Kierkegaard And Angelina

Find somewhere to sit, children, says Mrs Bennett. Mr Kierkegaard will talk to you while you eat lunch.

Kierkegaard is beset by anxiety.

He knows little of children.  What will he say?

He stands, thinking.

You'd better start talking soon, says the girl who looks like Lily. We eat fast.

Leanne! says Mrs Bennett.

Perhaps the children would like to ask questions, says Kierkegaard.

Perhaps, says Mrs Bennett. But usually one gives a talk, then invites questions.

Of course, says Kierkegaard. I shall commence by speaking of the importance of subjective truth and self-becoming.

Perhaps you could use terms suitable for children, says Mrs Bennett.

Certainly, says Kierkegaard. I shall describe an imaginary situation. Let us say, I am engaged to be married.

Who to? asks Leanne.

Is doesn't matter, says Kierkegaard.

It does, says Leanne.

The lady is imaginary, says Kierkegaard.

Then how about we make up a name, says Mrs Bennett.

Angelina, says Leanne's best friend, Chloe.

That's my name, Chloe, says Mrs Bennett. Is it all right if you are engaged to be married to Angelina, Mr Kierkegaard?

Kierkegaard is not at all happy being engaged to Angelina. But it seems impolite to object.

Angelina, says Kierkegaard. We are engaged. We are happy. But then I start thinking. I'm happy now but if I get married I will cut off all other possibilities. Perhaps this is not who I am.

It isn't! says Terence. You said you were imaginary.

Ha ha! laugh the children.

Stop laughing, children, says Mrs Bennett. It's rude. Mr Kierkegaard is a philosopher. That means he likes to think about different possibilities. In this story he is thinking about whether or nor it is right for him to get married. It's a big decision.

Thank you, Angelina, says Kierkegaard. Shall I go on?

I think the children have finished their sandwiches now, says Mrs Bennett. It's time to pick up sticks and return to our school.

I thought this was your school, says Kierkegaard.

Mount Compass School is our school, says Mrs Bennett. This is our School Swamp. We're very lucky to have it.

Indeed, says Kierkegaard. And now, I suppose I should be getting back to my colleagues.

Did you get married? asks Mrs Bennett.

No, says Kierkegaard.

Oh, says Mrs Bennett. Did you instead self-become?

I'm still in the process, says Kierkegaard.

Aren't we all, says Mrs Bennett.

The children start closing their lunch boxes, and packing them into their back packs

Will one of them drop a pencil?

Terence is waiting.

Ticked Off Three

What is the School Swamp? asks Kierkegaard.

Where they drop pencils, says Terence.

It's a strange concept, says Kierkegaard.

They don't do it on purpose, says the emu-wren. They're not meant to leave anything behind.

Oh, says Kierkegaard. So, if we find a pencil....

We can keep it, says Terence. Come on!

Soon they hear sounds of children, not far away.

The emu-wren stops.

What time is it?

Almost midday, says Kierkegaard.

They'll be having their lunch soon, says the emu-wren.

Will they have dropped their pencils? asks Terence.

It's not that simple, says the emu-wren.

Do we make ourselves known? asks Kierkegaard.

You can, says the emu-wren. I never do. But they sometimes spot me.

Don't you want them to? asks Terence.

I don't care, says the emu-wren.

Maybe you should, says Terence. They might give you crumbs.

I don't eat crumbs, says the emu-wren.

They are now close enough to hear what the children are saying. They are sitting together, comparing their lists.

I've ticked off three, says a girl who looks like Lily, ( but isn't).

Which ones? asks her friend, who looks like her.

Let's see! says a boy who looks like most boys.

Hello! says Terence.

Why aren't you wearing your school hat? asks the one who looks like Lily but isn't.

Don't have one, says Terence.

The boy who looks like most boys taps Terence's cement head with a ruler.

That's enough! says Kierkegaard, stepping forward.

What's going on here? asks Mrs Bennett, the teacher, also stepping forward. Who are you?

Sören Kierkegaard, says Kierkegaard. Forgive me if we've trespassed. I have been following this infant.

O have you? says Mrs Bennett. Are you his dad?

No, says Kierkegaard. But he's with me and my two colleagues. We're bird spotting in Stipiturus Conservation Park.

Really? Any luck? asks Mrs Bennett.

An emu-wren, says Kierkegaard. A few parrots.

The class is bird spotting today, says Mrs Bennett. Children, this is Mr ..... what was it?

Kierkegaard, says Kierkegaard.

That name rings a bell, says Mrs Bennett. Are you a poet?

No he isn't, says Terence. He's a scientist.

Not at all, says Kierkegaard. I'm first and foremost a philosopher.

Whoa-ah! says Mrs Bennett. What an interesting person. May I prevail upon you to talk to the class while they're eating their sandwiches?

Kierkegaard is flattered.

Not Nearly There Yet

Gaius ponders the arrow which Terence has made.

No doubt it means something.

He will seek a second opinion.

Gaius walks back to the bird hide.

Remembered where you left your pencil? asks Vello.

No, says Gaius, but Terence has left me an arrow. Come and see it.

Can't, says Vello. I'm in the middle of texting the office.

I'll come and look at the arrow, says Kierkegaard.

Gaius returns to the arrow, with Kierkegaard.

Are you sure it was left by Terence? asks Kierkegaard.

These are his footprints, says Gaius.

There are one or two visible footprints, with toes.

And look! says Kierkegaard. Bird footprints, going off in the same direction.

Gaius peers at the bird prints.

One of us should follow, says Gaius.

Yes, says Kierkegaard. Me or you?

You, says Gaius. You may borrow my phone. Call Vello, if there's a problem.

Very well, says Kierkegaard.

He takes Gaius's phone and starts following the footprints, which soon become fainter.

I'll continue in this direction, thinks Kierkegaard. And call out his name.

Terence!

Terence is not far ahead. He hears him.

So does the emu-wren.

MAN! says the emu-wren. Keep your head down!

Okay, says Terence. Are we nearly there yet?

Nearly there yet! scoffs the emu-wren. We can't be nearly there YET.

Kierkegaard crashes through the understory.

There you are! What are you doing?

Keeping our heads down, says Terence.

You and who else? asks Kierkegaard.

Me and him, says Terence.

But him is not there. Him has hidden under a soft water-fern.

He was here, says Terence. He's taking me to the School Swamp.

Whatever for? asks Kierkegaard.

To find Gaius a pencil, says Terence.

Kierkegaard laughs. He had not expected that answer.

I'll come with you, says Kierkegaard. Where is this School Swamp?

The emu-wren decides that the MAN is not threatening. He emerges.

Follow me, says the emu-wren.

Terence and Kierkegaard follow the emu-wren.

Kierkegaard hums, and fingers the phone in his pocket.

Until recently, life has been uneventful.

Strange Lives Of One

Terence and the emu-wren set off through the low vegetation.

Coral fern, soft twig rush, pithy sword-sedge.

How come there's only one of you? asks Terence.

How come there's only one of YOU? asks the emu-wren.

Because I'm me, says Terence.

Same here, says the emu-wren. Why are you asking?

Science, says Terence. Gaius and Kierkegaard came here to count you.

One, says the emu-wren. That's me.

But, says Terence, have you got friends here?

Yes, we sometimes have foraging parties, says the emu-wren.

With balloons? asks Terence.

No balloons, says the emu-wren. That would be stupid.

Why stupid? asks Terence.

