A Turning Point Written In Sand

On the beach, it's dark and moonless.

Gaius sits on a rock.

Humboldt paces beside him.

Do sit, says Gaius.

The tide's coming in, says Humboldt.

They should be back soon, says Gaius.

I'll go and find them, says Terence.

No, you wait here, says Humboldt. I'll go.

He heads off in a southerly direction.

The comb crested jacana lands in front of him.

It's good that you're here! says the comb crested jacana.

What's happened? asks Humboldt.

Are you the artistic among us? asks the comb crested jacana.

Yes and no, says Humboldt. I dabble.

What about Gaius? asks the comb crested jacana.

I'm sure Gaius can set his hand to anything, says Humboldt. I take it there's a problem?

Yes, a problem, says the comb crested jacana. The ladies could do with a lift.

Fine, says Humboldt. I'll handle it. I presume you wish to describe the scene while it's fresh in your mind to the artistic among us, in this case Gaius?

I admire your emotional intelligence, says the comb crested jacana. Perhaps I should describe the tableau to you, but.... if you say Gaius can set his hand to anything...

I do, says Humboldt, and I would prefer to get on with the rescue.

Of course, says the comb crested jacana. Continue southerly. The tide has turned and the ladies have come to a standstill.

Humboldt bolts away in a southerly direction, hearing faint cries in the distance.

That will be them, he is certain.

The comb crested jacana flaps back to the rock on which Gaius is sitting, and the sand palace that Terence is halfway through building.

My parrot! cries Terence.

What's the story? asks Gaius. Have you returned early to tell it?

I have, says the comb crested jacana.

Begin, says Gaius. I shall make notes.

It's good of you, says the comb crested jacana. Not just making notes, but coming down to the beach in the evening, and preparing the plum box, letting Ageless use your pencils....

Damn! says Gaius. I forgot about the pencils.

Write the story in sand, says the comb crested jacana.

I suppose I'm obliged to, says Gaius. Start, please.

The sand is black, as is the water, says the comb crested jacana. The only sound is of wheels, and a lobster complaining. The ladies are beauties no doubt but no one can see them They moan in delight. (assuming it isn't discomfort). I fly overhead. Faintly I discern four pink fingers quivering, faintly I detect a fossilised hum....... Suddenly, swoosh, the rasping of pebbles, the scraping of water, the softening of pasta.

Is that a sound? asks Gaius. The softening of pasta.

To a bird, yes, says the comb crested jacana. And that is the crux of it.

What's a crux? asks Terence.

A turning point or crossroads, says Gaius. Be quiet and listen.

The pasta wheels of the plum box have softened, says the comb crested jacana. The plum box has come to a halt. The tide has turned. The ladies are oblivious. Ageless stops pulling and cries out to the heavens. As you know the heavens are stony.

Believe me I do know, says Gaius, writing in the sand furiously.

Was It Dark In The Painting?

The things we do! exclaims Gaius.

Indeed, agrees Humboldt. We are becoming nocturnal.

I meant this Picasso escapade with the plum box, says Gaius.

And the pasta wheels, says Humboldt. Which reminds me, when is high tide?

Good question, says Gaius. I'll consult my charts. No I won't. I don't have them.

They have arrived at the beach. Light is rapidly fading.

The comb crested jacana is there already, pacing up and down on the water.

O look, whispers Pinky. He's doing it. Walking on water.

The comb crested jacana stops walking, and hops over.

It's not easy, says the comb crested jacana. What with waves and so on.

Are we all ready? asks Gaius. If so, I'll hand over to Ageless.

At last, says Ageless.

Do be careful, Ageless, says Kobo. Our lives depend on it.

As if I would place you in danger, beloved, scoffs Ageless.

It's getting dark, says Pinky. Was it dark in the painting?

No it wasn't, says Kobo. But that can't be helped. At least this time you're conscious.

I'm SO conscious! says Pinky.

Ready, says Ageless.

Can I pull it? asks Terence.

No, says Gaius. Ageless will do it.

Ageless had not planned to do it. But he will do it.

His beloved will then be forever beholden.

But is there a string?

Any string? asks Ageless.

I'll go back and get some, says Humboldt. Wait here.

They wait for Humboldt.

Pinky chats with the comb crested jacana.

Have you eaten?

Yes, aquatic insects.

Which are your favourite?

The brown ones.

Aren't they all brown?

To be honest I don't really pay much attention.

Humboldt returns with a short length of string.

The string is attached to the plum box.

Will you come with us, in the plum box? Pinky asks the comb crested jacana.

No thanks, says the comb crested jacana. But I shall fly alongside you and witness the moving tableau.

How delightful, says Kobo. Perhaps you could afterwards describe it. And then the artistic among us might paint it, which......

But her words blow away.

Ageless is dragging the plum box in a southerly direction.

Wheee! cries Pinky.

Let's hold hands darling! cries Kobo. Aloft in the general euphoria!

Their long hair, non-existent, streams back, as their white garments slip from their shoulders.

But will the comb crested jacana perceive it?

I Lie Behind Stars

Some time elapses, passed in riddles.

What moves without seeing and cries without eyes? asks Kobo.

You, says Terence.

Wrong, says Kobo,. The answer is CLOUDS.

Excellent, says Gaius. Who has another one?

I do, says the old bandy bandy. I can't be seen, heard or smelled. I lie behind stars and under hills. I fill empty holes, I come first and follow after. What am I?

A bandy bandy, says Terence.

Wrong, says the old bandy bandy. The answer is DARK.

These are stupid, says Terence. Want a good one?

Yes, says Pinky.

I live in a palace, says Terence. No wait, I used to live in a palace. I have a magic bracelet. No wait, I used to have one, and I lost it. What am I?

A loser, says Ageless.

No need to rub it in, says Gaius.

ME! says Terence. Now you, Pinky.

This is FUN! cries Pinky.

You gave us the answer! says Terence.

That's not the answer, says Pinky. The answer is....CLOCK!

Darling, says Kobo. First you must ask the riddle.

What time is it? asks Pinky.

That's not even a riddle, says Terence.

I know, says Pinky, but my riddle reminded me .....

O yes, says Kobo, We're meeting the comb crested jacana at the beach at six thirty. What time is it?

Six fifteen, says Gaius. Plenty of time for Pinky to ask us her riddle.

When I take five and add six I get eleven, says Pinky.

Right! says Terence. Wait. Is it?

Right so far, says Gaius. Go ahead, Pinky.

But when I take six and add seven, I get one. What am I? asks Pinky.

Rubbish at sums, says Terence.

A CLOCK! says Kobo. Good one, Pinky. Do you get it, Terence?

No, says Terence.

It's one o'clock, says Pinky.

Can't be, says Terence.

It's six twenty five, says Gaius. We should be going.

They head for the beach in the twilight.

Gaius carries the plum box, with Kobo and Pinky inside.

Humboldt follows, with Terence and Ageless.

It occurs to Humboldt as they walk down the track to the sound of waves sloshing, that no one has checked on the tide times.

Often Running

Humboldt returns with a handful of blindworms.

He drops them on the table, near the bandy bandies.

The blindworms wriggle away.

Fearlessly they drop off the edge of the table.

Plop. Plop.

The bandy bandies follow.

How's the comparison going? asks Humboldt.

One of them speaks in riddles, says Gaius.

Really, which one? asks Humboldt.

The vermicella parscauda, says Gaius. He mentioned a riddle I've never heard of.

Perhaps I have, says Humboldt. I do enjoy riddles.

Moist is her eye, says Gaius. That was the last line of the riddle

Ah, says Humboldt. A naughty riddle.

I don't see why, says Gaius.

Yes, quite suggestive, says Humboldt. But I seem to forget how it goes.

Never mind then, says Gaius.

Know any good ones? asks Humboldt.

I know one good one, says Gaius.

