The same morning.
Gaius, Elodie and Sprocket have arrived at Lake Jasper.
It's the largest freshwater lake in southwest Australia.
They are not the only ones here.
There are other HiLuxes, and other campers camping.
Even people canoeing.
This is nice, says Elodie. Let's start by asking a few people if they've seen any spiders.
We should set up camp first, says Gaius.
Set up camp? says Elodie. We've hardly brought anything.
I'll go and start asking, says Sprocket. I'll record the answers.
Good man, says Gaius.
Sprocket goes off with his smartphone, and Gaius gets his back pack from the tray of the HiLux.
He tips the contents onto the ground.
Great, says Elodie. You brought a groundsheet.
Did I? asks Gaius. Oh that.
It isn't really a ground sheet, but a folded up poncho.
It'll do, says Elodie, spreading out the poncho.
Gaius has also brought a bag of pears, and a cheese wheel.
You surprise me, says Elodie. I wouldn't have thought you liked Gouda.
We'll see, says Gaius. Now I must make a phone call.
He calls David.
As we know, David is not driving, so he picks up.
Hello, Gaius? Where are you? Good. Yes we did. No, not all of them, one was left behind in the water. No they don't seem that bothered, made up a poem, very moving. What's it like there? Found any spiders? Yes we'll be there in fifteen minutes, sooner if Arthur.....I don't know, I'll ask him. Yes. Okay. See you soon.
Good, says Gaius. Arthur has brought all my notes on the peacock spider.
Brilliant, says Elodie.
Gaius's phone rings.
David?
Yes, me again. Arthur says to let you know that page one is missing, but not to worry. Blood. No, not his. He and Shu were fighting with knives in your kitchen and they couldn't find any bandages...Yes probably, knowing Arthur. Okay. See you shortly.
Knives, says Gaius. They will come in handy for cutting the cheese.
Great, says Elodie. Well, camp's set up, so I'm going to check out the birdlife. If I'm lucky I might see an endangered little bittern.
Yes, do, says Gaius. I'll wait here for David and Arthur and Shu. And Baby Pierre and his cohorts.
Except for one, says Elodie. Which one is it?
I forgot to ask, says Gaius.
Elodie goes off to look for an endangered little bittern.
Gaius settles down on the plastic poncho to wait for the rest of his party.
Ten minutes later, they arrive.
Arthur! cries Gaius. David! Shu! Welcome to the biodiversity hotspot. Help yourselves to cheese and pears. And water.
We've got our own water, says Shu.
Good, good, says Gaius We haven't got much, now I think about it.
David sits down on the poncho and helps himself to a pear while Shu gets the tin from the back seat of the camper.
Arthur is about to sit down when he spots a small spider.
He brushes it away with his hand.
It was more fragile than he expected and it breaks into several parts.
No coming back for the spider.
Arthur looks up.
Someone is pointing a camera phone at him. Someone with a smudgy gold back to front question mark on his forehead.
Arthur pulls out a knife. Sprocket stops filming.
Tuesday, April 30, 2019
Monday, April 29, 2019
How The Future Will Happen
It turns out that Lavender doesn't know the future.
Shu comes back with the bike.
My bike! cries Baby Pierre. Is it damaged?
No, says Shu. It's just dripping like a water spout. All over my tennis shoes.
Is that a sad poem? asks First Dirty.
No, it isn't says Shu. It is simply an observation.
He jigs up and down in his shoes.
Whereas I AM damaged, says David. What was your bicycle doing out there?
Mouldy was on it, says Baby Pierre. Where is he?
I didn't see any Mouldy, says David.
He must have fallen in, says First Dirty.
He asks Lavender. Is that what happened?
Yes, says Lavender. That's what I meant was going to happen.
First Dirty and Second Dirty tend to believe her.
She does know the future. But not to whom it will happen.
It has happened to Mouldy, instead of the bicycle.
Now Mouldy will see out his days in the waters of Lake Clifton, with the thrombolites. Perhaps he will even learn their way of knowing: Bloop~~~number one is coming~~~
We must get going if we're to meet Gaius at Lake Jasper this morning, says David. Will you drive, Arthur? My ankle is sore.
Sure, says Arthur.
Arthur scoops up First and Second Dirty, Lavender and Baby Pierre, and drops them into the tin. Shu carries the tiny bike at arm's length, and places it on the cracked vinyl seat of the camper.
Everyone is on board now, except Mouldy. Arthur drives off.
He likes driving the camper. He drives fast.
Not so fast, says David. We don't want any trouble.
Arthur slows down.
They drive past the pure tuart forest.
No one pays any attention.
They are listening to those in the tin, making up a sad poem, for Mouldy.
After many alterations the poem is ready and Lavender is going to recite it, because she is new, and because she foresaw the sad fate of Mouldy.
For Mouldy
Water drips onto Shu's shoe
Like our tears
Green and blue.
Mouldy was trying
To ride fast and low
When he bumped into David
And vanished below.
Now water drips onto Shu's shoe
Like our tears
Green and blue
A sweet poem.
Shu and David clap softly, because they are both mentioned in it.
Arthur doesn't, because he is driving the camper.
Shu comes back with the bike.
My bike! cries Baby Pierre. Is it damaged?
No, says Shu. It's just dripping like a water spout. All over my tennis shoes.
Is that a sad poem? asks First Dirty.
No, it isn't says Shu. It is simply an observation.
He jigs up and down in his shoes.
Whereas I AM damaged, says David. What was your bicycle doing out there?
Mouldy was on it, says Baby Pierre. Where is he?
I didn't see any Mouldy, says David.
He must have fallen in, says First Dirty.
He asks Lavender. Is that what happened?
Yes, says Lavender. That's what I meant was going to happen.
First Dirty and Second Dirty tend to believe her.
She does know the future. But not to whom it will happen.
It has happened to Mouldy, instead of the bicycle.
Now Mouldy will see out his days in the waters of Lake Clifton, with the thrombolites. Perhaps he will even learn their way of knowing: Bloop~~~number one is coming~~~
We must get going if we're to meet Gaius at Lake Jasper this morning, says David. Will you drive, Arthur? My ankle is sore.
Sure, says Arthur.
Arthur scoops up First and Second Dirty, Lavender and Baby Pierre, and drops them into the tin. Shu carries the tiny bike at arm's length, and places it on the cracked vinyl seat of the camper.
Everyone is on board now, except Mouldy. Arthur drives off.
He likes driving the camper. He drives fast.
Not so fast, says David. We don't want any trouble.
Arthur slows down.
They drive past the pure tuart forest.
No one pays any attention.
They are listening to those in the tin, making up a sad poem, for Mouldy.
After many alterations the poem is ready and Lavender is going to recite it, because she is new, and because she foresaw the sad fate of Mouldy.
For Mouldy
Water drips onto Shu's shoe
Like our tears
Green and blue.
Mouldy was trying
To ride fast and low
When he bumped into David
And vanished below.
Now water drips onto Shu's shoe
Like our tears
Green and blue
A sweet poem.
Shu and David clap softly, because they are both mentioned in it.
Arthur doesn't, because he is driving the camper.
Sunday, April 28, 2019
Don't Ask Her If She Knows The Future
Shu rushes out to help David, who has tripped on the boardwalk.
Before rushing, he has put down the tin.
Actually, more like dropped it.
Clang! Baby Pierre, First and Second Dirty roll onto the sand, along with.....
Lavender!
Lavender! cries Baby Pierre.
Hello, cousin, says Lavender. She says cousin because she does not know First or Second Dirty, and they are both staring.
Who said YOU could come? asks Baby Pierre.
Arthur, says Lavender.
I bet he didn't, says Baby Pierre. How did he say it?
Come on, says Lavender. He said Come on, you're a space in the shape of a fossil, and I said I loved him and he said why and I said because you said I could come.
Baby Pierre looks up at Arthur who is looking towards the boardwalk where Shu is helping David get up.
Did you say she could come?
Yes, says Arthur. It turns out I said she could come.
Baby Pierre can't argue with that. Arthur said she could come.
Introduce us to your cousin, says First Dirty.
Baby Pierre, says Lavender.
Not him, you, says First Dirty.
Lavender, says Baby Pierre. She's my cousin. She's an empty space. What more can I say?
She's pretty, says Second Dirty. And she looks like a shell that got stuck in a pebble.
Actually, says Lavender, I'm not the shell, which by the way is an augur. I'm the space inside it.
You can't be, says First Dirty.
Too bad, says Lavender. I am.
She is, says Baby Pierre. And don't ask her if she knows the future.
You should never tell someone not to ask someone else if they know the future.
Does she? asks Second Dirty.
No, says Baby Pierre
Why would we ask her? asks First Dirty.
Because I'm a space in the shape of a auger, says Lavender.
See how stupid she is, says Baby Pierre. She thinks an auger is the same as an augur.
I DO know the future, says Lavender. I know your dumb bicycle has fallen into the water and you're not getting it back because we're in a hurry to go and look for spiders.
No WAY! says Baby Pierre.
He rolls out onto the boardwalk to meet David who is slowly limping back.
Shu is a bit further out on the boardwalk, flat on his stomach, extending a hand into the water.
What for?
What for indeed.
Soon we shall see whether Lavender does know the future.
Before rushing, he has put down the tin.
Actually, more like dropped it.
Clang! Baby Pierre, First and Second Dirty roll onto the sand, along with.....
Lavender!
Lavender! cries Baby Pierre.
Hello, cousin, says Lavender. She says cousin because she does not know First or Second Dirty, and they are both staring.
Who said YOU could come? asks Baby Pierre.
Arthur, says Lavender.
I bet he didn't, says Baby Pierre. How did he say it?
Come on, says Lavender. He said Come on, you're a space in the shape of a fossil, and I said I loved him and he said why and I said because you said I could come.
Baby Pierre looks up at Arthur who is looking towards the boardwalk where Shu is helping David get up.
Did you say she could come?
Yes, says Arthur. It turns out I said she could come.
Baby Pierre can't argue with that. Arthur said she could come.
Introduce us to your cousin, says First Dirty.
Baby Pierre, says Lavender.
Not him, you, says First Dirty.
Lavender, says Baby Pierre. She's my cousin. She's an empty space. What more can I say?
She's pretty, says Second Dirty. And she looks like a shell that got stuck in a pebble.
Actually, says Lavender, I'm not the shell, which by the way is an augur. I'm the space inside it.
You can't be, says First Dirty.
Too bad, says Lavender. I am.
She is, says Baby Pierre. And don't ask her if she knows the future.
You should never tell someone not to ask someone else if they know the future.
Does she? asks Second Dirty.
No, says Baby Pierre
Why would we ask her? asks First Dirty.
Because I'm a space in the shape of a auger, says Lavender.
See how stupid she is, says Baby Pierre. She thinks an auger is the same as an augur.
I DO know the future, says Lavender. I know your dumb bicycle has fallen into the water and you're not getting it back because we're in a hurry to go and look for spiders.
No WAY! says Baby Pierre.
He rolls out onto the boardwalk to meet David who is slowly limping back.
Shu is a bit further out on the boardwalk, flat on his stomach, extending a hand into the water.
What for?
What for indeed.
Soon we shall see whether Lavender does know the future.
Saturday, April 27, 2019
Who Is Where?
At last it is Thursday.
And who is where?
Gaius, Elodie and Sprocket are on their way to Lake Jasper.
There is nothing between the pure tuart forest and Lake Jasper that might result in a hold up.
A few more kilometres, and they will be there.
....
Baby Pierre, Mouldy and First and Second Dirty are waiting at the edge of Lake Clifton.
To pass the time Baby Pierre spins the wheels of his bicycle.
Spin spin spin spin. It's hypnotic.
How come they're green? asks Second Dirty.
Green is faster, says Baby Pierre. I could choose the colour so I chose green. They're actually o-rings.
Custom made? asks Mouldy.
Yes, says Baby Pierre. I do a lot of professional racing.
How come you're not famous? asks Mouldy.
I ride under the radar, says Baby Pierre. Next time there's a pile up, look for a green flash, in the distance.
You cause pile ups on purpose? says First Dirty, impressed.
No, that wouldn't be ethical, says Baby Pierre. I'm just fast and low. Fast and low, that's my motto.
(It has not been his motto. But it's his motto now).
Mouldy is inspired by the motto.
Can I have a go?
Okay, says Baby Pierre. But only on the boardwalk.
Mouldy gets on the bike and wobbles towards the boardwalk.
Wobbly and slow, says Second Dirty. That's his motto.
They are laughing at this when a camper pulls up on the track just behind them.
Three people get out. One holds a container.
Where are they? Can you see them? asks David. This whole place is littered with pebbles.
No, says Arthur, who is not the one with the container.
No, says Shu, who is. Try the third thrombolite.
Third thrombolite, says David. Of course. I'll wander out there.
Here we are! cries Baby Pierre.
Here they are, says Arthur.
He picks up Baby Pierre, First Dirty and Second Dirty.
Container! says Arthur.
Shu thrusts it forth.
Arthur drops Baby Pierre, First and Second Dirty into the container, which is a rolled wafer tin, that smells of egg and vanilla.
Ding, ding, ding.
But wait! There is something else in there, taking up space in the corner!
And that's not the only thing unexpected.
David has tripped, on the boardwalk.
And who is where?
Gaius, Elodie and Sprocket are on their way to Lake Jasper.
There is nothing between the pure tuart forest and Lake Jasper that might result in a hold up.
A few more kilometres, and they will be there.
....
Baby Pierre, Mouldy and First and Second Dirty are waiting at the edge of Lake Clifton.
To pass the time Baby Pierre spins the wheels of his bicycle.
Spin spin spin spin. It's hypnotic.
How come they're green? asks Second Dirty.
Green is faster, says Baby Pierre. I could choose the colour so I chose green. They're actually o-rings.
Custom made? asks Mouldy.
Yes, says Baby Pierre. I do a lot of professional racing.
How come you're not famous? asks Mouldy.
I ride under the radar, says Baby Pierre. Next time there's a pile up, look for a green flash, in the distance.
You cause pile ups on purpose? says First Dirty, impressed.
No, that wouldn't be ethical, says Baby Pierre. I'm just fast and low. Fast and low, that's my motto.
(It has not been his motto. But it's his motto now).
Mouldy is inspired by the motto.
Can I have a go?
Okay, says Baby Pierre. But only on the boardwalk.
Mouldy gets on the bike and wobbles towards the boardwalk.
Wobbly and slow, says Second Dirty. That's his motto.
They are laughing at this when a camper pulls up on the track just behind them.
Three people get out. One holds a container.
Where are they? Can you see them? asks David. This whole place is littered with pebbles.
No, says Arthur, who is not the one with the container.
No, says Shu, who is. Try the third thrombolite.
Third thrombolite, says David. Of course. I'll wander out there.
Here we are! cries Baby Pierre.
Here they are, says Arthur.
He picks up Baby Pierre, First Dirty and Second Dirty.
Container! says Arthur.
Shu thrusts it forth.
Arthur drops Baby Pierre, First and Second Dirty into the container, which is a rolled wafer tin, that smells of egg and vanilla.
Ding, ding, ding.
But wait! There is something else in there, taking up space in the corner!
And that's not the only thing unexpected.
David has tripped, on the boardwalk.
Friday, April 26, 2019
Four Free Thinkers Waiting For Thursday
It's dark in the pure tuart forest.
Elodie has a torch.
She lends it to Gaius who examines a tree trunk by torchlight.
Sprocket is climbing a rope that someone has left dangling.
He drops his phone down to Elodie.
Make a video, says Sprocket.
Okay, says Elodie. Is it for your documentary?
Huh? says Sprocket. Oh. Yeah.
Elodie has always valued artistic integrity, so she shoots in the style of Baby Pierre.
Sprocket has reached a wooden landing and hooked himself up to a zipline.
Seconds later a whirring sound diminishes as Sprocket ziplines away.
Elodie reviews her video.
Sprocket's bare feet, and gold painted toenails, streaked with blood; a rope slapping against a tree trunk; a spray of white tuart flowers curling brown at the edges; Gaius's moonlight shadow as he taps at the dense wood of a tuart.
It's not quite up to Baby Pierre's standard, but it's good.
We ought to get going, says Gaius. Where's Sprocket?
Hasn't come back yet, says Elodie. We might have to camp here tonight.
Really! says Gaius. It's not all it's cracked up to be, getting a lift in a HiLux with Sprocket.
Chill, says Elodie. It's only Wednesday. We'll be at Lake Jasper tomorrow.
......