We're foraging, says the emu-wren. That means looking for insects and spiders. You shouldn't alert them, with balloons.

No, says Terence. Not when you're foraging. What about after?

We go our own ways, says the emu-wren.

Terence thinks about that for a minute.

Have you ever floated away? asks Terence.

No, why? asks the emu-wren.

A parrot of mine didn't, but his brother did, says Terence. I just wondered.

Wondered what exactly? asks the emu-wren.

If you had, says Terence. He floated away and Saint Roley never saw him again. We think he followed a finger.

Like Gaius, following your arrow? asks the emu-wren.

No, says Terence. YES! Maybe we should go back to meet him.

He won't be floating, says the emu-wren. So there's no danger.

They move through the low vegetation in silence.

Thinking of the strange lives of others.

Meanwhile Gaius has discovered the arrow.......

School Swamp

Keep him talking, says Gaius. I'm going back for my notebook.

Okay, says Terence.

Where's his notebook? asks the emu-wren.

In the bird hide, says Terence. But he won't have a pencil.

Ha ha, laughs the emu-wren. Want to come somewhere with me? There might be a pencil.

Why do I want a pencil? asks Terence.

To give to him, says the emu-wren. So he can write in his notebook.

About what? asks Terence.

About me, says the emu-wren. Come on.

Why will there be a pencil? asks Terence.

A kid might have dropped one, says the emu-wren. They drop things they're not supposed to.

Terence understands this. He drops things he's not supposed to as well.

How far is it? asks Terence.

As far as the School Swamp, says the emu-wren. I'm a bird, but I'm not a fast flier. We could run through the low vegetation.

Okay, says Terence, but I should tell Gaius.

Leave an arrow, says the emu-wren. That's what the kids do.

Terence would love to leave an arrow, pointing in the direction of the School Swamp, so Gaius will know where he's gone.

Where's the arrow? asks Terence.

Are we equals? asks the emu-wren. Find your own arrow.

Terence looks about for an arrow. There isn't one.

Make one, says the emu-wren. You can use stones or sticks. Or draw one in the mud with your finger. But if it rains the mud will close up and your arrow will be useless.

Terence decides to use sticks.

To find the right stick, break it and form an arrow, then place it so it points to the School Swamp, takes ages.

You would think Gaius might have returned with his notebook.

But no. He can't find a pencil.

The Opposite Of Me

MAN! squeaks the emu-wren.

That's just Gaius, say Terence.

What's he doing? asks the emu-wren.

Coming, says Terence.

Then I'm off, says the emu-wren.

He's probably coming to get me, says Terence. Not you.

Are you endangered? asks the emu-wren.

Not these days, says Terence.

That's the opposite of me, says the emu-wren. I am these days.

We should stick together, says Terence.

Why? asks the emu-wren. What would that do?

We'd be equal, says Terence. I'd be me, and you'd be my parrot.

I wouldn't... begins the emu-wren.

He is interrupted by Gaius.

Wonderful, Terence! says Gaius. The emu-wren lets you come close.

We were looking for the poo, says Terence. I don't want it, but he does.

Fascinating. Ask him why, says Gaius.

Because it's going to be on the weather, says Terence.

And it might win a prize, says the emu-wren.

It's the photo that might be on the weather, says Gaius. And there are no prizes.

What about for the original? asks the emu-wren.

We're looking for the original, says Terence.

Let me see the bottoms of your feet, says Gaius.

But Terence won't. He doesn't want anything discovered.

He shuffles his feet on the grass.

Never mind, says Gaius. It's not important. What is important is this breakthrough.

Yes, says Terence. This breakthrough. I'll have to feed him. He only eats ants.

I don't, says the emu-wren. I eat insects and spiders.

And how many would you estimate there are of you, in this area? asks Gaius.

One, says the emu-wren. Wait, is it August?

Not yet, says Gaius. By my reckoning it's not yet July.

One then, says the emu-wren.

What happens in August? asks Terence.

Hey-hey! says the emu-wren You don't want to know.

Breeding season, says Gaius. You needn't be coy around Terence.

No, says Terence. I know about breeding seasons. You have to NOT ruin the eggs.

That's a nice thing to say, says the emu-wren.

I know, says Terence.

Super Tiny Poo

Ant legs! says Terence. In the bird poo!

Yes indeed, says Gaius. It's not that unusual.

Come on! says Vello. Ants in the poo might not be unusual, but it's a good capture. An emu-wren shitting at close quarters. And it's good of the tail feathers.

Of course, says Gaius. I admit it's good of the tail feathers.

Well done, Terence, says Kierkegaard. Perhaps you should enter it in a competition.

I will, says Terence. How do I do it?

You could send it to the ABC weather, says Gaius. They often use photographs that people send in.

So they do, says Vello. Imagine. And now for the weather. Tonight's photo of a rare emu-wren crapping has been sent in by Terence, of Barcelona.

Not Barcelona, says Gaius. He'd be disqualified. Terence of Adelaide.

What's the prize? asks Terence.

I don't think there is one, says Gaius. But everyone will see it.

Woop, says Terence.

He stomps out of the bird hide and over to the bush where he took the famous no-prize-winning photo.

The emu-wren has come back.

How did I look? asks the emu-wren.

I thought you could only say squee, says Terence.

You thought wrong, says the emu-wren. How was the photo?

It was mainly of poo, says Terence.

My poo? asks the emu-wren.

Yes, says Terence. And it had ant legs in it.

Tell me about it, says the emu-wren.

It might win a prize, says Terence.

(He knows that it wouldn't).

My poo? asks the emu wren.

It'll be on the weather, says Terence.

I wonder where it is now? says the emu-wren.

In the sky, says Terence.

Not the weather, says the emu-wren. It'll be somewhere down there.

What do I care? says Terence. I've got a photo.

But I produced the original, says the emu-wren.

Poo isn't original, says Terence.

I beg to differ, says the emu-wren.

They both start looking in the low vegetation.

Emu-wrens are very tiny. They weigh seven point five grams at most.

Their poo must be super tiny.

Nevertheless, Terence soon puts a foot in it.

Ker-lick! The Capture

I may have just spotted a Southern emu-wren, says Kierkegaard. Over there in that bush.

He hands the binoculars to Gaius.

Gaius looks through them. He makes a small adjustment of focus.

I believe you're right, says Gaius. Shall we try for a photo?

He takes out his phone.

What you need is a proper camera, says Vello.

Yes, says Terence. I wish you had a proper camera.

One with long distance high resolution features, says Vello.

That would be useful, says Kierkegaard.

The phone will suffice, says Gaius. It's just for the record.

Can I do it? asks Terence.

No, says Gaius. You will make noises, and the Southern emu-wren will be frightened.

What noises? asks Terence.

Never mind, just be quiet, says Gaius.

He holds up his phone.

Ker-lick! Ker-lick! He takes two, just in case. He reviews them.

It's flying off, whispers Vello.

No, it's stopped a bit further away, whispers Kierkegaard.

Drat! says Gaius. The leaves are in focus, the bird isn't.

That's what I find with these phones, says Vello. The phone decides what's important.

What noises? asks Terence.

Ker-lick, says Kierkegaard.

He thinks it's funny.

I wouldn't say that, says Terence.

It was a joke, says Kierkegaard. Gaius's phone made a clicking noise and the bird was startled. Luckily it hasn't gone far. There it is, see?

Gaius can't see the bird, or the joke.