So do I, says Ageless, who has finished adding pasta wheels to the plum box.

What is it? asks the old bandy bandy.

His or mine? asks Gaius.

His, says the old bandy bandy.

I'm often running, yet I have no legs. You need me but I don't need you. What am I? asks Ageless

A lobster, says the new bandy bandy.

It's a riddle! says Ageless. The answer can't be a lobster.

A snake, says the old one.

No, says Ageless. Give up yet?

A blind worm, says the new one. We need them but they don't need us.

(The blind worms would agree if they hadn't been eaten).

Water, says Ageless. Often running.

O very good! says Humboldt. Now, ask your riddle, Gaius.

He is about to, when Terence comes in.

Guess what? says Terence. I got here all on my own.

Well done, says Gaius. And guess what? You're in time for a riddle.

You've just missed a good one, says Ageless. Mine was so difficult no one could answer.

Water, says Kobo.

Lucky you weren't here, my pom-pom, says Ageless.

Go ahead, Gaius, says Humboldt.

Gaius asks his riddle.

It's a mathematical riddle, says Gaius. How can you take one from nineteen and the answer is twenty?

Easy, says Terence.

Only those who know mathematics, says Gaius.

The blind worms may have known mathematics, but they are out of contention.

Ageless has little interest.

Kobo is weighing the pros and cons of being labelled a pom pom.

Pinky is still folded in Terence's pocket.

Terence is not allowed to answer.

Humboldt has almost cracked it.

Gaius is an old Roman. It will be something to do with...

But Gaius has decided that since no one knows the answer, he will reveal it.

Using the Roman numerals XIX, says Gaius, take away one, leaving XX, which is twenty.

I KNEW that, says Terence.

Moist Is Her Eye

You're awake, says Gaius. Good. Get out of the plum box.

The snakes slither out.

Ageless moves forward with the pasta wheels, and starts to tinker.

We must go hunting, says the old bandy bandy.

As long as it's humid, says the new one.

A few questions first, says Gaius. Now where is my pencil?

There are two in our plum box, says the new bandy bandy.

Those are axles, says Gaius. They must stay.

What are the questions? asks the old bandy bandy.

How do you feel about moving? asks Gaius.

Reluctant. I don't trust those pasta wheels, says the old one.

Which snake are you? asks Gaius.

The common one, says the old one.

You needn't move, says Gaius. Only your companion, the vermicella parscauda.

Why do I have to move? asks the vermicella parscauda. I don't trust the pasta wheels either.

Fear not, says Gaius. The pasta wheels are for Kobo and Pinky, whom Ageless is assisting to fulfil their dream of fast travel.

Good luck to them, says the vermicella parscauda. Next question!

Wait, says Gaius. You will be moving. It's merely a question of where.

Nanum, says the vermicella parscauda. I hear it's nice there.

This is Nanum, says the old common bandy bandy. And you're welcome.

Not an option, says Gaius Your two species are geographically distant. And should remain so.

Why are you in charge? asks the old one. Third question!

Why do you cross roads on humid nights? asks Gaius, desperate to get at least one informative answer.

That's a riddle, right? says the old one.

I like riddles, says the vermicella parscauda. Moist is her eye. That's my favourite.

That's not a riddle, says the old one.

No, it's the last line. That's how I remember it, says the vermicella parscauda. The answer's a needle.

Gaius gives up on finding a pencil.

Hitting A Nerve

Not well regarded! says Gaius. Then why have people donated money?

Arthur thought of it, says Sweezus. He reckons yeah, well, no one likes crocodiles and everyone thinks Croc shoes are ..... kind of nerdy.

Nerdy! says Gaius. I wear them. I find them ......

Practical and comfortable, says Sweezus. Yeah.... we know.

I'm surprised at Arthur, says Gaius.

Are you? asks Sweezus.

No, says Gaius. On second thoughts, the dear boy was just trying to raise money. And he has succeeded. Reliable as ever.

Yep, says Sweezus. So we've ordered, like, a couple of hundred pairs of green Crocs, different sizes. They'll be arriving in Weipa pretty soon.

A couple of hundred pairs! says Gaius. What are we to do with them?

Up to you, says Sweezus. Did the crocodile really want them?

I believe so, says Gaius. Just one crocodile. He asked for two pairs.

No worries, says Sweezus. The other crocs'll want them when they see how.... err...

How nerdy?

...practical and comfortable they are, says Sweezus.

Indeed, says Gaius. And the rest of the money? I assume this bulk purchase won't have cost fifteen thousand dollars.

That's ours, says Sweezus. It'll pay for our tickets and expenses, and the rest's for the snake moving project.

Is that ethical? asks Gaius.

Ethical? says Sweezus. Crowd funding doesn't have to be ethical. Just hit a nerve. Anyway, gotta go now. See ya.

A mystery! says Gaius.

What is? asks Humboldt.

Gaius explains:

It seems people have paid money to send shoes they laugh at to reptiles they fear.

Makes sense to me. And you thought it was comical, before, says Humboldt.

Did I? says Gaius. Yes I suppose I did. But now, it has snowballed.

And raised money, says Humboldt.

We may have to deliver them, says Gaius.

Sweezus and Arthur will do it. Stop fretting.

But Gaius can't stop fretting.

He leans forward and fingers his shoes. Nerdy are they?

So Humboldt goes out alone, to dig up some blind snakes.

Ageless, who has also been fretting, now takes advantage.

He sidles up to  the plum box, and pulls on the tails of the snakes.

Pss-Hss! Is it night time?

Ageless withdraws, saying nothing.

Gaius notices the snakes are wriggling, and asking questions.

Good. It's time something happened.

What You Don't Have

A beautiful bird, sighs Pinky, when the comb crested jacana has gone.

You should get married, says Terence.

Pinky turns pinker.

Nonsense, says Kobo. They are like brother and sister.

SHE didn't come out of a pale brown egg, says Terence.

No she didn't, says Kobo. But they have similar features.

Yes, says Pinky. He has a red comb and I have a pink comb.

I know what you don't have, says Terence.

Kobo changes the subject before Terence can say it.

Shall we go back to the cabin and see how the plum box is progressing?

Yes let's, says Pinky. How will we get there?

In the sauce bottle, says Terence.

I'm never getting in a sauce bottle again, says Pinky.

Nor am I, says Kobo. Terence, do you have pockets?

Terence doesn't know. He looks down at his snake shorts.

Yes! he has pockets!

Maybe his lost things are in them.

His magic bracelet!

He feels in the pockets.

Nothing but a few puffs of cotton fluff, the sort that builds up in pockets.

I have got pockets, says Terence. But they are disappointing.

That's because they are empty, says Kobo. What if they were full? I shall go in one and Pinky in the other, and you shall carry us back to the cabin.

There's fluff in the bottom, says Terence.

All the better, says Kobo.

........

Back at the cabin, Gaius idly watches the snakes.

Their tails pulsate softly.

Anything doing? asks Humboldt.

Not yet, says Gaius.

Humboldt scratches his earlobe and looks at the clock.

What's the plan? asks Humboldt.

When they wake up we'll examine them properly, says Gaius. Note their differences. Take some more snaps. Inform them of the crowd funding enterprise. Get their suggestions.

Have you considered that they might be hungry? asks Humboldt.

Good thinking, says Gaius. They eat blind worms. We should go out and gather a few.

We should, says Humboldt.

The phone rings. It's Sweezus.

Hey Gaius! We're all good to go!

What? Good to go where? asks Gaius.

Back to Oz, says Sweezus. The crowdfunding's going gangbusters. We've already got fifteen thousand.

Miraculous! says Gaius. Who'd have thought people would give so much money to move a few snakes they've never heard of?

Yeah, well, says Sweezus. That one didn't go so great. Only raised a few hundred. The money's for our other one.

Other one? What other one?

