Where's Your Family?

 You okay? asks Louisa, catching up.

Sure, says Arthur. 

Wishing you were in France? asks Louisa.

Only if it was last year, says Arthur. 

How's Sweezus going? asks Louisa.

Crashed twice, says Arthur. 

Hah, says Louisa, hoping it sounds like whatever Arthur is expecting.

What kind of tyres is he using? asks Louisa.

How do I know? says Arthur. 

Alaphilippe won stage two on tubed clinchers, says Louisa. 

Are you following it? asks Arthur.

Course I am, says Louisa.

They ride on in silence.

A family of Glossy Black Cockatoos watches them from the branch of a sheoak.

.......

Sweezus feels better after crashing.

Vello is more sympathetic.

Here, says Vello. Let me take a few of those snacks. David you take some too. And your drink bottle.

Thanks boss, says Sweezus. Lucky I fell on on the same injury. No new ones.

Good man, says Vello. Carry on. How about leading us out?

Sweezus speeds up.

He draws level with Richie.

Hey Richie, says Sweezus.

Hey Sweez, says Richie. Sorry I didn't talk to you yesterday. 

No worries, says Sweezus. How ya doin?

Good, says Richie. Thought I'd better come,. No Froomey or Thomas this year.

Yeah, that's good, says Sweezus. What else is new?

Second child on the way, says Richie. I'm going to miss it.

That's a bugger, says Sweezus. 

Yep, says Richie, speeding away.

Sweezus thinks about Terence. What's he doing now? Who's he with? Yeah, Gaius.

......

Terence is not with Gaius. He is at the playground, with Perrot and family.

Perrot wants to move on.

Where's your family? asks Perrot.

On a palace, says Terence.

Ha ha laughs Claudine. You can't be on a palace.

I'm not, says Terence. But they are, unless there was a bomb.

What's this nonsense? says Perrot. Who brought you to Kangaroo Island?

Gaius and Arthur, says Terence. And Louisa. And Saint Roley.

Where are they? asks Perrot. And who is Saint Roley?

My parrot, says Terence. 

He's down at the shore, says Alfonse, who knows about parrots.

Terence has explained all about them.

Sun-Warmed Orange Lichen

 Saint Roley flies back to the playground. Is Terence all right?

Yes, he is playing with Claudine and Alfonse, Perrot's children.

One by one they shoot out from the bottom of the tube slide.

Plop! Out pops Alphonse.

Plop! Out pops Terence.

Plop! Out pops Claudine.

Saint Roley decides to take a break from his self-imposed responsibilities. 

He flies down to the shore and starts looking for molluscs.

Way down at the other end of the bay, Gaius is inspecting a fossil. 

Porntip pokes at the sun-warmed orange lichen.

Yes. This is happiness.

Further down the road, heading for the burnt regions, is Arthur.

Some distance behind him is Louisa.

Giving him some space.

Arthur is imagining various scenarios.

One: Sweezus has crashed and broken a clavicle. 

Two: Arthur flies to Nice. 

Three: Arthur replaces Sweezus in the team. No one is any the wiser.

Arthur decides that although this would teach everyone a lesson it's not worth the effort.

His phone rings again.

Sorry bro, says Sweezus. Fell off my bike.

Thought so, says Arthur. Break anything?

No way, says Sweezus. And the bike's good, which is lucky. Boss paid for it.

Vello? says Arthur. How come?

I'm riding for Team Philosophe, says Sweezus. Yeah I know, bummer.

Who else is in Team Philosophe? asks Arthur.

Just me, David and Vello, says Sweezus. Imagine being in a Team Bubble with them.

What do they talk about? asks Arthur.

Who'll do the freakin' picnic on rest day, says Sweezus. Belle isn't here.

Merde! says Arthur. Who fills your musettes?

No one, says Sweezus. It's shithouse. We have to carry .......ARGHHH!

It seems he has fallen off his bike a second time.

Let's hope he's okay.

At least Arthur feels better.

Riding Like Maniacs

 Arthur appears not to care because he hasn't yet heard about Sweezus.

Arthur and Louisa therefore ride towards the burnt regions, oblivious.

Until.

Arthur receives a phone call.

It's from Sweezus.

Hey bro! says Sweezus. 

Hey! says Arthur. Where are you?

Yeah...well, says Sweezus. I'm in Nice. It's batshit crazy.

Nice? says Arthur. Nice in France?

Yeah Nice in France, says Sweezus. And I wish I wasn't.

How come? asks Arthur.

What day is it? asks Sweezus.

Could be any day, says Arthur. I'm on KI, checking out the burnt regions.

Cool, says Sweezus. Mind if I call you sporadically?

Sure, says Arthur. What about?

Everything, says Sweezus. Like it's raining, and the roads are like ice rinks, and everyone's riding like maniacs, and..... AARRRGH! 

The calls ends.

What was that about? asks Louisa.

He probably crashed, says Arthur.

Who? asks Louisa. 

Sweezus, says Arthur. He's riding in the Tour de France.

I thought you two always went together, says Louisa.

So did I, says Arthur, stopping 

He gets off his bike.

Louisa stops too. What's Arthur doing?

Nothing. Just having a moment.

If he was already in the burnt regions, and near a tree that was sprouting new foliage, at ground level, as they do, Arthur would kick it.

Team Bubble

 Saint Roley lands beside Gaius.

Did you find Terence? asks Gaius. 

Yes, at the playground, says Saint  Roley. He gave me some news.

What's that? asks Gaius, thinking it will be about orange peel or turnips.

The Tour de France, says Saint Roley. It's starting!

Dear me, when? asks Gaius. 

Now, says Saint Roley. 

I'll call Vello, says Gaius. I'll see what he wants me to do. Perhaps you could alert Arthur.

Saint Roley flies off to find Arthur.

Gaius calls Vello.

Vello! Hello!

Hello Gaius, says Vello. You do realise what time it is?

Yes, of course I do, says Gaius. Afternoon. I'm just calling to see if you knew the Tour de France was on.

Naturally, says Vello. That's why I'm in Nice, trying to get a good night's sleep, before the big day tomorrow..

But how did you get there with all the travel restrictions and so on? asks Gaius.

Exemption, says Vello. Due to being a French icon. And I wangled one for David because he's also beloved by the French. 

You don't say, says  Gaius. So, Team Philosophe has just two team members. It hardly seems worth it

Ahem, coughs Vello. I've got Sweezus as well. 

Hum, says Gaius. He's neither French nor a philosopher. You could have asked me. I have my own iconic status. Well good luck. Enjoy yourselves. I'll try and keep up with what happens, but I should warn you I'm busy.

It's not all joy here, says Vello. We have to wear masks, there's no food room, endless forms to fill in and they keep sticking things up our noses. Be glad you're not here. It's no picnic being in a Team Bubble with Sweezus. 

Bon chance, says Gaius, ending the call abruptly.

Meanwhile Saint Roley has caught up with Arthur and told him the news.

The Tour de France is starting.

But Arthur appears not to care.

In The Red Zone

 There's nothing wrong with a Toyota Hi-Lux per se.

It's the person inside you don't know.

Want a lift? asks the person.

I'm going to the playground, says Terence.

Hop in then, says the person.

Terence complies.

The person turns out to be on his way to the playground.

His name is Perrot.

Perrot turns up the music.

Dah-dah da dad-dad-dad-dah! The music stops. Time for the news.

The news, says Perrot. May as well listen.

Nice has been declared a covid 19 red zone, says the announcer. There will be blackout panels at the Tour de France starts and finishes, and crowds will be limited on the climbs.