I can! cries Terence. Let me take a photo!

But Gaius is reluctant.

Vello gives Terence his phone.

Try mine. Press the camera icon, then press here, says Vello.

Terence runs out of the bird hide with the phone, straight up to the bush in which the emu-wren is perching.

It turns its flimsy wee emu-tail towards him.

Terence presses the camera icon. Then the click button.

Ker-lick!

P-lip, goes the emu-wren.

See, says Terence. We all make noises.

The emu-wren hops down and runs like a mouse through the low vegetation

Terence returns with his photo.

Ha ha, brilliant! laughs Vello, when he sees it. You chose your moment.

Let me see, says Gaius. Interesting. He flicks his fingers across the screen to enlarge it.

The tiny bird poo reveals some of its secrets.

The ant legs of Max.

Tiddle Wriggle Twitch

Vello gets back first.

Those binoculars, says Vello.

What about them? asks Gaius. Does Paloma want them back?

I believe so, says Vello, but she has already gone back to Adelaide.

Then we'll keep them, says Gaius.

That's what Terence said. I'm surprised at you, says Vello.

Not in perpetuum, says Gaius. Just until we next see her. I suppose she has Terence's shorts.

No, she doesn't, says Kierkegaard. Here he is now, with them on.

Terence enters the bird hide, in his gecko shorts.

That's better, says Gaius. I expect you feel much more comfortable.

I LOVE these shorts, says Terence. So do parrots.

Parrots are unlikely to love shorts, says Kierkegaard.

THESE shorts, says Terence. Because of the geckos.

You can hardly make them out now, says Gaius. All the geckos have faded.

Even E-mews, says Terence. One came right up to me.

Really? says Gaius. What did it look like?

Brave, says Terence. It pecked a squashed ant off my leg and flew away laughing.

Attracted by the ant, not the geckos, says Gaius.

You're a stickler, says Terence.

For the truth, yes, says Gaius.

It's not a tadpole, says Terence. What is it?

He thought a stickler was some sort of tadpole, says Vello.

He must have been thinking of a tiddler or a wriggler, says Gaius.

Were you? asks Kierkegaard.

No, says Terence. But I am now.

Or a stickleback, says Gaius. Why were you talking about sticklers anyway?

Vello said you were one, says Terence.

I was stickling up for you, Gaius, says Vello. Ha-ha. Stickling up. Do you get it?

But Gaius pursues the original insult.

About what?

I simply said you would not think it right to keep the binoculars, says Vello. But it seems I was wrong.

So you're a wriggler, says Terence.

I have already explained that, says Gaius. Holding onto them is a practical but temporary measure.

I agree, says Kierkegaard. No point in pedalling all the way back to Adelaide now to return them.

He puts up the binoculars, adjusts them.

He sees sky. He looks lower.

Red brown branches, spiky thin leaves, obscuring (but not entirely) six filamentous feathers, twitching.

Squopped By An E-mew

The camper has vanished.

Paloma must have gone back to Adelaide, says Vello. She said she was going.

Now what? asks Terence.

My tent's still here. Let's see if she's left anything in it, says Vello.

Terence pushes his way through the tent flap.

Yes, there are his shorts neatly folded, on top of Gaius's back pack.

Yippee! cries Terence.

Vello pokes his head in.

Good. Now put them on.

Terence doesn't want to, until he's made sure that the ant has dropped out of his bumcrack.

He stands still for a minute.

Nothing there feels like an ant.

He pulls on his gecko shorts.

And emerges.

Very good, says Vello, I don't suppose she's left anything else, like a packet of biscuits?

Terence goes back in. And comes out with a note.

Binoculars missing!

That will teach her to go without saying goodbye, says Vello. How are we supposed to return them?

We can't. says Terence. That means we can keep them.

Gaius won't want to, says Vello. He's a stickler.

Is that like a tadpole? asks Terence.

Yes, says Vello, not wishing to explain that a stickler is not like a tadpole.

So how...? begins Terence. Yerk! That ant's on my leg now!

It may not be the same one, says Vello.

It IS! says Terence.

Let's go back, says Vello. We need to tell Gaius about the binoculars.

Terence presses down on the ant with his finger.

Vello is already heading for the bulrushes.

Terence follows.

But before he goes through....

A tiny bird stops him.

Squee-squee!

What? says Terence.

Squee-squee-me, says the bird.

It's grey brown with a blue chin and throat and a tail filamentous.

An E-mew wren.

Squop! it commands him.

Terence squops. No reason not to.

The E-mew comes right up to Terence and pecks the squashed ant off his leg.

Then it flies off, unaware it was the adventurous Max he's just eaten.

Where Max Went

It's crowded in the bird hide.

And no birds are in sight.

Gaius and Kierkegaard take turns looking through the binoculars.

Vello plays with the string.

Terence sits on the ground, morosely.

Thinking about what just happened.

Stupid parrot.

Stupid jellybean.

Look, says Vello. Cat's cradle.

Terence looks. Vello has made something clever, out of string.

Vello makes a fast hand movement. Ping!

I want to do it, says Terence.

Okay, says Vello. I'll show you.

Terence moves closer.

Get back! says Vello. There are ants climbing up you.

Wah! cries Terence.

Stamp about, says Vello.

Not in here, says Gaius. They'll climb up our legs next.

Come out here with me, Terence, says Vello.

They leave the bird hide.

One or two ants stay behind.

No. Make that six or seven.

Now let's brush you down, says Vello.

He knocks a few ants off Terence's feet and legs.

I bet you wish you had your unicorn pants on, says Vello.

I do, says Terence.

Or your shorts, says Vello. Shall we go back to the camper and get them?

Yes, says Terence. Yikes! There's one in my bumcrack!

I'm not touching that one, says Vello.

They are passing the Thyme-leaved spyridium.

Ants are swarming round the jellybean's remains. Bits of the jellybean are being carried off, in a specific direction.

Look at that! says Vello. That's what attracted them.

He and Terence make their way through the gap in the bulrushes.

The ants keep on working.

Did you hear that? says one ant to another.

No, I wasn't listening, says the other.

One of us has gone up the kid's bumcrack, says the first one.

That'll be Max, says the other.

Infant Scientist Ruins Everything

What's going on back there? asks the parrot.

Back where? asks Terence.

Where the string came from, says the parrot.

The camper, says Terence. Nothing. It's going away.

You don't fool me, says the parrot. It's coming from those bushes.

We're trying to catch an E-mew, says Terence. With a jellybean on a string.

So that was a jellybean, says the parrot.

Was? says Terence. Where is it?

I dropped it, says the parrot. Right there.

It points down at Terence's feet.

Terence moves sideways, and looks at the spot on which he was standing..

This is what he sees.

A flattened bean shape, studded with crazed sugar fragments, almost transparent, but for traces of pink.

That's not it, says Terence.

The parrot doesn't reply.

Don't you believe me? asks Terence.

I know what I know, says the parrot.

So do I, says Terence. Would you like to know what I know?

No, says the parrot. Well okay. I'm not doing anything.

I'm a scientist, says Terence. I know all about crabs. Before that I knew all about parrots.

I'm a parrot, says the parrot. What kind am I?

Not a real one, says Terence. A real one is grey and says pruu.

That sounds like a feral pigeon, says the parrot.

They can sound like anything, says Terence. I used to live on a palace.

With the pigeons, says the parrot. What happened?

I fell off and became a scientist, says Terence.

