Tall Holiday Hat

Gaius is right. It was Vello.

Vello is now on his way.

He is cycling alone.

Good practice, thinks Vello, for the Tour de France in late August.

Even better, with a back pack.

His back pack is bulky. It contains a small tent, sleeping bag, rain jacket and the tall Peruvian hat, which he always takes on holiday.

As he pedals, it sways from side to side.

.......

He stops in Mount Compass, for a coffee.

A few raindrops fall, as he exits the café.

Should he put on his raincoat?

It won't be fun camping. He calls Gaius.

This time Gaius answers.

Vello? Where have you got to?

I'm in Mount Compass. It's starting to rain. I'm thinking of going home.

Don't do that, says Gaius. Do you know how to get here? You've overshot the turn off, if you're in Mount Compass.

I needed a coffee, says Vello. It's getting worse, what's it like where you are?

A few spots, says Gaius. But there's plenty of shelter. And Paloma has a camper. She'll let us inside.

Could she perhaps come and get me? asks Vello.

No, she's busy planting seedlings, says Gaius. Take the Victor Harbour Road out of Mount Compass, turn left at Lanacoona, left onto Simpson and right onto Beare Lane.

What about your talking parrot? asks Vello. It could come surely.

It's not a parrot, says Gaius. It's a crab.

Not like you to mistake a creature, says Vello.

Terence's fancy, says Gaius.

Is he there? asks Vello. Now I'm really not coming.

You've come this far, says Gaius. I'll tell you what. Sit tight and I'll send Kierkegaard. He's not doing much. And he can pick up some supplies from the cafe. Of course, you could do that.

No, send him, says Vello. I'll wait here with my coffee.

In your rain coat, says Gaius.

And my holiday hat, says Vello. I'll await him.

....

Gaius turns to Kierkegaard.

I heard, says Kierkegaard. I'm not doing much. Neither are you for that matter.

We can't both go, says Gaius.

I suppose not, says Kierkegaard. What would you like me to pick up from the café?

Sandwiches, says Gaius. And apples, if there are any. Coffee, if there's any way of carrying it.

If there isn't, says Kierkegaard, at least I can have one.

He thinks, Gaius deserved that.

He walks off to his bike.

An Incredible Feat of Deduction

Squeesquee!

Gaius and Kierkegaard make their way through the gap in the bulrushes.

Alexander-Red-Hook follows.

Remind me to tell you something, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Very well, says Gaius.

They have now reached the spot where Terence has been sitting with Lily, drying his shorts.

Where is it? asks Gaius. Flown away, I suppose.

No, says Terence. That was me, doing a practice.

It sounded lifelike, says Kierkegaard.

I thought so too, says Lily.

But the emu-wrens don't appear to have thought so.

Unless they took it as a warning, and decided to avoid that particular spot in the future.

Tap tap. Alexander-Red-Hook taps on Gaius's Croc.

Yes, you were going to tell me something, says Gaius.

You had a phone call, says Alexander-Red-Hook. While you were sleeping.

Was I sleeping? asks Gaius. Dear me.

If I had the phone, says Terence, I could have answered it for you.

Or I, says Kierkegaard.

You were sleeping as well, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Kierkegaard frowns.

I never sleep, says Terence.

Wow! says Lily. You're lucky!

And I could've taken a picture of the E-mew, says Terence.

Except there wasn't one, says Lily.

What was the phone call? asks Gaius.

Someone is coming, says Alexander-Red-Hook. He's coming this evening and bringing a tent. I gave him directions.

Was it Arthur? asks Gaius.

No, says Alexander-Red-Hook. No one I know the voice of.

Didn't he say? asks Kierkegaard. Don't people usually tell you?

This one didn't, says Alexander-Red-Hook. He just said who the dickens are you? I suppose you're one of Gaius's creatures. He said he's coming because he's got cobwebs.

Haha! laughs Terence. Cobwebs!

Hum, says Gaius. Who can it be?

No doubt a fellow philosopher, says Kierkegaard. We all suffer from cobwebs.

That narrows it down, says Gaius. Did he have any speech characteristics?

He said Ah! twice, says Alexander-Red-Hook. No wait! Ah! first, then Ahah! after that.

That would be Vello, says Gaius.

Foolproof Plan

So they ran off? asks Gaius.

Yes, says Lily. They were scared of the spider.

But they eat spiders, says Gaius.

Not this spider, says Lily. It was Terence's crab.

Me, says Alexander-Red-Hook. I'm sorry.

Not your fault, says Gaius. But why don't you stay with us in our hide, then they won't see you.

Okay, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

What will I do? asks Terence.

Go back to where you last saw the emu-wrens, and stay quiet, says Gaius. If you see one, give me a signal.

Yes, says Terence. What's the signal?

How about squeesquee? asks Lily. That's one of their sounds, so it won't scare them.

It might BE them, says Terence.

If it is, says Gaius, and we hear it, that will also suffice for a signal.

A foolproof plan.

Terence and Lily go off, through the proper gap this time.

Gaius and Kierkegaard settle down.

The sun warms their cosy bird hide.

They soon become drowsy.

Gaius's phone rings. Softly, because he has turned down his ring tone.

Alexander-Red-Hook sees that Gaius has not stirred.

Why not make herself useful?

Hello. This is Gaius's phone, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Who the dickens are you? asks Vello.

Crab-cum-parrot-spider-no, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Ah! One of Gaius's creatures, says Vello. At least you are capable of speech. Where is he?

Snoozing in a bird hide, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Ahah! says Vello. Just as I hoped. And where is this bird hide?

Near a swamp in Stipiturus Conservation Park at the end of Beare Road just out of Mount Compass, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

I say, says Vello. Impressive.

I keep my eyes open, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Why do you want to know?

I'm thinking of taking a short holiday in the country, says Vello. But I don't know anyone in the country. Then I thought of Gaius. He's usually pottering about looking for birds, snakes or spiders. It's just what I need, to blow away the cobwebs. Tell him I'll drop by this evening. Is he camping?

In a manner of speaking, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

So he has no equipment, says Vello. Typical. I'll bring a small tent.

Lovely, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Don't forget to tell him, says Vello. See you shortly, crab-spider-no.

He left out cum-parrot, thinks Alexander-Red-Hook.

Squeesquee!

The signal! Gaius's eyes snap open.

His leg jerks, kicking Kierkegaard awake.

Aristotle's Eyeballs

Meanwhile, Gaius and Kierkegaard have set up a hide with tussocks to sit on.

Ideally, we should not sit on tussocks, says Gaius.

But these are so well placed, says Kierkegaard, who chose them.

Indeed, says Gaius. And we may be here for some time.

Some time passes.

How rare are these emu-wrens? asks Kierkegaard.

Very rare, says Gaius. Especially here.

There are more elsewhere? says Kierkegaard.

Seventy two percent of them are found in the Deep Creek Conservation Park, says Gaius.

Why didn't we go there? asks Kierkegaard.

There should be more here now, says Gaius. This habitat was degraded, but of recent years there have been efforts to restore it.

By people like Paloma, says Kierkegaard. What type of seedlings was she planting?

Mount Compass oak bush, it looked like, says Gaius.

Very nice, says Kierkegaard.

He leans back in the afternoon sunshine, forgetting that he is sitting on a tussock.

Oops. He leans forward again.

Tussocks, says Gaius. They tend to keep you alert.

There is a rustling in the bulrushes. A cracking sound. Some whacks.

It can only be Terence.

It is.

Guess what! cries Terence.

You have broken several bulrushes, with a stick, says Gaius. I hope it wasn't on purpose.

It was only on purpose because I couldn't get through, says Terence.

You could have come through the gap we made earlier, says Kierkegaard.

Terence looks. Lily and Alexander-Red-Hook are coming through the gap they made earlier.

That's their gap, says Terence. They were too slow, so I made a new one. That's because......guess what!

What? asks Gaius.