Hear that? asks Perrot.

Yes, says Terence. I usually go. 

No kidding, says Perrot. You look young for a traveller.

I am, says Terence. The clowns always try to kidnap me.

They won't this year, says Perrot.

They arrive at the playground. Terence and Perrot get out. 

What a good playground. A dual platform unit with open sides, a tube slide, and a dolphin-shaped springer.

There are my kids, says Perrot. 

Saint Roley plops down beside Terence.

Terence! I was alarmed when you got into that Toyota Hi Lux.

I needed a lift, says Terence.

You might have got more than you bargained for, says Saint Roley.

I did, says Terence. The NEWS. And guess what?

What? asks Saint Roley.

Blackout panels to stop clowns! says Terence.

What? Where? asks Saint Roley, 

In the red zone, says Terence. On the NEWS. 

Saint Roley is none the wiser. Red zone. Blackout panels. Clowns. He needs to know more.

He flies across to Perrot who is springing his daughter on the dolphin springer.

Boing-creak-boing!

You're too big for this, Claudine!

Excuse me, says Saint Roley, but I heard there was news about a red zone and blackout panels? 

It's in Nice, says Perrot. Not here. No need to worry. Tour de France stuff. It's starting tomorrow. Hey!

Saint Roley has flown off in a hurry.

The Tour de France starts tomorrow! And Gaius and Arthur are here!

Uh-Oh!

 Louisa is not unreliable.

She can't leave without telling Gaius, who is poking about in the distance.

And this is no good! Terence is heading off in a westerly direction.

But Arthur is already on his bike.

Wait, Arthur! calls Louisa.

Okay, says Arthur.

That was easy. Louisa runs over to Gaius.

Arthur and I are going to ride on ahead. Catch up with us when you're ready.

Excellent, says Gaius. Porntip and I have discovered a crop of redlichia.

Great! says Louisa. I remember the last time you were here, you were looking for redlichia.

Indeed, says Gaius. I was investigating a possible relation to the ediacaran biota.

So, you keep on doing that, says Louisa. We'll push on to the burnt regions. 

Remember to look out for Glossy Black Cockatoos when you get there, says Gaius. Note their numbers.

Sure, says Louisa. By the way, Terence is staying with you. He wants to.

Where is Terence? asks Gaius, looking around.

Heading down to the western end of the Bay, says Louisa. Towards the playground. I thought I'd better tell you, before he disappears out of sight.

Of course, says Gaius. Thank you. Hum. Someone ought to go with him.

Send Roley, says Porntip. He's not busy.

Who? says Gaius. Oh, Saint Roley. Where is he?

No need to ask. The back end of Saint Roley can be seen heading westward already.

Terence is slowing. The beach is four kilometres long.

He decides to flag down the next car.

A car is approaching, behind him. Terence waves his longest piece of orange peel.

The car stops.

Uh-oh! It's a Toyota Hi-Lux!

What A Face

 Kierkegaard has not yet got out of the car.

Come and sit on the sand, says Angelina. Or should we explore the sand dunes?

The sand dunes, says Kierkegaard. 

First let's say hello to Arthur, says Angelina. He's down there at the rocky end.

Kierkegaard can see him, sitting next to Louisa. 

And there's Gaius, poking about in the shale. 

And Terence, nearby, rock hopping.

All right, says Kierkegaard. A quick hello, then the sand dunes.

Sure, says Angelina.

Hello Arthur, says Angelina. Enjoying Emu Bay?

We both are, says Louisa. And so's Gaius. 

How's his indigestion? asks Angelina.

Fine, says Louisa.

Terence runs up.

Where are my peelings?

Louisa had put the orange peel into the orange bag, with the rest of the oranges.

She pulls some peel out.

Yay! says Terence. Are these ones with feelings?

I told you they wouldn't have feelings, says Louisa.

You said peelings with feelings, says Terence. 

I said NOT peelings with feelings, says Louisa.

But that was a poem, says Terence.

A poem? says Angelina. One of Arthur's?

No, says Arthur. My poems don't rhyme.

You look as though you're thinking one up right now, says Angelina.

So he does, says Kierkegaard. What a face. Hello Arthur. Why are you here and not in the burnt regions?

We stopped off here, says Arthur. 

We may be here longer than we planned, says Louisa. Look at Gaius. He's completely engrossed.

I'm leaving, says Arthur. As soon as Louisa wipes that orange thing off her nose.

Shizz! says Louisa. Is that still there?

You're leaving Gaius and Terence behind? says Angelina. 

YES! says Terence. I'm staying! There's a playground at the end of the beach!

Am I leaving too? asks Louisa.

If you want, says Arthur. They'll catch up later.

Cool! says Louisa.

Arthur stands up.

Should we tell Gaius? asks Louisa.

Terence will, says Arthur. 

He starts walking towards his bicycle.

Louisa follows.

What an unreliable young man Arthur turned out to be, says Angelina. Come, Soren, let's explore the sand hills.

Wait for me, says Terence. I have to pick up my peelings.

Peelings With Feelings

 Walk with me, Terence, says Saint Roley.

Okay, says Terence. Where are we going?

It doesn't matter where we're going, says Saint Roley. I want a heart to heart talk.

Then let's walk back to Louisa, says Terence.

Why her? asks Saint Roley.

She's got peelings with feelings, says Terence.

I'd like to see them, says Saint Roley, but let's not get there too fast.

Talk, heart, says Terence. My heart is listening.

Saint Roley is moved. Terence has said something encouraging.

So Saint Roley unburdens his heart.

Now that I know why you named me, my life makes more sense, says Saint Roley. And my mistakes too.

Boom boom, says Terence.

What's that? asks Saint Roley.

My heart, says Terence. Two booms for yes.

So that was a yes, says Saint Roley.

Boom, says Terence.

Was that a no? asks Saint Roley.

Boom, says Terence.

Saint Roley forges on. The loss of my brother changed everything. I questioned the Pointing Finger. 

Boom boom, says Terence.

I lost faith, says Saint Roley. Then I realised I had gained something too.

All his stuff, says Terence. 

He didn't have any stuff, says Saint Roley. Only the cardboard, which never re-surfaced.

Boom, says Terence.

I had gained a degree of empathy with others who had lost loved ones.

Me, says Terence. All my parrots. And my pieces of turnip.

Boom, says Saint Roley. If boom means no.

It doesn't, says Terence. Get on with your story.

In time I became over-confident in my abilities, says Saint Roley. I asked too many questions. I thought I had the answers.

Like Baldy's geography homework, says Terence.

BOOM! says Saint Roley. Try to be silent.

Terence attempts to stop booming. 

That is why I went off on my own, several times, to examine my conscience, says Saint Roley.

Terence holds his breath.

And came to the conclusion that I would be better off as simply Roley, says Saint Roley. No more saintly baggage. What do you think?

Pffaaah! explodes Terence. 

What does that mean? asks Saint Roley.

I nearly died then, says Terence. Game over. Let's go.

Banana Wavelength

 Let me get this straight, says Saint Roley.

Terence waits to see what he wants to get straight. A feather?

You called me Roley so I could be a role model, continues Saint Roley.

Terence waits. Not a feather?

I get that, says Saint Roley. But you called me SAINT Roley.

Terence is getting impatient. Perhaps it's his feet?

Your'e not saying anything, says Saint Roley. Let me try another angle.

Terence is interested again. What other angle?

Who is Baldy? asks Saint Roley.

That's the same angle, says Terence. Try bending one knee.