The parrot is losing interest.

Okay. I'll be off now. If I see any feral pigeons I'll let them know you're watching for them from a bird hide.

But..... says Terence. Don't you want to...?

No, it doesn't.

Terence tramps back to the bird hide.

What's the matter? asks Gaius.

I'll never get a new parrot, says Terence. And I stepped on the jellybean. Everything's ruined.

Did you speak to the parrot? asks Vello.

Yes, says Terence. I probably shouldn't have told him I was a scientist.

You told him that? asks Vello.

And I told him he wasn't a real parrot, says Terence.

Why would you tell him that? asks Vello.

To prove it, says Terence.

Two Bright Sides

You're no seed, says the parrot.

Never said I was, thinks the jellybean.

He can't say it, because his surface is crazed.

It's a miracle he even heard the parrot's statement.

The string has come off, that's a good thing.

Al least he can feel.

Always a bright side, thinks the jellybean.

The parrot drops him, but remains perched on the branch of Thyme-leaved spyridium.

The MAN has stopped trying to frighten him and gone back to the bird hide.

The jellybean lies on the ground, voiceless.

He wonders if this time he's screwed.

Tramp tramp. It's Terence and Vello returning.

Terence is in front.

He runs straight past the jellybean and into the bird hide.

Guess what? My parrot's at school!

Hush! says Gaius.

Yes, hush! says Kierkegaard. Why aren't you wearing your pants?

They kept unrolling, says Terence.

Fair enough, says Kierkegaard, but where are your shorts?

In the camper, says Terence. Aren't you astonished?

No, says Kierkegaard. That's where I guessed they would be.

Not my shorts, stupid, says Terence. My parrot! Lily took her.

Alexander-Red-Hook? asks Gaius.

Yes, says Vello, entering the bird hide. Your last crab's at a show and tell morning.

Well, well, says Gaius. An unexpected outcome.

She will no doubt astonish Lily's classmates, says Vello.

I hope she will pay due regard to our reputations, says Gaius.

Why wouldn't she? asks Kierkegaard. We have little to be ashamed of.

But we made certain mistakes, says Gaius. Choosing the wrong species of crab, for example.

She wouldn't reveal that, says Kierkegaard. Put yourself in her place.

And there were mix-ups, says Gaius.

Some she wasn't aware of, says Kierkegaard. Look on the bright side.

Look, says Terence. A parrot!

He has seen the red-rumped parrot, perched nearby, on a branch of spyridium.

Stay out of sight! says Gaius.

Too late. Terence has left the bird hide, run a few steps then stopped running and walked slowly up to the spyridium and stopped thereunder.

(Thereunder. It means under the place already mentioned).

The parrot stares down at Terence.

Terence's eyes are fixed on the parrot.

Terence hasn't looked at the ground for one moment.

He is unaware of on whom he is standing.

A Sinister Way

The jellybean lies on a stone, facing upwards.

He already regrets his decision.

What's the best that can happen? He doesn't get eaten or stabbed.

Might as well have...

Too late for second thoughts now. Here comes a BIRD!

It has a red rump.

Squarr! says the bird. Yummo! A big fat bent seed!

It comes closer, looking.

Wrkkk! String! says the bird. Not usual.

The jellybean stiffens.

It's now that someone should jerk him.

But no one does.

In the bird hide, Gaius and Kierkegaard are discussing their options.

It's not an emu-wren, says Gaius. It's a red-rumped parrot.

Terence would like it, says Kierkegaard.

But if we pull the string now, says Gaius, we lose our advantage.

I don't see why, says Kierkegaard. We can put the jellybean back when the parrot has gone.

But word will get out, says Gaius.

What do you suggest? says Kierkegaard.

One of us frightens the parrot away, says Gaius.

I'll do it, says Kierkegaard. I'm feeling stiff. I could do with some movement.

Very well, says Gaius. We needn't tell Terence.

No, we needn't, says Kierkegaard.

He stands and steps out of the bird hide.

The red-rumped parrot looks up.

A MAN!

Is he holding the end of a string by any chance? asks the jellybean.

No, says the parrot.

Just my luck, says the jellybean. Actually, would you mind nudging me just a little?

Kierkegaard is coming closer, flapping his arms in a sinister way.

Wree-ark! squawks the parrot.

It takes the jellybean in its beak and flies into a Thyme-leaved spyridium.

I take it you don't know what nudge means, says jellybean.

I'll do it now, says the parrot.

He whacks the jellybean against a rough branch of spyridium.

Now the jellybean's surface is crazed.

Bad News And Bad News

The string is tied round the jellybean's widest circumference.

He is placed in the open, not far from the bird hide.

In the bird hide, Kierkegaard holds the other end of the string.

Gaius and Vello share a pair of binoculars they found in the camper.

No birds are in evidence.

No birds yet, says Terence. Want me to make bird sounds?

Not in here, says Gaius. Just keep your eyes peeled.

Squee-squee!

I heard something, says Vello. A squee-squee!

The emu-wren call, says Gaius. This is promising.

When do I run out? asks Terence.

You don't, says Gaius. You lie low and listen.

Squee-squee!

I'll never get a parrot, says Terence.

You already have a parrot, says Kierkegaard.

Quiet! says Gaius.

Terence is stricken. Yes! He does have a parrot! Alexander-Red-Hook!

Where is she? cries Terence.

I'll take Terence back to the camper, says Vello. We'll find his parrot.

Keep a low profile, says Gaius. Watch out for the string.

Vello and Terence sneak out of the bird hide.

Vello steps over the string.

Terence decides to go under. He lifts up the string.

Hey! cries the jellybean. In which scenario does this happen?

A new one, says Terence. I go and find my old parrot.

I wasn't told, says the jellybean.

It doesn't involve you, says Vello.

He moved me! says the jellybean.

He moves all of us, says Vello. He's a manipulative child.

Vello replaces the jellybean in his old position.

He and Terence go back to the camper.

Paloma is there.

I'm just packing up now, says Paloma. Anything of yours here?

My parrot, says Terence. I forgot it.

Perhaps that's just as well, says Paloma. I have bad news.

No you don't, says Terence. Bad News is tied up near the bird hide with string.

We borrowed a short length of your string, dear lady, says Vello.

Hardly borrowed, says Paloma. I assume that you cut it. And I do have bad news. Lily has taken your crab back to Adelaide. I've just had a text from my husband.

No harm done, says Vello. I assume the crab was willing.

She wouldn't be, says Terence.

Look on the bright side, says Vello. She wasn't a parrot.

She knew parrot things, says Terence.

Lily is taking her to school for show and tell, says Paloma. Your crab will astonish the class with her knowledge of parrot things.

Terence is coming round to acceptance.

His crab-that-wasn't-a-parrot will astonish the class. A proud moment.

And Scenario Three promises him a new parrot.

A real one this time.

Science Before Safety

It's a well equipped camper.

Kierkegaard has found scissors and string.

A fine type of string, that will go round a jellybean without being too bulky.

Can I tie it? asks Terence.

No, says Kierkegaard. I'll do it.

Has anyone asked me if I'm willing to do this? asks the jellybean.

We should, in good conscience, says Gaius. There are obvious dangers.

List them, says the jellybean. In fact, write them down.

We don't have time to write them down, says Gaius. We'll do that later.

When it's too late, says the jellybean. We jellybeans always learn of dangers too late.

Yes, says Terence. Like talking.