Don't freak, says Sweezus. It's kind of nuts, but it's Green Crocs For Crocs. Like Terence promised.

You mean people have donated money to buy Crocs for the crocodile Terence granted green Crocs to, croaks Gaius.

Yup, says Sweezus. And all the other crocs in the top end.

I had no idea crocodiles were so well regarded, says Gaius.

That's just it, says Sweezus. They're not.

I Was A Clam Once

The sun on their faces. Air milky.

They unpack their lives.

Kobo goes first, because she is the oldest.

I was a clam once. A young bouncing clam.

I didn't know that! says Pinky. So you were softer. Do you remember?

I remember, says Kobo.

Terence, you go next.

I used to live in a palace, says Terence. I fell off the front door. And guess who caught me?

The doorman, says the comb crested jacana.

Good guess, says Kobo. Have you travelled at all?

Here and there, says the comb crested jacana.

Not the doorman! says Terence.

My turn, says Pinky. My life has been short and interrupted.

Yes, says Terence. She was my pink thing. I got her in an aeroplane. For my magic bracelet. No, my magic crown.

What happened? asks the comb crested jacana.

I lost it, says Terence.

Not that, says the comb crested jacana. What happened to Pinky?

I've been let down, says Pinky. So many times! But it has taught me to be optimistic.

That is admirable, says the comb crested jacana.

She had snakes inside her, says Terence. Two snakes. See my shorts? Snakes like these. And you still haven't guessed the person who caught me.

Your mother, says Pinky.

Not the Virgin, says Terence. It was Sweezus.

Is he someone I should know? asks the comb crested jacana.

Not really, says Kobo. Unless you follow the Tour de France. Tell us your own life story.

You lived in a pale brown EGG! says Terence.

I did, says the comb crested jacana. Full marks for knowing.

And minus ten for interrupting, says Kobo.

I know all about birds, says Terence. I have a bird book and you're in it. You eat molluscs.

I eat seeds and aquatic insects, says the comb crested jacana.

Oh, says Terence. My bird book is wrong.

I think you'll find that shorebirds eat molluscs, says the comb crested jacana. I am a waterbird whose habitat is fresh water. And I ought to be going. I'm famished.

What a shame, says Kobo. None of us have finished our stories.

Finish yours, says the comb crested jacana.

Over time I transformed from a dead clam to a fossil. I began to read Japanese novels, says Kobo.

Until you met me, says Pinky.

Nice. Now finish yours, says the comb crested jacana.

Tonight, says Pinky, we will ride in a plum box with wheels made by Ageless lobster, Kobo's former beloved.

And me, says Terence.

This time I'll stay awake for it, says Pinky.

I might come back to see that, says the comb crested jacana. What time approximately?

Ooh-a, says Pinky. What time, sweetheart?

When the snakes wake up, says Terence.

I wasn't calling you sweetheart, says Pinky.

I know you meant me, dear, says Kobo. Terence is right though. When the bandy bandies wake up.

Bandies? says the comb crested jacana. Okay. I'll be back at six thirty.

Inert And Deflated

Brad has returned with the sauce bottle and its two passengers.

How was that, girls?

Kobo is moaning.

Why are you moaning? asks Terence.

It was supposed to be a delight for the two of us, says Kobo. But Pinky missed it.

No, she didn't, says Terence. She's here.

Inert and deflated, says Kobo.

Let's see, says Brad.

He pulls Pinky off the end off the bottle.

Kobo is right.

Ask her what she thought of it, says Kobo. I guarantee there won't be an answer.

Terence sees what the problem is. There is no air in Pinky.

It's the bird's fault! The comb crested jacana.

Bad luck, says Brad. I'll blow her up again and fix her with wonga vine, but then I have to get going.

He blows Pinky up. Ties her off.

When are we starting? asks Pinky. What a beautiful day!

Brad has to go, darling, says Kobo. We're not starting.

You already went, says Terence. But my bird had a really bad idea.

Your bird! says the comb crested jacana.

Parrot, says Terence. Don't worry, I don't even want you.

Who is this? asks Pinky. What a glorious red crested creature!

Thank you, says the comb crested jacana. I also walk on water.

You don't say? says Pinky. Would it be rude to ask you to show us?

Rude, no, says the comb crested jacana. But I walk on fresh water, not the sea.

What lovely long toes you have, says Pinky.

You are quite lovely yourself, says the comb crested jacana. Your four rose pink rubber fingers and your whimbrel beak drawn on sideways could be the work of Picasso.

O Pinky, says Kobo. Did you hear that?

It's thrilling, says Pinky.

Well, I'm off, says Brad. Want a lift back to the cabin?

No thank you, says Kobo. We'll stay a bit longer.

Will we? says Terence. What for?

To feel the sun on our faces, says Kobo. To breathe the milky air. To speak of art with our new bird friend who can walk on water. To unpack our lives.

I was just passing through, says the comb crested jacana. But I suppose I can spare fifteen minutes.

One Chance

The beach, south of Rocky Point.

Brad has given Terence a length of the wonga vine he always keeps in his pocket.

And the sauce bottle, which is now clean.

Terence has wrapped the wonga vine around the neck of the sauce bottle.

He places it on the sand.

Now get on, says Terence.

We can't, says Pinky. You'll have to arrange us. That's what Brad means by logistics.

Okay, says Terence.

He lifts Kobo on first. She rolls off.

I knew it, says Kobo.

Wait, says Terence. I know! Pinky goes first.

He drapes Pinky over the bottle.

I can't see! says Pinky.

You guys aren't helping, says Terence.

He gives up.

I'm going bird spotting.

You go then, says Brad. I'll do it. That was your chance.

Terence plods off, thinking.

Stupid Brad. He said THAT WAS YOUR CHANCE, just like Saint Joseph. Saint Joseph was mean. He gave you ONE CHANCE then he whacked you. But Brad didn't whack him.

Terence spots a bird, with a red part.

It doesn't fly away.

What were you doing? asks the bird with the red part.

NOTHING! says Terence.

I saw, says the bird with the red part. You were trying to balance a stone and a pink rubber glove on a sauce bottle. You gave up too quickly.

It was my ONE CHANCE, says Terence.

If I had one chance, says the bird with the red part, I would have stretched the rubber glove over the sauce bottle and tucked the stone inside.

You don't know them, says Terence.

That's why I can see the big picture, says the bird with the red part.

Come back with me, says Terence. You can tell them.

The bird agrees to come back with Terence.

Back again? says Brad. With a comb crested jacana! Don't see them too often.

The bird ignores him.

We have an idea, says Terence.

So've I, says Brad. I break the sauce bottle. And sit them in it. Only... the broken glass might tear Pinky.

I'm open to better suggestions, says Pinky.

Would you submit to a painless operation? asks the comb crested jacana.

What is it?

Stretch you over the bottle with your companion tucked under

I like it, says Kobo.

O but darling......says Pinky.

Too late. Terence has let the air out of Pinky, at the bottom. and stretched her over the wide end of the bottle.

He has tucked Kobo in.

I can't see much, says Kobo, But I'm hopeful of feeling the freedom of movement and smelling the  balmy sea breezes and I suppose this is as good at it gets for a fossilised clam.

Ready, says Brad.

He starts walking, dragging the sauce bottle by the end of the wonga vine, slowly at first, then faster until he is running.

He runs for five minutes, then turns and runs back.

They're coming back, says Terence. Do you think they would have liked the big picture?

One might have, says the comb crested jacana. But I fear for the other.

Never Before Such Great Faith

The wheel spins.

Look! says Terence. It's working!

That's the snake's tail, says Ageless. The wheel has to go on a pencil.

Bumhole! says Terence. That's no good then.

He pulls off the wheel and tries again with a pencil.

No need to hurry, says Pinky. We're going with Brad after lunch, on the sauce bottle.