Are we on the same wavelength? asks Saint Roley.

You're definitely not, says Porntip, looking up from an interesting fossil. Want me to act as intermediary?

Why not? Isn't that what you came for? says Saint Roley.

No need to get shirty, says Porntip. When I arrived, Terence wasn't here.

I'm here, says Terence. But Saint Roley's gone bananas.

Who is Baldy? asks Saint Roley, again.

My stupid cousin, says Terence. He does geography homework. His Virgin says he has to.

Aha! says Porntip. Another holy infant.

Snap! says Terence. I met lots of cousins in France. Fatty and Baldy and ...

Okay, says Saint Roley. That's cleared that up. And I haven't gone bananas.

That's a SAYING, says Terence. It doesn't mean real bananas. I said it because you didn't get straight and you didn't bend over, and you didn't ask me a question.

I DID! snaps Saint Roley.

This is really good, Roley, says Porntip. You're becoming less saint-like.

Don't call him Roley, says Terence. 

Look at this! calls Gaius. A hyolithid! See the conical shell?

Porntip dashes over.

It certainly looks like one of the lophophorates. How exciting.

Don't you remember Baldy? asks Terence.

No, says Saint Roley. I was a newly hatched chicken. And I had breathing problems.

That was my fault, says Terence. I nearly ruined you. 

Were you really going to call me Chicken? asks Saint Roley.

Yes, says Terence. Because you were a fluffy little chicken.

I dodged a bullet there, thinks Saint Roley.

The Heart Of Who He Is

That's gross Arthur, says Louisa.

Why? says Arthur.

It was sweet when it stuck to your lip by accident, says Louisa. But now it's different.

Because now I'm aware of it, says Arthur. 

You should have swallowed it, says Louisa. Or thrown it away.

But now, says Arthur, your poem has the potential for a new level. Disgust born of sweetness.  

I hadn't thought of it that way, says Louisa.

Now you can't avoid it, says Arthur.

He picks off the orange juice vesicle, and flicks it at Louisa.

It lands on her nose.

She allows it to stay there.

A car approaches, along the white sand.

It stops. Out gets Angelina. She opens a door and lets Terence out.

Terence runs over the sand to the pinkish brown shale.

Guess what? They died! says Terence.

What bad luck, says Louisa.

Have you got any peelings? asks Terence.

Orange peelings, says Louisa. A few.

Can I have them? asks Terence.

What for? asks Louisa.

Replacements, says Terence. Kierky said there will be other peelings.

Not peelings with feelings, says Louisa.

That's a good poem, says Terence. Not peelings with feelings. Where are they?

Wait, says Louisa. Saint Roley is here, with an important question.

What is it? asks Terence.

It goes to the heart of who he is, says Louisa.

Or who he thinks he is, says Arthur.

Yippee! cries Terence. I love that question.

He runs over to where Saint Roley is listening to Porntip and Gaius discussing a fossil.

I'm here! says Terence.

Gaius and Porntip don't even look up from the chancelloria. Is it sceleritome-bearing or not?

I have a question, says Saint Roley. Why did you give me my name?

It's the name of who you are, says Terence.

It may not be, says Saint Roley. Try to remember. I don't remember. I was a baby.

It was that stupid Baldy! says Terence. He had your brother. He said he was going to call your brother Saint Malo. So I said you could be called Saint Roley.

There is no Saint Roley, says Saint Roley.

Yes, there is, says Terence.

I remember, says Gaius, looking up at last. You wanted to call him Chicken. But someone in our party said he should have a better name than that, because he was to be a role model, which is when you came up with Saint Roley.

I knew that, says Terence (although he had really forgotten).

Saint Roley rolls his eyes.

He now has a great deal to think on.

Grossly Repellent

 Emu Bay is the best beach on the island, says Angelina. You'll love it.

I won't love it, says Terence.

Lovely white sand, says Angelina. And we can drive onto it.

Woop, says Terence.

He's sulking, says Kierkegaard. 

I know, says Angelina. Because of the turnips.

So would you, if they were your turnips, says Terence.

No doubt there will be other peelings, says Kierkegaard.

(He is unsympathetic, being not in a good mood himself).

Angelina speeds up. 

We'll be there in ten minutes, she says.

They are not the only ones heading to Emu Bay at the moment.

Saint Roley, tired of waiting for Porntip, is now on his way.

....

Arthur has finished his orange. 

Louisa is composing a poem in her head.

She hopes thereby to impress him.

It's about the orange he was eating and how the juice ran down his chin.

And how a tiny juice vesicle stuck to his bottom lip.

And how it's still there, like a small orange whisker....

Saint Roley drops down beside them.

Hello, says Saint Roley. I got tired of waiting. Where's Porntip?

Over there with Gaius, says Louisa. They've discovered a common interest.

Then where is Terence? asks Saint Roley. I may as well ask him directly.

Not here yet, says Arthur.  

You've got something on your lower lip, says Saint Roley.

Arthur sticks out his tongue and rolls it across his lower lip.

Gone! says Saint Roley. Was it part of an orange?

Yes, says Arthur.

It was part of a poem, says Louisa.

Was it? says Arthur. Shall I put it back?

You've probably swallowed it, says Louisa.

Not yet, says Arthur.

My problem is this, says Saint Roley. Should I ditch my title?

Yes, says Arthur. You didn't earn it.

Saint Roley is ruffled. It had not occurred to him that he didn't earn it.

You were named after a saint, says Arthur. And not even a real one.

What do you mean? asks Louisa.

Terence named him, says Arthur. It's complicated.

I'd better wait for Terence, says Saint Roley. This needs clearing up.

Yes, says Louisa. Don't ditch your title for nothing. It might not even matter.

It's all right for them, thinks Saint Roley. But this goes to the heart of who I am.

He flutters over to see what Gaius and Porntip are looking at so closely.

Arthur takes the tiny juice vesicle out of his mouth.

Sticks it back on his lower lip, where it came from.

Louisa finds this grossly repellent.

Orange Tactics

 Is Saint Roley coming? asks Louisa.

That's the question, says Porntip.

What's the answer? asks Louisa.

He asked me to see how the land lies, says Porntip.

Like it always lies here, says Louisa. Rare fossil beds with soft tissue preservation.

I know that, says Porntip. But he wants to put something to you. Something personal.

He wants to drop his sainthood, says Arthur.

He does, says Porntip. How did you know?

It's been coming, says Arthur.

I didn't think you'd noticed, says Louisa.

Keeps asking questions, no one likes him, says Arthur. I'm just quoting Terence.

Is Terence the infant? asks Porntip. Where is he? 

Coming later, with friends, says Louisa. Why?

He's the one I'm to ask, says Porntip.

Good luck with that, says Louisa. Will you wait here or what?

I'll wait, says Porntip. Why don't we all look for fossils like that man.

She means Gaius. He is bending over some distance away, looking for fossils.

Not me, says Arthur. I'm thinking of leaving for the burnt regions.

You can't, says Louisa. Not yet. At least wait for Terence.

A brachiopod! shouts Gaius.

Really? says Porntip. Excuse me. I must go and see.

She picks her way over to Gaius.

Fascinating, says Gaius. I don't feel I should remove this. I'll just make a sketch, if I can lay my hands on a pencil...

What's that if it isn't a pencil? says Porntip.

What's what? asks Gaius.

That, says Porntip, pointing with her beak at a pencil protruding from Gaius's pocket.

A defunct pencil, says Gaius.

It looks fine to me, says Porntip. 