That's not one, says Gaius.

Rain, says Terence.

Nor that, says Gaius.

Allow me, says Vello. List of dangers about to be faced by.... what name do you go by?

Bad News, says the jellybean.

By Bad News, continues Vello.

SCENARIO ONE:
You are out in the open, tied to a string at the other end of which is a man. The man is watching you from a bird hide. A bird is attracted by your shape. It lands nearby and hops closer. Pounce! It stabs you. The man must now decide on an action.

Pull me to safety, says the jellybean.

Depends on the man, says Vello. There are those among us who put science before safety.

Okay, says the jellybean. I'll have to factor that in. What's another scenario?

SCENARIO TWO: (says Vello).

Again you are out in the open, tied to a string. But at the other end of the string is Terence. A bird approaches, with parrot features. Terence allows the parrot to swallow you before pulling the string.

He doesn't like me, says the jellybean.

I do, says Terence. But I need a new parrot.

SCENARIO THREE: (continues Vello).

You are out in the open, tied to a string. At the other end of the string is no one. Terence has run out of the bird hide, and fallen into a muddy puddle. His unicorn pants have unrolled, All three men are engaged in his rescue.

That's unlikely, says Gaius. One of us would do. 

Even so, the attention of the other two would be diverted, says Vello. To continue: a bird approaches.

A parrot? asks Terence.

Not necessarily, says Vello. The jellybean tries to escape the bird on its own.

That's what I WOULD do, says the jellybean.

Let me finish, says Vello. Due to your jellybean shape the string is tied round your widest circumference. All your other circumferences are shorter. As you move, the string naturally loosens.

I'm free! cries the jelly bean.

And can no longer be pulled to safety, says Vello.

I do like Scenario Three, says the jellybean. It gives me autonomy. I'll do it.

I like it too, says Terence.

Your pants get wrecked, says the jellybean.

But I get a new parrot, says Terence.

Vello looks at Gaius. That was Scenario Two.

Gaius gives him a thumbs up.

Bad News For Teeth

The jellybean can obviously hear us, says Kierkegaard. Does that mean it has ears?

I heard that, says the jellybean. Why not ask me?

Because you won't know, says Terence.

I may have a theory, says the jellybean.

Let us hear it, says Gaius.

Everything's inside, says the jellybean.

Hah! says Terence. Let's cut you open and see!

No need for that, says Gaius. We could request an x-ray.

What a crackpot idea, says Vello. An x-ray.

Can one simply request an x-ray? asks Kierkegaard.

I find dentists are only too happy, says Gaius.

I'm not going to a DENTIST! cries the jellybean.

Why not? asks Terence, who has never had to go to a dentist.

I'm bad news for teeth, says the jellybean.

Terence is impressed with this claim by the jellybean.

He's BAD NEWS FOR TEETH.

I'm sure we can get round that, says Gaius. Meanwhile we're here, where there are no dentists, but there may well be emu-wrens. Shall we head across to the bird hide?

Can I come? asks Terence. My pants are rolled up now.

Indeed they are. Rolled up into fat flannelette rings at knee height.

Can you walk properly? asks Gaius.

Yes, says Terence. But my feet can't.

Ha ha, laughs the jellybean. Old Man!

YOU can't come, Bad News, says Terence.

Now then, says Kierkegaard. No name-calling.

But the jellybean shouldn't come, says Vello. He almost caused the death of a thornbill.

How so? asks Gaius.

Vello shows him the photo.

Hmm, says Gaius. So birds find him attractive. He might lure them out.

Using a dangerous jellybean as bait seems like a dodgy practice, says Vello.

We'd take precautions of course, says Gaius.

String, says Kierkegaard. String round the jellybean. Then we'd jerk it away if required.

It's a good idea. Foolproof.

They search the camper for string.

Gelati Not Quite Right

When Vello and Terence return to the campsite, Lily has gone.

It's a school day, says Paloma. She went back in the car with her dad.

What about...? begins Terence.

She left you her unicorn pyjamas, says Paloma.

Yippee! says Terence. Can I put them on?

Go ahead, says Paloma. They're in the camper.

Terence races for the camper.

Vello lingers outside.

You were up early, says Paloma. Were you cold in the camper?

Not at all, says Vello. Terence and I went out in the hopes of finding something unusual.

Like an emu-wren? asks Paloma.

No luck there, says Vello. But I did get an interesting photo.

May I see it? asks Paloma.

He shows her his snap of the thornbill.

A yellow-rumped thornbill, says Paloma. What's that on its bill?

A jellybean, says Vello. That's something you won't see every day.

It won't be able to eat! says Paloma.

It will, says Vello. I removed the jellybean. This is it.

He opens his palm, revealing the jellybean.

You've done a good deed, says Paloma.

Thank you, says the jellybean.

I believe she meant me, says Vello.

To her credit, Paloma does not show surprise.

Well, says Paloma. I'm off to plant these Osborn's Eyebright seedlings. I'll be leaving at eleven, in the camper. Make yourself at home while it's here.

Vello enters the camper.

Gaius is drinking coffee, while Kierkegaard is helping Terence step into the unicorn pyjamas.

They're too long! cries Terence.

We'll roll up the bottoms, says Kierkegaard.

Saucer! says Vello. I have found a curious object.

Must it be a saucer? asks Gaius. This is a camper. They only use mugs.

It's a jelly bean! says Terence, hopping.

Stop hopping! says Kierkegaard. Keep still. Hold onto the leg of the table.

What's curious about it? asks Gaius.

Many things, says Vello. It speaks, for one thing. But it claims to be a mouth, so perhaps that's understandable. Other characteristics it displays are inexplicable.

Gaius puts his coffee cup down.

Most things are explicable, says Gaius.

It commented on my hat, says Vello.

Who wouldn't? says Kierkegaard looking up from his pyjama bottom rolling.

It is a good hat, says Vello. But the point is, it must have seen it.

The question is, says the jellybean, what with? And here's another one. How do I know the capital of Italy?

It thinks it's being tested, says Vello. I assured it it wasn't.

What is the capital of Italy? asks Gaius.

Gelati, says the jellybean.

Not quite right, says Gaius.

Ha ha, you need to bone up! says Terence.

You can talk, says the jellybean. You look like an old man with your trousers rolled up at the bottom.

I DO NOT! shouts Terence.

I grow old, I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled, says the jellybean.

Remarkable! It quotes T S Eliot, says Gaius.

Spontaneous Fungus

Vello rolls the jellybean in the palm of his hand.

He examines its smooth exterior.

Will you answer one question? says Vello.

No, says the jellybean.

He answered it! says Terence. Ask ME a question.

How does it see? asks Vello. Assuming of course that it does.

Eyes, says Terence. And guess where they are?

Enlighten me,  says Vello.

Here, says Terence, pointing to the top of his head.

Those are Smarties, says Vello.

What's he pointing at? asks the jellybean.

The Smarties on top of his head. says Vello.

My fellow Smarties? asks the jellybean.

YES! says Terence. They were the eyes on the Funny Face.

Those are fake eyes, says the jellybean. A biscuit can't see.

I know, says Terence. They're not there to see.

Not where? asks Vello.

Anywhere, says Terence. They're there to make kids look.

I thought so, says Vello.

What's my fate now? asks the jellybean.

You are coming with us to the campsite, where you will be put in a saucer, says Vello.

Then what? asks the jellybean.

Gaius, Kierkegaard and I will examine you, says Vello.

