Uncertainty.
And it's not just the frog who thinks so.
Wednesday, May 16, 2018
For The Magnificence
Morning, outside the large house.
Pedro Vicente Maldonado waits for a taxi, by the fountain.
Gaius comes out.
Good morning! Nice early start? says Gaius.
Yes, says Pedro. Have you seen the children?
Not this morning, says Gaius. Perhaps they're farewelling the frogs.
They should be out here, says Pedro. What's that you've got there, moving about in your pocket?
A prodigy! says Gaius. Remember the tadpoles that died?
No, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Some died, did they? So much for the pool salt.
Ah yes, but this one survived! says Gaius.
He whips the giant baby marsupial frog from his shorts pocket. Holds it up before the startled eyes of Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
The giant baby frog stares back.
O why is Life so confusing?
I was going to ask if you had a suitable container, says Gaius. But I see you are waiting outside, probably for a taxi.
I am, says Pedro, but go to the kitchen. There's bound to be something.
Gaius goes back inside.
Sweezus comes out.
Hi Pedro, says Sweezus. Can I ask you a question?
Certainly, says Pedro.
Climbing Chimborazo, says Sweezus. Why do they start off at night?
In order to reach the summit at sunrise, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. For the magnificence.
Awesome, says Sweezus. Any idea what we should take?
Equipment? says Pedro. You may borrow anything of mine that you find in the store room. I've done a great deal of climbing. May I suggest you hire a guide though?
Guide? How much? asks Sweezus.
About $350, says Pedro. For that price you get a meal, accommodation and a taxi three quarters of the way up. I'll give you a few names if you like.
Cool, says Sweezus. Is there any of the guys who'd take Sea Salt in lieu?
Fools you mean? says Pedro. I should think not. But say you know me. You'll get a discount.
Where's the store room? asks Sweezus.
Off the kitchen, says Pedro.
Sweezus goes back inside.
Mariposa comes out, wheeling her trunkie, followed by Pescado.
Terence won't get inside, says Mariposa.
I'm not that sort of equipment, says Terence.
What? says Pedro.
He agreed, says Mariposa.
Only to be CALLED equipment, says Terence. I'm not travelling in a case with girl's undies.
He's being stupid, says Mariposa. Cherry's much smarter.
Yes, says Pescado. She's in my trunkie, doing a geometry puzzle in her head.
She'll get it wrong, says Terence. Anyway what sort of equipment is she?
No sort, says Pescado. It's just a more flattering description than toy.
The taxi arrives.
Get in, says Pedro. I'll just pop back to give Gaius the key.
He goes inside, to the kitchen.
Gaius is poking holes in the top of a plastic reheatable food container with a skewer.
The giant baby frog is hopping madly inside, avoiding the skewer.
Sweezus comes out of the store room with red waterproofs, an ice pick, crampons. and coiled ropes.
Key, says Pedro. Please lock up when you leave. By the way, what's the best way to handle Terence?
Two ways, says Sweezus. You can play Grandpa Marx or Saint Joseph.
Ha ha very good! laughs Gaius. Do you understand, Pedro? He means carrot and stick.
Carrot and stick? Perhaps it's not the same in Ecuadorian.
Philosophy or the adze, explains Gaius.
Pedro Vicente Maldonado waits for a taxi, by the fountain.
Gaius comes out.
Good morning! Nice early start? says Gaius.
Yes, says Pedro. Have you seen the children?
Not this morning, says Gaius. Perhaps they're farewelling the frogs.
They should be out here, says Pedro. What's that you've got there, moving about in your pocket?
A prodigy! says Gaius. Remember the tadpoles that died?
No, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Some died, did they? So much for the pool salt.
Ah yes, but this one survived! says Gaius.
He whips the giant baby marsupial frog from his shorts pocket. Holds it up before the startled eyes of Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
The giant baby frog stares back.
O why is Life so confusing?
I was going to ask if you had a suitable container, says Gaius. But I see you are waiting outside, probably for a taxi.
I am, says Pedro, but go to the kitchen. There's bound to be something.
Gaius goes back inside.
Sweezus comes out.
Hi Pedro, says Sweezus. Can I ask you a question?
Certainly, says Pedro.
Climbing Chimborazo, says Sweezus. Why do they start off at night?
In order to reach the summit at sunrise, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. For the magnificence.
Awesome, says Sweezus. Any idea what we should take?
Equipment? says Pedro. You may borrow anything of mine that you find in the store room. I've done a great deal of climbing. May I suggest you hire a guide though?
Guide? How much? asks Sweezus.
About $350, says Pedro. For that price you get a meal, accommodation and a taxi three quarters of the way up. I'll give you a few names if you like.
Cool, says Sweezus. Is there any of the guys who'd take Sea Salt in lieu?
Fools you mean? says Pedro. I should think not. But say you know me. You'll get a discount.
Where's the store room? asks Sweezus.
Off the kitchen, says Pedro.
Sweezus goes back inside.
Mariposa comes out, wheeling her trunkie, followed by Pescado.
Terence won't get inside, says Mariposa.
I'm not that sort of equipment, says Terence.
What? says Pedro.
He agreed, says Mariposa.
Only to be CALLED equipment, says Terence. I'm not travelling in a case with girl's undies.
He's being stupid, says Mariposa. Cherry's much smarter.
Yes, says Pescado. She's in my trunkie, doing a geometry puzzle in her head.
She'll get it wrong, says Terence. Anyway what sort of equipment is she?
No sort, says Pescado. It's just a more flattering description than toy.
The taxi arrives.
Get in, says Pedro. I'll just pop back to give Gaius the key.
He goes inside, to the kitchen.
Gaius is poking holes in the top of a plastic reheatable food container with a skewer.
The giant baby frog is hopping madly inside, avoiding the skewer.
Sweezus comes out of the store room with red waterproofs, an ice pick, crampons. and coiled ropes.
Key, says Pedro. Please lock up when you leave. By the way, what's the best way to handle Terence?
Two ways, says Sweezus. You can play Grandpa Marx or Saint Joseph.
Ha ha very good! laughs Gaius. Do you understand, Pedro? He means carrot and stick.
Carrot and stick? Perhaps it's not the same in Ecuadorian.
Philosophy or the adze, explains Gaius.
Tuesday, May 15, 2018
All Brothers
At the Hotel Metropolitan, Riobamba.
Simon has pre-booked two rooms.
I'll share with Buzz, you two can bunk in together, says Simon.
Sure, says Lydia. What about these guys?
Ahem, coughs Saint Roley. I'll go with Simon.
And I'll go with you and Tilly, says Princess Pacchu.
No pets in the rooms, says the guy at reception.
These are not pets, says Tilly.
A bird and a guinea pig? says reception. What are they? Dinner?
KA-wk! squawks Princess Pacchu.
Not at all says Simon. We are a scientific expedition from Newcastle, here to assist with the translocation of Riobamban tree frogs. This bird is an invaluable team member.
And the guinea pig?
The guinea pig is Princess Pacchu.
Reception has heard of Princess Pacchu. A Puruhá princess who married an Incan king. What was he called? Atahualpa or something? Okay. She can sleep in the room with the women. No more questions.
Simon and Buzz go to their room with Saint Roley.
We should talk, says Simon. We haven't had much chance to get to know you.
What would you like to know? asks Saint Roley.
How did you hook up with Gaius? asks Buzz.
I was down and out in Saint Malo, says Saint Roley. Terence wanted me for a parrot. At first I complied. But it's not easy being Terence's parrot.
I imagine not, says Simon.
So I resigned as his parrot, and made myself useful in other ways, to Gaius. I have an empathy with creatures who have lost family members, for example. That is, every creature. For I believe we're all brothers.
This is true for the most part, although he was not down and out.
And you fly, of course, says Simon. That must be useful.
Yes, says Saint Roley. The only problem I have at present is a complete dearth of molluscs.
I saw you picking at the encebollado, says Buzz.
I tried it, says Saint Roley. But soggy fish does not sit well in my stomach. In fact...is there a bathroom?
Saint Roley repairs to the bathroom.
In Lydia and Tilly's room, Princess Pacchu is speaking.
I love him, says Princess Pacchu.
But he's an oystercatcher, says Tilly.
Haven't you ever fallen for someone...other? asks Princess Pacchu.
Everyone you fall for is other, says Lydia. But usually the same species. What was that about you getting married to an Incan?
Atahualpa, says Princess Pacchu. It was a marriage of convenience. And I'm a guinea pig, remember.
Euw, says Tilly.
What was THAT for? asks Princess Pacchu.
Oh, it must've been hard for you, says Tilly.
But not for him, says Princess Pacchu.
No, of course, not for him, says Lydia.
I thought you might have meant that, says Princess Pacchu,
No way, say Tilly. Kings deserve all they get.
Exactly, says Princess Pacchu. That's why I love Saint Roley, he's not one. And he has empathy. But don't tell him yet.