She draws it out. It's a good pencil. The one lent to him by Louisa.

Wonderful, says Gaius. He takes out his notebook, and starts sketching.

Porntip brings him more fossils. including some sceleritome-bearing chancelleria.

Meanwhile Louisa is trying to persuade Arthur not to leave early. 

She offers him an orange.

He takes it.

No Time For Mopers

 Was that Saint Roley? asks Louisa.

Gaius looks up.

Possibly. But I don't think so.

Gaius is right. 

It is an oystercatcher who isn't Saint Roley. 

But it's heading towards Emu Bay.

The oystercatcher who isn't Saint Roley glances down momentarily.

She thinks: That is probably them. Should I stop and introduce myself?  No I shouldn't. I'll do what I promised Saint Roley. I mean Roley. Or do I? I can't stop thinking of him as Saint Roley. O well, onward and upward. 

It's not far to Emu Bay. 

She lands on the beach and spends some time looking for molluscs. 

But soon finds a fossil.

She picks up the fossil. A trilobite with antennae? This is a find!

She might keep it. Or show it to Saint Roley's friends.

It will make a fine introduction.

Here they come now, on their bicycles. The older man is sucking on an orange. The two younger ones are not far behind. Shouldn't there be an infant?

Perhaps they have lost it.

The three cyclists stop, and get off their bicycles.

She approaches.

Hello. I'm a friend of Saint Roley. I mean Roley. He asked me to come.

Why? asks Louisa.

Long story, says the oystercatcher who isn't Saint Roley.

Tell it, says Louisa. We've got time. 

I met him on the shore at Kingscote, says she. He was moping. I have no time for mopers. I told him so. He replied that he was burdened by his name and had only just realised. I said what is your name? He said Saint Roley. I said no wonder. He liked that. Then I told him my name.

What is it? asks Louisa.

Porntip, says the oystercatcher who isn't Saint Roley.

That's a nice name, says Louisa.

Thank you, says Porntip.

What's that you have there? asks Gaius.

O this, says Porntip. I forgot I had it. Look! A trilobite fossil, and here...traces of antennae!

Fascinating, says Gaius. Our visit is worthwhile already!

Up Up Follow Behind

 She was called Bunny then, says Arthur.

Was she your girlfriend? asks Louisa.

Yes and no, says Arthur. We travelled together. She asked me.

And you said yes, says Louisa.

I said no, says Arthur. I only travel with poets.

And she wasn't a poet? asks Louisa.

She thought she was, says Arthur. And she wanted to get away from her dad.

How old was she? asks Louisa.

I don't know, says Arthur. 

Who was her dad? asks Louisa.

Pastor Moon, says Arthur. He hated me until he found out I was best friends with Sweezus.

Wow! says Louisa. That was lucky.

Gaius arrives.

Have you completed the shopping?

Yes, says Louisa. We bought oranges, chocolate and water. Where's Terence?

I left him behind with Kierkegaard and Angelina, says Gaius. He was distraught. His turnip pieces failed to revive in the time allotted. Oranges eh? That's a nice change from apples.

We thought so, says Louisa. So what's happening with Terence?

We're meeting at Emu Bay, later on, says Gaius. 

Let's get going, says Arthur. You take the oranges.

Certainly, says Gaius, loading them into his back pack.

They head off in the direction of Emu Bay.

Angelina seemed quite taken with Arthur, says Gaius. 

Merde! thinks Arthur.

What makes you think that? asks Louisa.

I have a sixth sense for these things, says Gaius. 

A bird flies overhead,

It could be Saint Roley.

Perhaps he's found the map on Louisa's verandah, and figured out where they're going.

Let's see. 

Up up! Follow that oystercatcher!

No, from the back, it doesn't look like Saint Roley.

Nor from the side.

Or the front, were that possible.

But you don't place yourself in the path of an on-flying bird.

He Does And He Doesn't

 What are you thinking? asks Angelina.

If life could be lived backwards, says Kierkegaard.

If? says Angelina. What then?

There would be more certainty, says Kierkegaard.

Silly, says Angelina. You'd know how things ended but not how they began.

That could be intuited, says Kierkegaard.

So can the future, says Angelina.

I don't think so, says Kierkegaard. We weren't going to Emu Bay. Now we are. 

With me, says Terence. You didn't know that either. Or my turnip pieces.

How are they doing? asks Angelina.

She looks into the tea bowl. The turnip pieces do not look back.

Their little turnip eyes are closed, or so wrinkled it makes little difference. Their turnip mouths are nothing but tiny holes from which no bubbles emerge.

Waley-waley, says Terence.

That's a sad song, says Angelina.

It's a parrot song, says Terence.

........

Gaius is cycling to the IGA where he has arranged to meet Louisa and Arthur.

As he cycles he thinks about recent kindnesses that have been shown him.

Lettuces, brought quickly.

Peppermint tea.

And now at Louisa's suggestion, a return to the Emu Bay shale.

There is a rock in the road. He avoids it.

The gods are smiling. 

If he believed in the gods, which he does and he doesn't.

.......

Louisa and Arthur wait outside the IGA, with their shopping. Oranges and chocolate, and bottled water.

We'll recycle our bottles, says Louisa.

We used to make packets out of recycled plastic, says Arthur. Plastic that washed in from the sea.

Packets for what? asks Louisa.

Sea salt, says Arthur. We had a small business.

Who's we? asks Louisa. Was it Unni?

No, says Arthur. It was Sweezus. How come you know about Unni?

Gaius told me, says Louisa. He said she went with you to Kas.

She did, says Arthur. She was with me when we found the Twitcher. 

In the Death Box, says Louisa. 

In the Death Box, says Arthur.

But not dead, says Louisa.

No, says Arthur. The last one alive. A survivor.

How romantic, says Louisa. 

A terrible scent, and dark swirling water; luminescent flashes subsiding; final drops fall to the sea;

just one flaccid cuttlefish remains in the stolen death box, says Arthur. 

Flaccid, says Louisa. I like that. Now tell me more about Unni.

Worst Case

 I must be going, says Gaius. Many thanks for the peppermint tea.

You're welcome, says Angelina. Do you feel any better?

To be honest, says Gaius, I felt better before I arrived. The lettuce worked wonders.

Well, the peppermint tea wasn't wasted, says Angelina. It was nice to catch up.

AND, says Terence.

And what? asks Gaius. The pieces of turnip? No doubt, dead as ever.

Not yet, says Terence.

Interesting, the way he puts things, says Angelina.

I put them in peppermint tea, says Terence. And they haven't survived yet.

Revived yet, says Gaius. 

I know, says Terence. They haven't.

Nevertheless we must go, says Gaius. Get them out of the bowl and put them back in the blueberry container.

No, says Terence. Something's starting.

It doesn't look like something's starting.

But who wants to say so?

Angelina looks at Kierkegaard. 

What if Terence were to remain with us a bit longer? says Angelina.

For what reason? asks Kierkegaard.

And we take him to Emu Bay later this afternoon, when he's finished his experiment, says Angelina.

Kierkegaard feels there is a hidden agenda. What is it? Is she just being a teacher, thinking of the experiment? Is she tiring of him already? Worst case: has she fallen for Arthur? Disaster! Calm down Sören, and breathe.

He breathes. 

No one notices the difference.

Very kind of you, says Gaius. All right Terence?

YES! says Terence.

So it is decided. 

Gaius leaves.

Terence stays. 

The turnip pieces have a few more hours to revive in, or prove themselves defunct for ever.

And Kierkegaard must decide how to comport himself in this new scenario.