Meanwhile at Lake Clifton, the pebbles sit in a row on the sand and talk about Thursday.
Who will come? asks First Dirty.
David and Arthur and Shu, says Baby Pierre.
Shoe? says Second Dirty.
Shu, says Baby Pierre. He's a poet, like Arthur, but he isn't like Arthur. Shu writes sad poems.
Like what? asks Mouldy I like a sad poem.
Me too, says Second Dirty.
With many a sigh I gaze on the moon, single as a flower, says Baby Pierre.
I do that, says Second Dirty. That means I'm a poet.
No it doesn't, says Baby Pierre. You have to write it down.
Okay, says Second Dirty. What about Arthur?
He writes scary poems, says Baby Pierre. Giant serpents devoured by bedbugs fall down from gnarled trees with black scent.
That's good, says Mouldy. What about the other one, David?
He's a philosopher like me, says Baby Pierre. He thinks that everything we believe stems from experience.
Is that what you believe? asks Mouuldy.
No, says Baby Pierre. And that's because of my mother.
Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty don't remember their mothers.
Go on, says Mouldy.
She ignores me, says Baby Pierre.
That would be sad.
You should be a sad poet, says Second Dirty. Like Shoe is.
Not my style, says Baby Pierre. I'm a free thinker.
So am I, says Mouldy.
Me too, says First Dirty.
And me, says Second Dirty.
The moon rises, and the waters of Lake Clifton lap softly around the piles of the boardwalk.
The thrombolites bloop.
And the free thinkers lapse into silence, waiting for Thursday.
Elodie has a torch.
She lends it to Gaius who examines a tree trunk by torchlight.
Sprocket is climbing a rope that someone has left dangling.
He drops his phone down to Elodie.
Make a video, says Sprocket.
Okay, says Elodie. Is it for your documentary?
Huh? says Sprocket. Oh. Yeah.
Elodie has always valued artistic integrity, so she shoots in the style of Baby Pierre.
Sprocket has reached a wooden landing and hooked himself up to a zipline.
Seconds later a whirring sound diminishes as Sprocket ziplines away.
Elodie reviews her video.
Sprocket's bare feet, and gold painted toenails, streaked with blood; a rope slapping against a tree trunk; a spray of white tuart flowers curling brown at the edges; Gaius's moonlight shadow as he taps at the dense wood of a tuart.
It's not quite up to Baby Pierre's standard, but it's good.
We ought to get going, says Gaius. Where's Sprocket?
Hasn't come back yet, says Elodie. We might have to camp here tonight.
Really! says Gaius. It's not all it's cracked up to be, getting a lift in a HiLux with Sprocket.
Chill, says Elodie. It's only Wednesday. We'll be at Lake Jasper tomorrow.
......
Meanwhile at Lake Clifton, the pebbles sit in a row on the sand and talk about Thursday.
Who will come? asks First Dirty.
David and Arthur and Shu, says Baby Pierre.
Shoe? says Second Dirty.
Shu, says Baby Pierre. He's a poet, like Arthur, but he isn't like Arthur. Shu writes sad poems.
Like what? asks Mouldy I like a sad poem.
Me too, says Second Dirty.
With many a sigh I gaze on the moon, single as a flower, says Baby Pierre.
I do that, says Second Dirty. That means I'm a poet.
No it doesn't, says Baby Pierre. You have to write it down.
Okay, says Second Dirty. What about Arthur?
He writes scary poems, says Baby Pierre. Giant serpents devoured by bedbugs fall down from gnarled trees with black scent.
That's good, says Mouldy. What about the other one, David?
He's a philosopher like me, says Baby Pierre. He thinks that everything we believe stems from experience.
Is that what you believe? asks Mouuldy.
No, says Baby Pierre. And that's because of my mother.
Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty don't remember their mothers.
Go on, says Mouldy.
She ignores me, says Baby Pierre.
That would be sad.
You should be a sad poet, says Second Dirty. Like Shoe is.
Not my style, says Baby Pierre. I'm a free thinker.
So am I, says Mouldy.
Me too, says First Dirty.
And me, says Second Dirty.
The moon rises, and the waters of Lake Clifton lap softly around the piles of the boardwalk.
The thrombolites bloop.
And the free thinkers lapse into silence, waiting for Thursday.
Thursday, April 25, 2019
A Prod In The Interests Of Science
Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty retreat to the sand at the start of the boardwalk.
Heh-heh, says Second Dirty. That was funny. Number one is coming.
Maybe it's right, says First Dirty.
They can't move, says Mouldy. So how can one be coming?
Coming up, says First Dirty. From the bottom.
But that would take thousands of years, says Second Dirty. And it wouldn't be called number one.
True, says Mouldy. Let's think outside the box.
What's inside the box? asks First Dirty.
Number one is another thrombolite, says Mouldy.
What's outside it? asks Second Dirty.
Anything else, says First Dirty.
Not just ANYTHING, says Mouldy. It must be as old as them, or older.
And it must be able to move, says First Dirty.
Come and go, says Second Dirty.
If it comes, says Mouldy, and then it goes, we could go with it.
If we had bikes, says Second Dirty, we wouldn't need it.
They think of Baby Pierre.
He has a bike, with green wheels. How come HE is so lucky? And he pretended to be their friend and invited them to come with him to look for tiny spiders and then he went off in a HiLux without saying anything. Zero. HE won't be back.
Ding! A bicycle bell dings in the distance.
They look at one another.
It may be a bicycling tourist. Or it might be......
Baby Pierre skids to a stoppie.
He is prepared. They will be angry.
Look what you guys made me do! says Baby Pierre.
No need to take that line, says Mouldy. We knew you were coming. And we've been busy.
Busy doing what? asks Baby Pierre.
Teaching a lesson to the thrombolites, says Second Dirty.
What lesson? asks Baby Pierre?
Look after number one, says Mouldy. Looks like YOU know that lesson.
But here I am, says Baby Pierre.
They have to admit it. Here he is. With one bicycle.
Now what? asks Mouldy.
There's a plan, says Baby Pierre. Is it Wednesday?
How do we know? asks First Dirty. Time means little at Lake Clifton.
On Thursday morning, says Baby Pierre, we'll be rescued. All we have to do is wait here.
Let them complain about that!
How did they react to the lesson? asks Baby Pierre.
They said number one isn't here now but he's coming, says Mouldy.
Maybe they meant me, says Baby Pierre. I'm going out on the boardwalk to see if they hail me.
He rides out and stops. Wheels his bike up and down in the moonlight. But they do not hail him.
He is not number one.
Number one has not visited for at least forty years.
It came in a dinghy and wore a pink wetsuit and prodded them in the interests of science.
Heh-heh, says Second Dirty. That was funny. Number one is coming.
Maybe it's right, says First Dirty.
They can't move, says Mouldy. So how can one be coming?
Coming up, says First Dirty. From the bottom.
But that would take thousands of years, says Second Dirty. And it wouldn't be called number one.
True, says Mouldy. Let's think outside the box.
What's inside the box? asks First Dirty.
Number one is another thrombolite, says Mouldy.
What's outside it? asks Second Dirty.
Anything else, says First Dirty.
Not just ANYTHING, says Mouldy. It must be as old as them, or older.
And it must be able to move, says First Dirty.
Come and go, says Second Dirty.
If it comes, says Mouldy, and then it goes, we could go with it.
If we had bikes, says Second Dirty, we wouldn't need it.
They think of Baby Pierre.
He has a bike, with green wheels. How come HE is so lucky? And he pretended to be their friend and invited them to come with him to look for tiny spiders and then he went off in a HiLux without saying anything. Zero. HE won't be back.
Ding! A bicycle bell dings in the distance.
They look at one another.
It may be a bicycling tourist. Or it might be......
Baby Pierre skids to a stoppie.
He is prepared. They will be angry.
Look what you guys made me do! says Baby Pierre.
No need to take that line, says Mouldy. We knew you were coming. And we've been busy.
Busy doing what? asks Baby Pierre.
Teaching a lesson to the thrombolites, says Second Dirty.
What lesson? asks Baby Pierre?
Look after number one, says Mouldy. Looks like YOU know that lesson.
But here I am, says Baby Pierre.
They have to admit it. Here he is. With one bicycle.
Now what? asks Mouldy.
There's a plan, says Baby Pierre. Is it Wednesday?
How do we know? asks First Dirty. Time means little at Lake Clifton.
On Thursday morning, says Baby Pierre, we'll be rescued. All we have to do is wait here.
Let them complain about that!
How did they react to the lesson? asks Baby Pierre.
They said number one isn't here now but he's coming, says Mouldy.
Maybe they meant me, says Baby Pierre. I'm going out on the boardwalk to see if they hail me.
He rides out and stops. Wheels his bike up and down in the moonlight. But they do not hail him.
He is not number one.
Number one has not visited for at least forty years.
It came in a dinghy and wore a pink wetsuit and prodded them in the interests of science.
Wednesday, April 24, 2019
Number One Is Away
Gaius, Elodie and Sprocket have finished their early dinner, at the Water's Edge Café.
They are back on the road.
Elodie: What's the next town?
Sprocket: Busselton.
Elodie: Maybe we should stop there. It might be too late to check in when we get to Lake Jasper.
Gaius: Nonsense. We shouldn't let that stop us.
Sprocket: There's a forest at Busselton. The world's only pure tuart forest.
Elodie: What's a pure tuart?
Gaius: Otherwise known as Eucalyptus gomphocephala.
Elodie: So, it's a gum tree.
Gaius: Indeed. A forest giant. All right, perhaps we've time for a quick look at the forest.
Sprocket (swerving): It'll be down this track here.
It is.
They enter the pure tuart forest.
Sprocket pulls up. They get out of the HiLux and enter a magical forest of giant tuarts, some linked together with ropes, creaking.
........
Baby Pierre is still travelling north.
He pulls a stoppie and looks up at the night sky.
The night sky beams down, with the moon in it.
He can't be too far from Lake Clifton.
He can hear the wind in the casuarinas.
Phooshee.....
........
Not far up the road, at Lake Clifton, Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty are resigned to their fate.
It's hubris, says Mouldy. We'll probably turn into thrombolites and be here forever.
Thrombolites! says First Dirty. They don't know anything.
We could teach them, says Second Dirty.
Teach them what? asks Mouldy.
Lessons, says Second Dirty.
They try to think up some lessons.
Look after number one, says Mouldy. That's a lesson.
It's dark, but they venture onto the boardwalk.
They stop at the third thrombolite.
The one Gaius dropped the date ball onto (accidentally).
The third thrombolite was not expecting three visitors.
Bloop~~~?
Listen up, says Mouldy. We're here to teach you a lesson.
Bloop~~~we? what is the lesson?
Look after number one.
Bloop~~~ he is away~~~
Second Dirty. It doesn't get it.
Mouldy: You are!
Bloop~~~ wrong~~~we here are all~~~ number one is away~~~
Mouldy: It's hopeless!
Bloop~~~no he is coming~~~
They are back on the road.
Elodie: What's the next town?
Sprocket: Busselton.
Elodie: Maybe we should stop there. It might be too late to check in when we get to Lake Jasper.
Gaius: Nonsense. We shouldn't let that stop us.
Sprocket: There's a forest at Busselton. The world's only pure tuart forest.
Elodie: What's a pure tuart?
Gaius: Otherwise known as Eucalyptus gomphocephala.
Elodie: So, it's a gum tree.
Gaius: Indeed. A forest giant. All right, perhaps we've time for a quick look at the forest.
Sprocket (swerving): It'll be down this track here.
It is.
They enter the pure tuart forest.
Sprocket pulls up. They get out of the HiLux and enter a magical forest of giant tuarts, some linked together with ropes, creaking.
........
Baby Pierre is still travelling north.
He pulls a stoppie and looks up at the night sky.
The night sky beams down, with the moon in it.
He can't be too far from Lake Clifton.
He can hear the wind in the casuarinas.
Phooshee.....
........
Not far up the road, at Lake Clifton, Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty are resigned to their fate.
It's hubris, says Mouldy. We'll probably turn into thrombolites and be here forever.
Thrombolites! says First Dirty. They don't know anything.
We could teach them, says Second Dirty.
Teach them what? asks Mouldy.
Lessons, says Second Dirty.
They try to think up some lessons.
Look after number one, says Mouldy. That's a lesson.
It's dark, but they venture onto the boardwalk.
They stop at the third thrombolite.
The one Gaius dropped the date ball onto (accidentally).
The third thrombolite was not expecting three visitors.
Bloop~~~?
Listen up, says Mouldy. We're here to teach you a lesson.
Bloop~~~we? what is the lesson?
Look after number one.
Bloop~~~ he is away~~~
Second Dirty. It doesn't get it.
Mouldy: You are!
Bloop~~~ wrong~~~we here are all~~~ number one is away~~~
Mouldy: It's hopeless!
Bloop~~~no he is coming~~~
Tuesday, April 23, 2019
Quiche And Chocolate
Back in Adelaide, David has invited Shu and Arthur to dinner at his house.
Welcome, boys, says David. I'm making a quiche.
It smells nice, says Shu.
Arthur sniffs. It smells eggy. And vegetabley. But not bacony.
Vegetarian, says David. No reason, I just haven't been to the shops.
David potters about getting plates out.
The quiche is ready. He takes it out of the oven and sets it on the table.
Arthur and Shu watch it collapsing and shrinking away from the sides of the quiche dish.
David sits down.
Too hot to eat yet, says David. Care for a chocolate?
This might seem inappropriate, until you remember it's just after Easter.
David goes to the pantry and brings back a bright foil-wrapped rabbit.
I didn't want this, says David. It was mother. She can't help herself.
I'll have some, says Arthur.
David unwraps the rabbit, and whacks it with a knife.
Who wants this bit?
It's a big bit, with ears. Arthur takes it.
They eat chocolate, while the quiche grows ever smaller.
Did either of you get a message from Gaius? asks David.
Haven't looked, says Arthur. He looks.
What's a jasper?
A precious stone, says Shu. And I too have a message. It's very specific. It asks me to meet Baby Pierre on the boardwalk at the third thrombolite at Lake Clifton on Thursday morning and bring a container.
A container, says David. Does he say what size container?
No, says Shu. And what's a thrombolite?
No idea, says David. Sounds like a blood clot. My message says Baby Pierre is stranded.
With three friends who are possibly jaspers, says Arthur.
So we have the full picture, says David.
Not really, says Shu. Where is Lake Clifton? How do we get there?
The quiche has stopped shrinking, but is now changing colour. The yellow has faded to beige. Wrinkled slices of zucchini are becoming apparent.
David is searching his book case for the Road Atlas of Australia.
He finds it.
How old is that Atlas? asks Arthur.
Circa nineteen eighty says David. But these places don't change much. He flicks through it.
Ah, here. It's thirty five kilometres south of Mandurah.
And Baby Pierre is stranded there, says Shu.
With three jaspers, says Arthur. Or possibly Jaspers.
With a capital J, says David. You may be right. They may be three chaps with the surname of Jasper.
In which case we'll need a big container, says Shu.
A camper, says David. I'll hire a camper!
He has wanted all along to hire a camper. This is the perfect excuse.
Do try my quiche, says David, picking up the knife. It's cool now.
What's that? asks Arthur pointing to a red chunk sticking out of his slice.
Red capsicum, says David. And the green is green capsicum. And the yellow is pumpkin. The transparent strips with purple edges are red onion....
And that? asks Shu.
Chocolate, says David. Apologies. I should have washed the knife.
But in fact, it tastes better with chocolate.
Welcome, boys, says David. I'm making a quiche.
It smells nice, says Shu.
Arthur sniffs. It smells eggy. And vegetabley. But not bacony.
Vegetarian, says David. No reason, I just haven't been to the shops.
David potters about getting plates out.
The quiche is ready. He takes it out of the oven and sets it on the table.
Arthur and Shu watch it collapsing and shrinking away from the sides of the quiche dish.
David sits down.
Too hot to eat yet, says David. Care for a chocolate?
This might seem inappropriate, until you remember it's just after Easter.
David goes to the pantry and brings back a bright foil-wrapped rabbit.
I didn't want this, says David. It was mother. She can't help herself.
I'll have some, says Arthur.
David unwraps the rabbit, and whacks it with a knife.
Who wants this bit?
It's a big bit, with ears. Arthur takes it.
They eat chocolate, while the quiche grows ever smaller.
Did either of you get a message from Gaius? asks David.
Haven't looked, says Arthur. He looks.
What's a jasper?