Wait, says Kierkegaard. What you said doesn't make sense. If they were too slow, they were behind you, so nothing was stopping you from coming through the gap we made earlier.

I've got a stick, says Terence.

I suggest you put it down, says Gaius, and tell us what you have come bursting through the bulrushes to tell us.

I spotted two E-mews! says Terence.

How do you know they were emus... I mean emu-wrens? asks Gaius. Describe them.

They couldn't talk properly and they thought Alexander-Red-Hook was a spider! says Terence.

Tail feathers? says Gaius.

She's a CRAB, says Terence. I mean a parrot, but she doesn't have feathers.

The emus, says Gaius.

Fortunately Lily is more observant.

Gray-brown, streaked with black on the top half, light brown underneath, a blue throat and some blue round the eyes, says Lily. Six upright tail feathers. And they ran through the low vegetation like mice do.

Aristotle's eyeballs! cries Gaius. That's them!  (He is excited)

Not-what-no

The two emu-wrens sneak up closer to Alexander-Red-Hook.

The closer they get, the bigger she is, and the harder her shell looks.

squeesqueenotaspider!

nonotoneno!

What's that squeesqueeing? asks Lily.

Parrots, says Terence.

Not parrots, says Alexander-Red-Hook. I think I should know.

But you're not a real parrot, says Lily. So you might not know.

Does that mean you think it's parrots squeesqueeing? asks Terence.

No, says Lily.

But you're not a real parrot, says Terence.

She knows bird things, says Alexander-Red-Hook. She told me.

Woop! says Terence. So you don't have to be one to know.

I said MIGHT not, says Lily. But I'm sure it's not parrots.They could be stipituri.

Ee? scoffs  Terence.

Plural, says Lily. I heard at least two squeesquees.

What am I one of? asks Terence.

Why are you asking? asks Lily.

So I know what I don't have to be one of, to know something, says Terence.

He's just being silly, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

I know, says Lily. Look! There they are!

Make a parrot sound, says Terence.

Who, me? asks Alexander-Red-Hook. How does a parrot sound?

Squaaaark, suggests Lily.

That's all YOU know, says Terence.

Hello, brothers, says Alexander-Red-Hook to the two stipituri.

notoneno, says the first one.

notwhatno? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

spiderno! says the second one.

Of course I'm a spider-no, says Alexander-Red-Hook. And I won't confuse you by claiming to be a parrot. I suppose you don't see many crabs, and therefore you think I may be a strange kind of spider, but I assure you, I'm a crustacean...

See, says Terence, to Lily. That's how a parrot sounds.

It's no big deal to Lily, but the stipituri don't like it.

They flee through the low vegetation.

Whistle What's Up?

The Southern emu-wren has covered a short distance from the scene of the washing.

It lands on a prickly tree.

There it thinks about what has just happened.

backpackmanflee! chirpwhistle!

moremans! onelittlemans

eyeseyes!

In other words, the Southern emu-wren, having been surprised by Kierkegaard at the back pack, flew off in a panic, but not before noticing Terence's eyes.

Presumably, the Smartie eyes, not his normal cement ones.

Another emu-wren lands on the prickle tree beside him.

chirpwhistlewhatsup?

littlemanseyes!!

chupsquee?

squeesqeeesquee!!

never!!

come and squee!!

In other words the second emu-wren doesn't believe it, so now they are going back to see.

Southern emu-wrens are weak fliers. They hop down from the prickle tree.

They run along together, like wee mice, through the low vegetation.

....

Meanwhile Terence is growing ever cleaner.

You can even see the gecko pattern on his shorts.

And his face looks a lot fresher.

But his cement curls are still filthy, with the Smarties in situ.

Now sit in the sun while you dry, says Gaius. There's a sunny spot.

I'll sit with you, says Lily. You and your parrot.

Alexander-Red-Hook is happy to be included.

Paloma continues planting seedlings.

Gaius and Kierkegaard walk back through the gap in the bulrushes.

Have they forgotten that the emu-wren might come back?

No. They are going to get Gaius's binoculars and then find a good place to hide.

One where they might sit upon something, while waiting.

.....

The two emu-wrens peer through the low vegetation.

littlemans!

eyesno!

spider!

squeesqueeget!

Oh no! They have spotted Alexander-Red-Hook. And they think she's a spider.

Ins And Outs Of Bird Watch

Terence plonks the container of water down on the grass.

More water slops out in the process.

Terence wants someone to wash him, says Lily.

Did I say that? asks Terence.

I'm quite sure he didn't, says Gaius. Step in, Terence. I shall do it.

Terence steps in.

Gaius looks around for a smaller container.

The seedling pots are useless. They have holes in the bottom.

I'll use my cupped hands, says Gaius. Ready Terence?

Terence is ready.

Gaius fills his cupped hands.

He raises the cupped hands filled with water above Terence's head.

Wait! I'm not ready, says Terence.

Let me know when you are, says Gaius.

Never, says Terence. Because if you slosh water over my head you'll wash off the Smarties.

We'll take them off first, says Gaius.

Terence thinks they look like eyes, says Lily. He wants a photo.

I'll take a photo, says Kierkegaard.

Good man, says Gaius. Use my phone. It's back there, through the bulrushes, in my back pack.

Kierkegaard goes through the gap in the bulrushes.

Wonderful! There's a small bird, sitting on Gaius's back pack. If only he could take a photo. But Gaius's phone is inside, and Kierkegaard doesn't have one.

He resolves to obtain one. For times such as these.

The small bird flies up in alarm.

Kierkegaard reaches into the back pack and pulls out a sock filled with knucklebones.

Pah! He shoves it back in.

He rummages further, until he finds Gaius's phone.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the bulrushes, Terence has sat down in his container of water.

It's a boat, says Terence.

Boats aren't filled with water, says Lily. Unless they're sinking.

Terence is about to reply when the small bird which Kierkegaard startled darts by.

I do believe that was a stipiturus! says Gaius.

An E-mew! shouts Terence.

Hush, says Paloma. It might come back if we're quiet.

Yes, possibly.

It might.

Eyes You Can't See

Is that Terence? asks Lily.

Yes, says Alexander-Red-Hook. He usually looks cleaner than that.

Lily, says Paloma, why don't you fill this seedling box with clean water. This boy needs a wash.

Okay, says Lily. Do you want to help, Terence?

Terence thinks he won't be allowed to.

But the grown ups are talking.

(This is Paloma, she's planting seedlings, pleased to meet you Paloma, have we met before? yes we passed briefly in the bakery at Goolwa, nice vegan pies they have there, really? I wouldn't know, we had plain German buns and two Danishes, I hear you're looking for emu-wrens Gaius tells me you haven't seen any, well of course they are elusive ........)

So Terence heads off to the water's edge with Lily.

Why have you got two Smarties on your head? asks Lily.

Can you see them? asks Terence.

Of course I can, says Lily. Or I wouldn't have asked you.

What do they look like? asks Terence.

Pebbles, says Lily.

Wrong, says Terence. They look like eyes.

You can't see them, says Lily.

How could I? asks Terence.

Look at your reflection in the water, says Lily.

This is a dangerous suggestion.

A parrot intervention is required.

Alexander-Red-Hook thinks quickly.

A photo would be better, says Alexander-Red-Hook. You could keep it.

Yes! says Terence. I could keep it!

Lily agrees a photo would be better.

So Terence is saved from the results of falling into the water, including the loss of the Smarties, which would have been bad.

Lily dips the seedling container into the clear water.

This is a special place, says Lily.

I know, says Terence.

I bet you don't know, says Lily.

I DO know, says Terence. It's a Pete Swamp.

But do you know why it's special? asks Lily.

Because it's named after Pete, says Terence.

Now I know you don't know, says Lily. You think Pete is a person.

What do you think Pete is? asks Terence.

Dirt with dead leaves and wood and stuff in it, says Lily.

Poor Pete, says Terence.

Would you like me to wash you? asks Lily.

No WAY! says Terence.