Like a test, asks the jellybean. What's the capital of Italy?

Not like that, says Vello. There will be questions.

Can I bone up on the answers? asks the jellybean.

What's bone up? asks Terence.

Study, says Vello. No you can't. We'll want spontaneous answers.

What's spontaneous? asks Terence.

A type of fungus, says the jellybean.

So it doesn't know everything. That's one less question the philosophers will need to ask.

One Or Two Stab Holes

The jellybean is refusing to cooperate.

But Vello will not be defeated. He turns on the charm.

An interesting life you must have led, says Vello.

Pah! says the jellybean.

My own life has also been interesting, says Vello.

So has mine, says Terence.

I spent some time in the Bastille, says Vello.

I used to live in a palace, says Terence.

Vello nods at Terence. Good. Terence is playing along.

The jellybean HAS led an interesting life for a jellybean.

It decides to reveal it.

I began life as a spoonful of sugar, says the jellybean.

Red sugar? scoffs Terence.

Vello frowns.

BEGAN life! says the jellybean. Allow me to tell my own story.

How long is this story? asks the yellow-rumped thornbill. I have things to do.

I haven't even listed my ingredients, says the jellybean.

What if I come back later? suggests the thornbill.

What if we do the reenactment and then you can leave, says Vello. Terence and I will stay and listen to the jellybean's fascinating story.

You're intelligent, for a human, says the jellybean. And I do like your hat.

I wear it when I'm on holiday, says Vello. So, will you do it?

Agreed, says the jellybean.

The yellow-rumped thornbill prepares to stab the jellybean for a second time.

NOOO! cries the jellybean. Not like that!

I understand the jellybean's concerns, says Vello. He has a ready-made hole from the last time he was impaled on your bill. He doesn't need another one.

No, I don't need another one, says the jellybean.

Vello picks up the jellybean, and assists the thornbill to insert its bill into the hole it made earlier.

Next, Vello snaps a photo. It's a winner.

Am I in it? asks Terence.

The top of your head is, says Vello. I might have to crop it.

No, don't crop it, says Terence.

The jellybean is removed from the bill of the thornbill.

Can I go now? asks the thornbill.

Certainly, and thank you, says Vello.

The thornbill flies off.

Okay, says Terence. Mouth, tell us your story.

Is it just a mouth? asks Vello.

(Kierkegaard would have known this).

Yes, says Terence. That's why it talks.

But, says Vello. If it's just a mouth, how did it see my holiday hat?

This is worth pursuing.

Pink Is Possible

Where were you when you lost it? asks Vello.

Just near where it is, says Terence.

Naturally, says Vello. But can you be more specific?

Terence thought he had been specific.

They have come through the gap in the bulrushes, that he made with his stick.

Vello has skirted the muddy patch.

Terence has stopped in the middle.

Why have you stopped in the mud puddle? asks Vello.

I'm looking for a plant with red seeds, says Terence. It was right near this puddle.

I think I see it, says Vello.

He points to a clump of red fruit saw sedge.

As luck would have it, it's the one the jellybean leapt into.

That's it! cries Terence, squelching out of the mud.

Vello is already peering into the saw sedge.

Nothing in here resembling a jellybean, says Vello.

Bumhole! says Terence.

Of course, it may not be red now, says Vello. It rained yesterday evening. It may have gone white.

u-u u-uu-uu! comes a semi-bird-sounding sound.

They turn. It's a yellow-rumped thornbill, its bill stuck through a small object.

I say! says Vello. That might be your jellybean!

No way. It's pink! says Terence.

It didn't rain all that much, says Vello. Pink is possible.

uu-uu! says the yellow-rumped thornbill.

I wonder if it would allow me to help it, says Vello.

Of course it would. That's what it's been asking.

Vello approaches.

He smiles the smile he usually reserves for ladies.

The thornbill is charmed.

Pop! Vello pulls the pink jellybean off with his thumb and first finger.

He hands the pink jellybean to Terence.

You again! says the pink jellybean.

The yellow-rumped thornbill flies off a short distance.

What a pity, says Vello. I ought to have taken a photo.

The yellow-rumped thornbill returns.

Go ahead, says the thornbill.

With your bill through the pink sweetie, says Vello. It's unusual.

The thornbill is willing to re-enact it, but the jellybean isn't.

Not yet.

Beware Marxists

Vello wakes up early. Very early. It's cold.

Where is he?

In a strange bunk, in a camper, with his holiday hat at his feet.

There is Kierkegaard, in a lower bunk, and Jim, Lily's dad, up the top.

Gaius is snoring under a table.

Ah yes. He is here on a visit. He brought his tent, but lent it to the children.

And the seed-planting mother.

Vello gets out of his bunk, grabs his hat, pulls on his camping boots and goes outside.

Except for the cold, it is delightful. The dawn light cuts through the trees. It reminds him of Ferney.

Perhaps he will spot a rare bird. Or some other creature.

He stands still, hoping to spot something unusual.

Boo! says Terence, poking his head through the tent flaps.

You still have those two Smarties on your head, says Vello.

Good, says Terence. And soon I'm getting unicorn pyjamas.

I came outside in the hopes of spotting something unusual, says Vello.

Me too, says Terence.

I suppose I look somewhat unusual, says Vello.

No, says Terence. You look like you.

What about the hat? asks Vello.

I used to have one like that, says Terence. Grandpa Marx bought it for me in Melbourne. I lost it.

Bad luck, says Vello.

Bad people took it off me, says Terence, remembering the bad people.

Were you by any chance at the Marxist Conference? asks Vello.

Yes, says Terence.

Ahah! says Vello. Beware people who think property is theft.

Lily is GIVING me her pyjamas, says Terence. She doesn't like them.

Why is that? asks Vello.

They've got horns, says Vello.

You don't say? says Vello. That must be uncomfortable. Well, are you coming inside?

No, says Terence. I'm going to look for my old red jelly bean. It talked. And I swallowed it, And then it jumped out of my mouth and into a bush I remember.

I don't think you should go on your own, says Vello. You might not remember.

I'm SURE I remember, says Terence. It was through the gap I made with my stick on the other side of the muddy puddle but just a bit further.

I'll come with you, says Vello.

He is feeling benevolent, even fatherly, for some reason.

Call it the holiday spirit.

He and Terence set off to look for the jelly bean together.

The Zen Tree

In the camper, under the table, Gaius stirs.

He has heard something moving outside.

He is awake now, and thinking.

Gaius's thoughts:

I wonder what that was? A bandicoot, sniffing at the bananas? Where's my phone?  Drat. Now I need to... but what if it was the ladies? I'll wait a few minutes, then go.

He lies awake, listening.

Boobook!

A boobook calls.

That must mean the ladies have returned to their tent.

If it was the ladies.

Gaius stands up, avoiding bumping his head on the table.

He tiptoes outside.

He moves gingerly, in the dark.

The bandicoot is waiting.

Hahem!

I heard the call of a boobook, says Gaius. But before that, I thought I heard you. Not you in particular, but one of your species.

The bandicoot says nothing.

And then, says Gaius, I thought it might be the ladies.

Right both times, says the bandicoot. It was me. I was here for the bananas. I slipped. Then out of the tent came an infant and a girl, not a lady. We spoke for a while. I offended the girl. I do sometimes say things....

Dear me, says Gaius. Would you mind holding the conversation while I relieve myself. I'll just be two seconds.

