Kindness Rubs Off

Saint Roley addresses the turnip.

Saint Roley: Mind if I join you?

Turnip: Mfffff...

Saint Roley: Arthur tells me you pleaded to be pulled from the ground.

Turnip: Fmmmm....

Saint Roley: You can talk to me. I'm empathetic.

Turnip: It was a pot.

Saint Roley: Ground, pot, what's the difference?

Turnip: Fuzzy creatures.

Saint Roley: Ah, do you like fuzzy creatures?

Turnip: Not at all. They nibble my tops.

Saint Roley: They have to eat something.

Turnip: It's easy to be empathetic when you have wings.

Saint Roley: Good point. So you pleaded.

Turnip: No. I never pleaded.

Saint Roley: Arthur must have misunderstood. He did say it was more like a feeling.

Turnip: Yes, he felt me. He poked his fingers down past my sides.

Saint Roley: Assessing your girth, perhaps.

Turnip: Whatever. Then suddenly there I was, uprooted.

Saint Roley: I know how that feels.

Turnip: You couldn't.

Saint Roley: I could. I was hatched in Saint Malo.

Turnip: And where is that?

Saint Roley: Far from here. France.

Turnip: We're going very slowly.

Saint Roley: Arthur bought one of those cheese and spinach pasties from the pie shop.

Turnip: I know them. No wonder he's flagging.

Saint Roley: Thick greasy pastry. Slimy cheese. Salt. Yellow spinach.

Turnip: Why is it yellow?

Saint Roley: Don't know. For some reason it tends to go yellow.

Turnip: Perhaps the effect of the cheese.

Arthur stops.

His stomach feels like the inside of a cement mixer.

Saint Roley (poking his head out): Are you feeling all right?

Arthur: No. I'm stopping. Got cramps.

Saint Roley: From eating that pasty. Take your time. Would you like a water?

Arthur: I've used all the water.

Saint Roley: Don't worry. I'll find some.

Turnip: You're so kind.

Saint Roley: Would you like to come with me?

Turnip: No I'll wait here with Arthur. In case he needs anything.

Saint Roley: That's nice of you.

It is nice of him.

And he's never been a nice turnip.

Kindness rubs off, (we may suppose).