A precious stone, says Shu. And I too have a message. It's very specific. It asks me to meet Baby Pierre on the boardwalk at the third thrombolite at Lake Clifton on Thursday morning and bring a container.
A container, says David. Does he say what size container?
No, says Shu. And what's a thrombolite?
No idea, says David. Sounds like a blood clot. My message says Baby Pierre is stranded.
With three friends who are possibly jaspers, says Arthur.
So we have the full picture, says David.
Not really, says Shu. Where is Lake Clifton? How do we get there?
The quiche has stopped shrinking, but is now changing colour. The yellow has faded to beige. Wrinkled slices of zucchini are becoming apparent.
David is searching his book case for the Road Atlas of Australia.
He finds it.
How old is that Atlas? asks Arthur.
Circa nineteen eighty says David. But these places don't change much. He flicks through it.
Ah, here. It's thirty five kilometres south of Mandurah.
And Baby Pierre is stranded there, says Shu.
With three jaspers, says Arthur. Or possibly Jaspers.
With a capital J, says David. You may be right. They may be three chaps with the surname of Jasper.
In which case we'll need a big container, says Shu.
A camper, says David. I'll hire a camper!
He has wanted all along to hire a camper. This is the perfect excuse.
Do try my quiche, says David, picking up the knife. It's cool now.
What's that? asks Arthur pointing to a red chunk sticking out of his slice.
Red capsicum, says David. And the green is green capsicum. And the yellow is pumpkin. The transparent strips with purple edges are red onion....
And that? asks Shu.
Chocolate, says David. Apologies. I should have washed the knife.
But in fact, it tastes better with chocolate.
Monday, April 22, 2019
The Road And The Moon
Right! Early dinner, says Elodie. Where shall we go?
I recommend the Water's Edge Café, says Carolyn. They do a great rabbit gnocchi.
Thanks, says Elodie. We'll try it.
They head out to the HiLux.
I'm off, says Baby Pierre. He gets on his bike and zooms away, heading for Lake Clifton.
I wonder how long it'll take him to get there? says Elodie.
He should be there by Thursday, says Gaius. Even Wednesday, with a favourable wind.
He's plucky, and loyal too, says Elodie.
Not to us, says Sprocket.
Good point, says Gaius. I was depending on him to help me locate peacock spiders.
And he's meant to be directing my video, says Sprocket.
You'll have to do it yourself now, says Elodie.
Yep, says Sprocket.
They arrive at the Water's Edge Café, find a table and look at the menu.
Rabbit gnocchi for me, says Elodie.
Me too, says Sprocket.
I'll have the spaghetti,says Gaius. No wait! It comes with cherry tomatoes!
So what? says Sprocket.
Poison, says Gaius.
He orders rabbit gnocchi.
When the three rabbit gnocchis arrive at the table, Sprocket takes out his phone.
Ker-click. A photo of three rabbit gnocchis.
Elodie shakes her head.
Meanwhile Baby Pierre is cycling northwards, and thinking.
He thinks about what he will say when he gets to Lake Clifton and locates his friends. Perhaps they will blame him. But it wasn't his fault. Not entirely. Everyone forgot them. But he is the one turning up. He slows down, to think harder.
What would Ageless do? Ageless never takes the blame for anything. Ageless gets in first. Ageless would say to Mouldy and First Dirty and Second Dirty: Look what you've made me do.
Yes, look what they've made him do.
But hey ho.
Baby Pierre speeds up again.
He makes up a song of the road.
O road O road
Long and wide
O moon O moon
Round and green
Just the road
And the moon
And the wheels
And the soft gravel edges.
I recommend the Water's Edge Café, says Carolyn. They do a great rabbit gnocchi.
Thanks, says Elodie. We'll try it.
They head out to the HiLux.
I'm off, says Baby Pierre. He gets on his bike and zooms away, heading for Lake Clifton.
I wonder how long it'll take him to get there? says Elodie.
He should be there by Thursday, says Gaius. Even Wednesday, with a favourable wind.
He's plucky, and loyal too, says Elodie.
Not to us, says Sprocket.
Good point, says Gaius. I was depending on him to help me locate peacock spiders.
And he's meant to be directing my video, says Sprocket.
You'll have to do it yourself now, says Elodie.
Yep, says Sprocket.
They arrive at the Water's Edge Café, find a table and look at the menu.
Rabbit gnocchi for me, says Elodie.
Me too, says Sprocket.
I'll have the spaghetti,says Gaius. No wait! It comes with cherry tomatoes!
So what? says Sprocket.
Poison, says Gaius.
He orders rabbit gnocchi.
When the three rabbit gnocchis arrive at the table, Sprocket takes out his phone.
Ker-click. A photo of three rabbit gnocchis.
Elodie shakes her head.
Meanwhile Baby Pierre is cycling northwards, and thinking.
He thinks about what he will say when he gets to Lake Clifton and locates his friends. Perhaps they will blame him. But it wasn't his fault. Not entirely. Everyone forgot them. But he is the one turning up. He slows down, to think harder.
What would Ageless do? Ageless never takes the blame for anything. Ageless gets in first. Ageless would say to Mouldy and First Dirty and Second Dirty: Look what you've made me do.
Yes, look what they've made him do.
But hey ho.
Baby Pierre speeds up again.
He makes up a song of the road.
O road O road
Long and wide
O moon O moon
Round and green
Just the road
And the moon
And the wheels
And the soft gravel edges.
Sunday, April 21, 2019
Three Friends Left Behind
Baby Pierre wants to go back to Lake Clifton for Mouldy and First and Second Dirty.
Gaius won't hear of it.
They'll be quite happy there, says Gaius.
Elodie joins them.
Great glass art exhibition, says Elodie. I particularly loved the three glass bottles with black bands dividing the cracked dark brown tops from the cracked ochre bottoms.
Oh yes, says Carolyn. They're from our own collection. I love them too. The smooth glass finish contrasts with the cracked earth appearance below the surface.
Perhaps I should take a look, says Gaius.
I'm GOING! shouts Baby Pierre. If no one will take me I'll go on my bicycle!
Don't do that, says Elodie. What would you do when you got there?
Bring them here, says Baby Pierre. Or to wherever you are.
Impossible, says Elodie. They wouldn't all fit on your bike.
It's true.
Baby Pierre has a brainwave.
Arthur and David can pick them up on their way through!
I suppose I could ask them, says Gaius. I was about to send David a message. How shall I put it?
While you're doing that, says Carolyn, Sprocket and I will go back to my office to see if his phone's finished charging.
She goes. Sprocket follows her glumly.
Right, says Elodie. Message. What do we want them to do exactly?
Rescue my friends, says Baby Pierre.
How will Arthur and David know who they are?
They won't, says Baby Pierre. So I'll have to ride back to Lake Clifton to meet them. I'm the vital link in the rescue.
So you are, says Elodie. Are you sure you want to do this?
The question is, says Gaius, are we sure Arthur, David and Shu will want to do this? It's out of their way.
Ask them, says Elodie. Message all three of them. It'll seem more urgent.
Yes, says Gaius. David first: Dear David....
You don't need dear David, says Elodie. It's an SMS not an epistle.
What then? asks Gaius.
Just start, says Elodie. Write this: Urgent you stop off at Lake Clifton. Baby Pierre stranded. See you Lake Jasper Thursday. Exo.
Exo? says Gaius.
Kiss, hug, says Elodie. Maybe not.
Humph, says Gaius. Now for Arthur, Dear Arthur...no, simply Arthur......
Simply Arthur, says Elodie. Have asked David to stop off at Lake Clifton to pick up Baby Pierre, and three friends, possibly jaspers.
They're not jaspers, says Gaius.
No, they're not jaspers, says Baby Pierre.
This is for Arthur, says Elodie. He's more likely to do it if he thinks that they're jaspers.
All right, says Gaius. And I'm only saying possibly jaspers.
Good, says Elodie. Done. Now for the last one.
Shu, says Gaius. This is rather enjoyable. How should we put it to him?
Elodie thinks for a moment.
Something poetic.
The water darkens.
Three friends left behind
Wait for three friends to come to the rescue.
I'm not writing that, says Gaius. He may misinterpret the meaning.
Write this, says Baby Pierre. Baby Pierre will meet you on the Lake Clifton boardwalk at the third thrombolite on Thursday morning. Bring a container.
Very sensible, says Gaius. He writes that, and sends it.
Sprocket returns, with his phone.
Let's go, says Sprocket.
Tell us what she thought of your video, says Elodie.
No, says Sprocket.
Gaius won't hear of it.
They'll be quite happy there, says Gaius.
Elodie joins them.
Great glass art exhibition, says Elodie. I particularly loved the three glass bottles with black bands dividing the cracked dark brown tops from the cracked ochre bottoms.
Oh yes, says Carolyn. They're from our own collection. I love them too. The smooth glass finish contrasts with the cracked earth appearance below the surface.
Perhaps I should take a look, says Gaius.
I'm GOING! shouts Baby Pierre. If no one will take me I'll go on my bicycle!
Don't do that, says Elodie. What would you do when you got there?
Bring them here, says Baby Pierre. Or to wherever you are.
Impossible, says Elodie. They wouldn't all fit on your bike.
It's true.
Baby Pierre has a brainwave.
Arthur and David can pick them up on their way through!
I suppose I could ask them, says Gaius. I was about to send David a message. How shall I put it?
While you're doing that, says Carolyn, Sprocket and I will go back to my office to see if his phone's finished charging.
She goes. Sprocket follows her glumly.
Right, says Elodie. Message. What do we want them to do exactly?
Rescue my friends, says Baby Pierre.
How will Arthur and David know who they are?
They won't, says Baby Pierre. So I'll have to ride back to Lake Clifton to meet them. I'm the vital link in the rescue.
So you are, says Elodie. Are you sure you want to do this?
The question is, says Gaius, are we sure Arthur, David and Shu will want to do this? It's out of their way.
Ask them, says Elodie. Message all three of them. It'll seem more urgent.
Yes, says Gaius. David first: Dear David....
You don't need dear David, says Elodie. It's an SMS not an epistle.
What then? asks Gaius.
Just start, says Elodie. Write this: Urgent you stop off at Lake Clifton. Baby Pierre stranded. See you Lake Jasper Thursday. Exo.
Exo? says Gaius.
Kiss, hug, says Elodie. Maybe not.
Humph, says Gaius. Now for Arthur, Dear Arthur...no, simply Arthur......
Simply Arthur, says Elodie. Have asked David to stop off at Lake Clifton to pick up Baby Pierre, and three friends, possibly jaspers.
They're not jaspers, says Gaius.
No, they're not jaspers, says Baby Pierre.
This is for Arthur, says Elodie. He's more likely to do it if he thinks that they're jaspers.
All right, says Gaius. And I'm only saying possibly jaspers.
Good, says Elodie. Done. Now for the last one.
Shu, says Gaius. This is rather enjoyable. How should we put it to him?
Elodie thinks for a moment.
Something poetic.
The water darkens.
Three friends left behind
Wait for three friends to come to the rescue.
I'm not writing that, says Gaius. He may misinterpret the meaning.
Write this, says Baby Pierre. Baby Pierre will meet you on the Lake Clifton boardwalk at the third thrombolite on Thursday morning. Bring a container.
Very sensible, says Gaius. He writes that, and sends it.
Sprocket returns, with his phone.
Let's go, says Sprocket.
Tell us what she thought of your video, says Elodie.
No, says Sprocket.
Saturday, April 20, 2019
That's Modernity For You
Twelve minutes later, they pull up in Bunbury, outside the BRAG.
It's a charming old convent, painted pink.
It's open. They all go inside.
Sprocket goes off to find someone who's acquainted with his mother.
Elodie heads for the glass exhibition, in one of the rooms.
Baby Pierre follows her, on his bicycle.
Gaius stands in the foyer, checking his phone.
Nothing from Arthur.
But there is a message from David. Where do you expect to be on Thursday?
He starts to reply, when someone looms up behind him.
Hello, she says, I'm Carolyn, you must be Gaius. Sprocket said you'd be here.
Sprocket was correct, says Gaius. I am here.
He's been telling me about his artistic vision, says Carolyn. It seems your expedition has inspired him.
The gold paint was all his idea, says Gaius. I find it somewhat ridiculous. But that's modernity for you.
You don't like modernity? asks Carolyn. Let me show you around. It's our Biennale. I'm the curator.
How long will it take? asks Gaius.
How long have you got? asks Carolyn.
As long as it takes to recharge Sprocket's phone I suppose, says Gaius.
Good, says Carolyn. Come this way. You'll enjoy it. This year over half of our artists are women.
Very nice, says Gaius.
We had a lovely opening, says Carolyn. Intenso were playing.
You don't say, says Gaius.
They Fed The Gryphon With Their Limbs, says Carolyn. You know it?
Hmm, says Gaius, hoping this will suffice as an answer.
She hums the tune which is difficult, breaking the traditions of time signature, rhythm and chords.
I didn't mean you to hum it, says Gaius.
Ha ha, laughs Carolyn. I tried. Ah, there's Sprocket!
They have entered a room where a video is playing. THE TRIP.
Sprocket is staring hard at concentric circles in different colours revolving hypnotically while strange semi human figures appear and melt away inside it. Turning, walking, expanding, collapsing, to a sound track of voices.
This is cool, says Sprocket.
Yes, isn't it wonderful, says Carolyn.
Have you shown Carolyn your video? asks Gaius.
Sprocket looks annoyed. It's not finished.
Do let me see it, says Carolyn.
Haven't got it, says Sprocket. It's on my phone, in your office, charging.
Baby Pierre skids to a halt at their feet.
No bicycles allowed in the gallery, says Carolyn.
We left Mouldy and First and Second Dirty behind! cries Baby Pierre.
Dear me, says Gaius.
It's a charming old convent, painted pink.
It's open. They all go inside.
Sprocket goes off to find someone who's acquainted with his mother.
Elodie heads for the glass exhibition, in one of the rooms.
Baby Pierre follows her, on his bicycle.
Gaius stands in the foyer, checking his phone.
Nothing from Arthur.
But there is a message from David. Where do you expect to be on Thursday?
He starts to reply, when someone looms up behind him.
Hello, she says, I'm Carolyn, you must be Gaius. Sprocket said you'd be here.
Sprocket was correct, says Gaius. I am here.
He's been telling me about his artistic vision, says Carolyn. It seems your expedition has inspired him.
The gold paint was all his idea, says Gaius. I find it somewhat ridiculous. But that's modernity for you.
You don't like modernity? asks Carolyn. Let me show you around. It's our Biennale. I'm the curator.
How long will it take? asks Gaius.
How long have you got? asks Carolyn.
As long as it takes to recharge Sprocket's phone I suppose, says Gaius.
Good, says Carolyn. Come this way. You'll enjoy it. This year over half of our artists are women.
Very nice, says Gaius.
We had a lovely opening, says Carolyn. Intenso were playing.
You don't say, says Gaius.
They Fed The Gryphon With Their Limbs, says Carolyn. You know it?
Hmm, says Gaius, hoping this will suffice as an answer.
She hums the tune which is difficult, breaking the traditions of time signature, rhythm and chords.
I didn't mean you to hum it, says Gaius.
Ha ha, laughs Carolyn. I tried. Ah, there's Sprocket!
They have entered a room where a video is playing. THE TRIP.
Sprocket is staring hard at concentric circles in different colours revolving hypnotically while strange semi human figures appear and melt away inside it. Turning, walking, expanding, collapsing, to a sound track of voices.
This is cool, says Sprocket.
Yes, isn't it wonderful, says Carolyn.
Have you shown Carolyn your video? asks Gaius.
Sprocket looks annoyed. It's not finished.
Do let me see it, says Carolyn.
Haven't got it, says Sprocket. It's on my phone, in your office, charging.
Baby Pierre skids to a halt at their feet.
No bicycles allowed in the gallery, says Carolyn.
Dear me, says Gaius.
Friday, April 19, 2019
Kill For Spaghetti
One hour later.
Sprocket's toenails have dried.
He has explained his artistic vision to Baby Pierre in a video.
This took some time.
In the video:
Baby Pierre disputes that gold paint can be seen as a metaphor.
Sprocket says it can be seen as a surface distraction.
Baby Pierre says it can, but it isn't a metaphor.
Sprocket asks why.
Baby Pierre says a metaphor has to be concrete.
A distraction can be concrete, Sprocket replies.
Baby Pierre then remembers that Terence is made out of concrete.
He concedes that gold paint can be seen as a metaphor, in a roundabout way.
It helps that he is a free thinker.