IN the sauce bottle, I was thinking, says Brad.

No, no, says Kobo. How will the wind blow our hair?

I wasn't factoring that in, says Brad. For obvious reasons.

You mean neither of us has hair, says Kobo. That is irrelevant.

Yes, says Ageless. Irrelevant. They are both flesh and blood beauties.

Not exactly, says Kobo.

Allow me my fantasies, says Ageless.

Allow us ours, says Kobo.

I get it, says Brad. Sure, you girls can ride on the sauce bottle.

Lunch is ready, says Humboldt, who has cooked it.

The eaters sit down to eat it.

This is excellent, says Gaius. Well done the Italians for inventing a pasta shape which holds so much sauce in.

Actually, says Brad, it was the Chinese.

In that case, well done the Chinese, says Gaius, wiping his chin with his hanky.

Makes you wonder, says Humboldt.

Wonder what? asks Brad.

What they did with the cut out bits, says Humboldt. They don't waste anything, the Chinese.

Gaius grabs the nearest pencil.

That's a pixel! cries Terence.

Gaius is sorry. There were other pencils available. He ought not to have .....and so on.

I'll just use it, then put it back. says Gaius.

He draws a pasta wheel on a sheet from his notebook. Then he draws the cut out bits.

Several miniscule truncated segments, and one tiny circle.

What might they be used for?

Additions to soup, perhaps, suggests Humboldt.

Or they roll it out again and make noodles, says Brad.

He gets up to rinse out the sauce bottle.

How will we actually arrange ourselves on it? asks Pinky.

Mm, how? says Kobo. I'm totally rigid, and round on the bottom.

And I'm the opposite, says Pinky.

Fish glue? asks Gaius.

NO! cry Pinky and Kobo together.

That would spoil the aesthetic.

Wonga vine, says Brad. Our mob use it for everything.

Can I come? asks Terence. I need a break from these pixels.

Yes, says Brad. You can figure out the logistics.

Wow-yippee!

Terence has never before had such great faith put in him.

Waiting Song

Brad knocks on the door of the cabin.

Humboldt opens.

Ageless enters backwards, dragging a packet of pasta.

I found them! says Terence.

What? says Humboldt, rubbing his eyes.

Wheels! says Terence. And we've got hundreds!

Too many! says Ageless. But they wouldn't split the packet.

So we bought sauce as well, says Brad.

He hands Humboldt a bottle of sauce.

Very kind, says Humboldt. That will go nicely after all the apples we've eaten. How much do I owe you?

Five dollars'll do it, says Brad. Can I come in and see Pinky?

Certainly, says Humboldt. Come in. Perhaps you'd like to stay for lunch. We'll be having the pasta.

No! cries Terence. Those are our wheels.

Himmel! says Humboldt, looking closely at the pasta. How do they make pasta that shape?

Dunno, says Brad. They probably stamp it, before it hardens.

Imagine! says Humboldt.

He and Brad imagine, while Terence tries to open the packet.

He pulls at the top.

Nothing happens.

He places it on the floor, and sits on it, hard.

Foof! It explodes. Wheels roll about on the lino.

What's happening! says Gaius, who has been dozing.

Brad's brought lunch, says Humboldt.

Not lunch, wheels, says Terence. Wah! Some of them are broken!

Pick them up, says Gaius. We'll sort them into broken and whole ones.

I need four whole ones, says Terence. For my idea.

Brad spies Pinky.

Hello. How are you doing?

O you know, says Pinky. The day is long. We're waiting for night time. We shouldn't have to but we have to because the snakes are asleep in the plum box.

Why night time? asks Brad.

Kobo and I need the plum box, says Pinky. Ageless is making it into a car. Terence is helping. So far it's only got pencil axles and two extra holes the snakes' tails are hanging out of.

I see, says Brad. What's the car for?

Rolling along the beach, says Pinky. Like two ladies, painted by Picasso.

Don't know that one, says Brad. Was it day time or night time?

Day time, says Kobo.

Tell you what, says Brad. After lunch I'll give you a trial run in the sauce bottle.

Would you? asks Kobo. We would LOVE that.

Sure, says Brad.

Humboldt boils some water for the pasta, which Terence has sorted, reserving four of the best wheels with holes in.

While the pasta is cooking, Pinky sings a waiting song.

The day is long
But not so long
If something happens
After lunch.

How true, says Gaius. Terence! What are you doing?

Nothing, says Terence.

Nothing which is:

Carefully pressing the pasta wheels onto the ends of the pencils sticking out from the plum box.

But oops!

That wasn't a pencil!

The One That Is One And The One That's Not One

Are we there yet? asks Terence.

Not yet, says Ageless.

They trudge on a bit further.

Are we there YET? asks Terence.

They stop.

NO! says Ageless.

A passing van stops. Brad looks out.

Hi there? Need a lift into town?

Yes! says Terence. We're going to Woolworths.

Me too, says Brad. It's not far. Hop in.

Thank you, says Ageless, on his best manners.

No worries, says Brad. Did your ...um... guys find one of those new bandy bandies?

Yes, says Ageless. Our team has now found a live one and a dead one.

Lucky team, says Brad.

And one that's not one, says Terence. And the one that IS one and the one that's NOT one, but not the dead one, need three more wheels.

So I guess you've got one wheel already, says Brad.

A jam jar lid, says Ageless. But as we've ruined it, we might go to a different type of wheel altogether.

Don't mind me asking, says Brad, but why do bandies need wheels in the first place?

For their bed, says Terence. When they wake up.

No way! says Brad. When they wake up they'll go hunting.

But then, says Terence, Kobo and Pinky get in.

Pinky! says Brad. How's she doing after being buried under a nonda ?

No different, says Ageless. Still cocky.

How big's the bed? asks Brad.

It's a plum box, says Ageless.

It's already got two pixels, says Terence.

Cool, says Brad. Two pixels. Well, here's the Woolies.

They go in together.

Brad wants to see what they buy.

Terence runs off to look at the watermelons and tomatoes.

Ageless says: I could do with some help here.

Ask her, says Brad. Hey, Thekla!

Thekla comes over.

Wheels, says Brad. About... jam lid size.

Jam's in aisle three, says Thekla.

Actually, says Ageless, have you got any with holes in the middle?

We don't stock anything with holes in, says Thekla. This is Woolies.

Grr. It's so difficult, shopping.

Terence runs back with a packet of pasta.

Found some! A lady helped me!

Thekla looks at the pasta.

I could've told you where THAT was.

Everyone looks at the pasta.

San Remo Pasta Wagon Wheels.

Perfetto! Little wheels in abundance!

Tampering With Jam

Pinky has been observing.

She nudges Kobo.

I think we should intervene, Kobo dear.

Mmm, what, why? asks Kobo. I was miles away.

I know, says Pinky. You were imagining this evening, everything going smoothly. Well I'm sorry to say things are not going smoothly.

With the plum box conversion? says Kobo, alert now.

Yes, Terence has tipped out the snakes prematurely, and made holes in the plum box for pencils.

How many holes? asks Kobo.

Six, says Pinky. The first four were not lined up properly.

I might have known, says Kobo. And the pencils won't function as wheels. Which ought to have been obvious.

Yes dear, says Pinky. But the snakes suggested they might be useful as axles.

Good for the snakes, says Kobo. Were I rudely awakened, I wouldn't have made any useful suggestions.

Nor would I, says Pinky. But that's not the worst thing.

No wheels for the axles, says Kobo.

One wheel, says Pinky. The lid of a jam jar.

Talk me through it, says Kobo. One lid of one jam jar. Are they making a hole in it?

That's the worst part, says Pinky. They are. But it's not in the middle.

Why not? asks Kobo. There's usually a small indentation marking the middle.

Is there? asks Pinky. What's that for?

Security reasons, says Kobo. If it's raised, someone may have tampered with the jam.