Okay, says Lily, you can carry the water back to the grownups and they can do it.

So Terence has to carry his own water and it's not even worth it because when he looks down all he sees is a slopping reflection of his chin.

You Too Are Valuable

Gaius breaks through the bulrushes.

Careful, says someone. A woman.

Sorry, says Gaius.

We're planting seedlings, says the woman.

Well done, says Gaius. I'm looking for clean water.

We know, says the woman. Your crab told us.

Where is she? asks Gaius.

Over there talking to my daughter, says the woman. I'm Paloma, by the way.

Gaius, says Gaius.

You're bird spotting, says Paloma. Hoping to see an emu-wren. Any luck so far?

Not yet, says Gaius. We were having a lunch break, when young Terence fell into the mud. That's why we need the clean water.

There's clean water here, says Paloma. But don't let him muddy it up.

Of course not, says Gaius. I'll go back and get him. Perhaps we could borrow that empty seedling container.

You're welcome, says Paloma.

Gaius heads off.

Lily! calls Paloma. Come here darling!

I'm talking to the parrot, shouts Lily.

Go to your mother, says Alexander-Red-Hook. I'll come too. We can continue our conversation.

Okay, says Lily.

This is all very well, but we've missed the start. Let's reverse time's arrow.

Five minutes previous. Start of conversation:

Lily: Hello crab, I saw you in the bakery.

Alexander-Red-Hook: No way!

Lily: Yes it was you. You told me you were a parrot and never stopped talking.

Alexander-Red-Hook: I remember! Your mother bought you a Funny Face.

Lily: And I wasn't allowed to eat it.

Alexander-Red-Hook: Same as Terence. He had to wait till we got here.

Lily: Who's Terence?

Alexander-Red-Hook: My...um...boy. And I am his parrot. I'm easing into the role.

Lily: Why doesn't he get a proper parrot?

Alexander-Red-Hook: He values me. I know parrot things and crab things.

Lily: I know plant things and bird things.

Alexander-Red-Hook: Then you too are valuable.

Right. Time's reversed arrow has now caught up to the present. (Don't try to picture it).

Lily and Alexander-Red-Hook have made it back to Paloma.

Gaius has again pushed his way through the bulrushes.

There is now a good gap in the bulrushes.

(You might picture that).

A muddy infant stomps through the gap in his stiffening shorts. On his head are two Smarties.

He is followed by Kierkegaard, the philosopher, whose lips are still shiny with sugar glaze from a recent pastry.

Bended Knees

Gaius arrives at the swamp.

Squelch. It is muddy.

His Crocs fill with mud.

Kierkegaard is close behind him, picking his way in his trainers.

You came! says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Of course we came, says Gaius.

I didn't trust that white plumed honeyeater, says Alexander-Red-Hook. It was aggressive.

They can be aggressive, says Gaius. But first things first. Where is Terence?

Over there, says Alexander-Red-Hook. He wants you to find him.

This isn't a game, says Gaius. We were told he was up to his shoulders in mud.

He was, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Now it's worse. Better hurry.

Look, says Kierkegaard. Two Smarties, red and yellow, side by side in the mud.

That's your clue, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Don't tell me he's under the Smarties! says Gaius.

SPLURT! Terence stands up.

Mud covers his body. The Smarties are now on the top of his head.

Was that a good trick? asks Terence.

No, says Gaius. We thought  you had sunk.

It's not deep enough, says Terence. My knees were bended.

Bent, says Gaius.

He'll need a wash, says Kierkegaard.

There will be clear water somewhere, says Gaius. Alexander-Red-Hook can make herself useful, and find it.

And what will you do? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

Pull Terence out, says Gaius.

He could walk out, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Yes I could, says Terence. I could walk out. Are my Smarties still showing?

Yes, says Kierkegaard.

I knew it, says Terence. Guess what I just saw!

What? asks Gaius.

Another E-mew! says Terence. You missed it.

Gaius looks around.

A yellow-rumped thornbill is just disappearing.

That was a yellow-rumped thornbill, says Gaius.

Not that one, says Terence. The other one. It came because the Smarties on my head look like eyes.

Nonsense, says Kierkegaard. They're red and yellow.

Water! calls Alexander-Red-Hook. Over here! And people!

People, says Gaius. That's good. We'll compare notes.

He sets off towards the place where Alexander-Red-Hook located the water.

Kierkegaard remains with Terence, in case he goes under again.

A Slow Bamboozle

The boy offered me a biscuit, says the honeyeater. And the crab claimed to be a parrot.

He was told not to, says Gaius.

It was a female, says the honeyeater.

The crab, yes, says Gaius. I referred to the boy, as you call him.

Surely it was a simple matter to refuse, says Kierkegaard. How one lives is a matter of personal choice.

Don't try to bamboozle me with philosophy, says the honeyeater. This is a conservation park. We expect a degree of protection.

As I understand it, you are not endangered, says Gaius.

Others are, says the honeyeater. And it was more than a biscuit. It had Smarties for eyes.

He offered you Smarties? asks Gaius. I really must talk to him.

No, he didn't, says the honeyeater. Worse than that. He picked off the Smarties.

No harm in that, says Gaius.

None, says Kierkegaard. But what did he do with them?

Good question, says Gaius.

It is, says the honeyeater. He was about to throw them into a puddle, surrounded by common reeds and ferns, when his so-called parrot prevented him.

Good for the so-called parrot, says Gaius. What is the nature of your complaint exactly?

What he did next, says the honeyeater.

Go on, says Gaius, taking a bite of his Danish. He has a feeling he should eat it now.

Kierkegaard takes a bite of his too, with a feeling of nostalgia (being Danish).

He placed the Smarties side by side in the mud and said they were eyes, says the honeyeater.

Eyes? What colour were they? asks Kierkegaard.

Red and yellow, says the honeyeater. What difference does that make?

I wonder what prompted him, says Kierkegaard. To see them as eyes would only have occurred to me if they were blue ones. They do make blue ones.

I'm surprised you should know that, says Gaius.

Kierkegaard shrugs. He thought everyone knew that.

So you want us to come and remove the Smarties, says Gaius, finishing the last of his Danish.

Yes, and you might bring a spare pair of shorts, says the honeyeater.

Why? asks Gaius. I don't think I....

The eyes sank, says the honeyeater, and your boy tried to retrieve them, and the so called parrot was too parrotty to help him, and the result is he's up to his shoulders in mud or at least he was when I last...

Jumping Jupiter!

Gaius is on his feet already.

To The Swamp

Can me and my parrot go bird-spotting? asks Terence.

What about lunch? asks Gaius.

He's had it, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

All right then, says Gaius. But stay close to your parrot. And parrot, keep him away from the swamp.

Can I go NEAR it? asks Terence.

Near it, but not into it, says Gaius.

Don't worry, says Alexander-Red-Hook. I'll look after Terence. What do we do if we spot a stipiturus?

Make a note of where you spotted it, says Gaius. If possible, engage it in conversation.

Ha ha, laughs Kierkegaard. Conversation! How would that go?

It hardly matters as long as it's cordial, says Gaius. The point is, to gain the bird's trust.

Would it like a biscuit? asks Terence.

Certainly not, says Gaius. They eat insects and seeds.

Come on, before they change their minds, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Red-Hook and Terence head off on their own, towards an area featuring rushes and sedges.

Was it wise to let them go off like that? asks Kierkegaard.

The crab will keep Terence out of trouble, says Gaius. And Terence has been quite reliable lately.

Mm, says Kierkegaard, remembering the serial carnage.

Shall we have lunch? asks Gaius. Where are those German rolls?

Here, says Kierkegaard, taking them out of the shopping bag and handing two to Gaius.

Plain ones, are they? says Gaius.

Would you have preferred a filling? asks Kierkegaard. It didn't occur to me in the bakery, but I could have requested cheese and pickle.

Plain is perfectly adequate, says Gaius. And we have Danish tarts.