The video is done, but Sprocket's phone is showing Low Battery.
Turn it off, says Sprocket. Try and get Elodie's attention.
Baby Pierre knows how to do this. He rolls about on the floor of the tray.
Elodie stops the HiLux.
Gaius gets out and comes round to the tray.
What's up? asks Gaius. Is there a problem?
Are we stopping in Bunbury? asks Sprocket.
I think not, says Gaius. We're going to push on to Lake Jasper.
I've run out of battery, says Sprocket. I could recharge it in Bunbury, and you guys could visit the BRAG.
What is the BRAG? asks Gaius.
It's the Bunbury Regional Art Gallery, says Sprocket. Grace knows the guys there.
What's up? asks Elodie.
He wants to stop in Bunbury, says Gaius.
So do I, says Elodie. I want to pop into the BRAG. There's an exhibition of glass art on there, that ends on Sunday.
Gaius is outnumbered, unless Baby Pierre wants to push on.
But no. Baby Pierre wants to visit the BRAG. He likes glass art.
(Who doesn't?)
It's called Alchemy, says Elodie.
No kidding, says Sprocket. The guy who owned this gold paint calls his performance Alchemic.
Woo! says Baby Pierre. A hidden connection.
It's not really hidden, says Elodie. It's almost the same word. Get in the cabin. I see your toenails have dried.
Yep, says Sprocket. But I might leave my shoes off.
Okay, says Elodie. We're twelve minutes from Bunbury. We'll visit the Gallery and you can charge up your phone, and then we'll get an early dinner, and head out to Lake Jasper.
Dinner! says Gaius. Another distraction!
But his stomach conflicts with his head.
Grumble grumble. It would kill for a plate of spaghetti.
Sprocket's toenails have dried.
He has explained his artistic vision to Baby Pierre in a video.
This took some time.
In the video:
Baby Pierre disputes that gold paint can be seen as a metaphor.
Sprocket says it can be seen as a surface distraction.
Baby Pierre says it can, but it isn't a metaphor.
Sprocket asks why.
Baby Pierre says a metaphor has to be concrete.
A distraction can be concrete, Sprocket replies.
Baby Pierre then remembers that Terence is made out of concrete.
He concedes that gold paint can be seen as a metaphor, in a roundabout way.
It helps that he is a free thinker.
The video is done, but Sprocket's phone is showing Low Battery.
Turn it off, says Sprocket. Try and get Elodie's attention.
Baby Pierre knows how to do this. He rolls about on the floor of the tray.
Elodie stops the HiLux.
Gaius gets out and comes round to the tray.
What's up? asks Gaius. Is there a problem?
Are we stopping in Bunbury? asks Sprocket.
I think not, says Gaius. We're going to push on to Lake Jasper.
I've run out of battery, says Sprocket. I could recharge it in Bunbury, and you guys could visit the BRAG.
What is the BRAG? asks Gaius.
It's the Bunbury Regional Art Gallery, says Sprocket. Grace knows the guys there.
What's up? asks Elodie.
He wants to stop in Bunbury, says Gaius.
So do I, says Elodie. I want to pop into the BRAG. There's an exhibition of glass art on there, that ends on Sunday.
Gaius is outnumbered, unless Baby Pierre wants to push on.
But no. Baby Pierre wants to visit the BRAG. He likes glass art.
(Who doesn't?)
It's called Alchemy, says Elodie.
No kidding, says Sprocket. The guy who owned this gold paint calls his performance Alchemic.
Woo! says Baby Pierre. A hidden connection.
It's not really hidden, says Elodie. It's almost the same word. Get in the cabin. I see your toenails have dried.
Yep, says Sprocket. But I might leave my shoes off.
Okay, says Elodie. We're twelve minutes from Bunbury. We'll visit the Gallery and you can charge up your phone, and then we'll get an early dinner, and head out to Lake Jasper.
Dinner! says Gaius. Another distraction!
But his stomach conflicts with his head.
Grumble grumble. It would kill for a plate of spaghetti.
Thursday, April 18, 2019
Gold Paint As A Metaphor
Gaius helps Baby Pierre onto the boardwalk.
Baby Pierre gets on his bike and zooms back to where Elodie and Sprocket are sitting.
Sprocket now has gold toenails.
Gaius returns, moments later.
Shall we get going?
Got to wait a bit, says Sprocket. I can't put my shoes on until this paint dries.
Tch! says Gaius. I was hoping to reach Lake Jasper by night fall.
Can you drive? asks Sprocket.
I tend not to, says Gaius.
I can, says Elodie. And I'd love to. You can sit in the back and dry your toenails as we're moving.
And I'll make a video, says Baby Pierre. So I'll have to go in the tray with Sprocket.
All right, says Gaius.
They get into the HiLux, and Elodie drives off smoothly.
Gaius sits beside her.
I guess Baby Pierre retrieved the date ball, says Elodie.
Not exactly, says Gaius. It was too far gone. Everything reverts to its constituent parts eventually, but dropping a date ball into water speeds up the process.
So you left it there? asks Elodie. Don't you feel awful?
No, says Gaius. Baby Pierre did the next best thing and kicked it to the bottom. By the way, he tells me the thrombolites thought the date ball contained sugar.
Only natural sugar, says Elodie. Would you like another?
No thank you, says Gaius. I've gone off them.
How come Baby Pierre knows what they thought? asks Elodie.
He had a conversation, says Gaius. About the meaning of life.
Like they would know, says Elodie. Likewise Sprocket.
I agree, says Gaius. Foolish question. I asked him to ask them how long they'd been there.
But you already knew the answer, says Elodie.
Exactly, says Gaius. How interesting it would be to discover that they knew it too.
Or that they didn't, says Elodie.
I suppose so, says Gaius.
They remain silent for ten minutes. The conversation has petered out, and neither of them wants a date ball.
In the tray, Sprocket is drying his toenails.
Baby Pierre is making a video of him doing it.
Sprocket therefore is drying his toenails in a flamboyant manner.
He is lying on his back, resting his gold painted toes on the edge of the tray.
It's borderline illegal.
Talk, says Baby Pierre. This is a video.
What about? asks Sprocket.
Your artistic vision, says Baby Pierre.
Yeah! Talk about his artistic vision.
Sprocket looks up at the fast moving sky, and the slow drying toenails.
There are hidden connections I want to explore, says Sprocket.
(This sounds authentic)
I decided to use discarded gold paint as a metaphor.
(This doesn't)
Baby Pierre gets on his bike and zooms back to where Elodie and Sprocket are sitting.
Sprocket now has gold toenails.
Gaius returns, moments later.
Shall we get going?
Got to wait a bit, says Sprocket. I can't put my shoes on until this paint dries.
Tch! says Gaius. I was hoping to reach Lake Jasper by night fall.
Can you drive? asks Sprocket.
I tend not to, says Gaius.
I can, says Elodie. And I'd love to. You can sit in the back and dry your toenails as we're moving.
And I'll make a video, says Baby Pierre. So I'll have to go in the tray with Sprocket.
All right, says Gaius.
They get into the HiLux, and Elodie drives off smoothly.
Gaius sits beside her.
I guess Baby Pierre retrieved the date ball, says Elodie.
Not exactly, says Gaius. It was too far gone. Everything reverts to its constituent parts eventually, but dropping a date ball into water speeds up the process.
So you left it there? asks Elodie. Don't you feel awful?
No, says Gaius. Baby Pierre did the next best thing and kicked it to the bottom. By the way, he tells me the thrombolites thought the date ball contained sugar.
Only natural sugar, says Elodie. Would you like another?
No thank you, says Gaius. I've gone off them.
How come Baby Pierre knows what they thought? asks Elodie.
He had a conversation, says Gaius. About the meaning of life.
Like they would know, says Elodie. Likewise Sprocket.
I agree, says Gaius. Foolish question. I asked him to ask them how long they'd been there.
But you already knew the answer, says Elodie.
Exactly, says Gaius. How interesting it would be to discover that they knew it too.
Or that they didn't, says Elodie.
I suppose so, says Gaius.
They remain silent for ten minutes. The conversation has petered out, and neither of them wants a date ball.
In the tray, Sprocket is drying his toenails.
Baby Pierre is making a video of him doing it.
Sprocket therefore is drying his toenails in a flamboyant manner.
He is lying on his back, resting his gold painted toes on the edge of the tray.
It's borderline illegal.
Talk, says Baby Pierre. This is a video.
What about? asks Sprocket.
Your artistic vision, says Baby Pierre.
Yeah! Talk about his artistic vision.
Sprocket looks up at the fast moving sky, and the slow drying toenails.
There are hidden connections I want to explore, says Sprocket.
(This sounds authentic)
I decided to use discarded gold paint as a metaphor.
(This doesn't)
Wednesday, April 17, 2019
Nevertheless We Know Sweetness
Who is this second intruder?
A new clot?
How to ask him this question?
~~~bloop~~~
It's me, says Baby Pierre. Here to retrieve the dropped date ball.
The crumbly insides of the thrombolite shudder.
Who will answer?
~~~bloop~~~ we will~~~~
Will what? says Baby Pierre. Just wait. You don't have to actually do anything.
~~~we will answer ~~~~
Shut up, says Baby Pierre. I can't see the date ball.
~~~it's dissolving~~~
I know! says Baby Pierre. I need to GATHER it.
~~~gather it~~~~
Baby Pierre can't gather it. It's all soft, and bits of date are breaking off it.
What if he kicks it?
He kicks it.
It falls through the water and settles on sand.
Now the adjoining thrombolite is bothered.
But not nearly as much.
Perhaps that's the best case scenario, says Baby Pierre. It's only one date ball.
Any luck? calls Gaius.
Get me up, says Baby Pierre. No wait! I'm having a conversation.
With the thrombolite? asks Gaius.
Yes, says Baby Pierre. It said it would answer.
Mercury's mandibles! says Gaius. Ask it..... errr....how long it's been there.
What a daft question, says Baby Pierre. I have a better question.
He asks it.
What is the meaning of life?
~~~what's in a date ball?~~~
Dates, says Baby Pierre. I guess you've never thought about the existential question.
~~~all the time; there must be more to it~~~
That's what I think, says Baby Pierre. It can't just be about leaving your mother who's gone all new ageist and only listens to the thoughts of the Omniscient Pebble.
~~~it has sugar in it~~~
Huh? says Baby Pierre.
~~~the date ball~~~
I don't think so, says Baby Pierre. Elodie said it was healthy.
~~~~nevertheless, we know sweetness~~
A few tiny filaments of coconut float by, unnoticed.
A new clot?
How to ask him this question?
~~~bloop~~~
It's me, says Baby Pierre. Here to retrieve the dropped date ball.
The crumbly insides of the thrombolite shudder.
Who will answer?
~~~bloop~~~ we will~~~~
Will what? says Baby Pierre. Just wait. You don't have to actually do anything.
~~~we will answer ~~~~
Shut up, says Baby Pierre. I can't see the date ball.
~~~it's dissolving~~~
I know! says Baby Pierre. I need to GATHER it.
~~~gather it~~~~
Baby Pierre can't gather it. It's all soft, and bits of date are breaking off it.
What if he kicks it?
He kicks it.
It falls through the water and settles on sand.
Now the adjoining thrombolite is bothered.
But not nearly as much.
Perhaps that's the best case scenario, says Baby Pierre. It's only one date ball.
Any luck? calls Gaius.
Get me up, says Baby Pierre. No wait! I'm having a conversation.
With the thrombolite? asks Gaius.
Yes, says Baby Pierre. It said it would answer.
Mercury's mandibles! says Gaius. Ask it..... errr....how long it's been there.
What a daft question, says Baby Pierre. I have a better question.
He asks it.
What is the meaning of life?
~~~what's in a date ball?~~~
Dates, says Baby Pierre. I guess you've never thought about the existential question.
~~~all the time; there must be more to it~~~
That's what I think, says Baby Pierre. It can't just be about leaving your mother who's gone all new ageist and only listens to the thoughts of the Omniscient Pebble.
~~~it has sugar in it~~~
Huh? says Baby Pierre.
~~~the date ball~~~
I don't think so, says Baby Pierre. Elodie said it was healthy.
~~~~nevertheless, we know sweetness~~
A few tiny filaments of coconut float by, unnoticed.
Tuesday, April 16, 2019
What Was It?
What's the much deeper question? asks Sprocket.
The same question backwards, says Baby Pierre.
In his head, Sprocket performs a reversal.
What's the life of meaning?
Good effort, says Baby Pierre. But it wasn't what I was thinking. More like, what WAS it?
What was it? asks Sprocket.
What you made it be, says Baby Pierre.
What did you make yours be? asks Sprocket.
Baby Pierre likes these sorts of conversations.
Independent, says Baby Pierre. But with strategic connections. What did you make yours be?
Forward looking, says Sprocket. Escape to the future. Being on YouTube.
That's where humans differ from pebbles, says Baby Pierre. We can look both ways.
I can look both ways, says Sprocket. What strategic connections?
Ageless lobster, says Baby Pierre. Kobo. Gaius. Maybe not Terence.
Who's Terence? asks Sprocket.
He's made of cement, and he looks like a baby. He wanted to come, says Baby Pierre. But he wasn't allowed to.
Elodie waves, from the boardwalk.
She's coming back.
She's saying something.
Go and help Gaius, says Elodie. He's dropped a date ball on top of a thrombolite. He's desperately trying to retrieve it.
I'll go, says Baby Pierre. Wait. Where's my bike?
In the back of the Hilux, says Sprocket.
He runs to get it.
Baby Pierre hops on his bicycle and roars down the boardwalk.
How come you've got a reverse question mark on your forehead? asks Elodie.
It means the life of meaning, says Sprocket. Reverse of the meaning of life.
Did you come up with that just now? asks Elodie. Well done you, Sprocket. Did Baby Pierre take a photo?
Don't think so, says Sprocket.
Baby Pierre rockets up to where Gaius is leaning over the edge of the boardwalk, and executes a stoppie.
Ah! says Gaius. Just the chap! I've dropped a date ball on a thrombolite.
How did you do it? asks Baby Pierre.
A series of unlucky events, says Gaius. You may remember, I had organic toast at lunch time. Not very filling. So I accepted a date ball from Elodie. She asked me a question about the clotted structure of thrombolites, to which I began to reply when suddenly, as I was uttering the word clotted, the date ball shot from my mouth and landed on a thrombolite directly below us. It was embarrassing, of course. But my main concern is the inadvertent pollution of their habitat.
Baby Pierre gazes down at the date ball on top of a thrombolite. The water around it is turning date brown.
Drop me in, says Baby Pierre.
What will you do? asks Gaius.
Watch me, says Baby Pierre. Just mind my bicycle.
Gaius drops Baby Pierre onto the thrombolite, next to the date ball.
Bloop~~thump!
The microbial communities of the thrombolite become aware of a second intruder.
The same question backwards, says Baby Pierre.
In his head, Sprocket performs a reversal.
What's the life of meaning?
Good effort, says Baby Pierre. But it wasn't what I was thinking. More like, what WAS it?
What was it? asks Sprocket.
What you made it be, says Baby Pierre.
What did you make yours be? asks Sprocket.
Baby Pierre likes these sorts of conversations.
Independent, says Baby Pierre. But with strategic connections. What did you make yours be?
Forward looking, says Sprocket. Escape to the future. Being on YouTube.
That's where humans differ from pebbles, says Baby Pierre. We can look both ways.
I can look both ways, says Sprocket. What strategic connections?
Ageless lobster, says Baby Pierre. Kobo. Gaius. Maybe not Terence.
Who's Terence? asks Sprocket.
He's made of cement, and he looks like a baby. He wanted to come, says Baby Pierre. But he wasn't allowed to.
Elodie waves, from the boardwalk.
She's coming back.
She's saying something.
Go and help Gaius, says Elodie. He's dropped a date ball on top of a thrombolite. He's desperately trying to retrieve it.
I'll go, says Baby Pierre. Wait. Where's my bike?
In the back of the Hilux, says Sprocket.
He runs to get it.
Baby Pierre hops on his bicycle and roars down the boardwalk.
How come you've got a reverse question mark on your forehead? asks Elodie.
It means the life of meaning, says Sprocket. Reverse of the meaning of life.
Did you come up with that just now? asks Elodie. Well done you, Sprocket. Did Baby Pierre take a photo?
Don't think so, says Sprocket.
Baby Pierre rockets up to where Gaius is leaning over the edge of the boardwalk, and executes a stoppie.
Ah! says Gaius. Just the chap! I've dropped a date ball on a thrombolite.