It's been nice having such an intimate talk.
Afterwards, the three females sleep soundly
Simon has pre-booked two rooms.
I'll share with Buzz, you two can bunk in together, says Simon.
Sure, says Lydia. What about these guys?
Ahem, coughs Saint Roley. I'll go with Simon.
And I'll go with you and Tilly, says Princess Pacchu.
No pets in the rooms, says the guy at reception.
These are not pets, says Tilly.
A bird and a guinea pig? says reception. What are they? Dinner?
KA-wk! squawks Princess Pacchu.
Not at all says Simon. We are a scientific expedition from Newcastle, here to assist with the translocation of Riobamban tree frogs. This bird is an invaluable team member.
And the guinea pig?
The guinea pig is Princess Pacchu.
Reception has heard of Princess Pacchu. A Puruhá princess who married an Incan king. What was he called? Atahualpa or something? Okay. She can sleep in the room with the women. No more questions.
Simon and Buzz go to their room with Saint Roley.
We should talk, says Simon. We haven't had much chance to get to know you.
What would you like to know? asks Saint Roley.
How did you hook up with Gaius? asks Buzz.
I was down and out in Saint Malo, says Saint Roley. Terence wanted me for a parrot. At first I complied. But it's not easy being Terence's parrot.
I imagine not, says Simon.
So I resigned as his parrot, and made myself useful in other ways, to Gaius. I have an empathy with creatures who have lost family members, for example. That is, every creature. For I believe we're all brothers.
This is true for the most part, although he was not down and out.
And you fly, of course, says Simon. That must be useful.
Yes, says Saint Roley. The only problem I have at present is a complete dearth of molluscs.
I saw you picking at the encebollado, says Buzz.
I tried it, says Saint Roley. But soggy fish does not sit well in my stomach. In fact...is there a bathroom?
Saint Roley repairs to the bathroom.
In Lydia and Tilly's room, Princess Pacchu is speaking.
I love him, says Princess Pacchu.
But he's an oystercatcher, says Tilly.
Haven't you ever fallen for someone...other? asks Princess Pacchu.
Everyone you fall for is other, says Lydia. But usually the same species. What was that about you getting married to an Incan?
Atahualpa, says Princess Pacchu. It was a marriage of convenience. And I'm a guinea pig, remember.
Euw, says Tilly.
What was THAT for? asks Princess Pacchu.
Oh, it must've been hard for you, says Tilly.
But not for him, says Princess Pacchu.
No, of course, not for him, says Lydia.
I thought you might have meant that, says Princess Pacchu,
No way, say Tilly. Kings deserve all they get.
Exactly, says Princess Pacchu. That's why I love Saint Roley, he's not one. And he has empathy. But don't tell him yet.
It's been nice having such an intimate talk.
Afterwards, the three females sleep soundly
Monday, May 14, 2018
Contempt For The Humans
Frogs, whooping.
And that was because of what had just happened.
Let us go back a few minutes.
Piffy and Pi-face had been grieving:
Pi-face: Eheu! Our baby tadpoles have been taken by Simon. Except for the dead ones.
Piffy: He could have left one for us.
Pi-face: He could have left any number, but he didn't.
Piffy: Just one, I would have been happy.
(she weeps froggily)
Gaius comes in.
Gaius: What is this? Do I hear weeping?
Piffy: Snort-snoo!
Pi-face: What are YOU here for? You're one of the snatchers.
Gaius: A remorseful snatcher. I came to see how you were faring. Mariposa and Pescado are leaving in the morning for Hawaii. Did you know this?
Pi-face: Of course we knew.
Gaius: Since we have already taken your tadpoles....
Piffy: Snuffle-sniff.
Gaius: ...we could take you too. I'm asking you, prior to asking the children.
Pi-face: That's quite nice of him, isn't it, Piffy?
Piffy: I'm not going anywhere. This is where my baby tadpoles are at rest.
Gaius: A fine sentiment. It was an unfortunate incident. An excess of pool salt was to blame. May I see your deceased loved ones?
Pi-face: All four are lying on the bottom.
Gaius (looking): I see only three. And what is this creature?
Piffy (also looking): Can it be?
Gaius: It certainly is. A giant baby marsupial tree frog! One not quite defunct tadpole has survived. Perhaps the pool salt speeded up its development.
Piffy and Pi-face (joyously): Whoop whoop!
(This is where we were up to).
Mariposa comes in.
Mariposa: Gaius! What's happening?
Gaius: One of the over-salted tadpoles has metamorphosed into a giant baby marsupial tree frog.
Mariposa: Let's see!
Gaius: I wonder if you would allow me to take charge of this baby, as you're going away?
Mariposa: Oooh! How cu-u-u-te! Yes, I suppose so. We couldn't look after it. And it might help with your project. It'll mate with the tree frogs you find in the country and produce stronger tree frogs.
Gaius: You are a natural scientist, Mariposa!
Mariposa: Thank you. Are Piffy and Pi-face okay?
Gaius: Yes. Did you not hear them whooping?
Are they okay?
What do you think?
No. They are speechless with contempt for these humans.
And that was because of what had just happened.
Let us go back a few minutes.
Piffy and Pi-face had been grieving:
Pi-face: Eheu! Our baby tadpoles have been taken by Simon. Except for the dead ones.
Piffy: He could have left one for us.
Pi-face: He could have left any number, but he didn't.
Piffy: Just one, I would have been happy.
(she weeps froggily)
Gaius comes in.
Gaius: What is this? Do I hear weeping?
Piffy: Snort-snoo!
Pi-face: What are YOU here for? You're one of the snatchers.
Gaius: A remorseful snatcher. I came to see how you were faring. Mariposa and Pescado are leaving in the morning for Hawaii. Did you know this?
Pi-face: Of course we knew.
Gaius: Since we have already taken your tadpoles....
Piffy: Snuffle-sniff.
Gaius: ...we could take you too. I'm asking you, prior to asking the children.
Pi-face: That's quite nice of him, isn't it, Piffy?
Piffy: I'm not going anywhere. This is where my baby tadpoles are at rest.
Gaius: A fine sentiment. It was an unfortunate incident. An excess of pool salt was to blame. May I see your deceased loved ones?
Pi-face: All four are lying on the bottom.
Gaius (looking): I see only three. And what is this creature?
Piffy (also looking): Can it be?
Gaius: It certainly is. A giant baby marsupial tree frog! One not quite defunct tadpole has survived. Perhaps the pool salt speeded up its development.
Piffy and Pi-face (joyously): Whoop whoop!
(This is where we were up to).
Mariposa comes in.
Mariposa: Gaius! What's happening?
Gaius: One of the over-salted tadpoles has metamorphosed into a giant baby marsupial tree frog.
Mariposa: Let's see!
Gaius: I wonder if you would allow me to take charge of this baby, as you're going away?
Mariposa: Oooh! How cu-u-u-te! Yes, I suppose so. We couldn't look after it. And it might help with your project. It'll mate with the tree frogs you find in the country and produce stronger tree frogs.
Gaius: You are a natural scientist, Mariposa!
Mariposa: Thank you. Are Piffy and Pi-face okay?
Gaius: Yes. Did you not hear them whooping?
Are they okay?
What do you think?
No. They are speechless with contempt for these humans.
Sunday, May 13, 2018
What If They Die
Night time, in the many-roomed house of Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
Pedro is asleep, in his airy bedroom. He wears his favourite red velvet pyjamas.
He dreams he is doing a crossword puzzle. The word on the far right keeps changing.
Nothing fits in.
In a room down the passage, Arthur is removing the dirty bandage from his worst knee.
Yeow! says Arthur.
Sweezus is checking what they'll need to climb Chimborazo, by watching YouTube videos of other people doing it.
Ice pick, says Sweezus. Boots, torch. Look at this guy!
Arthur looks.
This guy's not happy. No one told him he ought to take food, and his water froze in the first half hour.
Remember that, says Sweezus. Take food.
And a torch, says Arthur.
Shit yeah, says Sweezus. Wonder why they all start off in the dark?
Arthur can't think of a reason.
Next door Gaius is ..... not where he should be.
He has gone down to the frog room.
Terence and Cherry have taken advantage of his absence to go and look for Pescado.
They knock on the doors of the bedrooms until Mariposa opens.
What? says Mariposa.
Where's Pescado? asks Terence.
In here, says Mariposa. We're packing our trunkies. Lucky you came.
Is it? asks Terence. That's why I came.
Pescado looks up from his trunkie. It's overflowing with tee shirts and shorts. And several geometry puzzles, on loose sheets of paper. And a book about dinosaurs.
Get in, says Pescado.
Who? asks Terence.
Cherry goes in mine, says Pescado. You're going in Mariposa's.
Cherry hops onto the dinosaur book. Plenty of room. It sinks down.
Terence looks at Mariposa's trunkie.
It's empty.
I'm not going in FIRST, says Terence.
