Holding Ronnie At Ninety

Gaius gazes out from the bird hide, keeping a list in his head.

Superb fairy wren, New Holland honeyeater, White-browed scrub wren, Latham's snipe.

If only he had a pencil.

Or Victor's red pen.

There is a thudding sound beyond the bird hide.

Terence crashes in.

Guess what? I found a pencil!

Well done, Terence, says Gaius. And not before time. I have spotted several common species and one Latham's snipe, which is less common.

It's called Ronnie, says Terence. See?

It is indeed, says Gaius. But Ronnie needs sharpening.

He was sharp when I found him, says Terence. I wrote on my arm.

Soft lead, says Gaius. Perhaps a 2B.

He takes Ronnie from Terence and begins to write Superb fairy wren in his notebook, with the blunt end of Ronnie.

He has to hold Ronnie at ninety degrees to the paper. Even then the writing looks scratchy.

Superb fa.... writes Gaius. It's no good, I'll need a sharpener.

Vello and Kierkegaard edge themselves into the bird hide.

Anyone got a sharpener? asks Gaius. This pencil is too blunt to write with.

Lick the end, says Terence.

Licking the end would be pointless, says Gaius.

Very funny, says Vello, But it's turned out rather lucky that you need a sharpener.

How so? asks Gaius.

Vello winks at Kierkegaard, who is standing there nursing the phone.

Because Kierky has made a new friend in the School Swamp, says Vello. A lady teacher, called Angelina. They exchanged phone numbers. So her number is there on your phone.

Hum, says Gaius. It does seem fortuitous, but I can hardly call Angelina and ask for a pencil sharpener when I don't know her.

That's the beauty of the situation, says Vello. Kierky is reluctant to call her without a good reason. Now he has a reason.

I see, says Gaius. No harm in it, I suppose.

Do we know when school finishes? asks Kierkegaard, still worried about the timing.

Google the school, says Gaius. You can find out the school hours.

Kierkegaard is familiar enough with other people's phones to know how to google.

He googles the school.

School hours are from 8.45 to 3.15, except on Wednesdays, when they finish at 2.20, says Kierkegaard. No, wait. What's today's date?

 The third, says Vello.

What of? asks Kierkegaard.

July, says Vello.

The school holidays start today, says Kierkegaard. They get out at 2.15. What time is it?

Two o'clock, says Vello.

Kierkegaard realises he has fifteen more minutes for overthinking.