People say this. I'll just be two seconds.

We all know it takes longer to pee.

The bandicoot doesn't mind waiting, however.

Gaius comes back from behind a low tree.

Continue, says Gaius. You offended young Lily?

About her pyjamas, says the bandicoot.

I'm sure she'll have forgotten all about it in the morning, says Gaius.

Mm, says the bandicoot. I came back to apologise. But perhaps I don't need to.

I'll pass it on, says Gaius. It was nice of you to come back though. Wait. So, there were other ladies?

Yes, says the bandicoot. A human and a crab.

Gaius wonders if he should ask what the ladies had been doing.

He decides against it.

They came out for a piddle, says the bandicoot. It's a bit late to tell you this now, but they used the same tree that you did.

Of all the trees, slaty sheoaks, beaked hakea, tea trees, prickly and silky, small bulloaks, and so on, it would have to be that one.

Here the philosophy of Zen can be helpful.

Leave The Prince Out

Lily and Terence creep back into the tent.

Terence is not good at creeping.

He awakens Paloma.

Uh-huuuh! says Paloma. She sniffs.

Bananas! Have you been outside?

We heard a bandicoot! says Lily.

You've got good ears, says Paloma.

It slipped on a banana, says Terence. It was lying down. Its toes were stuck together.

But that was just normal, says Lily.

For the toes, says Paloma. But look at your pyjamas!

I don't like them anyway, says Lily.

I'll have them! says Terence.

Maybe in the morning, says Paloma.

You can have my gecko shorts, says Terence.

No thanks, says Lily.

Why didn't you wake me? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

I thought you were coming, says Terence. Anyway the bandicoot is a niverous creature so you escaped being eaten.

OM-niverous, says Lily.

That's what I said, says Terence.

OM! says Lily.

That's what rocks say, says Terence. OMMM. It means listen.

That's a nice thing to know, says Paloma.

It might not mean that, says Terence.

What else might it mean? asks Lily.

Shut up, says Terence.

Rocks wouldn't say shut up, says Lily.

We don't really know that, says Paloma. But it's still night time. Go back to sleep now.

I need a wee first, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

So do I, says Paloma.

They both go outside.

That story you told, about the mermaid, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

You weren't there, says Paloma.

Terence told me , says Alexander-Red-Hook. I know that story. You left out the prince.

I usually leave the prince out, says Paloma,

Alexander-Red-Hook understands this. If she had crab daughters, she'd do the same.

The Solitary Creature

Get back! says the bandicoot! I'm a solitary creature.

We know, says Lily.

I didn't, says Terence. What's a solitary creature?

One that prefers to forage alone, says the bandicoot.

But it looks like you fell over, says Lily.

Slipped, says the bandicoot. On this banana.

Ha ha! laughs Terence. Like a CLOWN!

Would you like a hand? asks Lily. Just to help you stand upright?

Okay, says the bandicoot.

Lily advances.

Nice pyjamas, says the bandicoot.

Bit babyish, says Lily.

Unicorns, says the bandicoot. Do you know why they're so popular?

No, says Lily. Do you?

I've got a theory, says the bandicoot. It's to do with the horn.

Show me your foot, says Lily. Yuck! it's all stuck up with banana. Let me wipe it.

No, says the bandicoot.

What about the horn? asks Terence.

Girls like them, says the bandicoot.

No they don't, says Lily.

They don't know they like them, says the bandicoot. It's Freudian.

Luckily Alexander-Red-Hook has remained in the tent.

She might have demolished this theory.

Two of your toes are fused together, says Lily.

That's just normal, says the bandicoot.  Five toes on each foot, and the second and third toes on the hind feet fused together.

What's that for? asks Lily.

I don't know, says the bandicoot.

Lily has wiped some banana on the sleeve of her pyjamas.

Do you like bananas? asks Lily.

I'm omniverous, says the bandicoot.

What's NIVEROUS? asks Terence.

He eats anything, says Lily. Insects, spiders, worms, plants, whatever.

There's a bird in our tent, says Terence. A parrot.

Don't listen to him. There isn't, says Lily.

I can hear something moving, says the bandicoot.

It's my mum, says Lily.

Well, I'm off, says the bandicoot.

Have a good night, says Lily.

Enjoy your unicorn pyjamas, says the bandicoot.

They're really just horses, says Lily. That's what girls like.

A Slide And A Gurgle

In the tent.

Paloma and Lily are asleep.

Terence is awake, as always.

Alexander-Red-Hook squeezes in sideways.

Too much snoring in the camper, she whispers. It's quieter in here.

We had a story, says Terence.

I love stories, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

You wouldn't love this one, says Terence.

What was it? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

The Stupid Mermaid, says Terence.

I know all about mermaids, says Alexander-Red-Hook. I use to live in the sea.

Are they stupid? asks Terence.

They're actually seals, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Well, this one wasn't, says Terence.

There is a sliding noise ( slii---iide) , outside the tent, and a gurgle (gulp---eee).

What was that? asks Terence.

Nothing, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Tell me the story.

Okay, says Terence. You'll be disgusted.

Try me, says she.

Once upon a time, begins Terence, there was stupid mermaid who wanted to be a human and she drank a potion and got feet.

Foof, comes a noise from outside. Bugger!

Go on, says Alexander-Red-Hook. So she got feet, then what? 

Every step felt like sharp knives, says Terence.

But it was too late, says Alexander-Red-Hook. She'd drunk the potion.

Yes, says Terence. It was too late.

Yerk-yerk! a distressed sound arises, awakening Lily.

Bandicoot outside! whispers Lily. It's probably eating the banana. Let's go and see.

Wait, says Terence. I'm telling the mermaid story.

Where are you up to? asks Lily.

Feet, says Terence. 

Stabbing like knives, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Is there a happy ending?

She turns into an air spirit for three hundred years, says Lily. She has to do good deeds. You tell me if that's happy.

Is there a reward? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

She gets a human soul, says Lily.

See! says Terence. Stupid!

At least she wouldn't have feet, says Alexander-Red-Hook. 

But Terence and Lily are creeping outside.

It's dark, damp, and smells of bananas.

A bandicoot lies on it's back, with one leg up.

Uff! Bananas!

Paloma cuts up the bananas.

Terence and Lily take them outside.

I wish we were staying overnight, says Lily. We could spy on the bandicoots.

I'm staying overnight, says Terence.

I'm not, says Lily. At least I don't think so.

Ask, says Terence.

They go back inside.

Is it still raining? asks Paloma.

Not much, says Lily.

That's good, says Paloma, perhaps it'll stop altogether.

Can we stay overnight? asks Lily.

No, says Paloma. We have to go home.

We're staying, says Vello. I have brought a small tent to sleep in.

Is it big enough for your friends? asks Paloma.

Unfortunately not, says Vello. Possibly, one of them.

There is always the bird hide, says Gaius.

I wish we were staying, says Lily. We might see the bandicoots.

That would be lovely, says Paloma. But I didn't bring toothbrushes or pyjamas. And what would we have for dinner? And what would your dad say?

It seems she has thought about it already.

Please, please! says Lily.

All right, I'll phone dad, says Paloma. He can bring takeaway, and our pyjamas.

Lucky, says Terence.

Why am I lucky? asks Lily.

Pyjamas, says Terence.

Kierkegaard is thinking the same.

.....

An hour later, night has fallen.

Jim has arrived with toothbrushes, pyjamas and four pizzas.