How did you do it? asks Baby Pierre.
A series of unlucky events, says Gaius. You may remember, I had organic toast at lunch time. Not very filling. So I accepted a date ball from Elodie. She asked me a question about the clotted structure of thrombolites, to which I began to reply when suddenly, as I was uttering the word clotted, the date ball shot from my mouth and landed on a thrombolite directly below us. It was embarrassing, of course. But my main concern is the inadvertent pollution of their habitat.
Baby Pierre gazes down at the date ball on top of a thrombolite. The water around it is turning date brown.
Drop me in, says Baby Pierre.
What will you do? asks Gaius.
Watch me, says Baby Pierre. Just mind my bicycle.
Gaius drops Baby Pierre onto the thrombolite, next to the date ball.
Bloop~~thump!
The microbial communities of the thrombolite become aware of a second intruder.
Monday, April 15, 2019
A Deeper Question
Lunch over, they climb into the HiLux and head south to Lake Clifton, where the thrombolites are.
It'll be a short stop-off, says Gaius.
No worries, says Sprocket. I've got stuff to think about.
A creative idea? asks Elodie.
Yeah, says Sprocket. Sort of.
Sounds promising, says Elodie. Yell out if you want to bounce any ideas off me.....
Or me, says Baby Pierre.
Not yet, says Sprocket.
They arrive at Lake Clifton.
Excellent! says Gaius. The water levels are low. Who'll come out on the boardwalk with me?
I will, says Elodie.
Not me, says Sprocket. I'll stay here, thinking.
I'm going in! says Mouldy.
Us too! say the Dirties.
Don't walk on the thrombolites, says Gaius. They're extremely rare living fossils, two thousand years old.
WE can walk on them, says Mouldy.
Heh-heh! laughs First Dirty. We're old as well.
I'm older than you, and I wouldn't walk on them, says Baby Pierre. I'll stay here with Sprocket, and take photos.
Of him thinking? says Elodie. Don't waste his phone battery.
He might think up something good, says Baby Pierre.
I might, says Sprocket.
Gaius and Elodie walk out onto the board walk, and look down on the rock-like formations.
The rock-like formations ignore them.
They gaze at each other, and listen to themselves making oxygen.
Bloop~~~bloop~~~
Thank you, thrombolites, says Elodie.
Indeed, says Gaius. We ought to thank them. They were among the first creatures on earth to produce oxygen. At least, their ancestors were.
Mm, says Elodie. This is magical. Sprocket should have come with us.
They turn and look back at Sprocket who is bending over something.
Something else glistens.
I hope it's not the knife he nicked from Café Moka, says Elodie.
He stole a knife? says Gaius. Whatever for, I wonder?
Probably to open the paint tin, says Elodie.
She is right. He is trying to open the paint tin.
Baby Pierre takes a photo.
Kruurp! The tin lid comes off.
Now what? says Baby Pierre.
You tell me, says Sprocket.
You don't have much imagination, do you, says Baby Pierre. I can think of a million ideas. Want one?
No, I've got one, says Sprocket.
He pokes a finger into the gold paint and paints a question mark on his own forehead.
Woo! says Baby Pierre. Does it mean something?
It means what is the meaning of life? says Sprocket.
What is it backwards? says Baby Pierre.
Why ask that? asks Sprocket.
Because you painted it back to front, says Baby Pierre. Don't worry, it's a much deeper question.
It'll be a short stop-off, says Gaius.
No worries, says Sprocket. I've got stuff to think about.
A creative idea? asks Elodie.
Yeah, says Sprocket. Sort of.
Sounds promising, says Elodie. Yell out if you want to bounce any ideas off me.....
Or me, says Baby Pierre.
Not yet, says Sprocket.
They arrive at Lake Clifton.
Excellent! says Gaius. The water levels are low. Who'll come out on the boardwalk with me?
I will, says Elodie.
Not me, says Sprocket. I'll stay here, thinking.
I'm going in! says Mouldy.
Us too! say the Dirties.
Don't walk on the thrombolites, says Gaius. They're extremely rare living fossils, two thousand years old.
WE can walk on them, says Mouldy.
Heh-heh! laughs First Dirty. We're old as well.
I'm older than you, and I wouldn't walk on them, says Baby Pierre. I'll stay here with Sprocket, and take photos.
Of him thinking? says Elodie. Don't waste his phone battery.
He might think up something good, says Baby Pierre.
I might, says Sprocket.
Gaius and Elodie walk out onto the board walk, and look down on the rock-like formations.
The rock-like formations ignore them.
They gaze at each other, and listen to themselves making oxygen.
Bloop~~~bloop~~~
Thank you, thrombolites, says Elodie.
Indeed, says Gaius. We ought to thank them. They were among the first creatures on earth to produce oxygen. At least, their ancestors were.
Mm, says Elodie. This is magical. Sprocket should have come with us.
They turn and look back at Sprocket who is bending over something.
Something else glistens.
I hope it's not the knife he nicked from Café Moka, says Elodie.
He stole a knife? says Gaius. Whatever for, I wonder?
Probably to open the paint tin, says Elodie.
She is right. He is trying to open the paint tin.
Baby Pierre takes a photo.
Kruurp! The tin lid comes off.
Now what? says Baby Pierre.
You tell me, says Sprocket.
You don't have much imagination, do you, says Baby Pierre. I can think of a million ideas. Want one?
No, I've got one, says Sprocket.
He pokes a finger into the gold paint and paints a question mark on his own forehead.
Woo! says Baby Pierre. Does it mean something?
It means what is the meaning of life? says Sprocket.
What is it backwards? says Baby Pierre.
Why ask that? asks Sprocket.
Because you painted it back to front, says Baby Pierre. Don't worry, it's a much deeper question.
Sunday, April 14, 2019
Kidnapped Gold Paint
The Hilux pulls up in Mandurah, at 2 Dolphin Drive.
Café Moka, says Sprocket. They do vegan options.
You a vegan? asks Elodie.
Nup, says Sprocket. Just saying. Bet you are.
They choose an outdoor table, for the view of the water.
Boats clink, and the sun shines on pristine ripples. Seagulls loiter.
This is pleasant, says Gaius. He looks at the menu. Hmm. Breakfasts are available until 3 pm. I'll have the organic toast.
I'm starved, says Elodie. I'll have the pearl couscous salad with poached egg.
Sprocket orders a steak sandwich with beetroot relish, horseradish and aioli.
They drink tap water, while they wait for the food.
Oop! Better get my wallet, says Elodie. It's in the back.
I'll come with you, says Sprocket.
They walk back to the HiLux together.
Ker-click. Baby Pierre takes a photo of the table.
No food yet, says Gaius. Why the photo?
It shows where we are, says Baby Pierre.
At an empty table, says Gaius. Could be anywhere.
Let me have the camera, says Mouldy.
He takes a photo of the marina, through a glass bottle.
Let's see, says First Dirty. That's good that is. Arty.
Sprocket's the one who's supposed to be arty, says Gaius. Ah, here comes my toast.
Here also come Elodie and Sprocket. They are talking.
Elodie: You should ring her.
Sprocket: She'll make me come back.
Elodie: Maybe you should.
Sprocket: No. I might want to use it.
What's this? asks Gaius. Trouble?
A tin of gold paint, says Elodie. It's in the back of the HiLux. It was meant for an art exhibition at PICA.
Gold paint, says Gaius. They'll be wondering where it's got to.
It's only a spare, says Sprocket. This guy paints himself with it. It's the body as a form of social sculpture or something.
Wow! says Baby Pierre.
Wow! echoes Mouldy. It's not clear if he's equally impressed or making fun of his rival.
For he sees Baby Pierre as a rival.
Look at this photo, says Mouldy. And this photo. Which one is best?
Sprocket looks at the photo of the empty table, and the photo of the marina though the glass bottle.
Then his steak sandwich arrives, an excuse for not making a judgement.
Because who cares anyway, thinks Sprocket, as beetroot relish dribbles down this chin. An arty idea is forming in the right hemisphere of his brain, involving the kidnapped gold paint. Or is it the left side? All he needs is a paintbrush. And probably a screwdriver to lever the lid off..... or a knife, yeah.....
He pockets a knife.
Café Moka, says Sprocket. They do vegan options.
You a vegan? asks Elodie.
Nup, says Sprocket. Just saying. Bet you are.
They choose an outdoor table, for the view of the water.
Boats clink, and the sun shines on pristine ripples. Seagulls loiter.
This is pleasant, says Gaius. He looks at the menu. Hmm. Breakfasts are available until 3 pm. I'll have the organic toast.
I'm starved, says Elodie. I'll have the pearl couscous salad with poached egg.
Sprocket orders a steak sandwich with beetroot relish, horseradish and aioli.
They drink tap water, while they wait for the food.
Oop! Better get my wallet, says Elodie. It's in the back.
I'll come with you, says Sprocket.
They walk back to the HiLux together.
Ker-click. Baby Pierre takes a photo of the table.
No food yet, says Gaius. Why the photo?
It shows where we are, says Baby Pierre.
At an empty table, says Gaius. Could be anywhere.
Let me have the camera, says Mouldy.
He takes a photo of the marina, through a glass bottle.
Let's see, says First Dirty. That's good that is. Arty.
Sprocket's the one who's supposed to be arty, says Gaius. Ah, here comes my toast.
Here also come Elodie and Sprocket. They are talking.
Elodie: You should ring her.
Sprocket: She'll make me come back.
Elodie: Maybe you should.
Sprocket: No. I might want to use it.
What's this? asks Gaius. Trouble?
A tin of gold paint, says Elodie. It's in the back of the HiLux. It was meant for an art exhibition at PICA.
Gold paint, says Gaius. They'll be wondering where it's got to.
It's only a spare, says Sprocket. This guy paints himself with it. It's the body as a form of social sculpture or something.
Wow! says Baby Pierre.
Wow! echoes Mouldy. It's not clear if he's equally impressed or making fun of his rival.
For he sees Baby Pierre as a rival.
Look at this photo, says Mouldy. And this photo. Which one is best?
Sprocket looks at the photo of the empty table, and the photo of the marina though the glass bottle.
Then his steak sandwich arrives, an excuse for not making a judgement.
Because who cares anyway, thinks Sprocket, as beetroot relish dribbles down this chin. An arty idea is forming in the right hemisphere of his brain, involving the kidnapped gold paint. Or is it the left side? All he needs is a paintbrush. And probably a screwdriver to lever the lid off..... or a knife, yeah.....
He pockets a knife.
Saturday, April 13, 2019
Vaguely Artistic
Okay, says Sprocket. All set? First stop Mandurah.
Mandurah? says Gaius.
Lunch, says Sprocket. Mandurah's less than an hour away, Lake Jasper's over three hundred k.
All right, says Gaius. I expect we'll all feel a bit peckish shortly.
I feel peckish now, says Sprocket.
Have a date ball, says Elodie.
She whips out a packet of date balls. Offers one to Sprocket.
He takes one. His phone rings.
That'll be Grace, says Sprocket. Checking up on me.
Want me to talk to her? asks Elodie.
Yeah okay, says Sprocket. He chucks the phone to the back, Elodie grabs it.
Too late, says Elodie. Missed call. I'll keep it in case she calls back.
Can I have it? asks Baby Pierre. Sprocket wants to make a documentary.
What? says Sprocket.
He says you want to make a documentary, says Gaius.
Not right now, says Sprocket.
I'll do it, while he's driving , says Baby Pierre. I'll take photos and even make videos.
Brilliant, says Elodie. Okay with that, Sprocket?
Sprocket sighs.
Why not? At least Grace will see he's done something vaguely artistic.
Yep, says Sprocket. Hey, any more date balls?
Elodie hands him a second date ball. Chomp. Ker-click.
First photo, an artistic shot of the rear view mirror, with the top of Sprocket's head, as he is eating a date ball.
Let's see, says Elodie.
Baby Pierre shows her.
A video would've been better, says Elodie. His head would have moved up and down. Or you should've got up higher, and angled it down, kind of.
The phone rings again.
Hello, Sprocket's phone, says Elodie. Hello Grace. Yes, via Mandurah. Going to have lunch there. Café Moka? Sounds awesome. Okay. No. He's eating a date ball. Yes, heaps of photos. Bye now.
She didn't need to know I was eating a date ball, says Sprocket.
I thought she might be pleased to know you're eating healthy, says Elodie.
Yeah right, says Sprocket. Did she ask about water?
No, says Elodie. Have we got any?
No, says Gaius. I thought you....
No, says Sprocket. We'll get some in Mandurah.
Interesting place, Mandurah, says Gaius, looking up from his phone. Abundant wildlife and migratory shorebirds. Dolphins. And half an hour further south, Yalgorup National Park is home to thrombolites. We must stop there.
Thrombolites, says Elodie. Not strombolites?
No, thrombolites, says Gaius.
He leans round the seat to explain the difference to Elodie. A difference in structure.
Ker-click, whirr. Baby Pierre makes a short video of the top of Sprocket's head registering the difference.
Mandurah? says Gaius.
Lunch, says Sprocket. Mandurah's less than an hour away, Lake Jasper's over three hundred k.
All right, says Gaius. I expect we'll all feel a bit peckish shortly.
I feel peckish now, says Sprocket.
Have a date ball, says Elodie.
She whips out a packet of date balls. Offers one to Sprocket.
He takes one. His phone rings.
That'll be Grace, says Sprocket. Checking up on me.
Want me to talk to her? asks Elodie.
Yeah okay, says Sprocket. He chucks the phone to the back, Elodie grabs it.
Too late, says Elodie. Missed call. I'll keep it in case she calls back.
Can I have it? asks Baby Pierre. Sprocket wants to make a documentary.
What? says Sprocket.
He says you want to make a documentary, says Gaius.
Not right now, says Sprocket.
I'll do it, while he's driving , says Baby Pierre. I'll take photos and even make videos.
Brilliant, says Elodie. Okay with that, Sprocket?
Sprocket sighs.
Why not? At least Grace will see he's done something vaguely artistic.
Yep, says Sprocket. Hey, any more date balls?
Elodie hands him a second date ball. Chomp. Ker-click.
First photo, an artistic shot of the rear view mirror, with the top of Sprocket's head, as he is eating a date ball.
Let's see, says Elodie.
Baby Pierre shows her.
A video would've been better, says Elodie. His head would have moved up and down. Or you should've got up higher, and angled it down, kind of.
The phone rings again.
Hello, Sprocket's phone, says Elodie. Hello Grace. Yes, via Mandurah. Going to have lunch there. Café Moka? Sounds awesome. Okay. No. He's eating a date ball. Yes, heaps of photos. Bye now.
She didn't need to know I was eating a date ball, says Sprocket.
I thought she might be pleased to know you're eating healthy, says Elodie.
Yeah right, says Sprocket. Did she ask about water?
No, says Elodie. Have we got any?
No, says Gaius. I thought you....
No, says Sprocket. We'll get some in Mandurah.
Interesting place, Mandurah, says Gaius, looking up from his phone. Abundant wildlife and migratory shorebirds. Dolphins. And half an hour further south, Yalgorup National Park is home to thrombolites. We must stop there.
Thrombolites, says Elodie. Not strombolites?
No, thrombolites, says Gaius.
He leans round the seat to explain the difference to Elodie. A difference in structure.
Ker-click, whirr. Baby Pierre makes a short video of the top of Sprocket's head registering the difference.
Friday, April 12, 2019
Might Be Jasper
Gaius and Elodie come out of the motel with their back packs.
Apologies for taking so long, says Gaius.
They wanted us to pay extra, says Elodie. Because the pool was dirty.
Ridiculous, says Gaius. Three swallows don't make a summer.
I don't get it, says Sprocket. Was there bird shit in the pool? And how come you had to pay for it?
We refused to pay for it, says Gaius.
Not your swallows? says Sprocket.
They weren't even swallows, says Elodie. They were Baby Pierre and his friends.
I wasn't dirty, protests Baby Pierre.
I know, says Gaius. That's why my comparison was apt. Had you been dirty I should have said four swallows don't make a summer.
I think, says Elodie, that four swallows might hint at a summer.
Perhaps you're right, Elodie, says Gaius. What do you think Sprocket?
Derr, says Sprocket.
Come on, Sprocket, says Elodie. You can do better.
Give me a clue, says Sprocket.
Four somethings that don't make a something, says Elodie.
But Sprocket can't think of four anythings that don't make a something.
I'll get back to you, says Sprocket. Shove your stuff in the tray. Wait a second.
He presses a button.