You don't have to, says Mariposa. I'm just thinking. Help me decide what to take.
Lots of red drinks, says Terence.
Out of these, says Mariposa. She points at a jumble of journals and sketchbooks.
Ha ha, says Terence. What about shorts?
Yes of course! SHORTS! says Mariposa. And a swim suit. And a dress for going out to dinner, and a necklace. What do you think I am?
A girl, says Terence. And you need undies.
Like I don't know THAT, says Mariposa.
Is she cross about something?
She's just scared, says Pescado. Of dinosaurs and volcanoes.
Am not, says Mariposa. I'm just missing Piffy and Pi-face. What if they die?
They will die, says Pescado. Everything dies.
Does it? asks Cherry. Do I die?
No, says Pescado. You just run out of battery, and get a new one and eventually after a few more replacements you run down for the last time. But don't worry.
I don't worry, says Terence.
Not you, says Pescado.
I'm going down to check on them, says Mariposa.
She takes her torch, and makes her way down to the frog room.
Opens the door. Hears what she least expected.
Frogs whooping. In a good way.
Pedro is asleep, in his airy bedroom. He wears his favourite red velvet pyjamas.
He dreams he is doing a crossword puzzle. The word on the far right keeps changing.
Nothing fits in.
In a room down the passage, Arthur is removing the dirty bandage from his worst knee.
Yeow! says Arthur.
Sweezus is checking what they'll need to climb Chimborazo, by watching YouTube videos of other people doing it.
Ice pick, says Sweezus. Boots, torch. Look at this guy!
Arthur looks.
This guy's not happy. No one told him he ought to take food, and his water froze in the first half hour.
Remember that, says Sweezus. Take food.
And a torch, says Arthur.
Shit yeah, says Sweezus. Wonder why they all start off in the dark?
Arthur can't think of a reason.
Next door Gaius is ..... not where he should be.
He has gone down to the frog room.
Terence and Cherry have taken advantage of his absence to go and look for Pescado.
They knock on the doors of the bedrooms until Mariposa opens.
What? says Mariposa.
Where's Pescado? asks Terence.
In here, says Mariposa. We're packing our trunkies. Lucky you came.
Is it? asks Terence. That's why I came.
Pescado looks up from his trunkie. It's overflowing with tee shirts and shorts. And several geometry puzzles, on loose sheets of paper. And a book about dinosaurs.
Get in, says Pescado.
Who? asks Terence.
Cherry goes in mine, says Pescado. You're going in Mariposa's.
Cherry hops onto the dinosaur book. Plenty of room. It sinks down.
Terence looks at Mariposa's trunkie.
It's empty.
I'm not going in FIRST, says Terence.
You don't have to, says Mariposa. I'm just thinking. Help me decide what to take.
Lots of red drinks, says Terence.
Out of these, says Mariposa. She points at a jumble of journals and sketchbooks.
Ha ha, says Terence. What about shorts?
Yes of course! SHORTS! says Mariposa. And a swim suit. And a dress for going out to dinner, and a necklace. What do you think I am?
A girl, says Terence. And you need undies.
Like I don't know THAT, says Mariposa.
Is she cross about something?
She's just scared, says Pescado. Of dinosaurs and volcanoes.
Am not, says Mariposa. I'm just missing Piffy and Pi-face. What if they die?
They will die, says Pescado. Everything dies.
Does it? asks Cherry. Do I die?
No, says Pescado. You just run out of battery, and get a new one and eventually after a few more replacements you run down for the last time. But don't worry.
I don't worry, says Terence.
Not you, says Pescado.
I'm going down to check on them, says Mariposa.
She takes her torch, and makes her way down to the frog room.
Opens the door. Hears what she least expected.
Frogs whooping. In a good way.
Saturday, May 12, 2018
Dangerous Chasms
Where do I go? asks Terence.
Where would you like to go? asks Gaius.
Tell me again, says Terence.
I'll tell him, says Sweezus. You can't climb Chimborazo. There's heaps of snow and dangerous chasms.
(He imagines)
Or? says Terence.
Or, says Gaius, you might like to travel with the scientific expedition to find a new home for the tadpoles.
With us, says Saint Roley. Me and Princess Pacchu.
I hope I get some say in this, says Simon.
I would guarantee Terence's good behaviour, says Gaius.
NO! says Terence. What else is there?
Stay at home with me and do geometry practice, says Cherry.
Home? says Pablo Vicente Maldonado. If you mean here, that isn't an option. The house will be locked up. Have you forgotten we're off to Hawaii?
They could come with us, says Mariposa. Terence and Cherry. To Hawaii.
Ah, no, I don't think so, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. I have already booked the tickets.
Cherry doesn't need a ticket. She's a toy, says Pescado.
Cherry is offended.
An electronic parrot isn't a toy, says Cherry. But I could be a piece of equipment.
Yes! says Mariposa. Like a GPS or something.
What about me? says Terence. Can I be a piece of equipment?
He does not realise what this would entail.
Nor do the children.
Please dad!
Please! says Terence.
Who do you actually belong to? asks Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
No one, says Terence. Him.
Not really says Sweezus. Long story.
Any objections from anyone? asks Pedro.
Is he kidding?
Everyone is glad.
Well now, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado, if I remember correctly, you're all sleeping here tonight, because Arthur, having chosen to take a train ride, and falling from the roof of the train under mysterious circumstances, and having to be rescued and given a lift in a farm truck, thereby arriving here late for dinner, has failed to make a hotel booking for his party. But it's fine by me. We have many spare bedrooms. What about you, Simon?
We're fine, says Simon. We have a hotel. It's only Gaius's party. I guess we should head off there. Thanks for the wonderful dinner.
Take a few preserved figs with you, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. And don't forget the tadpoles. Mariposa, go into the kitchen and get them some ziplocks.
Off she goes, to find ziplocks.
Where would you like to go? asks Gaius.
Tell me again, says Terence.
I'll tell him, says Sweezus. You can't climb Chimborazo. There's heaps of snow and dangerous chasms.
(He imagines)
Or? says Terence.
Or, says Gaius, you might like to travel with the scientific expedition to find a new home for the tadpoles.
With us, says Saint Roley. Me and Princess Pacchu.
I hope I get some say in this, says Simon.
I would guarantee Terence's good behaviour, says Gaius.
NO! says Terence. What else is there?
Stay at home with me and do geometry practice, says Cherry.
Home? says Pablo Vicente Maldonado. If you mean here, that isn't an option. The house will be locked up. Have you forgotten we're off to Hawaii?
They could come with us, says Mariposa. Terence and Cherry. To Hawaii.
Ah, no, I don't think so, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. I have already booked the tickets.
Cherry doesn't need a ticket. She's a toy, says Pescado.
Cherry is offended.
An electronic parrot isn't a toy, says Cherry. But I could be a piece of equipment.
Yes! says Mariposa. Like a GPS or something.
What about me? says Terence. Can I be a piece of equipment?
He does not realise what this would entail.
Nor do the children.
Please dad!
Please! says Terence.
Who do you actually belong to? asks Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
No one, says Terence. Him.
Not really says Sweezus. Long story.
Any objections from anyone? asks Pedro.
Is he kidding?
Everyone is glad.
Well now, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado, if I remember correctly, you're all sleeping here tonight, because Arthur, having chosen to take a train ride, and falling from the roof of the train under mysterious circumstances, and having to be rescued and given a lift in a farm truck, thereby arriving here late for dinner, has failed to make a hotel booking for his party. But it's fine by me. We have many spare bedrooms. What about you, Simon?
We're fine, says Simon. We have a hotel. It's only Gaius's party. I guess we should head off there. Thanks for the wonderful dinner.
Take a few preserved figs with you, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. And don't forget the tadpoles. Mariposa, go into the kitchen and get them some ziplocks.
Off she goes, to find ziplocks.
Friday, May 11, 2018
Fig Fracture
Mariposa has not gone inside yet.
She flicks torchlight over the fountain.
The droplets sparkle.
Like sweat drops, says Princess Pacchu.
So you lived on a farm, says Mariposa. What was that like?
Dreary, says Princess Pacchu.
You should apply for a passport, says Saint Roley. I've got one. It means I can go where I like.
Do they give passports to guinea pigs? asks Princess Pacchu.
Apply for a parrot one, says Saint Roley.
Is that what you've got? asks Mariposa.
Yes, says Saint Roley. It means I don't have to travel in a box.
Or a sack? asks Princess Pacchu.
Or a sack, says Saint Roley.
I'm going to Hawaii, says Mariposa. I get three days off school.
Her brother comes out to the fountain.
Dad says come in, says Pescado.
Okay. Are you guys coming? asks Mariposa.
No, says Saint Roley.
You should. They're deciding the future, says Pescado. Who goes where, with who and when.
Yes, you should, says Mariposa. Try and forget about the guinea pig dinner. It's all cleared away.