This enough food? asks Jim.

Too much dad, says Lily. Which pyjamas did you bring?

Unicorn pyjamas, says Jim.

Dad! says Lily.

Kierkegaard produces the sandwiches from the café.

A fine addition to the feast, says Gaius.

He pokes at the sandwiches. Ugh! Tomato! No! Excellent! This one is plain cheese.

You don't like tomato? asks Paloma.

He believes they are poisonous, says Vello.

I do, says Gaius. But don't let me stop you eating tomato.

I'm surprised you eat pizza, says Jim.

It's only the seeds, says Gaius.

.....

Can me and Terence sleep in the tent? asks Lily.

We don't have a tent, says Paloma.

But HE does, says Lily.

HE's sleeping in it, says Paloma.

We'd fit, says Terence.

Vello looks alarmed.

What if Jim sleeps in the tent with you? says Paloma.

I don't think... says Vello.

No, says Jim. Nor do I.

.....

Later.

Rain patters on the roof of the camper.

It is peaceful inside.

Except for the sounds of men snoring.

Hurrr-sneee! Uch! Uhhhhuh! and so on.

Jim, Vello, Gaius, and Kierkegaard are asleep in three bunks and under a table.

(Gaius is under the table. Something Romans don't mind).


.....

In the tent, Paloma tells stories to Terence and Lily.

Once upon a time....


.....

A short distance away, a solitary bandicoot sniffs the night air.

Uff! Bananas!

The Wrong Gardener

Was it Candide? asks Paloma. In the Botanical Gardens? Last Fringe?

The Fringe before last, says Vello. Our outdoor production.

You played Doctor Pangloss, says Paloma.

I played Martin, says Vello. But Pangloss and I were dressed much the same.

Like gardeners, says Paloma. Yes! Costa was in it!

That was not the real Costa, says Vello. It was one of our actors.

He was good, says Paloma. Very funny. There was a scene in a sink hole.

Of necessity, says Vello. The garden collapsed.

By now they have arrived at the camper.

In you go, says Paloma.

Gaius is inside, with Terence, Lily, and Alexander-Red-Hook.

Lily is drawing emu-wrens, in a note book.

Gaius is warming his hands on a mug of hot coffee.

I hope you didn't go to the trouble of bringing me a coffee, says Gaius.

We did, says Vello. Here it is. From the Mount Compass café. Somewhat tepid.

I can warm it up, says Paloma. If anyone would like it.

No one would like it.

It sits on the table, going cold.

We were remembering our last production of Candide, says Vello. Paloma was at it.

Do you remember me? asks Gaius. I played the Old Lady.

You don't say? says Paloma. I was convinced you were a genuine old lady.

I wore a cushion on one buttock, says Gaius.

I was the Stink Bug! says Terence,

You were an excellent Stink Bug, says Paloma.

Were you really a Stink Bug? asks Lily. What was your costume?

Orange eyebrows, says Terence. And a Stink Button.

Well, says Kierkegaard. You all surprise me, having these hidden strings to your bows.

You don't act yourself? asks Paloma.

No, says Kierkegaard. The Tour Down Under, the crab experiments and bird watching are my first efforts at steering away from philosophy.

That's remarkable, says Paloma. And..... is that a banana, in your pocket?

Vello suppresses a laugh, at the comic potential.

Kierkegaard pulls out three bananas.

What a shame, says Paloma, they are past their best aren't they? We should put them outside for the bandicoots.

Wonderful idea, says Gaius. I take it you mean the southern brown bandicoot. Aren't they rare here?

Yes, says Paloma. They are rare here, but a few have been spotted.

Kierkegaard hands her the bananas, with a degree of regret.

He would have eaten one, he likes them soft and mushy, but now the bandicoots will have them.

Flatterers

The journey takes more than twenty minutes.

Vello doesn't want coffee to spill in his hat.

The coffee is in a takeaway cup with a lid, inside the upturned hat with the side flaps tucked round it.

He rides his bike slowly.

Kierkegaard rides beside him, with the sandwiches in his left shorts pocket, and three soft bananas in the right.

You go ahead if you want to, says Vello.

But I came back to show you the way, says Kierkegaard.

I'm sure I could find it, says Vello. You could leave markers.

That would involve stopping, says Kierkegaard.

But I'd enjoy finding the markers, says Vello

I take it you crave adventure? asks Kierkegaard.

Life is dull at the moment, says Vello. That's why I came.

We are not doing anything exciting, says Kierkegaard. We sit in a bird hide all day.

But you are looking for something, says Vello.

A southern emu-wren, says Kierkegaard. Terence has spotted one or two.

So he claims, observes Vello

So he claims, agrees Kierkegaard. But Lily, the girl he was with, spotted them too. It seems the emu-wrens thought Terence's parrot was a spider, and came close, but took fright soon after.

Vello remembers that Terence's parrot is a crab in reality, which makes sense of the spider.

He feels a few drops of rain on his nose.

Will we have a camp fire? asks Vello.

I don't think that's allowed, says Kierkegaard.

The bird hide is empty, when they arrive.

Kierkegaard leads Vello through the gap in the bulrushes.

Paloma has finished her day's planting.

Gaius is in the camper with Terence and Lily, says Paloma. You're welcome to join them.

Very kind, says Kierkegaard. This is Vello by the way. A colleague and fellow cyclist. Vello, this is Paloma. She's been planting seedlings

Well met, dear lady, says Vello. I admire your ecological determination.

Ha ha, laughs Paloma. You look familiar. Are you an actor?

Vello is flattered. No doubt she has seen his Candide.

The Blackberry Incident

Kierkegaard arrives at the Mount Compass café.

Vello is sitting outside.

There you are, says Vello.

Here I am, says Kierkegaard,

Existential greetings out of the way, they enter the café.

Back again? asks the owner.

For sandwiches, says Vello. Do you do them?

The owner points to a list of sandwich fillings on a chalk board.

Cheese, says Vello. What kind of cheese is it?

Local cheese, says the owner.

Cheese then, says Vello. Can you make them up fast?

How many? asks the owner.

Three, one with tomato, says Kierkegaard.

Make that two with tomato, says Vello.

And one without, says Kierkegaard.

What kind of bread? asks the owner.

A few dots will suffice for this part of the order. These days there are many types of bread. Then there is butter. Do they want it? Salt and pepper?

( pepper, no salt, some detail is permitted)..............

At last they are on their way. Did I mention that there were no apples?

And that Kierkegaard has made a snap decision, to buy bananas? The bananas show spots of brown. Vello has managed to bargain them down to forty cents per banana. He is good at such things. Kierkegaard would have paid the full dollar.

Kierkegaard has also gulped down a coffee while waiting for the sandwiches.

He has been plagued by a question. Should he take a coffee back to Gaius?

Vello has said not to bother, it would go cold on the journey.

Kierkegaard has dithered. Then he has spotted Vello's hat.

And suggested to Vello that such a hat would keep a coffee (with a lid on) warm for at least twenty minutes.

His hat! Vello has never before kept coffee warm in his hat.

There was that time when he was not allowed on the bus with a punnet of blackberries, and had hidden them under his hat and the driver had said that his hat was too tall to wear on the bus and so Vello had punched the hat down in a fit of anger and blackberry juice had dribbled down his face and the driver had called an ambulance, which he had to talk his way out of .....

But the situation is not really similar.

And Gaius is his friend.

He agrees to the use of his hat.