That's something I would not have suspected, says Pinky. I do LOVE knowing you!

I love knowing you, too, says Kobo. But continue.

Ageless found Gaius's Swiss army knife, says Pinky. It has a can opening device, but it's awfully primitive. And it made a triangular hole, nowhere near the centre.

Let me try and picture it, says Kobo. One wheel, and wonky.

That's it in a nutshell, says Pinky. Shall we intervene?

Yes, says Kobo. AGELESS!

My beloved! cries Ageless. Don't look yet!

Too late, says Kobo. I have looked, and found your efforts wanting.

It's not finished, says Terence. We need three more wheels. We've only got this one

You should have thought of that before, says Kobo. Where will you get them?

Woolworths, says Ageless. There's one down the road.

Oh really? says Kobo. Will you buy three more jam jars?

I'll look around, says Ageless.

Can I come? asks Terence.

Yes, says Ageless. Bring the apple bag.

.....

Pinky speaks to the snakes.

So sorry about this. Your sleeping box is ruined. We had not intended....

Ftt! says the old one. We have slept in worse places. It is cramped though.

Yes! With two hard pencil struts straight through the middle! hisses the new one.

Oh dear, says Pinky. Can you see my expression?

The new one sees her for the first time.

Is that HER?

Yes, that's Pinky Rose Comb. Look at her expression.

It's one of her most sympathetic expressions.

Her whimbrel beak is prettily turned down at the corners. Her pink rose comb quivers. Her complexion deepens.

But best of all is her suggestion:

Make use of the two extra holes in the plum box. Poke your tails through, as far as they'll go. You'll be surprised how much more room it gives you.

So she is wise, as well as compassionate.

And beautiful, with that beak drawn on sideways.

They follow her advice.

One Good Four Better

The bandy bandies watch Terence poke four holes in their box.

He pokes the holes with one of the pencils, breaking the lead.

Two holes on one side and two on the other, close to the bottom, and not well aligned.

Try again, says Ageless. I can see where you're going. But you should use a ruler.

Okay, says Terence. Get me a ruler.

There is no ruler in the cabin. Ageless fetches a spoon.

Spoons are not renowned for their straightness.

It's bendy, says Terence.

Compensate, says Ageless. Check the angle.

The bandy bandies are becoming concerned.

It's our bed, remember!

Wait, says Terence. When the wheels are on, you'll LOVE it.

Okay, we'll wait.

Terence pokes two more holes, ruining another pencil.

That's better.

Yes, it is. Terence inserts the pencils.

Now you snakes, get back in.

The snakes can't believe it.

They're not wheels! They're not even touching the ground, says the new one.

It's not the ground, says Terence. It's the table.

And when we get in, says the old one, there'll be two pencils across the place where we lie.

It'll be uncomfortable, says the new bandy bandy. REALLY uncomfortable. How would you like it?

I would like it, says Terence. I'd curl up in the middle.

All irrelevant, growls Ageless, if my contraption won't go.

Push it, says Terence.

I could do that before, says Ageless. It's wheels that are lacking. Crik! Alas for my plans to seduce my beloved!

He sulks.

Excuse me, says the old bandy bandy. You could use the pencils as axles, and stick wheels on the ends, outside our sleeping arrangements.

Oh, great! says the new one. We still lie on pencils, or squeeze up tight in the middle, which I don't fancy.

Good idea! says Terence. We just need four wheels.

We just needed four wheels in the first place, grumbles Ageless.

Humboldt stirs in his sleep.

Look up, mumbles Humboldt.

Terence looks up. Sometimes good things just happen.

Someone has left a jam jar on a high shelf above the bench top.

The lid would be perfect.

(Even if four would be better).

A Bed With Pencil Wheels

Gaius's pencils are not under the snake.

Nor is the magic flow ring.

Terence rearranges the dead snake in the corner.

Maybe Sweezus meant one of the other snakes. The ones in the plum box.

Can I wake the snakes up? asks Terence.

No, says Gaius. They need to sleep. As do Humboldt and I, after staying up all night.

You go to sleep then, says Terence. I'll keep looking.

Humboldt and Gaius lie on their bunk beds with their clothes on, and soon fall asleep.

Gaius dreams of pencils. In the dream he knows where they are.

Humboldt dreams of Mount Chimborazo, and Pauline, the climber he met there. He has promised her something. But what was it? In the dream Pauline is saying (in Spanish) Look up!

Terence stares at the plum box. He is certain the pencils are in it, and his magic flow ring. Sweezus would not get it wrong.

Wait, no, he did get it wrong but if the lost things are in the plum box then not THAT wrong, just wrong about which snake they were under....

Ageless too is eyeing the plum box.

He sizes it up.

He has promised to make it into some kind of movable contraption for his beloved and her cocky companion.

He means Pinky.

What he needs is a diagram. And a pencil. Gaius had pencils. Ageless skitters over to Gaius's back pack. It has many zippered compartments. He opens them all.

From one, drops a box of eleven hardly used pencils.

He takes one, and starts sketching a vehicle, on the grey lino floor.

A box, like the plum box. With wheels. The wheels are the problem.

So is the means of propulsion, but he might find some string.

Pencils! says Terence spotting the pencil box, which now contains ten hardly used pencils.

Is my magic bracelet in there?

Have a look, mutters Ageless.

Terence looks in the pencil box, and all the unzippered compartments. Apple cores mainly. And notes. No magic bracelet.

What are YOU doing? asks Terence.

Designing wheels for this box, says Ageless. For the women.

I know! says Terence. Give me two pencils!

Ageless can't see why not. He gives Terence two pencils.

Terence opens the plum box and pokes at the snakes.

Hey! says Ageless. Too late though. The bandy bandies are awake.

Get out for a minute, says Terence. Then you can get back in. You can have what you wished for.

The bandy bandies have no idea what they wished for.

A bed with pencil wheels, says Terence.

Well that sounds nice, anyway......

The Human Face Smiles

"Years I burrowed through deep soils of red massive earth with concretions
now the human face smiles as I perish
my head smashed in the rubble
of a heterogeneous material
relatively rich in aluminium."

Arthur shows it to Sweezus.

That's cool, says Sweezus. How'd you know that?

Just guessing, says Arthur. From the looks on their faces.

Sweezus looks again at the photo.

You sure one snake's dead?

No, says Arthur. Why don't you call Gaius. Ask him.

Okay, says Sweezus.

He calls Gaius.

Hey Gaius. How's things going in Weipa?

Why is it that I always misplace my pencils, says Gaius.

Dunno, says Sweezus. About the snakes. Which one's the dead one?

The one on the floor in the corner, says Gaius. It's not in the snap.

Brill, says Sweezus. I thought the ones in the photo were live ones. How's Terence doing?

Wonderful, says Gaius. In fact he's been quite helpful. I'll put him on.

Terence: Who is it?

Sweezus: Me.

Terence: Yay! Guess what? We stayed up all night, because the snakes only wake up at night. I'm the king of them. And I grant things. There was this crocodile in the river and it wanted green shoes. I granted them. And now we're waiting for the snakes to wake up so that we can have the plum box they sleep in and make it into a car so that Kobo and Pinky can run on the beach with their clothes off. Ageless is making it.

Sweezus: A car. Good one, little buddy.

Terence: And I had a magic flow ring, but I lost it.

Sweezus: It might be with Gaius's pencils, under the snake.

Terence: The dead one?

Sweezus: Probably. The one in the corner.

Terence: You know everything.

Sweezus: Not everything. How long is it?

Terence: This long.

Sweezus. Can't see you.

Terence: Guess what? Gaius told me where the snake's tail starts.

Sweezus: No kidding? Where does its tail start? It's all tail.

Terence: NO IT ISN'T! 

Sweezus: So I don't know everything. What's the answer?

Terence: At the BUMHOLE!