Easy for you to say, says Saint Roley. Princess Pacchu needs more space and time.
Do you like preserved figs in syrup, dear beautiful guinea pig Princess Pacchu? asks Mariposa. We have some.
Who could resist THIS cosmic fracture?
I do, she replies.
They go into the dining room. There is a plate of preserved figs on the table, each fig dripping with syrup and placed on a slice of fresh cheese.
Simon is saying: I'll contact the Riobamba team in the morning, and find out where they want the new tadpoles. Ideally, somewhere on the lower slopes of Chimborazo.
How good will that be? says Lydia.
Excellent! says Buzz. That means I can climb Chimborazo with these guys.
Afterwards, says Simon.
Sure. Afterwards, says Buzz.
And me, says Tilly. I'm climbing too. You Lydia?
Yep, says Lydia.
I'm losing my team, says Simon.
You have me, says Gaius.
And me, says Saint Roley.
And me, says Princess Pacchu.
We're losing our guinea pig, says Arthur.
I was never your guinea pig, says Princess Pacchu, biting into a fig.
She flicks torchlight over the fountain.
The droplets sparkle.
Like sweat drops, says Princess Pacchu.
So you lived on a farm, says Mariposa. What was that like?
Dreary, says Princess Pacchu.
You should apply for a passport, says Saint Roley. I've got one. It means I can go where I like.
Do they give passports to guinea pigs? asks Princess Pacchu.
Apply for a parrot one, says Saint Roley.
Is that what you've got? asks Mariposa.
Yes, says Saint Roley. It means I don't have to travel in a box.
Or a sack? asks Princess Pacchu.
Or a sack, says Saint Roley.
I'm going to Hawaii, says Mariposa. I get three days off school.
Her brother comes out to the fountain.
Dad says come in, says Pescado.
Okay. Are you guys coming? asks Mariposa.
No, says Saint Roley.
You should. They're deciding the future, says Pescado. Who goes where, with who and when.
Yes, you should, says Mariposa. Try and forget about the guinea pig dinner. It's all cleared away.
Easy for you to say, says Saint Roley. Princess Pacchu needs more space and time.
Do you like preserved figs in syrup, dear beautiful guinea pig Princess Pacchu? asks Mariposa. We have some.
Who could resist THIS cosmic fracture?
I do, she replies.
They go into the dining room. There is a plate of preserved figs on the table, each fig dripping with syrup and placed on a slice of fresh cheese.
Simon is saying: I'll contact the Riobamba team in the morning, and find out where they want the new tadpoles. Ideally, somewhere on the lower slopes of Chimborazo.
How good will that be? says Lydia.
Excellent! says Buzz. That means I can climb Chimborazo with these guys.
Afterwards, says Simon.
Sure. Afterwards, says Buzz.
And me, says Tilly. I'm climbing too. You Lydia?
Yep, says Lydia.
I'm losing my team, says Simon.
You have me, says Gaius.
And me, says Saint Roley.
And me, says Princess Pacchu.
We're losing our guinea pig, says Arthur.
I was never your guinea pig, says Princess Pacchu, biting into a fig.
Thursday, May 10, 2018
Longer Than A Galaxy
Saint Roley and Princess Pacchu gaze upwards.
Stars twinkle.
Seen any cosmic strings yet? asks Cherry.
Not yet, says Saint Roley.
There's one! says Cherry.
But no. It's a flashlight.
There they are, says Mariposa.
Come back inside, says Terence.
No, says Saint Roley. We don't have to.
Cherry has to, says Terence.
Cherry goes inside.
I'm back, says Cherry. Do your worst. Just remember, my tail is my glory.
No one will curtail you, says Gaius, if that's what you fear. Terence often invents his own meanings.
Good, says Cherry I was out of my depth out there. What are cosmic strings?
I bet dad knows, says Pescado.
Of course his dad knows.
They are tiny hairline fractures threaded through space and time, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
That's cool, says Lydia.
But theoretical, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
I was going to say, says Gaius.
So was I, says Simon.
Indeed, says Pedro. They have not yet been detected.
So someone just made them up, says Sweezus. That's mental.
Like Saint Roley, says Cherry. He made them up for a poem.
As good a reason as any, says Pedro. But if cosmic strings were to be detected....
....it might explain a number of things, says Gaius.
What things? asks Arthur. Poetical things?
Things that don't make sense at the moment, says Gaius. That's how science works.
Let's drink to science, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. And cosmic strings, thinner than an atom and longer than a galaxy.
Guess what! cries Terence, coming in. We saw one!
You couldn't have, says Cherry. They're thinner than an atom.
Theoretically, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado, pouring everyone except Pescado another glass of Espiritu del Ecuador.
We saw a FAT one, says Terence. And I saw it first.
Ha ha! laughs Pedro Vicente Maldonado. No doubt you saw something. I'll tell you what, if you do climb Chimborazo you'll be at the point on earth closest to the moon.
Are you sure about that? asks Gaius. It's not the earth's highest mountain.
It is closest to the moon, due to it's location on the equatorial bulge, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
Well, well, says Gaius.
Pescado can't help feeling proud of his dad.
Stars twinkle.
Seen any cosmic strings yet? asks Cherry.
Not yet, says Saint Roley.
There's one! says Cherry.
But no. It's a flashlight.
There they are, says Mariposa.
Come back inside, says Terence.
No, says Saint Roley. We don't have to.
Cherry has to, says Terence.
Cherry goes inside.
I'm back, says Cherry. Do your worst. Just remember, my tail is my glory.
No one will curtail you, says Gaius, if that's what you fear. Terence often invents his own meanings.
Good, says Cherry I was out of my depth out there. What are cosmic strings?
I bet dad knows, says Pescado.
Of course his dad knows.
They are tiny hairline fractures threaded through space and time, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
That's cool, says Lydia.
But theoretical, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
I was going to say, says Gaius.
So was I, says Simon.
Indeed, says Pedro. They have not yet been detected.
So someone just made them up, says Sweezus. That's mental.
Like Saint Roley, says Cherry. He made them up for a poem.
As good a reason as any, says Pedro. But if cosmic strings were to be detected....
....it might explain a number of things, says Gaius.
What things? asks Arthur. Poetical things?
Things that don't make sense at the moment, says Gaius. That's how science works.
Let's drink to science, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. And cosmic strings, thinner than an atom and longer than a galaxy.
Guess what! cries Terence, coming in. We saw one!
You couldn't have, says Cherry. They're thinner than an atom.
Theoretically, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado, pouring everyone except Pescado another glass of Espiritu del Ecuador.
We saw a FAT one, says Terence. And I saw it first.
Ha ha! laughs Pedro Vicente Maldonado. No doubt you saw something. I'll tell you what, if you do climb Chimborazo you'll be at the point on earth closest to the moon.
Are you sure about that? asks Gaius. It's not the earth's highest mountain.
It is closest to the moon, due to it's location on the equatorial bulge, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
Well, well, says Gaius.
Pescado can't help feeling proud of his dad.
Wednesday, May 9, 2018
Cosmic Strings
Hello, says Cherry, landing next to the fountain.
What's up? says Saint Roley. You look scared.
I was facing curtailment, says Cherry. I escaped.
What is curtailment exactly? asks Saint Roley.
Tail off, says Cherry. Terence said.
I wouldn't trust Terence, says Saint Roley. Forget him. Help us with our poem.
Okay, says Cherry. What is a poem?
A form of enlightenment, says Saint Roley. I made one, earlier, about how I learned of the death of my brother. Now I'm helping Princess Pacchu to make one.
Who? asks Cherry.
Me, says the guinea pig. Princess Pacchu. That's my name.
Who gave you that? asks Cherry.
I gave it to myself, says Princess Pacchu.
It's nice, says Cherry. I'd like to help with your poem. Are poems like geometry? I know a bit about pie.
NO! says Saint Roley. And we've already started. Princess Pacchu will recite the first line.
I little thought, says Princess Pacchu.
Exactly, says Cherry. I myself little thought about pie.
No no! says Saint Roley.
I wasn't suggesting it as a line, says Cherry I was just thinking about the similarity.
Well, that shows you were listening, says Saint Roley. Now keep on listening.
Cherry listens, and looks at the fountain.
Princess Pacchu recites:
I little thought
as I travelled to market
in the back of a truck
that belonged to my farmers
Oswaldo and Ana
that they would stop and give a lift to two strangers.
I suppose they little thought that as well, says Cherry.
Who cares what THEY thought? says Saint Roley. They gave Princess Picchu to the strangers.
Why were you going to market? asks Cherry.
I don't know, says Princess Pacchu.
( And if she did, it might alter the story).
She continues:
I little thought
enclosed in a sack
listening to the strangers
who spoke of dinner
what that dinner would be
That's not so good, says Cherry.
Yes it is, says Saint Roley. She's maintaining the narrative. Go on, Princess.
