Arthur has followed Sweezus inside.
Arthur, says Gaius. Good! I have tasks for you. But first, sit down. Have some breakfast.
What's for breakfast? asks Sweezus.
Excellent question. What is there? asks Gaius.
Apples, says Humboldt. We should finish them off.
Do I look like a GHOST? asks Terence, pressing bits of wet tissue back onto his legs, shorts and tee shirt.
More like a mummy, says Humboldt.
Or a zombie, says Arthur, biting into an apple.
Ha ha, laughs Roderick Coconut.
This is Roderick Coconut, says Gaius. He's an elder. He works for Land Management and Rehabilitation, at Rio Tinto.
No kidding? says Sweezus.
Yeah, says Roderick Coconut. It's a good job. Replanting. I can get you some plums.
Great, says Sweezus. Apples and plums.
Too much fibre? asks Gaius.
No, says Sweezus. We could do with a detox.
Arthur raises an eyebrow. He could not do with a detox. And what are these tasks Gaius mentioned?
He picks at the wet tissue on the table.
DON'T! cries Terence. It's not dry yet!
Arthur peels it all off, in one piece. It carries the faint outline of Terence's drawing.
What's this? asks Sweezus, seeing the drawing beneath.
It's about to be permanently removed, says Gaius. With a sander.
Okay, says Roderick Coconut. It's your decision.
He plugs in his sander, and starts sanding.
There goes my picture! says Terence.
What was it of? asks Sweezus.
Us, says Kobo. Running on a beach.
Who's us? asks Sweezus.
Pinky raises four rubber fingers,
Right. A pink rubber glove with a bird's beak, drawn on sideways.
Another of Terence's artworks.
Arthur doesn't know what to do with the peeled-off wet tissue he's holding.
He could put it down, but there's not too much space in the cabin.
He remembers the clothes line outside.
He goes out to the clothes line, and hangs up the wet tissue.
It flaps wetly, the faint outline of Terence's drawing backlit by the early morning sun.
A face appears behind it.
Fine work, says the face. But ephemeral. How would you like to transfer that design to a pot?
Monday, November 5, 2018
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