Sweezus: He didn't say that.

Terence: No, he said......the clacker.

Sweezus: The cloaca. Yeah that makes sense. Useful info, little buddy.

Terence: Bye. I'm going to find all the lost things now.

Sweezus: Adiós niñito!

Terence doesn't answer. He's already lifting the dead snake in the corner.

He is about to realise that Sweezus is fallible.

Unpredictable In Spain

Back in the cabin, Gaius and Humboldt eat apples.

Gaius looks for his pencils. He can't find them.

I'll look, says Humboldt. You do the other things.

Yes, all right, says Gaius. What time is it in Spain?

Will it matter? asks Humboldt. As I recall, Arthur is unpredictable. Just try calling.

Good advice, says Gaius. Terence, put that dead snake in the corner.

Terence arranges the dead snake in the corner. Coiled up like a magic bracelet.

This reminds him of his lost magic bracelet.

He follows Humboldt around the cabin, hoping it will pop up and surprise him.

Boing!!

That wasn't it. That was Terence imagining it happening.

Gaius calls Arthur, in Spain.

Arthur answers, because he is bored.

Gaius: Arthur! Is that you Arthur?

Arthur: Yes, it's me. Found any snakes yet?

Gaius: We have indeed. Everyone has been most helpful in Weipa. We currently have three. Two are the new species, vermicella parscauda. One dead and one living. The live one is asleep in a plum box with its cousin.

Arthur: That's the dead one?

Gaius: No, the dead one is coiled up in a corner.

Arthur: Sounds good. Um.....is it January already?

Gaius: Of course not. It's October.

Arthur: Good. So, is there something....?

Gaius: Yes. I shall send you a photograph shortly. I want you to show it to Sweezus. Put your heads together and come up with a crowd funding pitch. We need money for a translocation.

Arthur: Okay.

Gaius: Hm. Well, I'll send you the photo now. It's a good one. Terence is in it.

He ends the call and sends the photo.

Arthur gets it, and laughs. He shows it to Sweezus.

Diablo! says Sweezus, who is trying to learn Spanish. What's going on in this picture?

Terence is smiling, says Arthur.

The freakin' snakes! says Sweezus.

One's a dead one, says Arthur.

In that case they're both dead ones, says Sweezus. Their eyes are open.

You can be dead with your eyes open, says Arthur. Maybe one is and one isn't.

True, says Sweezus. Why'd Gaius send it? Does he think we're missing Terence?

No, says Arthur. He wants us to get up a crowd-funder, with Terence as the human element.

Yeah, says Sweezus. I'd give money to that face.

If you had any, says Arthur.

If I had any, says Sweezus. What's the money for?

A translocation, says Arthur. Same as with the Ecuadorian frogs.

Yeah, like that worked, says Sweezus.

Doesn't matter, says Arthur. It's money. And we're bored, yes?

Sweezus supposes he's right.

Okay. They have the photo. They are both creative. Arthur will come up with a poem. Sweezus will write something persuasive.

They finish their fourth bottle of txakoli, their salted anchovies, and white tuna in oil, and get out their pencils.

By which we know they are still in San Sebastian, and still have their pencils.

Daylight Pleasures

Question one, says Gaius.

No! says Terence.

Not for you, says Gaius. For Kobo and Pinky.

Is it maths? asks Terence. I bet they can't do it.

It's not maths, says Gaius. Be quiet, Terence.

Get on with it, says Humboldt. We're all ears.

I'm not, says Kobo. Nor is Pinky.

Gaius ignores this and proceeds with his question which is:

Do you ladies have any objection to running at night?

It's not what I imagined, says Kobo.

No, it's not what we imagined, says Pinky.

What did you imagine? asks Gaius.

A blue sky, says Pinky. A blue ocean, white sand. We hold hands and run together over the sand. The wind blows our hair back. We're joyful.

Yes, says Kobo. We are both heavy and light. Of the earth and above it. We hold hands. Her four fingers are enclosed in my raised hand. We wear white garments that fall off at one shoulder partly revealing our breasts.

There must be daylight! croaks Ageless. He would not like to miss this due to poor lighting.

I see, says Gaius.

It's all in their heads, says Humboldt. They don't have true hands. They don't have hair. They don't wear white garments for breasts to fall out of. Or breasts.

All right, says Gaius. No need to be brutal.

I'm just saying, says Humboldt. It could easily take place at night.

It could, says Kobo. But that would mean waiting.

No matter, says Gaius. We'll go back to our cabin. I have several tasks to complete. One: find my pencils. Two: contact Arthur. Three: examine the dead bandy bandy.

So we're bringing it, says Humboldt.

Yes, I'll leave that task to Ageless, says Gaius. Come on, let's go back to the cabin for a hearty breakfast of apples and water.

They get on their bikes. Terence is in Gaius's basket, with the plum box. Kobo and Pinky in Humboldt's.

Ageless is dragging the dead bandy bandy.

Stop! says Terence. Can I walk with Ageless?

I don't see why not, says Gaius. He stops to let set Terence down.

Terence walks beside Ageless.

Can I do it? asks Terence.

Do what? says Ageless.

Drag the snake, says Terence.

With pleasure, says Ageless.

He hands Terence the tail.

Terence drags the snake by the tail, behind him, making patterns.

Once in a while he turns round and walks backwards.

Some pleasures should not be deferred.

Drat Those Nocturnal Creatures

I was, says Ageless, from not far away.

He approaches.

Was WHAT? asks Terence.

Trying to please them, says Ageless. How was I to know the snake was defective?

Defective! cries Kobo. You exhausted it. You gave it the raw end of the circumference.

I think you have muddled your metaphor, dear one, says Pinky.

What? O yes! says Kobo. A circumference with a raw end. How funny. You see Ageless has upset my equilibrium.

Calm down, Kobo, says Gaius. Are you more upset because the snake died or because the wheel contraption failed, and with it your means of running over the sand with Pinky?

Kobo is silent. Good question. Which is it?

Humboldt examines the snake.

It's a vermicella parscauda, if I'm not mistaken, says Humboldt. What a loss to natural science.

I apologise, says Ageless. If I'd known, I'd have reinvented the wheel with the snake in the middle.

Ha ha! laughs Pinky. Imagine that. You on the outside.

Cracking open, says Terence. Your insides oozing out.

No matter, says Ageless. My life is over.

He glances sideways at Kobo. His life is over. How does his sweet cream puff like that?

Tch! says Gaius. No more talk of that sort. As for the snake, being dead is not the worst thing. Of the five vermicella parscaudas so far recorded, at least three have been dead ones.

That is all very well, says Humboldt, but not promising for the survival of the species.

Or mine, says Ageless.

Come here, Ageless, says Kobo.

He sidles over. Crik-crik,,,,,,,,is she melting towards him?

She whispers: Ageless, you toss pot. Get over yourself.

He whispers back: sweetness,,,,,crik-crik,,,,,i would rather,,,,,ach! get over your umbo and explore your private escutcheon,,,,ach!,,,,ach!,,,,i'm choked with emotion,,,,

She whispers: I know what you would rather, so.... find me a wheeled box, big enough for me and for Pinky, and some means of setting it in motion.

Ageless looks around.

There's the plum box, says Terence.

Excellent, says Ageless.

The bandy bandies are sleeping in it, says Terence.

Drat! says Ageless. These nocturnal creatures. Asleep in the day time. Wrecking the flow of the narrative.

Yes. My thoughts exactly.

Preceding His Death An Adventure

What has happened? asks Gaius.

They killed it! says Terence.

I'm not asking you, says Gaius. If there's one thing we can be sure of, it's that Kobo and Pinky have not killed it.

We are perfectly capable of killing a snake if we choose to, says Kobo.

Really? How? asks Humboldt.

Well, says Kobo. Pinky, being in the shape of a hand. Me, being a fossil.