But that's as far as we got, says Princess Pacchu.
How about this? says Cherry. I little thought that there would be a geometry puzzle after dinner. A hard one.
Princess Pacchu and Saint Roley ignore Cherry.
How about this? says Saint Roley:
I little thought
I would smell my cooked sisters and brothers.
So I left the pink house with Saint Roley
And we sat by the fountain
And looked at the stars
And tried to detect cosmic strings.
O yes, that's lovely! says Princess Pacchu.
Did you really? asks Cherry.
What? says Princess Pacchu.
Try to detect cosmic strings?
We're doing it now, says Saint Roley.
Tuesday, May 8, 2018
An Elusive Prediction
Is Cherry a real parrot? asks Sweezus.
Ha ha, no, says Terence. She's electric.
Electronic, says Pescado. And she's not as good at maths as we thought. She mixed pi up.
So you tell me, says Cherry. Pie sounds like pie to me.
There's round pies and cut up pies, says Terence. The cut up ones are triangles. See?
He points to the geometry puzzle and knocks over his colada morada.
A deep purple stain appears on the table, growing larger.....
A cut piece of pie's not a triangle, says Mariposa. It's a sector.
What's this about pies? asks Buzz, who has until now remained silent.
Good question young man, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. There are more pressing problems. Number one: Who has the Sea Salt?
Me, says Arthur. Do you want some?
I would like to see a demonstration of its power, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. If it works I shall buy some, and astonish the Hawaiians.
Yes! says Mariposa. Let's try it!
Arthur pulls a handful of Sea Salt from his shorts pocket.
Why is it brown? asks Pescado.
Blood, says Arthur. Or dirt from the Devil's Nose Mountain.
Wow, says Pescado. What happens next?
It sometimes prognosticates, says Arthur. But don't get your hopes up.
I was led to believe it was infallible, says Pedro. Mother said so.
Arthur flicks some Sea Salt onto the purple stain on the table.
It arranges itself in what would be a triangular formation, but for a hole in the top.
It seems to mean something.
A volcano? says Gaius. But who is it for?
Possibly me, and the children, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. A volcano is currently erupting in Hawaii.
Is it? says Mariposa, alarmed.
Not in Honolulu, says her father. Don't worry, Mariposa.
Possibly me, says Gaius. I once had a bad experience with a volcano.
It's not the past, it's the future, says Arthur. Isn't there a massive volcano near here?
Chimborazo, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Six thousand two hundred and sixty three metres. You young people should climb it. Although, this is not the best season....
Yeah? says Sweezus. Looks like maybe we're going to.
Wait a minute says Gaius. We don't have time for that. We're here to help Simon translocate some marsupial tree frogs.
Simon looks hard at the Sea Salt formation.
What if it's not a volcano, but a curtailment?
That's it, says Buzz, it's a curtailment?
What's a curtailment? asks Terence.
I hope it's not what I think it is, says Cherry.
No it isn't, says Gaius, if what you think it is, is what I think you think it is.
Curtailment. Terence thinks hard.
Cutting her tail off! shouts Terence. Run, Cherry!
Cherry zips off to the window. Flies out through it and lands near the fountain where Saint Roley is helping the guinea pig compose an uplifting poem.
Ha ha, no, says Terence. She's electric.
Electronic, says Pescado. And she's not as good at maths as we thought. She mixed pi up.
So you tell me, says Cherry. Pie sounds like pie to me.
There's round pies and cut up pies, says Terence. The cut up ones are triangles. See?
He points to the geometry puzzle and knocks over his colada morada.
A deep purple stain appears on the table, growing larger.....
A cut piece of pie's not a triangle, says Mariposa. It's a sector.
What's this about pies? asks Buzz, who has until now remained silent.
Good question young man, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. There are more pressing problems. Number one: Who has the Sea Salt?
Me, says Arthur. Do you want some?
I would like to see a demonstration of its power, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. If it works I shall buy some, and astonish the Hawaiians.
Yes! says Mariposa. Let's try it!
Arthur pulls a handful of Sea Salt from his shorts pocket.
Why is it brown? asks Pescado.
Blood, says Arthur. Or dirt from the Devil's Nose Mountain.
Wow, says Pescado. What happens next?
It sometimes prognosticates, says Arthur. But don't get your hopes up.
I was led to believe it was infallible, says Pedro. Mother said so.
Arthur flicks some Sea Salt onto the purple stain on the table.
It arranges itself in what would be a triangular formation, but for a hole in the top.
It seems to mean something.
A volcano? says Gaius. But who is it for?
Possibly me, and the children, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. A volcano is currently erupting in Hawaii.
Is it? says Mariposa, alarmed.
Not in Honolulu, says her father. Don't worry, Mariposa.
Possibly me, says Gaius. I once had a bad experience with a volcano.
It's not the past, it's the future, says Arthur. Isn't there a massive volcano near here?
Chimborazo, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Six thousand two hundred and sixty three metres. You young people should climb it. Although, this is not the best season....
Yeah? says Sweezus. Looks like maybe we're going to.
Wait a minute says Gaius. We don't have time for that. We're here to help Simon translocate some marsupial tree frogs.
Simon looks hard at the Sea Salt formation.
What if it's not a volcano, but a curtailment?
That's it, says Buzz, it's a curtailment?
What's a curtailment? asks Terence.
I hope it's not what I think it is, says Cherry.
No it isn't, says Gaius, if what you think it is, is what I think you think it is.
Curtailment. Terence thinks hard.
Cutting her tail off! shouts Terence. Run, Cherry!
Cherry zips off to the window. Flies out through it and lands near the fountain where Saint Roley is helping the guinea pig compose an uplifting poem.
Monday, May 7, 2018
Puzzle Puzzle
Pedro Vicente Maldonado fetches his maps.
Here, says Pedro, is Ibarra, capital of Imbabura. Here is Quito. Here is Riobamba.
Simon frowns.
Let me see, says Gaius. Jupiter's balls! Are we to travel back in the direction we came?
Looks like it, says Simon. About three hundred k's.
Three hundred and seventeen precisely, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Perhaps you could get in touch with the team and meet them somewhere closer. You already have a collection of tadpoles.
Yes! says Lydia. Maybe we don't need to go there. We've got the tadpoles.
We'll see, says Simon. The thing is.....no, perhaps it won't matter.
Terence is finishing his second colada morada.
It's non alcoholic. It's made with black cornflour and flavoured with naranjillas and blueberries.
Cherry is watching him drink it.
Times twice, says Cherry.
Times twice what? asks Terence.
Is two, says Cherry.
Yes! says Mariposa. Very good Cherry.
That was rubbish, says Terence. What's the square root of pie?
But Cherry has forgotten.
Give her a puzzle, says Pescado.
Pedro gets out a pencil. (He always has one).
He draws a square, on a blank section of map.
He draws a straight line, from the square's top left corner to the bottom right corner.
He draws a second line from the centre point of the top of the square to the lower left corner.
He shades in the triangle formed on the base line.
What fraction is shaded? asks Pedro. Anyone?
The bottom fraction, says Terence.
I need you to be more specific, says Pedro.
Gaius likes the idea of the puzzle. But his head is full of travelling tadpoles. So is Simon's.
I LOVE geometry puzzles, says Pescado.
I don't LOVE them, says Mariposa.
One third, says Pescado.
Try again, says his father.
Sweezus was okay at geometry, at school. Until it got harder.
He bites the head off his bread child, and sucks out the jam.
Five twelfths? says Sweezus.
Explain how you got it, says Pedro.
Gotta be less than half, says Sweezus. And more than a third.
Why? asks Pedro.
Looks like it, says Sweezus.
That's not proper geometry, is it dad? says Pescado. What it looks like?
No it isn't, says Pedro. I'm sure someone can come up with a better answer.
Cherry?
Pie! says Cherry. A slice of.
But that too, is just what it looks like.
Here, says Pedro, is Ibarra, capital of Imbabura. Here is Quito. Here is Riobamba.
Simon frowns.
Let me see, says Gaius. Jupiter's balls! Are we to travel back in the direction we came?
Looks like it, says Simon. About three hundred k's.
Three hundred and seventeen precisely, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Perhaps you could get in touch with the team and meet them somewhere closer. You already have a collection of tadpoles.
Yes! says Lydia. Maybe we don't need to go there. We've got the tadpoles.
We'll see, says Simon. The thing is.....no, perhaps it won't matter.
Terence is finishing his second colada morada.
It's non alcoholic. It's made with black cornflour and flavoured with naranjillas and blueberries.
Cherry is watching him drink it.
Times twice, says Cherry.
Times twice what? asks Terence.
Is two, says Cherry.
Yes! says Mariposa. Very good Cherry.
That was rubbish, says Terence. What's the square root of pie?
But Cherry has forgotten.
Give her a puzzle, says Pescado.
Pedro gets out a pencil. (He always has one).
He draws a square, on a blank section of map.
