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.