Ooh! Yes! says Pinky. The snake approaches. But we don't panic. I stiffen my fingers. I wrap them around Kobo.

Mmm. Go on, says Kobo.

I grasp her firmly and then! says Pinky. I crash her down on the snake's head and smash it to pieces, but Kobo is not harmed in any way.

No I'm not not harmed, in fact I'm elated, says Kobo.

A fine tale, says Humboldt. But untrue.

Indeed, says Gaius. Terence, how do we know it's untrue?

We never said it was true, says Kobo.

That's how, says Terence.

The snake's head is not smashed to pieces, says Gaius. Something else happened. Where is Ageless?

Skulking, says Kobo. As he ought to. Some bad things have happened.

Bad things, says Pinky.

Well, on the bright side, we've had some luck, says Gaius. We have a vermicella parscauda, asleep in the plum box.

Shouldn't we be asking what bad things happened? asks Humboldt.

Gaius sighs. I suppose so. What happened, Kobo?

We wait on the concrete block by the glittering water, says Kobo. Ageless, Pinky and me. A snake approaches. We are half expecting it. It slithers to the edge and gazes out to sea. We ask it: What do you see? It replies: Preceding my death, an unlikely adventure. Crik crik, says Ageless, how about you and me steal a scooter for these girls? They haven't got legs and they want to run on the sand. The snake agrees. This may be the unlikely adventure. He and Ageless slope off, to look for a scooter. But they come back without one.

We're resigned to not going, says Pinky. But then Ageless says: Despair not ladies, this snake and I shall form a wheel contraption. Let me think it out. Give me a minute.

The snake is not looking happy, says Kobo. It may not like the idea. Ageless says: Make a loop and I'll go in the middle, supporting the girls in the centre. Pinky and I tremble. How will it go?

We didn't know, says Pinky. But it sounded scary.

We said we were scared, says Kobo. So they did a dry run. The snake made a loop and Ageless got in the middle. But flat to the ground, they didn't go anywhere. So they reformed it, in the vertical. Then the snake rolled away with Ageless in the middle.

This is fascinating behaviour, says Gaius.

It is indeed, says Humboldt. Ending in the death of the snake, as evidenced. How did that happen?

When finally they came back, the snake was in a bad way, says Kobo. It died of bumps and exhaustion. I blame Ageless entirely.

It sounds as though he was trying to please you, says Gaius.

A Dawn Sweet Like Peanuts

They leave the tinnies where they found them, and cycle back towards Weipa.

Dawn is breaking, as they go.

Terence is in Gaius's basket.

As a matter of interest, says Gaius, what did you agree to do for the crocodile?

Me? says Terence. YOU have to do it.

You were the one who said 'granted', says Gaius.

I always grant things, says Terence. Ask me for something.

The information I requested, says Gaius.

Granted, says Terence.

Well, what is it? asks Gaius.

Wait, says Terence. What was the question?

The crocodile, says Gaius. What did you, or we, promise?

Shoes, says Terence.

Ha ha! laughs Gaius. Crocodile shoes. Very funny.

Green ones like yours, says Terence.

You don't say, says Gaius. I must tell Humboldt.

He drops back to ride beside Humboldt.

It seems we've promised the crocodile a pair of green Crocs, says Gaius.

Two pairs, says Terence.

Ha ha! In different sizes, I suppose, laughs Humboldt. One for each crocodile foot. The front ones being smaller than the back ones.

YES! says Terence. That's what HE said!

This is concerning, says Gaius.  Did you make any delivery arrangements?

No, says Terence. Anyway, he'll have forgotten.

A crocodile may have a brain the size of a walnut, says Gaius, but he won't have forgotten.

Well, I've forgotten, says Terence. And I'm not coming back here. Only you are.

Because we ate wongai plums and you didn't? says Gaius. That's only a story.

The new bandy bandy has to come back, says Terence. He lives here.

Not any longer, says Gaius.

The new bandy bandy is asleep in the plum scented container, with the other one, his cousin.

They don't hear Gaius's answer. They are dreaming of Pinky.

.........

Pinky Rose Comb and Kobo are waiting for Gaius and Humboldt to come back.

They are not pleased with how the night went.

The concrete block on the wharf is cold and hard. They perch on separate corners.

The dawn sky is pretty, says Pinky. Shall I describe it?

Yes do, dear, says Kobo. Come closer. Mind the dead snake.

Pinky edges closer, mindful of the dead snake.

Pale blue with rosy tipped fingers, says Pinky.

How gorgeous, says Kobo.

Yellow streaks and white seabirds flying, says Pinky.

Ahhh, says Kobo. And how does it smell?

Sweet like peanuts, says Pinky.

There is shooshing of bike tyres, a scratching of brakes, the sound of Terence asking 'Are we there yet?', and Gaius replying:

Yes. Here's the concrete block. And there are Kobo and Pinky, waiting, and ....jumping Jupiter's  jimjams! What's that beside them? A dead snake!

A Piddling Enterprise

They approach the two tinnies.

Dawn is breaking. A crocodile tail stirs the water.

It's me, says the crocodile. I knew you'd be back.

We are indeed, says Gaius. Perhaps you'd consider assisting Terence back across the river.

No I wouldn't, says the crocodile.

In that case, says Gaius, Terence comes with me. Humboldt will take the second tinny.

See, says Terence. No one needs you. We can do everything.

Can you save the estuarine wetlands? asks the crocodile. I don't think so.

We're doing our bit, says Gaius. We've hatched a scheme for crowd-funding a translocation of the new bandy bandy.

A piddling enterprise, says the crocodile. We have multiple issues. Removal of vegetation, decline of the turtle population, invasive marine species, turbidity......

We do what we can, says Gaius. Have you any suggestions?

Yes, says the crocodile. I assume you'll be back here one day.

A strange assumption, says Gaius. On what basis?

I smell wongai plums, says the crocodile. 

That makes no sense at all, says Humboldt.

Anyone who has eaten wongai plums is destined to return to Cape York, says the crocodile. It's common knowledge.

I must write that down, says Gaius. I have an interest in common knowledge.

And since you're coming back says the crocodile, I have a proposal.

Let's hear it, says Gaius, searching for a pencil.

Don't laugh, says the crocodile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. It may be a foolish proposal.

Whisper it to me, says Terence. And I'll whisper it to Gaius.

I'll tow you over if, when you return, you bring me two pairs of green Crocs in different sizes, whispers the crocodile.

Granted, says Terence.

Very good, says Gaius. Whatever it was. Damn it, I can't find a pencil. Can we get going?

I'm getting a tow, says Terence. So you guys can go in the other tinny.

All right. You go first, we'll follow, says Gaius.

So this is what happens. The crocodile gives Terence a tow to the northern riverbank.

And then buggers off, neglecting to make delivery arrangements.

In It, Smiling

In the torchlight, they look at the photo.

Note the inter-nasal scales, says Gaius.

Indeed, says Humboldt.

Where? asks Terence.

Yes, wipe your nose at once, says Humboldt. Use my hanky.

Terence wipes his nose with the hanky.

But Humboldt is laughing at Terence.

It was a joke. The snakes have the nose scales.

Terence scowls. He knew he didn't have nose scales.

Let me see the photo, says the new bandy bandy.

Gaius shows him the photo.

Now you own my soul, says the new bandy bandy.

Nonsense, says Gaius. It's a very good photo. And I have an idea. How do you feel about being part of a translocation project?

Is there one? asks Humboldt.

Not yet, says Gaius. But we were successful in Ecuador with the Riobamban tree frogs.

Hm, yes, says Humboldt. At least, partly successful. Some of them became mutants.

Think positive, says Gaius. My idea is to use this photo to crowd-fund a project.

Yay! says Terence. And I'm in it, smiling.

Yes, says Gaius. People will relate to you smiling. And support the project.