He draws a straight line, from the square's top left corner to the bottom right corner.
He draws a second line from the centre point of the top of the square to the lower left corner.
He shades in the triangle formed on the base line.
What fraction is shaded? asks Pedro. Anyone?
The bottom fraction, says Terence.
I need you to be more specific, says Pedro.
Gaius likes the idea of the puzzle. But his head is full of travelling tadpoles. So is Simon's.
I LOVE geometry puzzles, says Pescado.
I don't LOVE them, says Mariposa.
One third, says Pescado.
Try again, says his father.
Sweezus was okay at geometry, at school. Until it got harder.
He bites the head off his bread child, and sucks out the jam.
Five twelfths? says Sweezus.
Explain how you got it, says Pedro.
Gotta be less than half, says Sweezus. And more than a third.
Why? asks Pedro.
Looks like it, says Sweezus.
That's not proper geometry, is it dad? says Pescado. What it looks like?
No it isn't, says Pedro. I'm sure someone can come up with a better answer.
Cherry?
Pie! says Cherry. A slice of.
But that too, is just what it looks like.
Sunday, May 6, 2018
Dad Made All The Maps
Come, says Saint Roley to the guinea pig.
He has seen an open window.
He could fly out, but she couldn't.
He asks Mariposa.
May we go out?
Have to ask dad, says Mariposa.
What's this? asks Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Do they want to go out?
Yes, says Mariposa.
Then let them out, says her father.
That's our guinea pig, says Sweezus. Don't lose it.
Saint Roley and the guinea pig follow Mariposa to the front door.
Mariposa comes back to the table.
The remains of the spit roasted guinea pigs are piled up on a platter.
An employee of the caterer comes out from the kitchen and takes them away.
All the little feet, and the tails and burnt ears that nobody wanted.
Simon is explaining why the meeting at the university didn't go all that well.
Seems the team we're working with have left for Imbabura already, says Simon.
It's too bad, says Lydia. We have to make our own way there.
We'll need better maps, says Simon.
Maps! says Pedro Vicente Maldonado.Then I am your person.
Dad made all the maps of this country, says Pescado.
He exaggerates a little, says Pedro. But it's true I've done a great deal of mapping.
I should like to see them, says Gaius.
You will, says Pedro. But first, we must finish our dinner. The sweet is now coming. T'anta wawa.
What a nice name says Tilly. What does it mean?
Bread children, says Pedro.
The plate of bread children is carried in and placed on the table.
They are little bread rolls shaped like children, split and filled with red jam. Green icing is drizzled over the children to make them look festive.
Red jam! says Terence.
And a purple drink to go with it, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Colada morada.
Yay! My favourite drink, says Terence.
You never had it before, says Sweezus.
Wait, says Terence.
You're funny, says Mariposa.
Terence knows he is funny. And now he has everyone's attention.
Except for Saint Roley, who's gone.
Saint Roley and the guinea pig are sitting outside near the fountain.
Comparing stories.
Put in a sack, says the guinea pig. Parted from my siblings.
Floating away on a wet sheet of cardboard, says Saint Roley. Away from my brother.
They stare at the fountain.
Water shoots up and drifts down.
He has seen an open window.
He could fly out, but she couldn't.
He asks Mariposa.
May we go out?
Have to ask dad, says Mariposa.
What's this? asks Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Do they want to go out?
Yes, says Mariposa.
Then let them out, says her father.
That's our guinea pig, says Sweezus. Don't lose it.
Saint Roley and the guinea pig follow Mariposa to the front door.
Mariposa comes back to the table.
The remains of the spit roasted guinea pigs are piled up on a platter.
An employee of the caterer comes out from the kitchen and takes them away.
All the little feet, and the tails and burnt ears that nobody wanted.
Simon is explaining why the meeting at the university didn't go all that well.
Seems the team we're working with have left for Imbabura already, says Simon.
It's too bad, says Lydia. We have to make our own way there.
We'll need better maps, says Simon.
Maps! says Pedro Vicente Maldonado.Then I am your person.
Dad made all the maps of this country, says Pescado.
He exaggerates a little, says Pedro. But it's true I've done a great deal of mapping.
I should like to see them, says Gaius.
You will, says Pedro. But first, we must finish our dinner. The sweet is now coming. T'anta wawa.
What a nice name says Tilly. What does it mean?
Bread children, says Pedro.
The plate of bread children is carried in and placed on the table.
They are little bread rolls shaped like children, split and filled with red jam. Green icing is drizzled over the children to make them look festive.
Red jam! says Terence.
And a purple drink to go with it, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Colada morada.
Yay! My favourite drink, says Terence.
You never had it before, says Sweezus.
Wait, says Terence.
You're funny, says Mariposa.
Terence knows he is funny. And now he has everyone's attention.
Except for Saint Roley, who's gone.
Saint Roley and the guinea pig are sitting outside near the fountain.
Comparing stories.
Put in a sack, says the guinea pig. Parted from my siblings.
Floating away on a wet sheet of cardboard, says Saint Roley. Away from my brother.
They stare at the fountain.
Water shoots up and drifts down.
Saturday, May 5, 2018
Little Burnt Ears
Mariposa brings out the decorative bottle of Espiritu del Ecuador.
It represents the Middle of the World monument in Quito, which marks the equator.
A toast, before the next course, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
They drink it.
The next course is brought in.
.....
Knock knock.
Pescado opens.
It's Sweezus and Arthur.
You're late, says Pescado. And his knees are bleeding!
He fell off the train, says Sweezus.
Wow! says Pescado. And what's that in the sack?
Yeah, where can we put it? asks Sweezus.
Bring it in, says Pescado.
...
Arthur! says Gaius. You've been in the wars.
We both have, says Sweezus. What's for dinner?
We're about to begin the second course, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Sit down, boys.
What's in the sack? asks Lydia.
Long story, says Sweezus.
A high pitched sound, Kuyee! wails from the depths of it.
Arthur now notices what's piled on the central platter.
Spit roasted guinea pigs.
You can tell by their little burnt ears.
I fell down a steep mountain, says Arthur. I was injured. Sweezus found me and slid down with the string. We pulled ourselves up to the train track. Some local farmers saw us and gave us a lift into town. They gave us a guinea pig.
Errh! says Sweezus.
Too late. Arthur has divulged the nature of the gift as a live guinea pig. It seems inappropriate when guinea pig is for dinner. But Arthur doesn't mind causing trouble
Kuyee!
Let it out! cries Mariposa!
Arthur opens the sack which is tied loosely with the remains of the eco-friendly string.
Out dashes the guinea pig, beside herself, after smelling cooked sisters and brothers.
A fine gift, says Pedro Vincente Maldonado. You were honoured.
They must've liked us, says Sweezus. This looks good. Never eaten roast guinea pig before.
Saint Roley looks at Terence.
Terence is spearing yellow popcorns with his claw.
Lydia and Tilly look sympathetic. But their good manners won't let them get up from the table.
Saint Roley flutters down to the corner where the live guinea pig, gift of farmers, is shivering.
And tries to befriend her.
I too am offended, says Saint Roley.
It represents the Middle of the World monument in Quito, which marks the equator.
A toast, before the next course, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
They drink it.
The next course is brought in.
.....
Knock knock.
Pescado opens.
It's Sweezus and Arthur.
You're late, says Pescado. And his knees are bleeding!
He fell off the train, says Sweezus.
Wow! says Pescado. And what's that in the sack?
Yeah, where can we put it? asks Sweezus.
Bring it in, says Pescado.
...
Arthur! says Gaius. You've been in the wars.
We both have, says Sweezus. What's for dinner?
We're about to begin the second course, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Sit down, boys.
What's in the sack? asks Lydia.
Long story, says Sweezus.
A high pitched sound, Kuyee! wails from the depths of it.
Arthur now notices what's piled on the central platter.
Spit roasted guinea pigs.
You can tell by their little burnt ears.
I fell down a steep mountain, says Arthur. I was injured. Sweezus found me and slid down with the string. We pulled ourselves up to the train track. Some local farmers saw us and gave us a lift into town. They gave us a guinea pig.
Errh! says Sweezus.
Too late. Arthur has divulged the nature of the gift as a live guinea pig. It seems inappropriate when guinea pig is for dinner. But Arthur doesn't mind causing trouble
Kuyee!
Let it out! cries Mariposa!
Arthur opens the sack which is tied loosely with the remains of the eco-friendly string.
Out dashes the guinea pig, beside herself, after smelling cooked sisters and brothers.
A fine gift, says Pedro Vincente Maldonado. You were honoured.
They must've liked us, says Sweezus. This looks good. Never eaten roast guinea pig before.
Saint Roley looks at Terence.
Terence is spearing yellow popcorns with his claw.
Lydia and Tilly look sympathetic. But their good manners won't let them get up from the table.
Saint Roley flutters down to the corner where the live guinea pig, gift of farmers, is shivering.