Yes, says Kierkegaard. We have. In this paper bag here.

He indicates it.

Grease has seeped through the paper.

Gaius eats his plain German rolls, and Kierkegaard eats his two.

A bird lands in the tea tree, above them. A white plumed honey-eater.

How pleasant. The mid-day sun warms the paper bag containing the Danish pastry, and the sweetened apple inside it.

Has the honey-eater been attracted by the Danish?

It's not for you, says Gaius, to the honey-eater.

That's not why I'm here, says the honey-eater. I'm here to lodge a complaint against your boy and your crab.

Voice From The Deep

Stipiturus Conservation Park.

Gaius and Kierkegaard establish themselves behind a tea tree.

Terence remains out in the open.

Alexander-Red-Hook is beside him.

The paper bag containing the Funny Face biscuit is empty.

The Funny Face lies on the ground, facing the sky.

Any last words? says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Yes, says Terence. Any last words, before we rip your mouth off?

You'll be sorry, says the Funny Face.

This cuts no mustard.

Terence rips off the mouth, a red jelly bean.

He is going to eat it.

I thought you were going to eat the biscuit, says the mouth.

Red's my favourite colour, says Terence.

If I'd known that.... says the mouth.

What? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

I would have kept talking, says the mouth.

Terence swallows the mouth in one swallow.

Hic- gulp!

Now for the eyes, says Terence.

I don't advise it, says ......who? It came out of Terence, but sounded like Funny Face.

Pardon? says Alexander-Red-Hook. Say that again.

I don't advise it, says Terence, (or it seems so).

Terence looks highly alarmed.

HEY! There's a voice coming out of me!

It's the red jelly bean, says Alexander-Red-Hook. You didn't chew it.

Now what? says Terence.

Wait, says Alexander-Red-Hook. It'll dissolve in your stomach.

There's nothing in here to dissolve me, says the voice which is not that of Terence.

Could it be true? No stomach juices?

Perhaps it hasn't gone down very far, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Open your mouth.

Which one? asks Terence.

The only one you can open, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Terence opens his mouth.

Out jumps the red jelly bean, landing in a tussock of red-fruit saw-sedge.

We'll never find it now, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Who wants to? says Terence.

What Birds Don't Need To Know

Terence is again facing outwards.

Alexander-Red-Hook dangles free.

Not far now, says Gaius, turning onto Beare Lane.

Good, says Kierkegaard, cycling alongside him.

Another car passes.

Everyone's going where we're going! says Terence.

I doubt that, says Gaius. But a few may turn up, I suppose.

To look for E-mews, says Terence.

Emu-wrens, says Gaius. And to plant native species.

In the swamp, says Kierkegaard.

It's a peat swamp, says Gaius. The Fleurieu's largest and most intact peat swamp.

Pete Swamp, says Terence.

It sounds like he's saying it right.

I'm looking forward to those German rolls, says Gaius.

So am I, says Kierkegaard. And those Danish tarts.

What have I got ? asks Terence. Nothing.

The Funny Face, says Kierkegaard. I don't understand why you've taken against it.

I don't like it's FACE! says Terence.

Would you like some advice from your parrot? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

I don't know, says Terence. What is it?

Me, says Alexander-Red-Hook. I'm your parrot.

I mean what's the ADVICE! says Terence.

Pick the face off, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Then it's just a biscuit.

Terence is pleased with this good advice from his parrot.

He asks for the biscuit.

But the grownups aren't willing to stop yet.

They are approaching the conservation park which is named Stipiturus after the emu-wrens who reputedly live there.

Stipiturus Conservation Park.

Here we are, says Gaius. Now to find a good spot.

For lunch, says Terence. Where's my biscuit?

For bird spotting, says Gaius. This low dense vegetation is ideal for hiding.

Why are we hiding? asks Terence.

It's easier to spot birds from a bird hide, says Gaius. Because the birds won't see you.

Did you know that, my parrot? asks Terence.

We birds don't need to know that, says Alexander-Red-Hook. In fact, if we did, the whole construct would fail. But speaking as a former crab, I'm aware of it.

You're the best cr....parrot ever! says Terence. You know parrot things and crab things! And you know what to do with the biscuit.

Gaius looks at Kierkegaard.

Kierkegaard nods.

Alexander-Red-Hook is an asset.

Don't Face Inwards

They finish their coffee, and push on.

Alexander-Red-Hook is back in her knotted string basket.

As if nothing had happened.

Terence is in Gaius's back pack, this time facing in.

He has chosen this position, and it's too late to switch now.

All he can see is Gaius's neck skin.

We'll soon be approaching the turn off, says Gaius, turning his head.

The neck skin wrinkles.

What's that? shouts Kierkegaard.

Approaching the turn off, says Alexander-Red-Hook. We turn left.

Right, says Kierkegaard. Meaning understood, not right as in....

One pig joke is enough for one morning, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

We turn left here! shouts Gaius.

He turns left onto Lanacoona. Kierkgaard follows.

A car passes, going the same way.

What was that? asks Terence.

A car, says Gaius. Would you like to face outwards again?

No, says Terence. But if I disappear, don't worry.

How might you disappear? asks Gaius.

Sinking, says Terence.

You may well sink when we get there, says Gaius. It's a swamp. We must take precautions.

I mean now, says Terence. I'm going down.

He bends his knees and disappears into the depths of the back pack.

Woop! Gaius has brought the knucklebones! And what's this long thing?

He picks up the long thing.

It's a pen.

He feels around further. Hah! a soft round object, with a hole in it.....

Left again here! shouts Gaius.

Right! shouts Kierkegaard.

Terence has heard this. The stupid grownups must be going round in a circle.

He needs to get in touch with his parrot.

He wriggles himself until he is facing in the opposite direction.

He pokes his head out.

The cute cement curls.

The small hand, grasping a knucklebone.

Terence takes aim.

Don't do it! shouts Alexander-Red-Hook.

Is something wrong? asks Kierkegaard.

Terence is trying to get our attention, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Stop, Gaius! shouts Kierkegaard.

What is it? asks Gaius, stopping.

Terence, says Kierkegaard. He's trying to get our attention.

I knew it was a bad idea to let him face inwards, says Gaius. What is it Terence?

Now Terence can see that they haven't been going round in a circle.

The landscape is different. A sort of dry heathland. Sheoak, hakea, bush pea, spyridium, yacca.

A bird flashes past.

I think that was an E-mew, says Terence.

It wasn't, says Gaius. It was a Yellow-rumped Thornbill. I saw it this time.

She Only Died Once

They have now reached Mount Compass.

Gaius stops.

Are we there yet? asks Terence.

Not yet, says Gaius. This is Mount Compass.

I smell coffee, says Kierkegaard.

So do I, says Gaius. It's coming from that café.

Would you like one? asks Kierkegaard.

Yes thanks, a flat white, says Gaius.

Kierkegaard drops his bike, forgetting Alexander-Red-Hook, who cries out:

Aaarh!

Are you still alive? asks Terence.

Of course I am, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

That's fortunate, says Gaius. Another death would augur badly.

You only die once, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

A subjective view, says Gaius. I was thinking of the five others.

Don't start, says Alexander-Red-Hook. That's behind me.

Of course, says Gaius. Onwards and upwards. A good motto.

Especially for a parrot, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Gaius leans his bike against the wall of the café.

He has seen there are seats round the back.

Kierkegaard comes out with two coffees.

Shall we sit round the back? asks Gaius. There's a view.

Yes, says Kierkegaard. Oh!

He has just noticed his bike on the ground and Alexander-Red-Hook, still attached to the handlebars, spreadeagled.

You killed her, says Terence.

My apologies, says Kierkegaard. But she seems to have recovered.

She only died once, says Terence.

Kierkegaard lifts his bike and extracts Alexander-Red-Hook from the knotted string.

I had planned to stay put, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Better not, in the circumstances, says Kierkegaard.

He hands Gaius his coffee. They all go round the back.