Nobody Liked Him

 It's not far to Kingscote, from there.

'There' being the point on the road where Gaius received his invitation.

Seaview Motel, says Gaius. That sounds nice.

What if Arthur and I do the shopping, while you meet up with Kierkegaard and Angelina? says Louisa.

Very well, says Gaius. I won't stay long, I'll just have a peppermint tea. If nothing else, it will be reviving.

Can I come? asks Terence.

No, says Gaius. Oh, all right, if you want to.

I want to, says Terence.

So Gaius lifts Terence into his back pack, and heads off to the Seaview Motel.

Hello! says Kierkegaard. Good to see you.

I didn't intend to interrupt you in your love nest, says Gaius. But Angelina...

I know, says Kierkegaard. She's a fine woman. Come in. The kettle's on.

Terence came too, says Gaius, but Arthur and Louisa are shopping.

Oh, says Angelina. I was hoping to see Arthur again.

You echo my own thoughts on many occasions, says Gaius.

Oh, is he somewhat elusive? asks Angelina.

You could say that, says Gaius. But on the other hand, he is most reliable.

And a poet, says Angelina. I do love a poet.

Kierkegaard looks glum.

I hope you've brought the peppermint tea, says Angelina. I have hot water, but I gave Arthur the packet.

It's in here, says Gaius, rummaging about in his back pack. Along with young Terence.

Terence clambers out with three dead pieces of turnip, stuck on three of his fingers.

What are those, dear? says Angelina.

Dead, says Terence. But not forever.

He has the wrong end of the stick, says Gaius. I told him mint has the ability to revive people when they've fainted. 

Soon the motel room is redolent with the scent of peppermint tea.

So, says Gaius, leaning back, sipping his tea (how pleasant). What have you two been up to?

To tell the truth we haven't been out much, says Angelina.

Kierkegaard looks embarrassed.

We're going to Emu Bay, says Terence. We're meeting Saint Roley there. He didn't come with us because he kept asking questions and nobody liked him.

Kierkegaard looks wry.

Can I have some tea in a bowl for these turnips? asks Terence.

Remember The Death Box

 Here. Three types of lettuces, says Arthur. 

Wonderful, says Gaius. Hand them over.

Arthur hands them over, which is easy, because they have stopped.

A fine choice of colours, says Gaius.

He tears off a leaf of radiccio, and chews it.

Guess what? says Terence. 

What? says Arthur.

All the turnips pieces have died, says Terence. I only had three left and now I've got nothing.

Not nothing, says Arthur. Unless you threw them away.

Three dead ones, says Terence. And a pencil that thinks it's my fault.

I'm sure it doesn't, says Louisa. Did you explain to it about the mortality of sentient beings?

Yes, says Terence. It's like fighting. 

This is working! says Gaius. I may not need the other lettuces.

We can have them in a sandwich, says Louisa.

Then they'll die, says Terence.

Shall we progress? asks Gaius. How was the shopping in Kingscote?

Good, says Arthur. I bumped into Kierkegaard and Angelina.

Did you exchange words? asks Gaius.

Yes, says Arthur. Words about lettuces. 

Did they exhibit alarm? says Gaius.

No, says Arthur. Angelina knew all about indigestion. She gave me this peppermint tea. She said you should try it.

How kind, says Gaius. I shall certainly try it.

Come on, says Louisa.

Wait, says Gaius. I have Angelina's number on my phone. I'll send her a message.

(A bad move! Has he forgotten they're supposed to be avoiding the holidaying couple?)

You go on ahead, says Gaius. I'll just send this message, and then I'll catch up.

Arthur and Louisa head off down the road, leaving Gaius composing his message.

Angelina, many thanks for the peppermint tea. I shall try it next time I have access to hot water.

Send.

He feels a slight gassy tremor arising. Where's that radiccio?

Meanwhile, up the road, Louisa is asking Arthur about the Twitcher.

Louisa: Who was the Twitcher?

Arthur: The Twitcher? 

Louisa: The Twitcher. Why did you and Gaius take him to Kas?

Arthur: He wanted to meet his beloved.

Louisa: So, he was a person?

Arthur: He was a cuttlefish. A big one. 

Louisa: Where had he come from?

Terence: A Death Box.

Arthur: We found him in a Death Box, but the Death Box was in Wallaroo.

Louisa: So how come his beloved was in Turkey?

Arthur: He imagined she was. He saw a brochure or something. And wanted to meet her. In his head she was a red and orange bejewelled maiden, longing for him.

Louisa: So she was a cuttlefish?

Arthur: Yes.

Louisa has more questions, but now Gaius catches up.

I should have let sleeping dogs lie, says Gaius. Now Angelina has offered to make me a peppermint tea when we arrive in Kingscote. 

That's nice, says Louisa.

Maybe.

Romance And The Twitcher

 I was joking, says Angelina. 

I thought so, says Kierkegaard. 

It wouldn't have worked anyway, says Angelina. 

True, says Kierkegaard. We didn't know Arthur wouldn't have to pay for his shopping.

So why would we have given Arthur our most expensive items? says Angelina.

No reason, says Kierkegaard.

We'd almost certainly have lost them, says Angelina. He'd be under no obligation to give them back.

They are now at the checkout.

Kangaroo Island coffee beans, Kangaroo Island oysters, Kangaroo Island honey, Kangaroo Island free range eggs, olives, fig jam, sea salt.

The checkout lady looks at Kierkegaard. Does she know him?

No she doesn't.

The total is high.

......

Arthur cycles back down the road with the lettuces and peppermint tea in his back pack.

Birds fly overhead, dropping red and black feathers.

.....

Gaius and Louisa are heading towards him.

They are conversing.

Louisa: Why lettuces?

Gaius: They disperse flatulence, suppress belches and aid the digestion. One must be careful however.

Louisa: What of?

Gaius: The amount is critical. Too much loosens the bowels, a moderate amount causes constipation. 

Louisa: Which do you want to happen?

Gaius: Neither. I shall nibble the leaves as and when I feel a belch coming.

Louisa: You haven't belched for ages.

Gaius: Indeed! That is so! Perhaps I don't need the lettuces.

Louisa: Don't tell Arthur.

Gaius: Arthur will not be annoyed. I had the feeling he wanted to go on ahead of us.

Louisa: So did I. Do you think he likes me?

Gaius: Likes you? Why wouldn't he?

Louisa: I don't know.

Gaius: Arthur usually.... but no, I remember he was great friends with Unni.

Louisa: Who's Unni?

Gaius. Bunny Moon. She changed her name to Unni.

Louisa: Unni Moon? Why?

Gaius: I don't recall. Perhaps it was so she could ride in the men's race. Yes that's what it was. She got away with it too.

Louisa: Where is she now?

Gaius: No idea. She and Arthur helped me return the Twitcher to the Turkish seaport of Kas. I wrote a report on it....

Thus the time whiles away in talk of romance and belches, until...

Arthur appears, speeding towards them. 

No Need To Pretend To Be French

 Kingscote.

Arthur is in the supermarket, looking at lettuces.

Someone comes up behind him.

Arthur! Hello!

It's Kierkegaard with Angelina. They are shopping as well.

This is Angelina, says Kierkegaard. We're holidaying together.

Nice one, says Arthur. 

You must be Arthur, says Angelina. Are you here with Gaius?

Yes, says Arthur. But he's still on the road. I've come on ahead to buy lettuces.

That seems an odd mission, says Angelina.

For indigestion, says Arthur.

Poor you, says Angelina. Try drinking peppermint tea.