The tray cover goes up.
Cool yeah?
Gaius and Elodie throw their back packs in, climb into the HiLux and do up their seat belts.
Just a minute, says Gaius. Something feels uncomfortable.
He pulls Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty from his pocket.
The three swallows, says Gaius.
We heard you, says Mouldy. And we didn't like it. It was wrong on so many levels.
Was it them? asks Sprocket.
Yes, says Gaius. I begin to regret my analogy.
What're they made of? asks Sprocket.
Probably just sandstone, says Gaius.
Sprocket looks at the pool-washed pinky-red pebbles.
Might be jasper, says Sprocket.
I don't think so, says Gaius. What makes you think so?
Seen it before, says Sprocket. Jasper's cool. You can make jewellery of it.
Arty, says Elodie.
That's me, says Sprocket. And I'm still thinking.
About the four somethings? asks Elodie.
Yep, says Sprocket.
We're jasper, says Mouldy. Hear that?
He said might be, says Baby Pierre. Might be jasper. Three words do not jasper make.
Gaius is the only one besides Baby Pierre who thinks this is witty.
Apologies for taking so long, says Gaius.
They wanted us to pay extra, says Elodie. Because the pool was dirty.
Ridiculous, says Gaius. Three swallows don't make a summer.
I don't get it, says Sprocket. Was there bird shit in the pool? And how come you had to pay for it?
We refused to pay for it, says Gaius.
Not your swallows? says Sprocket.
They weren't even swallows, says Elodie. They were Baby Pierre and his friends.
I wasn't dirty, protests Baby Pierre.
I know, says Gaius. That's why my comparison was apt. Had you been dirty I should have said four swallows don't make a summer.
I think, says Elodie, that four swallows might hint at a summer.
Perhaps you're right, Elodie, says Gaius. What do you think Sprocket?
Derr, says Sprocket.
Come on, Sprocket, says Elodie. You can do better.
Give me a clue, says Sprocket.
Four somethings that don't make a something, says Elodie.
But Sprocket can't think of four anythings that don't make a something.
I'll get back to you, says Sprocket. Shove your stuff in the tray. Wait a second.
He presses a button.
The tray cover goes up.
Cool yeah?
Gaius and Elodie throw their back packs in, climb into the HiLux and do up their seat belts.
Just a minute, says Gaius. Something feels uncomfortable.
He pulls Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty from his pocket.
The three swallows, says Gaius.
We heard you, says Mouldy. And we didn't like it. It was wrong on so many levels.
Was it them? asks Sprocket.
Yes, says Gaius. I begin to regret my analogy.
What're they made of? asks Sprocket.
Probably just sandstone, says Gaius.
Sprocket looks at the pool-washed pinky-red pebbles.
Might be jasper, says Sprocket.
I don't think so, says Gaius. What makes you think so?
Seen it before, says Sprocket. Jasper's cool. You can make jewellery of it.
Arty, says Elodie.
That's me, says Sprocket. And I'm still thinking.
About the four somethings? asks Elodie.
Yep, says Sprocket.
We're jasper, says Mouldy. Hear that?
He said might be, says Baby Pierre. Might be jasper. Three words do not jasper make.
Gaius is the only one besides Baby Pierre who thinks this is witty.
Thursday, April 11, 2019
Picturing Mother
Certain things have been decided.
They will leave for Lake Jasper at once, and not wait until Thursday.
Grace will pay half of the petrol.
Sprocket will drive.
Very good, says Gaius. We'll go back to our motel and gather our belongings.
I'll drive you, says Sprocket.
Thanks, says Elodie.
Best of luck with the spider venture, says Grace, waving them out of her office.
Take care! she shouts after Sprocket.
And then, Sprocky! Car keys!
Sprocket goes back for the car keys.
He leads them through to a car park, where they see the vehicle for the first time.
It's a Toyota HiLux Rugged X, says Sprocket. Great for the outback.
It looks brand new,
Wow. We lucked out, says Elodie.
Sprocket and Gaius sit in the front. Elodie in the back, with Baby Pierre and his bicycle.
Baby Pierre doesn't like the smell of the Toyota HiLux. He doesn't like anything. He thought he would be here until Thursday, making a movie. Now he has to help Sprocket Swan to be famous.
Gaius is talking to Sprocket.
It was a well known story, says Gaius. My friends made it into a play. I played the Old Lady.
Was she a controller? asks Sprocket.
I don't think so, says Gaius. I didn't play her that way. She was a comic character who had suffered a series of misfortunes. Daughter of a pope, captured by pirates, sold to a captain of the Sultan's guard, lost one buttock during a siege...
Great story isn't it, says Elodie, from the back seat.
How'd she lose it? asks Sprocket.
The soldiers were starving, says Gaius.
Sicko, says Sprocket.
It was a kindness, says Gaius. One buttock sliced from each lady of the captain's harem. Better than killing one or two of them outright.
Very even handed, says Elodie. Don't you think?
Sprocket tries to get his head around whether or not the action was even handed.
He imagines the scene. He imagines it starring his mother.
Proclaiming her rights as a woman. While a soldier approaches.....
Stop! says Gaius. We're here.
Sprocket stops. Gaius and Elodie enter Bailey's Motel to recover their things.
Baby Pierre stays in the back seat.
Have you got a camera? asks Baby Pierre.
In my phone, says Sprocket.
You should film this trip, says Baby Pierre.
Do you reckon the women were starving? asks Sprocket.
What women? asks Baby Pierre.
The ones in the story, says Sprocket.
I wasn't listening, says Baby Pierre. I was thinking about how bad this car smells.
It's new, says Sprocket. It's a new smell. Some people like it.
I don't like it, says Baby Pierre.
Hold your nose and breathe through your mouth, says Sprocket.
You're not my mother, says Baby Pierre.
Silence, while both of them picture their mothers.
They will leave for Lake Jasper at once, and not wait until Thursday.
Grace will pay half of the petrol.
Sprocket will drive.
Very good, says Gaius. We'll go back to our motel and gather our belongings.
I'll drive you, says Sprocket.
Thanks, says Elodie.
Best of luck with the spider venture, says Grace, waving them out of her office.
Take care! she shouts after Sprocket.
And then, Sprocky! Car keys!
Sprocket goes back for the car keys.
He leads them through to a car park, where they see the vehicle for the first time.
It's a Toyota HiLux Rugged X, says Sprocket. Great for the outback.
It looks brand new,
Wow. We lucked out, says Elodie.
Sprocket and Gaius sit in the front. Elodie in the back, with Baby Pierre and his bicycle.
Baby Pierre doesn't like the smell of the Toyota HiLux. He doesn't like anything. He thought he would be here until Thursday, making a movie. Now he has to help Sprocket Swan to be famous.
Gaius is talking to Sprocket.
It was a well known story, says Gaius. My friends made it into a play. I played the Old Lady.
Was she a controller? asks Sprocket.
I don't think so, says Gaius. I didn't play her that way. She was a comic character who had suffered a series of misfortunes. Daughter of a pope, captured by pirates, sold to a captain of the Sultan's guard, lost one buttock during a siege...
Great story isn't it, says Elodie, from the back seat.
How'd she lose it? asks Sprocket.
The soldiers were starving, says Gaius.
Sicko, says Sprocket.
It was a kindness, says Gaius. One buttock sliced from each lady of the captain's harem. Better than killing one or two of them outright.
Very even handed, says Elodie. Don't you think?
Sprocket tries to get his head around whether or not the action was even handed.
He imagines the scene. He imagines it starring his mother.
Proclaiming her rights as a woman. While a soldier approaches.....
Stop! says Gaius. We're here.
Sprocket stops. Gaius and Elodie enter Bailey's Motel to recover their things.
Baby Pierre stays in the back seat.
Have you got a camera? asks Baby Pierre.
In my phone, says Sprocket.
You should film this trip, says Baby Pierre.
Do you reckon the women were starving? asks Sprocket.
What women? asks Baby Pierre.
The ones in the story, says Sprocket.
I wasn't listening, says Baby Pierre. I was thinking about how bad this car smells.
It's new, says Sprocket. It's a new smell. Some people like it.
I don't like it, says Baby Pierre.
Hold your nose and breathe through your mouth, says Sprocket.
You're not my mother, says Baby Pierre.
Silence, while both of them picture their mothers.
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Sprocket Swan
Next morning.
Grace Swan is at work in her office.
Buzz!
Grace, some people to see you.
Is there a small pebble on a bicycle with them?
Yes, there is.
Send them through, please.
The door opens. Baby Pierre zooms in.
Followed by Gaius and Elodie.
Good morning, says Grace. I'm glad you decided to come.
Good morning, says Gaius. You have a proposition?
I do, answers Grace. How would Baby Pierre feel about working for me?
Ready, says Baby Pierre.
He's ready, says Gaius. But he only has until Thursday.
I heard you were going to Lake Jasper on Thursday, says Grace.
That's right, says Gaius. We shall be looking for spiders.
Is it a movie? asks Baby Pierre.
No, says Grace. But I guess Sprocket might decide to film it.
Sprocket? says Elodie. Who's Sprocket? An artist?
My son, says Grace. Sprocket Swan. An aspiring artist. Here at PICA we support innovative new art practices, and Sprocket wants to qualify for a Minderoo.
What does he do exactly? asks Elodie.
Nothing, says Grace. That's why I though he might tag along with you people to Lake Jasper and see what eventuates. He's keen as mustard of course. And as a thank you, I'd lend you a vehicle.
Great, says Elodie. Where is Sprocket?
I'll just message him, says Grace. He'll be here in a minute.
This is most kind, says Gaius. What does Baby Pierre have to do though?
Yes, says Baby Pierre. I could pose for a statue. Or do a performance riding through webs.
Save your ideas and run them by Sprocket, says Grace. Shall we have a coffee while we're waiting?
Yes.
Grace orders coffees.
Is it just the three of you? asks Grace.
No, says Gaius. We'll be joined by David Hume, Sikong Shu and my right hand man, Arthur.
A philosopher and two poets, says Elodie.
And my friends, says Baby Pierre. Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty.
Colourful! says Grace.
Don't get your hopes up, says Elodie. They look pretty ordinary after their dip in the pool.
Grumbles and dissent are heard from the depths of Gaius's pocket.
The coffees arrive, carried in by a young man who could be a Swan.
Yes, indeed, it is the said Sprocket.
He plonks the coffees down on Grace's desk.
Howdy. This them?
Yes, Sprocky, says Grace. Gaius, Elodie and Baby Pierre. I think you'll find much to inspire you.
Sprocky looks at the team he's expected to be inspired by.
A man in green crocs and chinos with an active pocket.
A young woman with a confident air.
A pebble with a mysterious marking (a claw? a tulip?) on a tiny bicycle, looking at him strangely.
He envisions a collaboration, resulting in recognition, resulting in an opening into the contemporary art world.
He sees an exhibition, with his name on, sponsored by Minderoo.
All kind of hazy and woolly at this stage.
Let's do this, says Sprocket.
His mother smiles fondly.
Grace Swan is at work in her office.
Buzz!
Grace, some people to see you.
Is there a small pebble on a bicycle with them?
Yes, there is.
Send them through, please.
The door opens. Baby Pierre zooms in.
Followed by Gaius and Elodie.
Good morning, says Grace. I'm glad you decided to come.
Good morning, says Gaius. You have a proposition?
I do, answers Grace. How would Baby Pierre feel about working for me?
Ready, says Baby Pierre.
He's ready, says Gaius. But he only has until Thursday.
I heard you were going to Lake Jasper on Thursday, says Grace.
That's right, says Gaius. We shall be looking for spiders.
Is it a movie? asks Baby Pierre.
No, says Grace. But I guess Sprocket might decide to film it.
Sprocket? says Elodie. Who's Sprocket? An artist?
My son, says Grace. Sprocket Swan. An aspiring artist. Here at PICA we support innovative new art practices, and Sprocket wants to qualify for a Minderoo.
What does he do exactly? asks Elodie.
Nothing, says Grace. That's why I though he might tag along with you people to Lake Jasper and see what eventuates. He's keen as mustard of course. And as a thank you, I'd lend you a vehicle.
Great, says Elodie. Where is Sprocket?
I'll just message him, says Grace. He'll be here in a minute.
This is most kind, says Gaius. What does Baby Pierre have to do though?
Yes, says Baby Pierre. I could pose for a statue. Or do a performance riding through webs.
Save your ideas and run them by Sprocket, says Grace. Shall we have a coffee while we're waiting?
Yes.
Grace orders coffees.
Is it just the three of you? asks Grace.
No, says Gaius. We'll be joined by David Hume, Sikong Shu and my right hand man, Arthur.
A philosopher and two poets, says Elodie.
And my friends, says Baby Pierre. Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty.
Colourful! says Grace.
Don't get your hopes up, says Elodie. They look pretty ordinary after their dip in the pool.
Grumbles and dissent are heard from the depths of Gaius's pocket.
The coffees arrive, carried in by a young man who could be a Swan.
Yes, indeed, it is the said Sprocket.
He plonks the coffees down on Grace's desk.
Howdy. This them?
Yes, Sprocky, says Grace. Gaius, Elodie and Baby Pierre. I think you'll find much to inspire you.
Sprocky looks at the team he's expected to be inspired by.
A man in green crocs and chinos with an active pocket.
A young woman with a confident air.
A pebble with a mysterious marking (a claw? a tulip?) on a tiny bicycle, looking at him strangely.
He envisions a collaboration, resulting in recognition, resulting in an opening into the contemporary art world.
He sees an exhibition, with his name on, sponsored by Minderoo.
All kind of hazy and woolly at this stage.
Let's do this, says Sprocket.
His mother smiles fondly.
Tuesday, April 9, 2019
Living Under The Fig Tree
Come on, says Elodie. Early bed time.
Baby Pierre is embarrassed.
Mouldy is laughing.
I might stay out a bit longer, says Baby Pierre.
Who are your friends? enquires Gaius.
Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty, says Baby Pierre.
And they believe they are spiders, says Gaius. Remarkable.
We're just acting, says Second Dirty. We know we're pebbles.
Yeah, helpful pebbles, says Mouldy.
Yeah, says First Dirty.
We have an appointment first thing in the morning, says Elodie. So we really must get going.
Okay, says Baby Pierre. He picks up his bike.
Wait, says Mouldy. Can we come?
Yes, come, says Baby Pierre. We're staying at Bailey's Motel. There's a swimming pool.
I don't think they'll want pebbles in the swimming pool, says Elodie.
We wouldn't go in the swimming pool, says First Dirty.
No, we wouldn't, says Second Dirty. We'd practise being spiders with Baby Pierre. We could hide in the change rooms.
Don't TELL me, says Baby Pierre.
In a pot plant, says Mouldy.
I don't think so, says Elodie.
But Gaius is intrigued by Baby Pierre's new found friends.
And Elodie doesn't make all the decisions.
He picks up the pebbles.
.....
Later that evening.
Gaius questions the pebbles.
Gaius: How long have you lived under the fig tree?
Mouldy: Not very long.
Gaius: What are your earliest memories?
Second Dirty: Shall I answer this one?
Mouldy: Go on.
Second Dirty: Pebble Beach, on the North West Cape, coral reef, colourful fishes, migratory whale sharks.
First Dirty: I remember! Sheer red cliffs, red rocky gorges!
Mouldy: Tidal pools and marine turtles.
Gaius: Fascinating. How would you like to have a swim in the swimming pool? Get cleaned up. I'm sure no one will mind.
Elodie: It's on your head, Gaius.
Baby Pierre: Woo! We're allowed to! Come on guys!
They all go swimming, in the dark glinting pool.
When they come out even Baby Pierre looks cleaner.
Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty are now reddish pink.
Probably sandstone.
Baby Pierre is embarrassed.
Mouldy is laughing.
I might stay out a bit longer, says Baby Pierre.
Who are your friends? enquires Gaius.
Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty, says Baby Pierre.
And they believe they are spiders, says Gaius. Remarkable.
We're just acting, says Second Dirty. We know we're pebbles.
Yeah, helpful pebbles, says Mouldy.
Yeah, says First Dirty.
We have an appointment first thing in the morning, says Elodie. So we really must get going.
Okay, says Baby Pierre. He picks up his bike.
Wait, says Mouldy. Can we come?
Yes, come, says Baby Pierre. We're staying at Bailey's Motel. There's a swimming pool.
I don't think they'll want pebbles in the swimming pool, says Elodie.
We wouldn't go in the swimming pool, says First Dirty.
