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.