Not me, him, says Arthur. He specified lettuces. They have special properties.

Really? says Angelina. She picks up a lettuce. What are they?

I wouldn't know, says Arthur. I imagine they aid the digestion. 

He picks up a cos, a butter lettuce, and a radiccio.

Angelina darts away and comes back with a packet of peppermint tea.

Tell him to try this too, says Angelina.

Thanks, says Arthur, stuffing everything into his back pack.

At the checkout, he hums Under the Sea.

Jacques Cousteau! says the checkout lady. How well you're looking! No charge for you. Have a nice day!

Merci beaucoup! says Arthur, who doesn't need to pretend to be French.

He is French, although he is not Jacques Cousteau.

Perhaps the checkout lady knows this, but remembers Arthur from four years ago, the first time he visited Kangaroo Island and was not Jacques Cousteau.

I don't think he had to pay, says Angelina, who has been watching. 

He leads a charmed life, says Kierkegaard. 

We should have given him some of our more expensive items, says Angelina.

Kierkegaard hopes she is joking. 

That would have been morally wrong.

Lettuces, See You Shortly

 Road, dirt, grass, view of the coastline.

Occasional trees.

The not very sparkling sea.

Grey boulders. 

Sand.

Seaweed.

Or maybe it isn't.

Are we there yet? asks Terence.

Not yet, says Louisa. But look at the beautiful scenery.

Where? asks Terence.

Gaius draws level. 

Remind me to buy something for indigestion in Kingscote, says Gaius.

Do you have indigestion? asks Louisa.

A touch, says Gaius. Ever since the roast vegetables last night. And yet, there were no tomatoes in the assortment.

No, no tomatoes, says Louisa. I knew you wouldn't eat them.

Did you read the label on the olive oil? asks Arthur, who is behind them, but has excellent hearing.

No, says Gaius. Should I have?

I read it, says Arthur. From memory, it said: fresh grassy aroma, herbaceous with a zest of tomato leaf. 

WHAT? says Gaius. A zest of tomato leaf! No wonder I feel dyspeptic.

It wouldn't be actual tomato leaf, says Louisa. How could it?

Nevertheless, says Gaius, the mystery is solved. Olive oil, with a tomato leaf zest! Who would have suspected?

Me, says Ronnie. I was drizzled with it, remember.

And what did you think? asks Gaius. 

To be honest, says Ronnie, I had other things on my mind. But now you mention it, yes, there was a grassy aroma.

Burp! says Gaius. (He doesn't say it, but rather emits it).

Want me to go on ahead, and bring you back something? asks Arthur.

We're going pretty fast as it is, says Louisa.

Not as fast as I could go, says Arthur.

Thank you Arthur, says Gaius. I appreciate it. Buy lettuces. They have special properties.

Okay, says Arthur. Lettuces. See you shortly.

Soon he is out of sight.

Cycling so fast he doesn't notice the beautiful scenery.

Once I Was Your Haven

I think we can agree we've had enough of those pieces of turnip.

But they're hard to get rid of.

They've been shaved, rescued, semi-roasted, left behind, forgotten, remembered, drizzled with honey, shrivelled, been kicked out of their container and now some of them are stuck to a feather. Others are not.

I'll just stop for a minute, says Louisa. She stops at the side of the road.

Gaius and Arthur stop too.

Sorry, says Terence.

Never mind, says Louisa. I'm going to throw out these pieces of turnip.

NO! cries Terence.

They've made my rocks all sticky, says Louisa. And my seeds.You can just keep the ones that are stuck to the feather. Deal with it, Terence. Shit happens.

She picks out seven shrivelled, unattached, (except for a few seeds, which she rescues) pieces of turnip, and flicks them onto the grass verge. 

Goodbye turnip pieces, says Terence.

They're pretty well dead, says Louisa. If they're not, they soon will be.

Now I've only got three, says Terence.

Good. That's workable.

They get back on their bikes and continue.

Terence looks back. 

A bird has alighted to examine the discarded pieces.

What is it? A parrot? Terence thinks so.

He hopes it isn't a honey and turnip eating parrot.

It's already too far back to see.

Did you come with us to Emu Bay last time, Arthur? asks Gaius.

No, I went surfing at Stokes Bay with Sweezus, says Arthur. Remember?

Well, you're in for a treat, says Gaius. The Emu Bay Shale is an important geological formation. More than fifty different species of trilobites have been found there. Including redlichia, of course, and a rich assemblage of estaingia. Also...

Will we be there long? asks Arthur.

That depends, says Louisa. Come on. Let's go faster.

They go faster.

Terence, in the basket, twiddles the feather.

Stop doing that, says the smallest piece of turnip. This feather is our haven. Woe betide us if we should drop off.

Woe, says the middle sized piece of turnip.

Betide us, says the largest piece of turnip. 

Remember me? says Ronnie. Once I was your haven.

It seems they no longer remember.

Too many things have gone on.

The Lucky Ones

 Terence likes it, in Louisa's basket.

He examines the rocks.

Under the rocks there are seeds of various descriptions.

And something he hadn't noticed before. A feather.

The road is bumpy. He is jigged up and down.

So are the turnip pieces, in their blueberry container.

They all feel funny.

No need to ask why. 

Terence shows Ronnie the feather.

A black and red feather, says Ronnie. That belongs to a parrot.

You don't have to tell me, says Terence. I know all about parrots.

What sort of parrot is this feather from? asks Ronnie.

A black and red one, says Terence.

That's a terrible answer, says Ronnie. Ask Louisa.

Terence raises the feather.

You found it! says Louisa. Isn't it nice! That's off a glossy black cocky.

Let me see it, says Gaius, riding up alongside Louisa. Yes, we must keep our eyes peeled for the species.

Look out for sheoaks, says Louisa. The nuts of sheoaks are their only food source.

Arthur! calls Gaius, Keep an eye out for sheoaks.

Arthur is lagging behind.

Sheoaks. He is not keeping an eye out for sheoaks. Or anything else. He just wants to get to Kingscote, do the shopping and head out to the devastated regions.

What a pity we don't have Saint Roley with us, says Gaius.

We left him a map, says Louisa.

Can he read maps? asks Gaius. Does a bird need to?

Good question, says Louisa. But they do need to know where we are if they want to catch up.

What did you show as our destination? asks Gaius.

Emu Bay, says Louisa. I thought you might like to stop off there.

I would indeed, says Gaius. I have my geology hammer.

I've got a few rocks in my basket, says Louisa. 

Gaius peers in. 

Terence moves out of the way. Louisa wobbles.

Ahh! I nearly went over! Terence get back to the centre!

Terence does. He is trying to be helpful.

Crunch. His cement foot kicks the lid of the blueberry container. 

It pops open. The shrivelled turnip pieces drop out.

The lucky ones stick to the feather.

Who Guessed Rocks

 Where's Louisa's bike! There it is. And there is the basket.

It's attached to the front, way too high for Terence to see what's in it.

And she's gone back inside.

Terence looks for something to stand on.

On the front verandah, the turnip pieces are anxious.

What if Terence doesn't come back?

He'll come back, says Ronnie. He's just checking out Louisa's basket.

I wonder what's in it? says the smallest piece of turnip.

Red satin lining, says one of the medium sized pieces.

Why would Terence love that? asks the biggest piece of turnip.

He loves red things, says the smallest piece of turnip.

Lining isn't what's actually in it, says Ronnie. It's just lining. There must be something else in it.

Something Louisa has that she thinks Terence would love, says the medium sized piece of turnip.