Gaius and Kierkegaard drink their flat whites and admire the view of green paddocks and hills.

A faint scent of pigs wafts past their noses.

Pigs, remarks Gaius. They also make cheese.

The pigs do? asks Kierkegaard.

Ha ha, no, says Gaius. The locals.

Kierkegaard is pleased to have made Gaius laugh.

He had meant it to be a humorous question.

Perceptive On Occasion

Are you off now? asks Victor.

Yes, says Gaius. We're ready to go. Thanks for the loan of the bicycles.

No worries, says Victor. Just see you return them.

Of course, says Gaius. I'll let you know when that will be.

Oh I'll know, says Victor.

Gaius dismisses this as a boastful remark.

He and Kierkegaard set off in the direction of Mount Compass.

Gaius in front, because he has studied the route map.

Terence, in Gaius's back pack, facing outwards.

Kierkegaard behind.

Alexander-Red-Hook dangles from his handlebars, in her knotted string basket.

The Funny Face is in its paper bag, next to another paper bag, containing four German rolls, and a third one, containing two Danish tarts.

They are in Kierkegaard's back pack, which is not a proper one, but a converted foil lined shopper.

The handles are short.

All right back there? calls Gaius.

Fine, says Kierkegaard, The short handles are improving my posture.

Good man, says Gaius. How are you, Terence?

I can only see where we've been, says Terence.

Never mind, says Gaius. Your parrot can see where we're going.

Terence had not thought of that.

Hey, my parrot! shouts Terence.

Meaning me? shouts Alexander-Red-Hook.

Meaning you, says Terence. Can you see where we're going?

Sometimes, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

When? asks Terence.

Now.... not now ........now.......not now, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Why not now? asks Terence.

Wrong question. You asked that just when I could see where we were going, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

What did you see when you could see where we were going? asks Terence.

Yellow, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Terence is disappointed.

Yellow reminds me of sand, says Alexander-Red-Hook. And my dear sister, Alexander-Yellowsun. If only I could revisit the past.

That's what I have to do all the time, in this backpack, says Terence.

I heard that, says Gaius. Facing backwards is not the same thing as revisiting the past. Revisiting the past, for you, would be going back to Middleton. Or Barcelona.

I'm not facing backwards, says Terence. I'm facing forwards and being bicycled backwards.

He's right! says Kierkegaard. Got you there, Gaius.

Well argued, Terence, says Gaius. You can be quite perceptive, on occasion.

Yes, says Terence. Look, an E-mew!

Where? asks Gaius, looking up and wobbling all over the road.

Watch out! cries Kierkegaard. A car is coming!

Gaius rights himself and his bicycle, just in time.

The car zooms by.

Did you really spot an emu wren, Terence? asks Gaius. We have not yet reached the swamp habitat.

Yes, says Terence.

What did it look like?

Fast, says Terence.

And what were its features?

A beak, says Terence. And feathers....

And a really long tail, says Alexander-Red-Hook. I saw it too.

Great! Terence knew he was perceptive!

Sucked In

Didn't you like the look of your biscuit? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

No! says Terence.

What's wrong with it? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

It reminds me of someone, says Terence.

A clown? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

No, says Terence. Saint Joseph.

Alexander-Red-Hook glimpsed the biscuit, when Terence looked into the paper bag, so she knows what it looks like.

An oval shaped arrowroot biscuit, with jelly bean eyes, mouth and nose.

He must have looked funny, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

He looked angry, says Terence.

Saint Joseph or the biscuit? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

Both, says Terence.

I didn't think so, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

You don't know him, says Terence.

I saw the biscuit, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Anyway, you don't have to eat it.

No, you don't, comes a voice from inside the paper bag.

It talked! says Terence. It didn't sound like Saint Joseph.

Of course I didn't, says the Funny Face Biscuit. Does Saint Joseph have a jelly bean mouth, no he doesn't, and another thing.....

The Funny Face biscuit pauses, for effect.

What's the other thing? asks Terence.

Eyebrows! says the Funny Face Biscuit.

Eyebrows? says Alexander-Red Hook. What does that mean?

Who asked that? asks the Funny Face.

Me, says Alexander-Red-Hook. One time control crab, now apprentice parrot.

The Funny Face is stumped, momentarily, taking this in.

But he is a quick thinker, due to his arrowroot background.

What would a crab know of eyebrows? asks the Funny Face. Or a parrot, for that matter?

Which means it's a good question, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Saint Joseph has eyebrows, says the Funny Face. I don't have them.

Does Saint Joseph have them? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

Yes! Mean ones, says Terence. They start off up at the sides of his face and go downwards.

To his ears? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

To his NOSE! says Terence.

Either way, I rest my case, says the Funny Face. So, are you going to eat me?

If you stay in the bag, says Terence, I won't eat you.

Woo-hoo! Sucked in.

Saint Biscuit

Kierkegaard returns with the bakery items.

Terence looks up from his task.

Am I getting something? asks Terence.

A Funny Face, says Kierkegaard.

Ha ha, laughs Gaius.

He thinks this is funny because

a.) Terence's face does look funny, being covered in cobwebs.

b.) He does not know there's a biscuit, with that name.

Can I have it NOW? asks Terence.

No, says Kierkegaard. It's for when we're on the road. Have you finished oiling the bike chains?

Yes, says Terence.

He's done more than that, says Gaius. I suggest you wipe your seat down.

I thought you were supervising, says Kierkegaard.

I was, until I became engrossed in the route map, says Gaius.

Ah, says Kierkegaard. So you know where we're going?

I do, says Gaius. We ride to Mount Compass, take the Victor Harbour Road out, turn left at Lanacoona, left onto Simpson and right at Beare Lane.

Well done! says Kierkegaard.

And it is. Getting there is sorted.

Terence eyes the paper bag containing his Funny Face.

At least they could let him see it. But they won't.

It's a job for a parrot.

Parrot, says Terence, I want you to bring me the paper bag. Don't let the grown ups see you.

And how would I do that? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

Get under this rag, says Terence, and move slowly.

That's disgusting, says Alexander-Red-Hook. It's oily and webby.

Use the other side, says Terence.

I won't says Alexander-Red-Hook. I'll do this my way.

She approaches Kierkegaard: May Terence look at his Funny Face, if he promises not to eat it?

Certainly, says Kierkegaard.

He opens the paper bag so that Terence can look in.

Terence looks in.

This is the moment that Terence comes face to face with his Funny Face.

Wah! It looks like....Saint Joseph!

First Step To Becoming

Goolwa.

Victor has brought out the bikes.

They are covered in cobwebs.

Never mind, says Gaius. We'll just wipe them down.

The chains might need oiling, says Victor.

Do you have any oil? asks Gaius.

Victor enters the police shed, and comes back with a bottle of oil and a cloth.

He hands them to Gaius, who hands them to Terence.

What? says Terence.

A good learning experience, says Gaius.

But I'm holding my parrot, says Terence.

I'll hold her, says Kierkegaard.

You do that, says Gaius. I'll supervise Terence. You go to the bakery.

I could leave the parrot here, says Kierkegaard.

I'll be busy working out our route, says Gaius.

Very well. Kierkegaard sets off with the parrot.

He swings her, in the knotted string basket.

Could you stop doing that? says Alexander-Red-Hook. I'm not used to that sort of motion.

Sorry, says Kierkegaard. I find I think of you as a parrot.

Even a parrot would object, says Alexander-Red-Hook. A parrot prefers it's own motion.

That shows a degree of empathy with parrots, says Kierkegaard. The first step to becoming one.

It's merely a role play, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Don't read too much into it.

Kierkegaard holds the string in two places to limit the swinging.

They arrive at the bakery on the corner of Dawson and Loveday.

They go in.

There is a well-spaced queue of customers.

Kierkegaard stands at the back.

He has plenty of time to think about what he will buy.

Four German rolls and a Danish. No, two Danishes, Gaius might like one. What about Terence? He doesn't eat......or does he?