No, we wouldn't, says Second Dirty. We'd practise being spiders with Baby Pierre. We could hide in the change rooms.
Don't TELL me, says Baby Pierre.
In a pot plant, says Mouldy.
I don't think so, says Elodie.
But Gaius is intrigued by Baby Pierre's new found friends.
And Elodie doesn't make all the decisions.
He picks up the pebbles.
.....
Later that evening.
Gaius questions the pebbles.
Gaius: How long have you lived under the fig tree?
Mouldy: Not very long.
Gaius: What are your earliest memories?
Second Dirty: Shall I answer this one?
Mouldy: Go on.
Second Dirty: Pebble Beach, on the North West Cape, coral reef, colourful fishes, migratory whale sharks.
First Dirty: I remember! Sheer red cliffs, red rocky gorges!
Mouldy: Tidal pools and marine turtles.
Gaius: Fascinating. How would you like to have a swim in the swimming pool? Get cleaned up. I'm sure no one will mind.
Elodie: It's on your head, Gaius.
Baby Pierre: Woo! We're allowed to! Come on guys!
They all go swimming, in the dark glinting pool.
When they come out even Baby Pierre looks cleaner.
Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty are now reddish pink.
Probably sandstone.
Monday, April 8, 2019
A Mating Dance
Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty take their spider roles seriously.
They hide under detritus.
Baby Pierre cycles by.
You missed us, calls First Dirty.
On purpose, says Baby Pierre. If I found you straight away it would be a short movie.
Do you want us to move? asks Mouldy.
No, stay there, says Baby Pierre. I'll go round again.
That's one good thing about a fig tree.
This time I'm stopping, says Baby Pierre.
Do a stoppie, says Second Dirty.
I was going to, says Baby Pierre. I don't need you to tell me.
You wanted feedback, says Second Dirty.
That's not feedback, says Baby Pierre. That's a suggestion.
Since when did feedback preclude a suggestion?
But Second Dirty says nothing.
Baby Pierre rounds the fig tree and stops with a stoppie.
Ruuurch! A good one.
He expects to get feedback. He waits.
Nothing.
How was that? asks Baby Pierre.
Nothing.
He gets off his bike.
He rummages around in the detritus.
BOO! says Mouldy.
As if! says Baby Pierre.
What, then? says Mouldy. You didn't tell us.
Not BOO, says Baby Pierre. You're a tiny spider with colourful markings. You stay hiding. Or you do a mating dance with each other.
No way! says First Dirty.
Well, just stay hiding, says Baby Pierre. I'll make up some dialogue.
They hide.
Baby Pierre tiptoes up to where he now knows they are hiding.
He is thinking up dialogue. If this was really happening, what would he say?
Probably nothing, in order not to alert the spiders, who might run away.
He thinks that when he sees Grace Swan in the morning he might suggest a voice-over.
There! Under the fig tree! His bicycle!
Well spotted!
It's Elodie and Gaius. They have finished their Italian dinner and come over the road to find him.
Did you fall off?
No, says Baby Pierre. I never fall off.
Heh heh!
I hear laughter, says Gaius. Is someone else out here?
Yes we are, says Mouldy, emerging. We're the spiders. He's trying to find us. We're not allowed to give him suggestions.
This is clearly ridiculous.
Gaius wonders if someone in the restaurant spiked his drink.
They hide under detritus.
Baby Pierre cycles by.
You missed us, calls First Dirty.
On purpose, says Baby Pierre. If I found you straight away it would be a short movie.
Do you want us to move? asks Mouldy.
No, stay there, says Baby Pierre. I'll go round again.
That's one good thing about a fig tree.
This time I'm stopping, says Baby Pierre.
Do a stoppie, says Second Dirty.
I was going to, says Baby Pierre. I don't need you to tell me.
You wanted feedback, says Second Dirty.
That's not feedback, says Baby Pierre. That's a suggestion.
Since when did feedback preclude a suggestion?
But Second Dirty says nothing.
Baby Pierre rounds the fig tree and stops with a stoppie.
Ruuurch! A good one.
He expects to get feedback. He waits.
Nothing.
How was that? asks Baby Pierre.
Nothing.
He gets off his bike.
He rummages around in the detritus.
BOO! says Mouldy.
As if! says Baby Pierre.
What, then? says Mouldy. You didn't tell us.
Not BOO, says Baby Pierre. You're a tiny spider with colourful markings. You stay hiding. Or you do a mating dance with each other.
No way! says First Dirty.
Well, just stay hiding, says Baby Pierre. I'll make up some dialogue.
They hide.
Baby Pierre tiptoes up to where he now knows they are hiding.
He is thinking up dialogue. If this was really happening, what would he say?
Probably nothing, in order not to alert the spiders, who might run away.
He thinks that when he sees Grace Swan in the morning he might suggest a voice-over.
There! Under the fig tree! His bicycle!
Well spotted!
It's Elodie and Gaius. They have finished their Italian dinner and come over the road to find him.
Did you fall off?
No, says Baby Pierre. I never fall off.
Heh heh!
I hear laughter, says Gaius. Is someone else out here?
Yes we are, says Mouldy, emerging. We're the spiders. He's trying to find us. We're not allowed to give him suggestions.
This is clearly ridiculous.
Gaius wonders if someone in the restaurant spiked his drink.
Sunday, April 7, 2019
Bike Trick Language
Seven ten pm. The park beckons.
Baby Pierre zooms across the road.
He cycles down a footpath, until he bumps into a wall.
But no. It isn't a wall. And it wasn't a footpath.
Baby Pierre has come off. He hopes no one was watching.
No chance. Pebbles are always watching.
Always on the lookout for other pebbles. Pebbles with hubris.
Come off? asks a mouldy pebble.
Stoppie, says Baby Pierre.
What language is that? asks the mouldy pebble.
Bike trick language, says Baby Pierre. Stoppies are endos.
You crashed into a Moreton Bay fig tree, says the mouldy pebble. Admit it.
Okay, says Baby Pierre. I'm new here.
That your bike? asks the mouldy pebble.
Yes, says Baby Pierre. It's got special wheels made of fluoroelastane.
Woop, says the mouldy pebble.
Two dirty pebbles roll up to view the fluoroelastane wheels which are crazily spinning.
This park isn't safe at night, says one dirty pebble.
It is for me, says Baby Pierre.
How come? asks the dirty pebble.
I've got two and a half hours where nothing bad can happen to me, says Baby Pierre.
How did you get them? asks Mouldy.
Yeah, says First Dirty. And how come you're so sure?
Because it would have happened already, says Baby Pierre, and it hasn't, so it can't for two and a half hours in the future.
But what makes you think it would have happened already? says Second Dirty. That's mental.
Yeah, mental, agrees Mouldy.
A phone call, says Baby Pierre. I'm from Adelaide, where it's two and a half hours in the future. My friends were just talking with people in Adelaide and they didn't say ANYTHING.
Which ones? asks First Dirty.
None of them, says Baby Pierre. What time is it? I'm wasting my luck standing here.
No you aren't, says Second Dirty. We're dangerous pebbles.
Foof! says Baby Pierre. Have you seen my Mark?
No, says Mouldy. What mark?
The Mark of the Claw, says Baby Pierre.
In the dim light of the inadequate park lighting filtering through the leaves of the fig tree, the pebbles see the dark image on Baby Pierre. A tulip? A camel?
Who hasn't got marks? says First Dirty.
Heh-heh! laughs Second Dirty. You just can't see ours.
That's too bad, says Baby Pierre. People respect you if you have a cool marking. I'm going to be in a movie. Or a live performance. Or pose for a statue.
How come you don't know which? asks Mouldy.
I will tomorrow, says Baby Pierre. That's why I have to practise. Want to give me some feedback?
It's quite dull in this park, on normal evenings, except for the odd mugging.
And here is a pebble with hubris.
Yes, they will give him some feedback.
You can be in it, says Baby Pierre. It's a movie. I'm riding to Lake Jasper and you guys are the spiders.
It's the first time Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty have been in a movie, as spiders.
They jump at the challenge.
Baby Pierre zooms across the road.
He cycles down a footpath, until he bumps into a wall.
But no. It isn't a wall. And it wasn't a footpath.
Baby Pierre has come off. He hopes no one was watching.
No chance. Pebbles are always watching.
Always on the lookout for other pebbles. Pebbles with hubris.
Come off? asks a mouldy pebble.
Stoppie, says Baby Pierre.
What language is that? asks the mouldy pebble.
Bike trick language, says Baby Pierre. Stoppies are endos.
You crashed into a Moreton Bay fig tree, says the mouldy pebble. Admit it.
Okay, says Baby Pierre. I'm new here.
That your bike? asks the mouldy pebble.
Yes, says Baby Pierre. It's got special wheels made of fluoroelastane.
Woop, says the mouldy pebble.
Two dirty pebbles roll up to view the fluoroelastane wheels which are crazily spinning.
This park isn't safe at night, says one dirty pebble.
It is for me, says Baby Pierre.
How come? asks the dirty pebble.
I've got two and a half hours where nothing bad can happen to me, says Baby Pierre.
How did you get them? asks Mouldy.
Yeah, says First Dirty. And how come you're so sure?
Because it would have happened already, says Baby Pierre, and it hasn't, so it can't for two and a half hours in the future.
But what makes you think it would have happened already? says Second Dirty. That's mental.
Yeah, mental, agrees Mouldy.
A phone call, says Baby Pierre. I'm from Adelaide, where it's two and a half hours in the future. My friends were just talking with people in Adelaide and they didn't say ANYTHING.
Which ones? asks First Dirty.
None of them, says Baby Pierre. What time is it? I'm wasting my luck standing here.
No you aren't, says Second Dirty. We're dangerous pebbles.
Foof! says Baby Pierre. Have you seen my Mark?
No, says Mouldy. What mark?
The Mark of the Claw, says Baby Pierre.
In the dim light of the inadequate park lighting filtering through the leaves of the fig tree, the pebbles see the dark image on Baby Pierre. A tulip? A camel?
Who hasn't got marks? says First Dirty.
Heh-heh! laughs Second Dirty. You just can't see ours.
That's too bad, says Baby Pierre. People respect you if you have a cool marking. I'm going to be in a movie. Or a live performance. Or pose for a statue.
How come you don't know which? asks Mouldy.
I will tomorrow, says Baby Pierre. That's why I have to practise. Want to give me some feedback?
It's quite dull in this park, on normal evenings, except for the odd mugging.
And here is a pebble with hubris.
Yes, they will give him some feedback.
You can be in it, says Baby Pierre. It's a movie. I'm riding to Lake Jasper and you guys are the spiders.
It's the first time Mouldy, First Dirty and Second Dirty have been in a movie, as spiders.
They jump at the challenge.
Saturday, April 6, 2019
Time Travel
Perth. Bailey's Motel.
Gaius calls David in Adelaide.
David: Hello.
Gaius: What time is it?
David : Nine thirty.
Gaius: Did I wake you from slumber?
David: No chance of that. You'll be pleased to know Arthur is coming.
Gaius: Good. Did he find my notebook?
David: He did, and he's bringing two knives and a pencil.
Gaius: Excellent.
David: How's everything?
Gaius: We've found a motel. Only seventy three dollars a night. Just about to go and have dinner at the Italian restaurant.
David: Have you found out how to get to Lake Jasper?
Gaius: Not yet, but we're meeting Grace Swan in the morning. She's offered to help us.
David: Wonderful. Why?
Gaius: She has a proposition for Baby Pierre. She works for PICA.
David: Never heard of it.
Gaius: Perth Institute for Contemporary Arts.
David: Arts. A proposition....hmm.
Gaius: It may mean a short delay, but that won't matter since you're not arriving till Thursday.
David: True enough. Burp!
Gaius: I know what you had for dinner!
David: Ha ha. It tasted like carpet.
The call ends on this note of joviality.
Come on, says Elodie. I'm starving. It's been such a long day.
Indeed it has, says Gaius. It's nine thirty in Adelaide.
What is it here? asks Baby Pierre.
Seven, says Elodie.
Woo! says Baby Pierre.
They really did fly backwards.
I'm going to ride my bike round that park, says Baby Pierre. While you guys eat your dinner.
Okay, says Elodie. Just be careful.
Zoom! He's got two and a half hours extra! Back home it's nine thirty. He doesn't need to be careful.
Gaius calls David in Adelaide.
David: Hello.
Gaius: What time is it?
David : Nine thirty.
Gaius: Did I wake you from slumber?
David: No chance of that. You'll be pleased to know Arthur is coming.
Gaius: Good. Did he find my notebook?
David: He did, and he's bringing two knives and a pencil.
Gaius: Excellent.
David: How's everything?
Gaius: We've found a motel. Only seventy three dollars a night. Just about to go and have dinner at the Italian restaurant.
David: Have you found out how to get to Lake Jasper?
Gaius: Not yet, but we're meeting Grace Swan in the morning. She's offered to help us.
David: Wonderful. Why?
Gaius: She has a proposition for Baby Pierre. She works for PICA.
David: Never heard of it.
Gaius: Perth Institute for Contemporary Arts.
David: Arts. A proposition....hmm.
Gaius: It may mean a short delay, but that won't matter since you're not arriving till Thursday.
David: True enough. Burp!
Gaius: I know what you had for dinner!
David: Ha ha. It tasted like carpet.
The call ends on this note of joviality.
Come on, says Elodie. I'm starving. It's been such a long day.
Indeed it has, says Gaius. It's nine thirty in Adelaide.
What is it here? asks Baby Pierre.
Seven, says Elodie.
Woo! says Baby Pierre.
They really did fly backwards.
I'm going to ride my bike round that park, says Baby Pierre. While you guys eat your dinner.
Okay, says Elodie. Just be careful.
Zoom! He's got two and a half hours extra! Back home it's nine thirty. He doesn't need to be careful.
Friday, April 5, 2019
Erigeron, Wormwood And Moly
Sikong Shu is bleeding, but not profusely.
Arthur is soaking up blood.
It's not very absorbent, complains Sikong Shu.
It was the first thing I found, says Arthur.
Sikong Shu looks at the red paper.
You tore it out of this notebook, says Sikong Shu. Is it the one Gaius wanted?
It's only page one, says Arthur.
I've stopped bleeding now, says Shu. I think we should try and restore this page one. Page ones are important.
Bound to be, says Arthur.
But he doesn't do it.
Shu spreads the page one on the table, smearing it further.
Does Gaius have a hair drier? he asks.
Arthur is about to say no, when he remembers that Gaius sometimes looks surprisingly coiffured.
He goes into the bathroom.
Yes. There is a small green hair drier in the bathroom cabinet.
Along with several packets, marked Erigeron, Wormwood and Moly.
He takes the hair drier into the kitchen.
Shu dries page one, while Arthur watches.
The blood turns brown and forms a crumpled spidery picture.
Shu sighs. He wishes to broach a subject, but how?
I might go to Lake Jasper after all, says Arthur.
O joy!
Was it the knife fight? asks Shu. You and I fought like two snake beans.
I've run out of money, says Arthur.
I have money, says Shu.
O, foolish!
Let's go and tell David you're coming, says Shu.
Arthur picks up the two knives. And a pencil. Shu picks up page one.
Where's the rest of it?
Arthur is already leaving.
Shu grabs a stack of random notebooks, and hurries after him.
The kitchen is quiet, except for a fridge noise.
No Lavender, weeping.
Because she has gone too.
Arthur is soaking up blood.
It's not very absorbent, complains Sikong Shu.
It was the first thing I found, says Arthur.
Sikong Shu looks at the red paper.
You tore it out of this notebook, says Sikong Shu. Is it the one Gaius wanted?
It's only page one, says Arthur.
I've stopped bleeding now, says Shu. I think we should try and restore this page one. Page ones are important.
Bound to be, says Arthur.
But he doesn't do it.
Shu spreads the page one on the table, smearing it further.
Does Gaius have a hair drier? he asks.
Arthur is about to say no, when he remembers that Gaius sometimes looks surprisingly coiffured.
He goes into the bathroom.
Yes. There is a small green hair drier in the bathroom cabinet.
Along with several packets, marked Erigeron, Wormwood and Moly.
He takes the hair drier into the kitchen.
Shu dries page one, while Arthur watches.
The blood turns brown and forms a crumpled spidery picture.
Shu sighs. He wishes to broach a subject, but how?
I might go to Lake Jasper after all, says Arthur.
O joy!
Was it the knife fight? asks Shu. You and I fought like two snake beans.
I've run out of money, says Arthur.
I have money, says Shu.
O, foolish!