Rocks, says Ronnie. My guess is it's rocks.

Why would she have rocks in her basket? asks the smallest piece of turnip. It might be chocolates.

Terence doesn't eat chocolates, says Ronnie.

It might be a trick, says the big piece of turnip. A trick to get Terence to ride in it.

Now they are even more anxious.

What would trick Terence? And when would he realise? And would he ask Louisa to come back for his turnip pieces and Ronnie? And would Louisa do it?

But phew! Here comes Terence, running round the side of the house and skidding onto the verandah.

I NEARLY FORGOT YOU! shouts Terence.

We knew you wouldn't, says Ronnie. What was in the basket?

Rocks and seeds, says Terence. 

I was right, says Ronnie.

Chocolates? asks the smallest piece of turnip. 

No, says Terence.

He picks up the blueberry container containing the pieces of turnip. 

He picks up smarty-pants Ronnie, who guessed rocks correctly.

He runs round the house to the back garden where Gaius, Arthur and Louisa are ready to roll.

Louisa lifts Terence into her basket, which is not lined with red satin.

But it does smell of lavender, which is nice.  

Best to Forget

 Louisa comes through the front door, onto the verandah.

What's this? asks Louisa.

A map, says Terence. Ronnie did it. I helped him.

Terence did it, says Ronnie. I helped HIM.

I can see that, says Louisa. What's it a map of, and why is it here?

It's.... begins Terence.

Don't tell her, says Ronnie. If she can't work it out it's useless.

Or she's useless, says Terence.

Watch it! says Louisa. I'm excellent at reading maps. Okay, a wriggly line, that's a road out to somewhere. And these must be waves, so that's the sea. And this dot here must be where we're going. It's Kingscote!

Close, says Terence. Emu Bay!

Then you need to draw a bit more coastline says Louisa. Like this. Come here Ronnie.

He can't. He's a pencil. She picks him up.

Cripes! says Louisa. You're oily AND sticky! Is that my honey?

It's come off my fingers, says Terence. I gave some to the turnips. They liked it.

That surprises me, says Louisa. But let's not go there. I'll draw a bay here, and ...I know.. A picture of an emu.

Why? asks Terence. Can't you write Emu Bay?

Who's the map for? asks Louisa.

Saint Roley, says Terence. He's gone, but he might come back and he won't know where we've gone to.

He will now, says Louisa. So, who's coming?

We all are, says Terence. I'm their person. 

That's cool, says Louisa. You're their person and I'm Arthur and Gaius's person.

Yes, says Terence. Let's team up.

Sure, says Louisa. Now, come round the back. The others are ready.

They go round the back, leaving the map for Saint Roley.

You can go in my basket, says Louisa. 

Is it girly? asks Terence. 

No way, says Louisa. You'll love what's inside.

Terence runs off, to see what's inside Louisa's basket,

Louisa remembers the turnip pieces, and Ronnie the pencil

He forgot them, thinks Louisa. And they're so sticky. I think I'll forget them as well.

 

First Time Being Anyone's Person

Terence goes round to the front of the house, with the spoonful of honey, which he has licked but not eaten.

It is now he discovers Saint Roley has gone.

Hey! says Terence. Where's Saint Roley?

Gone back to the shore, says Ronnie. He decided he's too controlling.

What does that mean? asks Terence.

It means he makes you think about things you don't want to think about, says Ronnie. Like what your name was, and what it wasn't. And whose name it was.

Yes, says the smallest piece of turnip. And sometimes he interrupts you to talk about creaking.

I know, says Terence. We all heard it. Arthur made pancakes for breakfast and this is the honey. Who wants some?

I'll pass, says Ronnie. I'm still pretty oily.

Terence remembers the message he's supposed to pass on to Ronnie from Gaius.

Gaius said he won't need your services.

What services? asks Ronnie. Did he mean writing?

He didn't say, says Terence. Listen to this. Emu hey! Buzz blow and play. Who likes it?

We haven't tried it, says the smallest piece of turnip.

That WAS it, says Terence.

The honey, says the smallest piece of turnip.

We all want to try it, cry the other pieces of turnip.

Terence opens their lid, and drizzles Ligurian honey onto the turnip pieces.

Who likes it?

They all do. Just look at their faces.

We're going soon, says Terence. If Saint Roley comes back, tell him we're at Emu Bay.

No way! says Ronnie. We're coming with you!

We have to, say the pieces of turnip. You're our person.

Am I? asks Terence. It's the first time I've been anyone's person that wasn't a parrot. Okay!

Sweet. Who wouldn't want Terence to be their own person?

Right, says Terence. Ronnie can go in the blueberry container with the turnips and honey.

I'd rather not... begins Ronnie. 

First, get Ronnie to leave a message for Saint Roley, says the biggest piece of turnip.

Good thinking, says the smallest piece of turnip. Then he can follow us.

Go on then. Write, says Terence to Ronnie.

Help me here, says Ronnie. I can't write by myself. 

Neither can I, says Terence. I can do maps though.

Map it is, says Ronnie. 

Terence draws an oily map on the verandah, with Ronnie.

The map shows a wriggly road and a coast line.

Waves depicting where the sea is.

And a dot, which represents Emu Bay.

A Dangerous Ending

Gaius and Terence come in through the back door.

Arthur has made pancakes.

What's prompted Arthur to make pancakes?

We may never know.

Try this honey, says Louisa. It's made by Ligurian bees.

I heard most of their hives were destroyed in the fires, says Gaius.

A lot were, says Louisa, but this is pre-bushfire honey.

Let me see, says Terence. 

You can try it, says Louisa. She gives him some, on a spoon.

Shall we make an early start? asks Gaius.

Yes, says Louisa. If we leave in half an hour we should get to Kingscote by mid-morning.

Excellent, says Gaius. If I remember correctly, it's near Emu Bay.

It is, says Louisa. And I showed you the way. I was just a kid then. 

Did I come? asks Terence.

You did, says Louisa. You made us a poem. 

Right, says Terence. But I've forgotten it.

Emu hey! (says Louisa)

Buzz blow and play

the golden trumpet.

emu emu hey

who likes it?

Me, says Terence. It rhymes. Arthur do you like it?

Is 'Who likes it?' part of it, or a subsequent question? asks Arthur.

I always assumed it was part of it, says Louisa. Which is why it was memorable. I think all poems should end with 'Who likes it?'

Dangerous, says Arthur.

Yuck, says Terence. I don't like this honey. I'm going to give it to Saint Roley. He'll be hungry after his vigil.

How did the vigil go? asks Louisa.

We heard the house creaking, says Terence. The turnip pieces said Arthur was in love with you. Saint Roley said no he wasn't. He said YOU....

Take Saint Roley the honey, says Louisa, looking at Arthur, who is on his fifth pancake. Tell him we're leaving soon.

Indeed, says Gaius. And you might tell Ronnie I won't need his services.

I'll tell him my poem, says Terence. How did it go again?

Emu hey! says Louisa. 

Yes! Who likes it? says Terence.

Not A Real Boy

The stars fade.

The sky lightens.

It's morning, says Terence. 

He runs round the back to wake Gaius.

Saint Roley remains on the verandah with the turnip pieces and Ronnie the pencil.

Well, says Saint Roley, I think we can all agree we learned something. 

Yes, says Ronnie. I learned something.

So did we, says a medium-sized piece of turnip.

It speaks! says Saint Roley. Sorry, that was uncalled for. What did you learn?

The medium-sized piece of turnip coughs loudly, and says:

Our blueberry container is see-through. 