Can we take it again? asks the new bandy bandy. I wasn't smiling.

Nor was I, says the other one.

You bandies shouldn't be smiling, says Gaius. You are the ones who are being crowd-funded.

Not me, says the other bandy bandy. I'm a vermicella annulata. I'm quite common.

Only me, says the new bandy bandy.

Take a new photo, says Terence. With him and me in it.

No need, says Gaius. This is the money shot. I'm sure Arthur will know how to spin it.

Arthur? says Humboldt.

Yes, Arthur, says Gaius. You surely didn't think I knew all the ins and outs of crowd-funding?

Of course not, says Humboldt. But I'm impressed with your knowledge of money shots and who should and shouldn't be smiling.

One either has a feel for these things or one doesn't, says Gaius.

Me too, says the new bandy bandy. Are you going soon? It's nearly my bedtime.

But we only just met, says the other bandy bandy. Come back with us to Weipa. You can sleep with me in my plum scented container. And meet Kobo and Pinky. I used to sleep inside Pinky, with my tail poking out from her finger. That hole's closed up now. But she is still a great beauty.

Wow! says the new bandy bandy. I love her. Okay I'll come.

Splendid! says Gaius.

They plod back to the tinnies.

Bumptious Infant

I smell wongai plums, says the new bandy bandy.

That will be me, says our one.

Don't tell me you eat them! says the new bandy bandy.

I travel in a wongai plum scented container, says our bandy bandy.

How fascinating, says Gaius. Hear that, Humboldt?

But we knew that, says Humboldt. It was Frances's container.

Not THAT, says Gaius. The two species of bandy bandy are conversing. Is that not remarkable?

In English, says Humboldt. A difficult language.

I taught them, says Terence. I was the teacher.

I learned in Weipa, says the new bandy bandy. I often go there. I sit on a concrete block and look at the sea.

Did you lose a brother? asks Terence. Did he float away on a piece of wet cardboard?

No, says the new bandy bandy. Not on a cardboard. But I have lost many brothers and sisters.

What on? asks Terence.

Not everyone floats off on a piece of cardboard, says Gaius. I assume our new friend refers to population loss due to diminishing habitat, because of the mining.

I do refer to it, says the new bandy bandy. But what can we do?

Move, says Terence. Next time you go to the concrete block, look for a box and get in it.

That seems risky, says the new bandy bandy.

It is risky, says Humboldt. Don't even consider it.

Risky, says Terence, if you follow the wrong pointing finger.

Don't confuse him, says Gaius.

I'm not confused, says the new bandy bandy. I'm resigned to my fate. We all are.

How a person masters his fate is more important than what his fate is, says Humboldt.

Assuming he masters it at all, says Gaius.

Obviously, says Humboldt.

What do you want from me? asks the new bandy bandy.

To kidnap you, says Terence.

To take a photo, says Gaius. One with our own bandy bandy would be nice. For comparison.

Can I be in it? asks Terence.

Yes, says Gaius. Hold them both up, heads together. Ask them first.

Ask them what? asks Terence.

If they will let you, says Humboldt. You really are bumptious.

He said bum-tious! says Terence.

Nothing wrong with bumptious, says Gaius.

I'll remember that, says Terence.

He grabs the two bandy bandies and holds them up for a photo.

It's dark in the mangroves.

Not much moonlight filters through.

So Humboldt shines the torch on the bandies and Terence's face in the middle.

Flash! Whirr-click.

Good one!

A grinning infant, two gasping snakes.

Eat Worms With Me

Are we there yet? asks the bandy bandy.

Don't say that! says Terence.

YOU always say it, says the bandy bandy.

I'm not saying it now, says Terence. I'm the leader.

That's why I said it, says the bandy bandy.

Terence tries to remember what leaders say when the team is not there yet.

Are we there yet? repeats the bandy bandy.

Yes, says Terence. We might be.

Why? asks the bandy bandy.

You're such a BABY! says Terence. Because there's a LOG. Turn it over.

How can I? asks the bandy bandy. No arms.

Ha! says Terence. Then how come you live under them?

We burrow, says the bandy bandy.

Burrow, then, says Terence. I'll sit here and think about my loved ones.

Hoo hoo, says the bandy bandy. Your loved ones. The crocodile probably ate them by now.

Yes! says Terence. That's what I'll be thinking.

He sits on the log. The bandy bandy starts burrowing.

Burrow burrow.

Then....would you believe it?

Hello, cousin, says a new bandy bandy with slightly different markings.

 Cousin! I can hardly believe it! says our bandy bandy.

Come in, cousin, says the new one. Eat some blind worms with me.

Can't, says our bandy bandy. I'm basically a servant. See that infant?

He looks sad, says the new bandy bandy.

Don't be fooled, says our bandy bandy. He's not sad.

It's true Terence isn't. He is only trying out the the face of someone coming to terms with the loss of his loved ones.

Watch this! says our bandy bandy. Hey, Terence. I found one!

Wait! I'm not ready to meet him! says the new bandy bandy.

Too late, says our one.

Terence looks at the new bandy bandy.

Is it different? It doesn't look different. Not to Terence.

He hears tramping.

Gaius and Humboldt have stumbled upon his location, having followed his plod marks.

What have we here? says Gaius. O what luck! A vermicella parscauda!

Is it? says Terence. What are you doing here? I thought the crocodile ate you.

No, says Gaius. He just wanted a look at my Crocs. Crocs. A crocodile. Oh, ha ha!

It's only now that it strikes him as funny.

Evocative Shoe

Terence has landed on the southern bank of the Embley, thanks to the crocodile.

All it took was a flick of his tail. Waves were generated.

Lap lap.

The crocodile turns his attention to other objects.

Terence climbs out of the tinny. The bandy bandy follows. They plod through the mangroves.

Stop! says the bandy bandy (after the shortest number of plods ever).

I can't do it!

Terence picks him up. Drapes him over his shoulders.

You keep a look out, says Terence.

The bandy bandy keeps a lookout.

Mangroves. Climbing swamp fern. Beak-rush. Swamp box.

He is bored. He is hungry.

He only ate half a blind worm. The smallest half. And how long ago!

He hoops and twists on Terence's shoulder.

Don't look out BACKWARDS! says Terence.

You'll be glad, says the bandy bandy.

Why? asks Terence.

I see Gaius and Humboldt, in a tinny.

I'm not glad, says Terence. This is just me and you. Me mainly.

You'll be glad because the crocodile is behind them, says the bandy bandy.

No way, says Terence. I'm not glad my friends might be eaten by a crocodile. I love them.

Shall we go back? asks the bandy bandy.

Not yet, says Terence. But remember I said I'm not glad.

Okay, says the bandy bandy. Want to know something else?

What? says Terence.

If we see a rock or a log, we should look under it, says the bandy bandy

You'd make a good parrot, says Terence.

They keep going.

Meanwhile back on the river the crocodile has nosed up to the tinny in which Gaius and Humboldt are travelling.

Croc alert! say Humboldt.

I feared as much, says Gaius.

The croc nudges the tinny.

Gaius looks over the side.

Let's not have any trouble, says Gaius.

That's not why I'm here, says the crocodile.

I wouldn't trust him, says Humboldt.

May I see your footwear? asks the crocodile.

A strange request, says Gaius. Mine? Or that of both of us?

Yours, if your name is Gaius. says the crocodile. 

Gaius leans back in the tinny and raises a foot, high enough to be visible to the crocodile but not overhanging the water. That would be foolish.

That a CROC? asks the crocodile.

It is, says Gaius.

What's it made of? asks the crocodile.

A type of foam resin, says Gaius. Ethylene-vinyl-acetate. EVA.

EVA, says the crocodile. That's evocative.

He floats away dreamily. EVA.

He hasn't asked what they feel like to wear.

He's sure they'd be comfy.