And tries to befriend her.
I too am offended, says Saint Roley.
Friday, May 4, 2018
To Be Mortal
The parent frogs, Piffy and Pi-face, become anxious.
Their tadpoles have slowed down. Three more have sunk to the bottom.
Piffy blames it all on the pool salt.
It could be anything, says Pi-face.
No, it's the pool salt, says Piffy. Pescado used too many grains.
This could end badly, for the tadpoles, but....
Simon comes in.
Wonderful, says Simon when he sees the number of tadpoles still swimming.
Another one drops to the bottom.
This alerts Simon, who is an expert in frogs.
He sticks his finger in the tadpole-teeming water. Licks it.
Too much salt! Is there a tap in the frog room?
Yes.
He dilutes the water.
The tadpoles speed up immediately, hectically swimming.
We're saved!
Saved, except for the dead ones.
Simon goes back to the salon.
Where is everyone?
They have moved to the dining room.
Pedro Vicente Maldonado will not wait any longer for Sweezus and Arthur.
We'll save them some encebollado, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. It's easy enough to warm up.
Is it soup? asks Lydia.
Fish stew, says Mariposa.
Does it contain molluscs? asks Saint Roley.
It's billfish, albacore or tuna, says Pescado.
So, no.
The fish stew comes in.
It is served with boiled cassava, pickles and onion rings. Banana chips and popcorn on the side. The dressing of tomato, lime juice and chilli is served separately, as Gaius requested.
This is all very nice , says Gaius.
What can I have? asks Terence.
Try a popcorn, says Mariposa.
Terence spears one with his little claw finger.
How were the frogs? asks Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
They'll be happier now, says Simon. I adjusted the salt content in the water. I was going to ask...would it be all right if we took a few tadpoles?
Ask the children, says Pedro.
Yes, says Mariposa. We're going to Hawaii. You can take all of them.
Yes, you can, says Pescado. But not Piffy and Pi-face.
Excellent, says Simon, eating a spoonful of encebollado. Aaah! This is very good stew.
Our national dish, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. I often request it.
Are you off to Hawaii for a holiday? asks Gaius.
Not entirely, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. I'm making a speech at an astronomical conference.
On what subject, if you don't mind me asking? says Gaius.
The equinoctial line, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. A pet subject of mine. Ecuador enjoys a privileged astronomical position.
Quite so, says Gaius. On the equator and close to the heavens.
Ha ha! laughs Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Well put. Mariposa, fetch the decorative bottle of Espritu del Ecuador. We shall toast our various enterprises.
Saint Roley, who is trying a lump of soggy billfish, stops trying.
He looks over at Cherry, who never eats anything, and never defecates, and has no idea what it's like to be mortal.
Their tadpoles have slowed down. Three more have sunk to the bottom.
Piffy blames it all on the pool salt.
It could be anything, says Pi-face.
No, it's the pool salt, says Piffy. Pescado used too many grains.
This could end badly, for the tadpoles, but....
Simon comes in.
Wonderful, says Simon when he sees the number of tadpoles still swimming.
Another one drops to the bottom.
This alerts Simon, who is an expert in frogs.
He sticks his finger in the tadpole-teeming water. Licks it.
Too much salt! Is there a tap in the frog room?
Yes.
He dilutes the water.
The tadpoles speed up immediately, hectically swimming.
We're saved!
Saved, except for the dead ones.
Simon goes back to the salon.
Where is everyone?
They have moved to the dining room.
Pedro Vicente Maldonado will not wait any longer for Sweezus and Arthur.
We'll save them some encebollado, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. It's easy enough to warm up.
Is it soup? asks Lydia.
Fish stew, says Mariposa.
Does it contain molluscs? asks Saint Roley.
It's billfish, albacore or tuna, says Pescado.
So, no.
The fish stew comes in.
It is served with boiled cassava, pickles and onion rings. Banana chips and popcorn on the side. The dressing of tomato, lime juice and chilli is served separately, as Gaius requested.
This is all very nice , says Gaius.
What can I have? asks Terence.
Try a popcorn, says Mariposa.
Terence spears one with his little claw finger.
How were the frogs? asks Pedro Vicente Maldonado.
They'll be happier now, says Simon. I adjusted the salt content in the water. I was going to ask...would it be all right if we took a few tadpoles?
Ask the children, says Pedro.
Yes, says Mariposa. We're going to Hawaii. You can take all of them.
Yes, you can, says Pescado. But not Piffy and Pi-face.
Excellent, says Simon, eating a spoonful of encebollado. Aaah! This is very good stew.
Our national dish, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. I often request it.
Are you off to Hawaii for a holiday? asks Gaius.
Not entirely, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. I'm making a speech at an astronomical conference.
On what subject, if you don't mind me asking? says Gaius.
The equinoctial line, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. A pet subject of mine. Ecuador enjoys a privileged astronomical position.
Quite so, says Gaius. On the equator and close to the heavens.
Ha ha! laughs Pedro Vicente Maldonado. Well put. Mariposa, fetch the decorative bottle of Espritu del Ecuador. We shall toast our various enterprises.
Saint Roley, who is trying a lump of soggy billfish, stops trying.
He looks over at Cherry, who never eats anything, and never defecates, and has no idea what it's like to be mortal.
Thursday, May 3, 2018
Astronomy I Think
Arthur has bucked up considerably, since Sweezus arrived bearing string.
How easy now, to pull themselves up the precipitous mountain.
Arthur pictures a method.
Make a loop in the string. Lasso a sapling. And so on.
Sweezus is unrolling the string.
Bugger! says Sweezus. String splinter!
Let me, says Arthur.
Nup. I'll do it, says Sweezus. This is really shit string.
Must be jute string, says Arthur. Hemp string's better.
Amazeballs, bro! says Sweezus. How come you know that?
Sea Salt packaging marketing research, says Arthur. Hemp has longer fibres.
So what, says Sweezus.
Stronger, says Arthur, and softer.
And you reckon this is jute? says Sweezus.
Yes, says Arthur.
Sweezus re-examines his string.
I reckon it's hemp, says Sweezus. Maybe that wasn't a splinter.
I don't care what it is, says Arthur. Make a loop and lasso a sapling.
Right, says Sweezus.
By this means they inch up the mountain.
.........
Lydia, Tilly and Buzz are in the frog room, watching the tadpoles.
The tadpoles are hectically swimming.
You put too much salt in, says Mariposa.
A few grains, says Pescado.
They look quite healthy, says Lydia. Really.
A tadpole drops to the bottom of the tank.
Except that one, says Buzz.
You guys are lucky, says Tilly. You've got your own frog room. Is your dad a scientist?
Yes, says Mariposa. And an explorer. And he collaborated in the Spanish/French Geodesic Mission. He's even got a statue.
And a street named after him, says Pescado. And a college.
Wow, says Tilly. And you're off to Hawaii?
Yes, says Pescado. Dad's giving a talk.
What on? asks Lydia.
Astronomy, I think, says Pescado
We should go back to the salon, says Mariposa. Dinner might be ready.
What are we having? asks Lydia.
Mariposa considers telling Lydia that the main course is baked guinea pig, but decides not to.
Surprise, says Mariposa.
They head back to the salon, leaving Piffy and Pi-face to monitor the fate of their progeny.
How easy now, to pull themselves up the precipitous mountain.
Arthur pictures a method.
Make a loop in the string. Lasso a sapling. And so on.
Sweezus is unrolling the string.
Bugger! says Sweezus. String splinter!
Let me, says Arthur.
Nup. I'll do it, says Sweezus. This is really shit string.
Must be jute string, says Arthur. Hemp string's better.
Amazeballs, bro! says Sweezus. How come you know that?
Sea Salt packaging marketing research, says Arthur. Hemp has longer fibres.
So what, says Sweezus.
Stronger, says Arthur, and softer.
And you reckon this is jute? says Sweezus.
Yes, says Arthur.
Sweezus re-examines his string.
I reckon it's hemp, says Sweezus. Maybe that wasn't a splinter.
I don't care what it is, says Arthur. Make a loop and lasso a sapling.
Right, says Sweezus.
By this means they inch up the mountain.
.........
Lydia, Tilly and Buzz are in the frog room, watching the tadpoles.
The tadpoles are hectically swimming.
You put too much salt in, says Mariposa.
A few grains, says Pescado.
They look quite healthy, says Lydia. Really.
A tadpole drops to the bottom of the tank.
Except that one, says Buzz.
You guys are lucky, says Tilly. You've got your own frog room. Is your dad a scientist?
Yes, says Mariposa. And an explorer. And he collaborated in the Spanish/French Geodesic Mission. He's even got a statue.
And a street named after him, says Pescado. And a college.
Wow, says Tilly. And you're off to Hawaii?
Yes, says Pescado. Dad's giving a talk.
What on? asks Lydia.