When we weep it mists over

We can't see the stars,

And we don't want to.

All we want is someone to understand what we've gone through.

We thought Holy Ronnie would finish his poem and rejoin us.

We would wrap ourselves around him as we did when we were a whole turnip

And he was not oily and he was called Ronnie

And Ronnie was not a real boy.

You shame me, says Saint Roley. What about you Ronnie?

Ronnie coughs and speaks:

Your poem, dear medium-sized piece of turnip,

Has made me joyful.

Finish it! finish it! chant the turnip pieces.

Therefore I entreat you (begins Ronnie)

To remember the turnip you were

And the pencil I was

When we bonded.

Is that it? ask the ten turnip pieces together.

It's enough, says Saint Roley. As to what I have learned, it's that I've become too controlling. I shall return to the shore alone, and think about making improvements. Goodbye my friends, and good luck on your travels.

He stalks off, leaving the turnip pieces and Ronnie the pencil in a panic.

What's Going Wrong?

How goes the vigil? asks Gaius.

It's finished, says Terence.

No it isn't, says Saint Roley. Nothing is resolved yet.

What does that mean? asks Terence. 

Closed off, says the smallest piece of turnip.

Do you want the lid down? asks Terence. 

No, says the smallest piece of turnip. Resolution does not require the lid down. It just needs attention.

We heard the house creak just now, says Saint Roley. 

So did I, says Gaius. That's why I woke up. I peered in through a window.

See anything? asks Saint Roley.

Nothing, says Gaius.

If I were to give a score out of ten for this vigil, says the smallest piece of turnip, I'd give it zero.

Or minus two, says Holy Ronnie.

Saint Roley is startled. Minus two. Zero? And it's not even over. What's going wrong?

I welcome your feedback, says Saint Roley.

You ask questions and don't listen to the answer, says the smallest piece of turnip. 

I do listen, says Saint Roley. 

Not to us, says the smallest piece of turnip. What was the last thing I said?

Not to us, says Saint Roley.

The last important thing, says the smallest piece of turnip. 

Zero, says Saint Roley. I'm still smarting.

Before that, says the smallest piece of turnip.

The other pieces of turnip are entranced. The smallest piece of turnip is spunky! She won't let this go!

Um, says Saint Roley. Help me here, someone.

Closure, says Gaius. A thoughtful interpretation of the purpose behind resolution...

Before that, says the smallest piece of turnip. 

What was it? asks Terence. 

Shut up, says Holy Ronnie. We're getting closer.

We are, says the smallest piece of turnip. Do you remember?

You wanted me to finish my poem, says Holy Ronnie. I entreat you....etcetera. And you were sad.

Yes, says the smallest piece of turnip.

Why should I lose points for that? asks Saint Roley.

You kept interrupting, says the smallest piece of turnip.

Yes, says Terence. You kept interrupting. I know! Everyone who interrupts has to .....

I think I'll turn in again, says Gaius. Good night.

Good night. Don't worry. It will shortly be morning.

Half A Number

2B's not a name! says Terence. It's a number.

It was my name, says Holy Ronnie. Only half of it is a number.

It's stupid, says Terence. I'm still calling you Ronnie.

If you want to remain at this vigil, says Saint Roley, show some respect for 2B. Ask him which name he prefers to be known by.

Thank you, says Holy Ronnie. I prefer Holy Ronnie.

As long as you're sure, says Saint Roley.

Why wouldn't I be? asks Holy Ronnie.

Who WAS Ronnie? asks Saint Roley. Don't you think it's important to know?

I know! says Terence. He was a kid who went to Mount Compass School, and he dropped you in the School Swamp.

I have no memory of that boy, says Holy Ronnie.

Then I suggest you continue your silent vigil, says Saint Roley. The memory may surface.

Holy Ronnie is silent.

So is Terence. So are the turnip pieces. 

Saint Roley opens their lid. The stars appear, above them.

You have been weeping, says Saint Roley. That's good. Who's going to tell me the reason?

Me, says Terence. They steamed up and couldn't see anything. Then the house creaked and they were scared.

That is not the reason, says the smallest piece of turnip. We were weeping for the lost parts of ourselves. And also for Holy Ronnie.

Did the house creak? asks Saint Roley.

Yes, says Terence. Maybe it's Gaius. 

He's sleeping in a tent, in the back garden, says Saint Roley.

He might have gone in for a snack or a wee, says Terence. 

Or it might have been Arthur, says the smallest piece of turnip. Maybe he's in love with Louisa.

Not very likely says Saint Roley. But she may be in love with him. Because he's a poet.

I could have been a poet, sighs Holy Ronnie.

If you finished your poem, says the smallest piece of turnip.

Why don't you finish it? asks Saint Roley.

Because I'm distracted, says Holy Ronnie. I'm thinking about the original Ronnie, and my real name, 2B, and about how it's not a name but a number.

Half a number, says Terence.

Nothing wrong with that, says Gaius, emerging at the side of the house (so it wasn't he who was creaking).

That's what I'd like to think, says Holy Ronnie.

Then think away, says Gaius. I'll give you an example. Do you know what my name is?

Gaius, says Terence.

FULL name, says Gaius. Gaius Plinius Secundus. Secundus is a number.

Secundus? It sounds like a name to Holy Ronnie.

He takes little comfort from this.

Weep For The Lost Part

Night time. On Louisa's verandah. 

There are stars in the sky.

The turnip pieces can see them through the transparent lid.

Words. Blueberries. Only the finest. And higher up, bright stars. 

They wait for the vigil to begin.

Can I sit here? asks Terence. Wait, I need a pillow.

No, you don't, says Saint Roley. A vigil is hard.

Okay, says Terence. I'll stand up. Wait. I need a candle.

No, you don't, says Saint Roley. There are stars.

Can we start? asks Holy Ronnie. 

Certainly, says Saint Roley. Now I want you to be silent and think of the lost things in your life.

I lost my Peruvian hat, in Melbourne, says Terence. I went into a pub and bad people took it.

You're supposed to be silent, says Saint Roley. This is not about you.

Did you ever get it back? asks a small piece of turnip.

I'm not allowed to tell you, says Terence. But am I wearing it? No. That's the answer.

The smallest piece of turnip has got the idea now.

It thinks: I lost a part of myself. I weep for that part. I am not allowed to tell anyone. 

What about you Ronnie? asks Saint Roley.

Is he allowed to talk now? asks Terence.

Yes, says Saint Roley. Enough time has elapsed since we began our silent vigil. 

Woop, says Terence. That means I can talk too.

You had your turn, says Saint Roley. You lost a hat once, which is not even sad.

Terence knows it isn't, because he got another one (and also lost that one; maybe that's sad)

All the turnip pieces are weeping now, because they have remembered the lost parts of themselves.

The blueberry container mists over. The stars fade and falter.

Well, says Holy Ronnie, I've lost height in the time I've existed.

That's natural, says Saint Roley, but I want you to think back to the very beginning.

I was a very long pencil, says Holy Ronnie. And full of ambition

And your name was.....? asks Saint Roley.

The stars shine question marks down on Holy Ronnie. His name was...? 

Not Ronnie! 

Not Ronnie! says Saint Roley. Think back. Who was Ronnie?

Everyone tries to think back, for this is a mystery.

The turnip pieces think back. But it's fruitless.

Terence thinks back, but when the emu wren found Ronnie, he was called Ronnie.

Ronnie thinks back.

Ah-oo-eee-wah!. Once long ago..... (he remembers it now).....his name was 2B.