Up With A Wangle

I want to make a story pot, says Terence.

Of course you do, says Gloria.

What's first? asks Terence. The pot or the story?

You already have the story, says Gaius.

It's not finished, says Terence. It needs a canoe.

That's my story, says Gloria. Yours is out there on the clothes line.

Is it? asks Terence.

He runs outside.

Tea, Gloria? asks Gaius.

Thank you, says Gloria.

He sets the tea down in front of her face.

So you're an artist, says Humboldt. Do you have a portfolio?

Not on me, says Gloria. As a spirit, I carry very little.

She inhales the steam from the tea.

Someone should check on Terence, says Gaius.

I'll do it, says Gloria. He's now my protegé.

Excellent! says Gaius. That leaves us to sort out what to do with these flip flops.

Gloria rises, hovers briefly and flits outside.

Terence is jumping at the wet tissue. He can't reach it.

Leave it, says Gloria. You're coming with me!

Where are we going? asks Terence.

To the Waypundun clay deposits, to get clay for your very first pot, says Gloria.

I'm not allowed to, says Terence.

How old are you? asks Gloria.

Yes, how old is he? How old was he when he went to Melbourne and Grandpa Marx lost him? So why isn't he allowed to?

I'm coming, says Terence. Can we bring my tissue?

Okay, says Gloria. I'll pull it off with my teeth. You can fold it.

Terence waits as she pulls the wet tissue with her teeth. It will tear, surely. That will be funny. But no! It doesn't! It's dry!

Now he has to fold it.

Lay it out flat, says Gloria. Now end-to-end it. Then end-to-end it again. Then once more and it should be small enough to fit into your pocket.

It's the hardest thing Terence has done in a long time. Folding something up, till it's small.

Very good, says Gloria. You have your blueprint. Let's go!

I'll just say goodbye to Sweezus, says Terence.

He sticks his head through the door.

Sweezus is frowning morosely at a big pile of flip flops.

Bye, says Terence. I'm going to get clay for my pot.

Uh, says Sweezus.

Uh you, says Terence.

He returns to the clothes line.

Did I hear you say Up You? says Gloria. I won't tolerate bad language.

He said it first, says Terence.

Never say it again, says Gloria. Especially to me. I'm your mentor.

I wouldn't say it to you, says Terence. You're up already. Is a mentor a parrot?

No, says Gloria, it's a person that's smarter than you. Come on, start walking. Shove that tissue into your pocket.

Terence obeys her. As he walks, he crackles.

What's that noise? asks Gloria.

You tell me, says Terence. You're the smart one.

It'll be the tissue, says Gloria. It'll stop soon.

Can I have a canoe on my pot? asks Terence. You had one.

If you want a canoe, you must wangle one into your story, says Gloria. Start thinking.

Terence plods along below Gloria, trying to come up with a wangle......