All This Could Have Been Avoided

Why so alarmed? asks Gaius.

Nénette must have escaped her enclosure, says Isidore. I must go at once.

I'll stay here and keep Gaius company, says the parakeet (P. krameri).

Isidore rushes out.

Perhaps I should have gone with him, says Gaius.

No, says the parakeet (P. krameri).

You seem certain, says Gaius.

I am certain, says P. krameri. Relax. Finish your coffee.

Who or what is Nénette? asks Gaius.

A child covered in vomit, or a geriatric orangutan says P. krameri. Take your pick.

I imagine Isidore thinks it's the latter, says Gaius. And from your attitude, I imagine it isn't.

Quite right, says the parakeet (P. krameri). By the way, my friends call me P. krameri.

An excellent name, says Gaius.

I've always thought so, says P. krameri. By the way, is that a teaspoon?

Yes it is, says Gaius.

So all this could have been avoided, says P. krameri.

It's often the way, says Gaius.

Meanwhile Isidore has hopped off the Metro and raced to the Jardin des Plantes. He has entered the Belles Plantes café, expecting the worst.

That dear old Nénette will be blundering into chairs and tables, bewildered, seeking her morning croquette.

Looking for her herbal tea, her team of kindly doctors.

Old age's comforts.

But what does Isidore see?

No geriatric orangutan, but people, eating soft boiled eggs with asparagus, and semi cooked tuna with ginger lime sauce, and drinking Folle Envie.

At one table, a woman speaks crossly.

Such a WASTE of eight euros!

At the same table, a girl (Nénette) in a yellowing tee shirt, another girl (her sister), and Terence who is waving his claw in the air, creating fish fumes.