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.