Does Terence eat? asks Kierkegaard.

Remember when he choked on an apple? says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Right, says Kierkegaard. What shall we get him?

Hold me up to the display counter, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Not yet, says Kierkegaard.

A child goes out with a paper bag.

Can I have it NOW? asks the child.

Not yet, says her mother.

What's in the bag? asks Alexander-Red-Hook as the child is passing.

A Funny Face, says the child. And why are you talking?

I'm a parrot, says Alexander-Red-Hook. We never stop talking.

The child thinks of several more questions.

But her mother has left the bakery, and there's no time to ask them.

Woe! The Virus

Victor is driving.

Gaius is in the passenger seat.

Kierkegaard is in the back with Terence and his faux parrot.

You'll need rubber boots, says Victor.

I have my Crocs, says Gaius. They're waterproof.

But they do let the mud in, says Victor.

Too bad, says Gaius. I've suffered worse.

What's this? asks Kierkegaard, leaning forward. Will it be muddy?

It's a swamp, says Victor. Of course it'll be muddy.

I don't have rubber boots, says Kierkegaard.

Me either! says Terence. And nor does my parrot.

I don't need rubber boots, says Alexander-Red-Hook. I'll be airborne.

Air-born? says Terence.

Swinging free, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Like a plant in a hanging basket, held up by you.

Are there trees there? asks Terence..

He hopes so. He can hang her up in a tree.

There should be plenty of Mount Compass oak bush, says Victor.

You know the park? asks Gaius.

I do, says Victor. Last year I volunteered at the SwampFest.

A musical event? enquires Gaius.

No, an annual native tree planting event, says Victor. Of course, it won't be on this year.

Why not? asks Terence.

The virus, says Victor. Everything's off, so less people will catch it.

Will I catch it? asks Terence.

You're the only one who couldn't, says Victor. But you could pass it on.

Woe! says Terence.

Don't upset him, says Gaius.

I'm not upset, says Terence. Why can't I catch it?

You're made of cement, says Gaius.

Why can I pass it on? asks Terence.

Someone might touch you, says Gaius. But that is unlikely, since the SwampFest is cancelled.

Or he might touch someone, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Namely me.

Then you should be glad you're being held at arm's length, in a knotted string basket, says Kierkegaard.

Not right now, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

It is true. She is in the knotted string whatnot, on the back seat next to Terence, to whose leg she is adjacent. She shifts sideways.

Terence shifts too.

She's his parrot.

Get away, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

This won't do, says Gaius. We have all been together for a very long time now. No one is infected.

We can't be certain, says Victor.

Luckily it is only a seven minute drive from Middleton to Goolwa, where Victor has two spare bicycles.

He pulls up, and everyone gets out.

In The Freezer He Froze

Lauren has not found a balloon.

It is just as well really.

It wouldn't have helped Alexander-Red-Hook to fly.

Instead Lauren has given Terence a knotted string basket originally intended to hold hanging plants.

Gaius is helping Alexander-Red-Hook to get into it.

Oops. Not that hole, says Gaius. You've already got one leg in there.

It's like gloves, says Kierkegaard.

Or trousers, says Gaius.

Alexander-Red-Hook tries to pull one of her legs out.

Watch out! says Terence.

I am, says Alexander-Red-Hook. I'll tell you this much. Once I'm in this, I'm staying put.

Can you walk in it? asks Terence.

I don't know yet, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Why?

Because I'm not carrying you everywhere, says Terence.

I thought that was the idea, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

I don't usually carry a parrot, says Terence. They fly away and get things.

I bet your balloon parrot didn't, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

No it didn't, says Terence.

Are we ready? asks Gaius.

Yes, says Kierkegaard.

No, says Lauren. I've just had a government message to say I can re-open my shop.

Bad luck, says Gaius. We shall have to leave without you.

And how will you do that? asks Lauren. We were going to go in my car.

Do you have any spare bicycles? asks Gaius.

Only one, says Lauren.

It's a problem.

Knock knock. It's Victor the policeman.

Hello, says Victor. I'm very surprised at you, Lauren.

Why? asks Lauren.

Shredded crab and egg mayonnaise, says Victor.

Oh that, says Lauren. Waste not want not.

That crab was ALIVE, says Victor.

Not when I shredded him, says Lauren.

He didn't want to go back to Henley, says Alexander-Red-Hook. He hid in an icecream container. Someone put him into the freezer. He froze.

Victor looks sceptical.

But why would a fellow crab lie?

He lets it go. No pen anyway.

Leaving? asks Victor.

Yes, says Gaius. But we may have to wait for a bus. Lauren only has one bicycle.

I have two bicycles back in Goolwa, says Victor. Can I give you a lift?

Very kind, says Gaius.

Anything to get rid of you, says Victor.

Then he says: Only kidding.

No one believes him.

Lunch On The Road

It's the next morning.

Sweezus, Arthur, Belle and Marie are cycling back to Adelaide.

Arthur is in front.

Arthur, says Marie. Either get to the back or ditch that dead crab, please.

Arthur drops to the back.

Sweezus drops back too.

Thought you were gonna ditch it, says Sweezus.

I am, says Arthur. But not yet. We're being followed.

Sweezus looks behind.

It's Victor, in an unmarked vehicle.

What does HE want? says Sweezus.

Checking that we don't ditch the crabs, says Arthur.

Like we'd do that, says Sweezus.

They stop.

Victor catches up.

Just letting you boys know about the new regulations, says Victor. You're allowed to visit the regions. And it's still groups of ten. You can visit a café or restaurant, if you sit outside. But you can't order alcohol.

Yeah, says Sweezus. That's not why you're here.

You're checking up that we haven't ditched the crabs, says Arthur.

All right, says Victor. Where are they?

Dead one's here, says Arthur, waving the biobag which is made of cornstarch, and is already tearing.

Alexander-Curly (may he rest in peace) drops out onto the road.

Where did you get the biobag? asks Victor.

Lauren, says Arthur.

I'll let that go, says Victor. If you pick up the crab and  ......

But it's too late for that now.

An open-beaked bird is approaching. Swooping down. Picking up Alexander-Curly and lifting him bodily.

Flying away with his prize.

Jeez! I hate birds, says Sweezus.

What happened? cries Belle, who has turned back, with Marie.

A natural disappearance, says Victor. With witnesses. I'll write a report, and that will be that.

He takes out his notebook.

No pen.

I'll write it up later, says Victor. Now before I go, I need to sight the other crab.

He means Alexander-Groovy.

Here, says Belle. He's not quite as you remember.

Victor looks into the plastic container she offers him.

Shredded crab, with egg mayonnaise.

E-mew

Arthur comes in with a breakfast bowl.

You left this on the beach, says Arthur.

My old home! says Alexander-Red-Hook. Thank you Arthur. But now circumstances are different.

Yes, Arthur, says Gaius. The experiment is aborted. You and I will go bird-spotting. That is, if you're free.

I'm going, too, says Lauren. It's something to do, while the shop's closed.

Birds? says Arthur.

Parrots, says Terence.

Not parrots this time, says Gaius. The stipiturus malachurus intermedius.

Cool name, says Sweezus.

Otherwise known as the Fleurieu Peninsula southern emu-wren, says Gaius. They are endangered, but there are reports of pairs being spotted in the local swamp habitats.

An emu-wren? says Belle. How does that work?

I know! says Terence. It says E-mew!

I don't believe that for a minute, says Belle.

Marie, who came in behind Arthur, has googled the wren on her smart phone.

This is what they look like, says Marie.

Belle, Sweezus and Lauren crowd round Marie's phone.

Show me, says Terence. Hey! A parrot!

Let me see, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

No one lets her.

But it isn't a parrot.

It's so tiny! says Belle. And so cute! Russet and sky blue, with long wispy tail feathers.

Hence the name, says Gaius. Take a look, Arthur.

But Arthur's knee is bleeding, and Lauren has noticed.

