See Why

The same flight. Not in Dubai yet.

Humboldt sits next to Saint Roley.

This is my opportunity to get to know the bird better, thinks Humboldt.

Saint Roley is contemplating his snake socks. He never asked for snake socks.

The socks are ill-matched, thanks to a series of events, beginning with their purchase, and ending with him having to wear odd ones to mollify Terence.

It occurs to Saint Roley that now three of the four snake socks are distorted.

These are the thoughts of Saint Roley, when Humboldt interrupts them.

Tell me, says Humboldt, what happened that time when you left us to visit Saint Malo?

Ah, says Saint Roley. Some things are best not to speak of.

Sad things? asks Humboldt.

Sad things, says Saint Roley. I had a brother.

We all know that, says Humboldt. He was lost at sea. Did you sit on the shore and recall him?

No, says Saint Roley. I found him hard to remember. We were both young at the time.

Snack? asks a flight attendant, passing.

No thank you, says Humboldt.

I would have liked one, thinks Saint Roley. How can I get one?

He thinks of a plan.

Excuse me, says Saint Roley.

Certainly, says Humboldt, allowing him past.

Saint Roley follows the flight attendant with the snacks trolley.

Taps her hard on the back of her knee.

She buckles.

Eyup! says the flight attendant. It's the bird in the socks!

There is another flight attendant at the far end of the trolley. The drinks end.

Does he want a snack? asks the other one.

He may do, says the snacks one.

I do! says Saint Roley.

By now several aisle-seated passengers are staring at Saint Roley.

His socks look funny.

Saint Roley ignores them but resolves to take the socks off at the next opportunity.

Do you have anything resembling a mollusc? he asks politely.

In shape or in taste? asks the flight attendant.

Texture, preferably, says Saint Roley.

Not here, says the flight attendant, but in business class they are having smoked oysters.

Saint Roley is disappointed.

I could see if there are any leftovers, she adds.

Thank you, says Saint Roley. May I come with you?

Don't you trust me to do it? she asks.

He looks at her. Yes, he trusts her to do it.

But why would there be any smoked oysters left over? They are so delicious. He can almost taste them. The fishy aroma, the sweet bitterness, the grainy texture, the delightful possibility of grit......

He returns to his seat.

Better now? asks Humboldt.

Not yet, says Saint Roley.

The flight attendant returns with a bowl of smoked oysters.

Thank you, says Humboldt, but I didn't.....

They're for me, says Saint Roley.

Humboldt looks closer at the smoked oysters, and sees why.

Some have teeth marks.