It's Hypnotic

Gaius lowers himself into the sink hole.

Arthur puts his spade down.

You've worked hard, says Gaius.

I've done more than I meant to, says Arthur.

That's not like you, says Gaius.

It's the music, says Arthur. It's hypnotic.

Is it? says Gaius. He pauses and listens.

Elodie is still strumming the orange song, above ground.

Well, well, says Gaius. Each to his own. I don't find it particularly hypnotic.

I'm done now, says Arthur. Why are you here?

I'm here to practise my pratfall. Where is the string?

Stored over here, says Arthur. With the sticks.

Gaius sets about sticking two sticks in the dirt and stringing string between them at ankle height.

Now help me tie on this cushion, says Gaius.

But Arthur has vanished.

Gaius ties the cushion on himself.

Then he walks like an old woman with one buttock towards the strung string.

He stops, braces himself, and tumbles over.

Celia is watching from the rim of the sink hole.

Would you like some feedback?

I would appreciate it, says Gaius. How did that look?

Like you did it on purpose, says Celia.

I did, says Gaius. But I understand what you're saying. It should look like an accident.

Yes, says Celia. Therefore, you should walk forward as if the string isn't there.

Sage advice, says Gaius. Let me try it.

He strides forward and almost convincingly trips on the string.

Much better, says Celia. A few more times and you'll be perfect.

I shall do that, says Gaius. By the way, where is the seating?

Seating? asks Celia. I suppose it's being delivered.

Where will it be? asks Gaius.

Along the fence line, says Celia.

There wasn't much room along the fence line, Gaius remembers.

He looks around the dark and roomy sink hole.

They could put seats down here.

He clambers out of the sink hole, by means of a dirt pile.

You're filthy, says Elodie.

Doesn't matter, says Gaius.

But... your cushion, says Elodie.

It'll be under my costume, says Gaius. Now about the seating. Are you staying here?

For a while, says Elodie. Until Belle comes.

See what she thinks about placing some seats in the sink hole, says Gaius.

Won't that be dangerous? asks Elodie.

Nonsense, says Gaius. Arthur will have done an excellent job. It'll be safe as houses.

Okay, if you say so, says Elodie.

Gaius, now that he is out of the sink hole, doesn't feel like going back in.

He leaves the Gardens, with his dirty cushion.

Above ground, Elodie keeps on strumming.

When anyone stops to listen, she invites them to the opening night.

In the dark sink hole, the trip string vibrates like the wing of a butterfly.

Soil lumps loosen and quiver.