Arthur probably shouldn't go bird watching, says Lauren. Not in the swamps.

Arthur agrees.

We're taking the crabs home tomorrow, says Belle.

Yeah, says Sweezus. Back to work. Got to work from home, the boss says.

Am I coming? asks Terence.

You could stay here and help Gaius, says Sweezus.

He has been quite helpful, says Gaius. Would you like to stay, Terence?

I need a balloon, says Terence.

I've probably got one, says Lauren.

Rage And Acceptance

Well, says Gaius. This is a setback.

What did she say? asks Kierkegaard.

It seems we've been using the wrong type of crab, says Gaius. Her study examined emerita analoga, the small sand burrowing decapod crustacean otherwise known as the mole crab.

I imagine that means our time spent on your study has been wasted, says Kierkegaard.

I fear so, says Gaius. We may as well abort now.

What a shame, says Lauren. What will you do with the crabs?

Terence will be pleased, says Gaius. He has obtained a new parrot.

Yay! says Terence. Where is it?

I refer to Alexander-Red-Hook, says Gaius. Did you not ask her?

He asked me, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Now he's forgotten.

I haven't, says Terence. But I nearly got two.

No you didn't, says Gaius. There's only one parrot.

Not even one, strictly speaking, says Kierkegaard.

Right! says Victor. This crab is to be returned to Henley with the other one in the salad bowl, and this dead one.

He drops the Monte Carlo packet onto the table.

I won't be returning to Henley for quite some time, says Gaius. Perhaps Arthur will take them. But no. I'll need Arthur.

Another project? asks Lauren.

Yes, says Gaius. While I'm here I intend to do some bird spotting.

How nice, says Lauren. I'm into birds. I could come with you.

Hum, says Gaius, trying to think of a reason why she shouldn't.

Luckily he is saved from an answer by the arrival of Sweezus and Belle.

What's up? asks Sweezus.

Wrong sort of crabs, says Gaius.

Bummer, says Sweezus.

Good! says Terence. I get to keep one. She's going to be my new parrot.

No kidding! says Sweezus. Is she the one that can juggle?

YES! says Terence.

What about Alexander-Groovy? asks Belle. What's his future?

Home to Henley, says Gaius. Perhaps you could take him. When are you returning?

Tomorrow, says Belle. Yes, we'll take him.

She goes over to the red salad bowl.

Alexander-Groovy looks up.

He has heard all that was said, and is torn between rage and acceptance.

Mole Or Two Dot

Gaius rummages through his notes.

There it is. Portland University, Oregon. Dorothy.

He calls the university.

Of course they won't give out her number.

But they will pass on a message.

Thank you, says Gaius. I am a natural historian currently working in the southern hemisphere ... err...hum....may as well talk myself up.... I am in fact Gaius Plinius Secundus, natural historian and oft-quoted writer. It's about her study of sand crabs and how microplastics affect their mortality. I've been trying to reproduce it, and would appreciate her advice re certain problems....

That's a long message, sir, says the person who answers the university's phone. I'll pass it on to her. Just leave your number.

Gaius leaves his number.

Now what? says Kierkegaard.

We wait, says Gaius.

How long for? asks Terence.

Yes, how long for? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

Are you trying to be a parrot? asks Terence.

No, just asking, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

YES! says Terence. That's what parrots do. They ask questions, and fly in the front.

I may need a balloon for the last thing, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

You may not, says Gaius. The experiment may well continue.

Ring Ring! It's Gaius's ringtone. Will it be Dorothy?

Hello, says Gaius. This is Gaius.

Hi there, says Dorothy. I mean, hello, Mr Secundus. I feel I know so much about you. You're kind of an icon.

Am I? says Gaius. Kind of you to say so.

How can I help you? asks Dorothy.

Did you get my full message? asks Gaius.

You're trying to reproduce my findings, and having certain problems. What are they?

Of six crabs, four have already died, says Gaius.

That seems normal, says Dorothy.

Of unnatural causes, says Gaius. Except perhaps one.

You only had six? says Dorthy. Why so few? Aren't they plentiful where you are?

I only had room for six, says Gaius. Two were in breakfast bowls, and four were in salad bowls. Wait, no. One was stepped on before he got in.

But sand crabs are so tiny, says Dorothy. I studied them in multiples. A salad bowl each seems...well...., like overdoing it.

Not that tiny, says Gaius.

Yes, really tiny, says Dorothy.

A moment of silence while Dorothy thinks.

Are we talking of emerita analoga? says Dorothy. The mole crab?

No, says Gaius. Ovalipes australiensis, the two dot crab.

Well then, says Dorothy. No wonder.

Indeed. No wonder, says Gaius. Well thank you, Dorothy. You have been most helpful.

Have I? says Dorothy. I mean, you're welcome. Enjoy the rest of your day.

The Perfect Balloon

That was sudden, says Gaius.

It was, says Kierkegaard. I was splattered. And Lauren had not finished.

Perhaps I'd done enough, says Lauren. Your board rash is disappearing.

Kierkegaard looks down at his tummy.

I see what has happened, says Victor. The fish has jumped out of the  jam jar.

So it has, says Gaius.

My fish! says Terence. It wants to go home.

And where might that be? asks Victor.

The sea, says Terence.

Victor looks suspicious.

It's gasping, says Lauren, picking up the small fish (unlucky).

Don't put it back in! says Terence. It hates it.

The small fish (unlucky) speaks up.

That's right. I hate it. Let me go back to the sea.

Of course you must go back, says Gaius. I apologise for leaving you behind in the jam jar. I was preoccupied with my crabs.

Yes, says Kierkegaard. We were going to discuss the crabs further.

Indeed, says Gaius.

He places the red salad bowl on the table.

Here's Alexander-Groovy, our one remaining subject. Apart from Red-Hook, the control crab.

Where's my bowl? asks Alexander-Red-Hook. Did you bring it?

Gaius strikes his own forehead. Drat! No! It's still down on the beach.

I'll text Belle, says Lauren.

Don't bother, says Alexander-Red-Hook. My bowl holds bad memories.

How can a bowl hold bad memories? asks Terence.

Bad memories for ME, says Alexander Red Hook. Alexander-Yellowsun and I were happy in our breakfast bowls. Then poof! our happiness crumbled.

Like a biscuit, says Terence.

Sort of, agrees Alexander-Red-Hook.

Would you prefer to live in my jam jar? asks the small fish (unlucky). It's vacant. I'm going back to the sea.

She WOULDN'T! says Terence. She's going to be my new parrot.

It's the first Alexander-Red-Hook has heard of it.

Ha ha! laughs Gaius. She can no more be a parrot than a balloon!

Ha ha! laughs Kierkegaard, picturing a crab as a balloon. And then a parrot as a balloon. And then a balloon as a parrot. And a crab as.....there's no end to it, really.

I had a parrot balloon, says Terence. It was perfect until someone burst it.

Yourself, as I recall, says Gaius.

It was an accident, says Terence.

I suppose it couldn't fly, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

You suppose right, says Gaius.

Do you REALLY want me to be your new parrot? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

YES! cries Terence.

I like a challenge, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Wait! says Gaius. You are contracted to me!

But surely the experiment is over, says Alexander-Red-Hook. It's now down to just Groovy and me. He's bound to die first. Experiment over.

That is my opinion, says Kierkegaard.

I shall have to think further, says Gaius.

He thinks further. Perhaps a phone call to that PhD candidate in America whose report in Science News inspired him.

Yes, he will seek her opinion.

Live Life Forwards

Terence scoops up the knucklebones, and catches up to Alexander-Red-Hook.

Have you ever TRIED? asks Terence.

Tried what? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

To fly, says Terence.

No I haven't, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Not in the air, anyway.

What in? asks Terence.

Water, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

This is promising.

If water, why not the sky?

He fails to ask if she succeeded.

They arrive at Lauren's shop.

Gaius and Victor are standing outside.

Hello, says Terence. Is it over?