Astronomy, I think, says Pescado
We should go back to the salon, says Mariposa. Dinner might be ready.
What are we having? asks Lydia.
Mariposa considers telling Lydia that the main course is baked guinea pig, but decides not to.
Surprise, says Mariposa.
They head back to the salon, leaving Piffy and Pi-face to monitor the fate of their progeny.
Wednesday, May 2, 2018
A Cruel Experiment
Arthur's knees are bleeding.
He pulls a dirty bandage from his pocket.
A stone skitters past his ear.
A rescuer?
No it isn't.
Sweezus won't have stopped the train.
If he stops the train they'll both be busted.
It occurs to Arthur that Sweezus may have jumped from the train and even now may be walking back on the hazardous train track, looking for him.
Another stone skitters.
Arthur looks up, through the thorns.
........
Knock knock.
Mariposa opens.
It's Simon, and the Riobamba team.
Is this the right house? asks Simon. Pedro Vincente Maldonado?
Yes, says Mariposa. Come in. Everyone is looking at Piffy and Pi-face.
You have a nice house, says Lydia.
Are Piffy and Pi-face your frogs? asks Tilly.
Are Sweezus and Arthur here? asks Buzz.
Thank you. Yes. Not yet, says Mariposa.
She leads them into the grand salon.
Welcome, all, says Pedro Vincente Maldonado. You're just in time to see the frogs before they return to the frog room.
Hello Simon, says Gaius. How did the meeting go?
Not all that satisfactory says Simon. But never mind. Let's see these frogs.
Piffy's eggs have developed to tadpole stage and should be in water.
Plop plop. Argh!
She should be in water, says Simon. How would you like to be part of an experiment?
Me? asks Pescado.
You and your frogs, says Simon.
He takes out his pool salt.
Tip a few grains of this in their water, says Simon. And see how many tadpoles survive.
That's cruel, says Mariposa.
Pescado takes the pool salt. He is all for experiments.
His dad looks approving.
Ding dong.
It's the caterers, bringing containers of dinner.
Take them round to the kitchen, says Pedro Vincente Maldonado.
When's dinner? asks Terence.
Hush, says Gaius. Obviously soon.
Sweezus and Arthur aren't here yet, says Terence. What if they fell off the train?
Until now no one has thought of this happening.
......
Bro? calls out Sweezus.
Down here, answers Arthur.
Fuck, says Sweezus. Stay right where you are.
He slides down the almost perpendicular mountain on his bottom and stops near the sapling.
My dream, mumbles Arthur.
You're delirious, buddy, says Sweezus.
He looks around at the difficult spot he has landed himself in.
Got a pencil? asks Arthur.
No, mate, says Sweezus. He feels in his pocket.
Awesome. What he does have is some eco-friendly string.
He pulls a dirty bandage from his pocket.
A stone skitters past his ear.
A rescuer?
No it isn't.
Sweezus won't have stopped the train.
If he stops the train they'll both be busted.
It occurs to Arthur that Sweezus may have jumped from the train and even now may be walking back on the hazardous train track, looking for him.
Another stone skitters.
Arthur looks up, through the thorns.
........
Knock knock.
Mariposa opens.
It's Simon, and the Riobamba team.
Is this the right house? asks Simon. Pedro Vincente Maldonado?
Yes, says Mariposa. Come in. Everyone is looking at Piffy and Pi-face.
You have a nice house, says Lydia.
Are Piffy and Pi-face your frogs? asks Tilly.
Are Sweezus and Arthur here? asks Buzz.
Thank you. Yes. Not yet, says Mariposa.
She leads them into the grand salon.
Welcome, all, says Pedro Vincente Maldonado. You're just in time to see the frogs before they return to the frog room.
Hello Simon, says Gaius. How did the meeting go?
Not all that satisfactory says Simon. But never mind. Let's see these frogs.
Piffy's eggs have developed to tadpole stage and should be in water.
Plop plop. Argh!
She should be in water, says Simon. How would you like to be part of an experiment?
Me? asks Pescado.
You and your frogs, says Simon.
He takes out his pool salt.
Tip a few grains of this in their water, says Simon. And see how many tadpoles survive.
That's cruel, says Mariposa.
Pescado takes the pool salt. He is all for experiments.
His dad looks approving.
Ding dong.
It's the caterers, bringing containers of dinner.
Take them round to the kitchen, says Pedro Vincente Maldonado.
When's dinner? asks Terence.
Hush, says Gaius. Obviously soon.
Sweezus and Arthur aren't here yet, says Terence. What if they fell off the train?
Until now no one has thought of this happening.
......
Bro? calls out Sweezus.
Down here, answers Arthur.
Fuck, says Sweezus. Stay right where you are.
He slides down the almost perpendicular mountain on his bottom and stops near the sapling.
My dream, mumbles Arthur.
You're delirious, buddy, says Sweezus.
He looks around at the difficult spot he has landed himself in.
Got a pencil? asks Arthur.
No, mate, says Sweezus. He feels in his pocket.
Awesome. What he does have is some eco-friendly string.
Tuesday, May 1, 2018
No Frogs On The Table
Would you like to see our frogs now? asks Mariposa.
I would indeed, says Gaius. Where do you keep them?
In our frog room, says Mariposa.
Bring them here, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. I don't think Gaius needs to see your frog room.
Mariposa and Pescado run off to the frog room, to get their frogs.
They come back minutes later, each holding a small Andean marsupial tree frog in cupped hands.
Plonk. They place the tree frogs on the mahogany table.
Off! says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. No frogs on the table.
Gaius picks them up.
Mariposa wipes her hand across the table.
Sorry, dad.
Gaius looks closely at the Riobamba tree frogs. One has a bulging dorsal pouch. He pokes it gently.
Pfff!
Hm. Fascinating, says Gaius. Gastrotheca riobambae. Skin smooth but granulated below. Length about 45 millimetres. How long I wonder until ......
Pfff! says the female Riobamba tree frog.
She's called Piffy, says Mariposa. And Pescado's is called Pi-face.
Children, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado, smiling indulgently.
Saint Roley tiptoes up to see the tree frogs. His stomach growls.
He hopes devoutly that there will be molluscs for dinner, or at least some type of seafood. What is encebollado? He doesn't like to ask.
Poor froggies, says Mariposa. They're on the list of Threatened Species.
The IUCN List of Threatened Species, says Pescado.
Learn that, Cherry, says Terence.
Cherry learns it. IUCN.
Threatened species. Gaius spares a fleeting thought for Arthur, who has taken a train ride instead of booking a hotel.
But Gaius does not know the half of it.
Arthur is still wedged against the sapling, on the perpendicular mountainside below the train track.
It's the sort of extremity he likes.
Ah ça! The clock of life stopped just then
I'm no longer in the world
theology is wrong
the sky is below me
and hell rumbles up there somewhere
what shitty thoughts we have, in the country.
Yes, he ought to write that down.
He starts crawling up the perpendicular hillside.
It is thorny, rough and the stones are unreliable.
This might take some time.
I would indeed, says Gaius. Where do you keep them?
In our frog room, says Mariposa.
Bring them here, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. I don't think Gaius needs to see your frog room.
Mariposa and Pescado run off to the frog room, to get their frogs.
They come back minutes later, each holding a small Andean marsupial tree frog in cupped hands.
Plonk. They place the tree frogs on the mahogany table.
Off! says Pedro Vicente Maldonado. No frogs on the table.
Gaius picks them up.
Mariposa wipes her hand across the table.
Sorry, dad.
Gaius looks closely at the Riobamba tree frogs. One has a bulging dorsal pouch. He pokes it gently.
Pfff!
Hm. Fascinating, says Gaius. Gastrotheca riobambae. Skin smooth but granulated below. Length about 45 millimetres. How long I wonder until ......
Pfff! says the female Riobamba tree frog.
She's called Piffy, says Mariposa. And Pescado's is called Pi-face.
Children, says Pedro Vicente Maldonado, smiling indulgently.
Saint Roley tiptoes up to see the tree frogs. His stomach growls.
He hopes devoutly that there will be molluscs for dinner, or at least some type of seafood. What is encebollado? He doesn't like to ask.
Poor froggies, says Mariposa. They're on the list of Threatened Species.
The IUCN List of Threatened Species, says Pescado.
Learn that, Cherry, says Terence.
Cherry learns it. IUCN.
Threatened species. Gaius spares a fleeting thought for Arthur, who has taken a train ride instead of booking a hotel.
But Gaius does not know the half of it.
Arthur is still wedged against the sapling, on the perpendicular mountainside below the train track.
It's the sort of extremity he likes.
Ah ça! The clock of life stopped just then
I'm no longer in the world
theology is wrong
the sky is below me
and hell rumbles up there somewhere
what shitty thoughts we have, in the country.
Yes, he ought to write that down.
He starts crawling up the perpendicular hillside.
It is thorny, rough and the stones are unreliable.
This might take some time.
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