Let's go and tell David you're coming, says Shu.
Arthur picks up the two knives. And a pencil. Shu picks up page one.
Where's the rest of it?
Arthur is already leaving.
Shu grabs a stack of random notebooks, and hurries after him.
The kitchen is quiet, except for a fridge noise.
No Lavender, weeping.
Because she has gone too.
Thursday, April 4, 2019
The Space In The Shape
Shu phones Arthur.
Arthur's phone rings.
Arthur looks at the number. He doesn't know it. He answers.
What is it?
Arthur, says Shu. It's me . Urgent message from Gaius.
He's forgotten something, says Arthur.
His notes on Project Maratus, says Shu.
What are you eating,? asks Arthur.
Dinner, says Shu.
Sounds like you're chewing on carpet, says Arthur.
Rockmelon rind, says Shu. You should try it.
Sure, says Arthur. So where are these notes he's forgotten?
At his house, says Shu. And he said you know where the spare key is.
I do, says Arthur.
Can we meet there? asks Shu.
No need, says Arthur. I'll go.
But I want to, says Shu. I'll get Katherine to box up some leftovers.
Arthur is hungry. He has long since spent the tin money. But leftover carpet?
Gruurrr. His belly rumbles.
Okay, says Arthur. Meet you there.
.....
Twenty minutes later, at Gaius's house.
Arthur lets himself in.
He turns the lights on.
Ommmm! a hum from the window sill.
Arthur? a whisper from a jumble of stones.
Arthur goes into Gaius's workroom.
Notebooks, notebooks, diagrams and maps. More notebooks.
He picks one. The Endangered Bandy Bandy. Not that.
He picks another. A smiling picture of Daniel O'Connell, the spider from Romania. Not that one either.
He decides to wait in the kitchen for Shu.
Arthur! It's that voice again. He knows it.
Lavender, says Arthur.
I thought you'd gone to Lake Jasper with Gaius and Baby Pierre, says Lavender.
I haven't, says Arthur. I might not even go.
Why not? asks Lavender. I would go in a heartbeat.
Why didn't you? asks Arthur.
She turns her mouth down.
No room, says Lavender.
Come on, says Arthur. You're a space in the shape of a fossil.
I LOVE you! says Lavender.
Arthur is not sure why she loves him for telling her what her shape is.
What? says Lavender. You said come on.
I meant that couldn't be the reason, says Arthur.
But I'm coming now, aren't I, says Lavender.
A gingery smell wends its way to Arthur's nostrils.
It's the leftovers. Shu has arrived.
Here we are, says Shu. Tuck in. It's still warm. I brought chopsticks.
He is hopeful he and Arthur might have a friendly fight with the chopsticks, later on.
Arthur starts eating the stir fry. It's not just rockmelon rind. It's chicken and ginger. And green bits.
Watermelon rind, says Shu. For contrast.
Arthur eats the whole lot, it's quite yummy.
Then he and Shu look for Gaius's notes on Project Maratus.
This time Arthur spots them.
He gives them to Shu.
Then he goes into the kitchen and opens a cutlery drawer.
He pulls two sharp knives out.
Shu has followed.
Ai! Even better than chopsticks!
Arthur's phone rings.
Arthur looks at the number. He doesn't know it. He answers.
What is it?
Arthur, says Shu. It's me . Urgent message from Gaius.
He's forgotten something, says Arthur.
His notes on Project Maratus, says Shu.
What are you eating,? asks Arthur.
Dinner, says Shu.
Sounds like you're chewing on carpet, says Arthur.
Rockmelon rind, says Shu. You should try it.
Sure, says Arthur. So where are these notes he's forgotten?
At his house, says Shu. And he said you know where the spare key is.
I do, says Arthur.
Can we meet there? asks Shu.
No need, says Arthur. I'll go.
But I want to, says Shu. I'll get Katherine to box up some leftovers.
Arthur is hungry. He has long since spent the tin money. But leftover carpet?
Gruurrr. His belly rumbles.
Okay, says Arthur. Meet you there.
.....
Twenty minutes later, at Gaius's house.
Arthur lets himself in.
He turns the lights on.
Ommmm! a hum from the window sill.
Arthur? a whisper from a jumble of stones.
Arthur goes into Gaius's workroom.
Notebooks, notebooks, diagrams and maps. More notebooks.
He picks one. The Endangered Bandy Bandy. Not that.
He picks another. A smiling picture of Daniel O'Connell, the spider from Romania. Not that one either.
He decides to wait in the kitchen for Shu.
Arthur! It's that voice again. He knows it.
Lavender, says Arthur.
I thought you'd gone to Lake Jasper with Gaius and Baby Pierre, says Lavender.
I haven't, says Arthur. I might not even go.
Why not? asks Lavender. I would go in a heartbeat.
Why didn't you? asks Arthur.
She turns her mouth down.
No room, says Lavender.
Come on, says Arthur. You're a space in the shape of a fossil.
I LOVE you! says Lavender.
Arthur is not sure why she loves him for telling her what her shape is.
What? says Lavender. You said come on.
I meant that couldn't be the reason, says Arthur.
But I'm coming now, aren't I, says Lavender.
A gingery smell wends its way to Arthur's nostrils.
It's the leftovers. Shu has arrived.
Here we are, says Shu. Tuck in. It's still warm. I brought chopsticks.
He is hopeful he and Arthur might have a friendly fight with the chopsticks, later on.
Arthur starts eating the stir fry. It's not just rockmelon rind. It's chicken and ginger. And green bits.
Watermelon rind, says Shu. For contrast.
Arthur eats the whole lot, it's quite yummy.
Then he and Shu look for Gaius's notes on Project Maratus.
This time Arthur spots them.
He gives them to Shu.
Then he goes into the kitchen and opens a cutlery drawer.
He pulls two sharp knives out.
Shu has followed.
Ai! Even better than chopsticks!
Wednesday, April 3, 2019
Double Happiness
The Jetstar flight lands in Perth.
It's four fifteen pm, but feels later.
I don't get it, says Baby Pierre.
Time zones, says Elodie. It's like we flew backwards.
Luckily, Gaius isn't listening, and David's not here.
Because it's not like they flew backwards.
Gaius is looking for a bus to the CBD.
Here comes one.
They get on.
I must contact Arthur, says Gaius.
He tries. But Arthur doesn't answer.
Why do you want him? asks Elodie.
I need him to find my notes on Project Maratus, says Gaius.
Try Shu, says Elodie. He's got a new phone.
She gives Gaius the number. He tries.
Ni hao, says Shu.
Shu, says Gaius, we're in Perth and I've brought the wrong notes. Are you at my house?
No, says Shu, I'm at David's. His mother Katherine is cooking.
Very nice, says Gaius. What is she cooking?
A stir fry with slices of rockmelon rind, says Shu.
The rind? asks Gaius.
She wasn't going to use the rind, says Shu. I always use it.
Most commendable, says Gaius. What does it taste like? I imagine something like carpet.
Not at all, says Shu. Crunchy.
Will you be going past my house? asks Gaius. I'd like you to drop in and pick up my notebook.
I don't have a key, says Shu.
Arthur knows where the spare key is, says Gaius.
Good, says Shu. A genuine reason to contact Arthur. You've just made my day.
I thought the rockmelon rind was doing that, says Gaius.
Ha ha, laughs Shu, in double happiness.
It's four fifteen pm, but feels later.
I don't get it, says Baby Pierre.
Time zones, says Elodie. It's like we flew backwards.
Luckily, Gaius isn't listening, and David's not here.
Because it's not like they flew backwards.
Gaius is looking for a bus to the CBD.
Here comes one.
They get on.
I must contact Arthur, says Gaius.
He tries. But Arthur doesn't answer.
Why do you want him? asks Elodie.
I need him to find my notes on Project Maratus, says Gaius.
Try Shu, says Elodie. He's got a new phone.
She gives Gaius the number. He tries.
Ni hao, says Shu.
Shu, says Gaius, we're in Perth and I've brought the wrong notes. Are you at my house?
No, says Shu, I'm at David's. His mother Katherine is cooking.
Very nice, says Gaius. What is she cooking?
A stir fry with slices of rockmelon rind, says Shu.
The rind? asks Gaius.
She wasn't going to use the rind, says Shu. I always use it.
Most commendable, says Gaius. What does it taste like? I imagine something like carpet.
Not at all, says Shu. Crunchy.
Will you be going past my house? asks Gaius. I'd like you to drop in and pick up my notebook.
I don't have a key, says Shu.
Arthur knows where the spare key is, says Gaius.
Good, says Shu. A genuine reason to contact Arthur. You've just made my day.
I thought the rockmelon rind was doing that, says Gaius.
Ha ha, laughs Shu, in double happiness.
Tuesday, April 2, 2019
Never Mind Four
Elodie looks at the card.
Perth Institute of Contemporary Arts.
And the woman's name.
Grace Swan.
Grace Swan is already on her way back to business class.
What is she thinking?
We don't know yet.
Grace Swan, says Elodie. PICA. I wonder what her proposition will be?
As long as she helps us to get to Lake Jasper, says Gaius.
Contemporary Arts, says Elodie. That could be anything. But obviously, it involves Baby Pierre and his bicycle.
She looks at Baby Pierre, who is thinking the same thing himself.
Is his bicycle artistic?
Is he?
He dreams up various scenarios.
One: That Grace Swan wants him to star in a movie. He will be riding to Lake Jasper. On the way he will meet various spiders. They will be attracted by the hypnotic green spin of his wheels. The spinning wheels will be a kind of leitmotif for the movie
Two: That Grace Swan wants him to pose for a statue. He is doing a wheelie. No, not a wheelie, more likely a stoppie. It will depict the exact moment at which the stoppie begins. It will win prizes.
Three: He is in a museum. He is doing a performance. He rides his bicycle through a webby curtain. Now he is covered in webs. He continues to ride his bicycle through a maze of upturned terracotta pots. He doesn't hit any. But the audience knows that inside each pot is a spider. So there is tension.
Four: Never mind four.
We can see that Baby Pierre is naturally artistic.
Meanwhile Elodie is reeling off a list of hotels they might stay in, in Perth.
Crowne Plaza, one hundred and twenty five dollars, says Elodie. A polished hotel with a rooftop pool.
Anything cheaper? asks Gaius.
Baileys, a streamlined option with an outdoor pool, one hundred and thirteen dollars.
Keep going, says Gaius.
Aloft Perth, overlooking the Swan River, rooftop terrace and outdoor pool, river views, one hundred and four dollars.
Anything under a hundred? asks Gaius.
There is actually. Bailey's Motel. A modest pick with a pool and Italian dining. Seventy three dollars.
Bingo, says Gaius. Book that.
Perth Institute of Contemporary Arts.
And the woman's name.
Grace Swan.
Grace Swan is already on her way back to business class.
What is she thinking?
We don't know yet.
Grace Swan, says Elodie. PICA. I wonder what her proposition will be?
As long as she helps us to get to Lake Jasper, says Gaius.
Contemporary Arts, says Elodie. That could be anything. But obviously, it involves Baby Pierre and his bicycle.
She looks at Baby Pierre, who is thinking the same thing himself.
Is his bicycle artistic?
Is he?
He dreams up various scenarios.
One: That Grace Swan wants him to star in a movie. He will be riding to Lake Jasper. On the way he will meet various spiders. They will be attracted by the hypnotic green spin of his wheels. The spinning wheels will be a kind of leitmotif for the movie
Two: That Grace Swan wants him to pose for a statue. He is doing a wheelie. No, not a wheelie, more likely a stoppie. It will depict the exact moment at which the stoppie begins. It will win prizes.
Three: He is in a museum. He is doing a performance. He rides his bicycle through a webby curtain. Now he is covered in webs. He continues to ride his bicycle through a maze of upturned terracotta pots. He doesn't hit any. But the audience knows that inside each pot is a spider. So there is tension.
Four: Never mind four.
We can see that Baby Pierre is naturally artistic.
Meanwhile Elodie is reeling off a list of hotels they might stay in, in Perth.
Crowne Plaza, one hundred and twenty five dollars, says Elodie. A polished hotel with a rooftop pool.
Anything cheaper? asks Gaius.
Baileys, a streamlined option with an outdoor pool, one hundred and thirteen dollars.
Keep going, says Gaius.
Aloft Perth, overlooking the Swan River, rooftop terrace and outdoor pool, river views, one hundred and four dollars.
Anything under a hundred? asks Gaius.
There is actually. Bailey's Motel. A modest pick with a pool and Italian dining. Seventy three dollars.
Bingo, says Gaius. Book that.
Monday, April 1, 2019
The Proposition
The business woman scratches her ankle.
It feels like an ant is down there.
She looks at the spot she's been scratching.
And sees Baby Pierre.
Where did YOU come from? asks the business woman.
Economy, says Baby Pierre.
He executes a final wheelie, and scoots back to economy.
He stops next to Gaius's foot.
Gaius is talking.
Strange, he is saying.
This is in response to Elodie's claim that she was paid a share of the money the audience threw into the tin, at Candide's Garden.
Which was a response to Gaius offering to pay for his half of the muffin with flies.
It didn't have flies, as we know, but mud sticks.
What's strange? asks Baby Pierre, who likes to be abreast of the times.
I wasn't paid any money, says Gaius.
Perhaps they gave it to Arthur, says Elodie. Thinking you'd get it.
Yes, perhaps that's what happened, and perhaps that's why Arthur disappeared shortly after.
Pick me up, please, says Baby Pierre.
Did anyone see you? asks Elodie.
A lady, says Baby Pierre.
He means the business woman with the ankle, and here she comes now.
Looking looking.
She stops next to Gaius's foot.
She has seen Baby Pierre's tiny bicycle.
Yours? she asks Gaius.
No, says Gaius. It belongs to a colleague.
You? asks the woman.
Not me, says Elodie. Baby Pierre. Our colleague.
Where is he? asks the woman. I have a proposition.
Baby Pierre had been there all along, obscured by muffin paper.
My card, says the woman. When you get to Perth, come and see me.
Unfortunately he won't be able to, says Gaius. We're heading out to Lake Jasper on a mission.
To catch spiders! squeaks Baby Pierre.
To catch spiders, he says again, lower.
Spiders? says the woman.
To identify them, says Gaius. And then release them.
How will you get there? asks the woman.
We don't know yet, says Elodie. We might hire a vehicle.
I can help you, says the woman. Do come and see me.
Okay, says Elodie.
Gaius frowns slightly.
The woman also frowns slightly. She has just spied his notes.
If he's here to catch spiders, why are his notes entitled Deadly Frog Fungus?
It feels like an ant is down there.
She looks at the spot she's been scratching.
And sees Baby Pierre.
Where did YOU come from? asks the business woman.
Economy, says Baby Pierre.
He executes a final wheelie, and scoots back to economy.
He stops next to Gaius's foot.
Gaius is talking.
Strange, he is saying.
This is in response to Elodie's claim that she was paid a share of the money the audience threw into the tin, at Candide's Garden.
Which was a response to Gaius offering to pay for his half of the muffin with flies.
It didn't have flies, as we know, but mud sticks.
What's strange? asks Baby Pierre, who likes to be abreast of the times.
I wasn't paid any money, says Gaius.
Perhaps they gave it to Arthur, says Elodie. Thinking you'd get it.
Yes, perhaps that's what happened, and perhaps that's why Arthur disappeared shortly after.
Pick me up, please, says Baby Pierre.
Did anyone see you? asks Elodie.
A lady, says Baby Pierre.
He means the business woman with the ankle, and here she comes now.
Looking looking.
She stops next to Gaius's foot.
She has seen Baby Pierre's tiny bicycle.
Yours? she asks Gaius.
No, says Gaius. It belongs to a colleague.
You? asks the woman.
Not me, says Elodie. Baby Pierre. Our colleague.
Where is he? asks the woman. I have a proposition.
Baby Pierre had been there all along, obscured by muffin paper.
My card, says the woman. When you get to Perth, come and see me.
Unfortunately he won't be able to, says Gaius. We're heading out to Lake Jasper on a mission.
To catch spiders! squeaks Baby Pierre.
To catch spiders, he says again, lower.
Spiders? says the woman.
To identify them, says Gaius. And then release them.
How will you get there? asks the woman.
We don't know yet, says Elodie. We might hire a vehicle.
I can help you, says the woman. Do come and see me.
Okay, says Elodie.
Gaius frowns slightly.
The woman also frowns slightly. She has just spied his notes.
If he's here to catch spiders, why are his notes entitled Deadly Frog Fungus?
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