It's in progress, says Gaius. That's why we're standing outside.

Terence looks at Alexander-Red-Hook.

We're standing outside, says Terence.

Whatever for? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

You misunderstand, says Victor. But that's just as well.

Hum. What? Yes, says Gaius. That is just as well.

We don't think so, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Is something happening in there?

Yes, says Gaius. We're waiting for the all clear.

Terence isn't waiting. He stands on tiptoes and looks through the shop window.

Beyond the knick knacks he sees Lauren making funny hand movements.

He sees Kierkegaard's feet. And Kierkegaard's board shorts, which have been tossed to the floor.

He also sees, in a jam jar, on the table, the small fish ( unlucky).

It's eyes goggle.

You shouldn't have looked in, says Gaius. But as you have, you now understand why we're waiting.

Terence doesn't. Grown ups are weird.

What did you see? whispers Alexander-Red-Hook.

Our fish! says Terence. Remember?

I do, says Alexander-Red-Hook. It came in with the sea water.

It's still there, says Terence. And it looks really SCARED.

It might not be scared, says Alexander-Red-Hook. It might just be hungry.

No, it wants to go home, says Terence.

Let me see, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Terence lifts her, so she can see for herself the small fish (unlucky).

The small fish (unlucky) sees Alexander-Red-Hook, through the window.

Her!

He must let her see that he no longer wants to live in the jam jar.

He leaps out of the jam jar, which is (as he knows) lidless.

He lands on the table. Water drops splatter.

Kierkegaard scrambles to his feet.

Assesses the situation.

Pulls on his board shorts.

You know I hadn't quite finished, says Lauren.

Life must be lived forwards, says Kierkegaard.

He opens the door.

You Have Cement Fingers

Your pen? No idea, says Gaius.

I lent it to Arthur, says Victor. He claims to have lost it.

Then he has lost it, says Gaius. You may borrow mine if you undertake to return it.

I can't undertake that until I see it, says Victor.

Gaius thinks this is strange.

But Victor is a policeman. He must be reliable.

Gaius feels in his pocket, but the pen isn't there.

Where did he put it?

Never mind, says Victor. Are we going?

Yes, says Gaius. I'll bring the salad bowl and Alexander-Groovy, if you'll bring the dead one.

In what? asks Victor.

Are you squeamish? asks Gaius. I imagined you carrying him by his good claw. Failing that, the packet of Monte Carlos is empty.

Victor scoops dead Alexander-Curly into the empty Monte-Carlo packet, and folds down the top.

Am I coming? asks Terence.

You may come, says Gaius. But first, let Belle know you're coming.

Terence runs down the beach to Belle, who is talking to Sweezus.

I'm going back to Lauren's shop with Gaius, says Terence.

Is he taking the crabs? asks Belle.

Yes, says Terence. Even the dead one. Victor says he has to.

How awful, says Belle.

Bye! says Terence.

Don't lose that medal, says Sweezus. It's Kierkegaard's. And hey! What happened to the knucklebones?

Don't worry! says Terence. I'll find them!

He runs back to the fold-up table, under which the knucklebones are airborne.

Woohoo! says Terence. Can you teach ME?

Probably not, says Alexander-Red-Hook. I am ideally formed to juggle, but you have cement fingers.

Not all of them, says Terence.

That's even worse, says Alexander-Red-Hook. But look. Gaius and Victor have gone back to Lauren's without me. Is the experiment over?

He probably forgot you, says Terence. Come with me.

On foot? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

Yes, on foot, says Terence. Unless you can fly.

Bring the knucklebones, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

She starts walking, crabwise.

Terence is thinking how good it would be if Alexander-Red-Hook could fly.

Because he needs a new parrot.

Old Knee Bleeds

Victor waits for Arthur to come out of the sea.

Here he comes now, with dead Curly. Blood trickles down from his knee.

Injured yourself? asks Victor.

The usual, says Arthur. It dried when I ran the potato race, but it got wet again just now.

Victor loses interest.

There are more pressing concerns than old knee bleeds.

Two things, says Victor.

One thing, says Arthur.

Victor is taken aback.

You don't contradict a policeman.

TWO things, says Victor. One: how do you intend to dispose of this crab?

Bin it, says Arthur.

Not in Middleton, says Victor.

Okay, says Arthur. If not here, where?

Henley, says Victor. I have reason to believe that's where it came from.

Fine, says Arthur. But I'll be here till the end of the week.

Have you a suitable container? asks Victor.

No, says Arthur. Ask Gaius.

I shall, says Victor. But first, where is my pen?

Where's my poem? counters Arthur.

Here in my notebook, where it's staying until I regain my pen, says Victor.

I must've lost it, says Arthur. Sorry.

Victor gives up, or appears to.

He heads back to Gaius, who has picked up the salad bowl containing Alexander-Groovy.

Where are you off to with that? asks Victor.

Back to Lauren's, says Gaius. I promised to reattach his claw with some fish glue.

I remember your fish glue, says Victor. It stinks.

Lucky Alexander-Groovy isn't listening.

He is miles away, imagining a rosy future.

The rosy future: He has his old claw back. He is whole. Alexander-Red-Hook, feeling lonely, approaches him for comfort. He encircles her fondly and surreptitiously inserts.....

We'll leave it there. And it's NOT going to happen.

I'll accompany you, says Victor. I have two questions.

Ask away, says Gaius.

In what do you intend to place the dead crab, while it's being transported to Henley?

I had not thought. Newspaper?

No, says Victor. Try again.

A biodegradable bag, says Gaius. Lauren will have one.

I could be pedantic, says Victor.

Go on, says Gaius.

Strictly speaking, it should be a bio-bag from Henley, says Victor. Not Middleton.

That IS pedantic, says Gaius.

I know, says Victor. By the way, where is my pen?

Ripped Into Science

Victor is now eye to eye with Alexander-Red-Hook.

How did you come by those knucklebones? asks Victor.

I picked them up, says Alexander-Red-Hook. They had been put down.

Put down, eh? Where might that be exactly? asks Victor.

On the table, says Alexander-Red-Hook. When Lauren was offered a biscuit. She put them down.

All right, says Victor. So they were Lauren's.

Not at the time, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Ho! A complication.

Victor will need his notebook.

He turns to see Arthur showing the notebook around.

Belle and Marie are admiring The Short and Tempestuous Life.

It's beautiful, says Belle.

It's not meant to be, says Arthur.

She means the font, says Marie. You used Curly.

Yes, the font, says Belle. It's nice. But the poem is dark and regretful.

That's what I was going for, says Arthur. And an undertone of natural violence.

Let's see, says Sweezus, coming over.

He reads the The Short and Tempestuous Life.

Sheez! How does Arthur do it? He's captured the pathos of Curly's life and casually ripped into science.

Cool one, bro, says Sweezus.

Thanks, bro, says Arthur.

Is this Victor's police notebook? asks Marie, noting the blue cover, which is visible.

It is! says Victor, appearing behind them. And I need it back immediately.

He wrests it from Arthur's hand.

This is not proper procedure, but Victor is in a hurry.

He dashes back to the table under which Alexander-Red-Hook is already rearranging the evidence.

Terence is down there as well.

Look! says Terence. She can juggle.

It's true. She has learned it from memory.

She can juggle with five.

Now then, says Victor. Why did you claim they were not Lauren's knucklebones AT THE TIME?

I know! says Terence. Ask me!

I'm not asking you, says Victor. I'm asking the crab.

See this medal? says Terence. It's mine AT THE TIME. We both won them!

Victor is almost glad that he does not have the pen that he left with Arthur.

And can not write this nonsense down.

What would he write, anyway?

But he should get his pen back.

He turns to find Arthur.

But Arthur has waded into the sea to retrieve the sad little body of Alexander-Curly.

Before which, he has handed Victor's pen to Gaius.

Who has been delighted. A pen!

Which he has pocketed.

He can always rely on the providence of Arthur.