Face To Face With The Bottom

They cycle away from the lighthouse.

Sorry if my remark caused you to leave prematurely, says Victor.

Not at all, says Captain Baudin. I was about to leave anyway.

Captain Baudin is perched on Victor's bicycle seat, clutching it tightly.

It brings him face to face with Victor's bottom.

Victor, says Captain Baudin. Are you aware that you're bleeding?

 Victor was not. But he knew that the back of his trousers was damp.

It may be mercury, says Victor. I had a suspicion I'd broken the thermometer.

But you placed it in a plastic bag, says Kierkegaard. 

And then sat on it, says Victor.

Cheer up, says Captain Baudin. I'm convinced that it's blood, and not mercury.

How can you be sure? asks Victor.

I was in the French merchant navy, says Captain Baudin. Captured by the English. Escaped and recaptured. I've seen plenty of blood spilled in my lifetime.

I guess that was before you were a lobster, says Sweezus. 

Of course, says Captain Baudin. I was eventually made Captain of the Admiralty at La Rochelle. At that time such an honour could not be bestowed on a lobster.

Captain of the Admiralty! says Victor. That was good.

Very good, says Captain Baudin. And even better, at present I'm waiting to find out if I've been accepted as a member of the Society of the Cincinnati.

Do they accept lobsters? asks Sweezus.

To be honest they're unaware I'm a lobster, says Captain Baudin. I felt, living here, it wasn't necessary to tell them.

Is that why you want to check your mail? asks Arthur.

Yes, says Captain Baudin. I have been waiting since 1784 for an answer. Today could be the day.

Well yes. But strictly speaking it's still Christmas Day, with no mail delivery. 

On the other hand, the Festival of Cycling commences tomorrow.

So it must be the 19th of January.

That's one of the mysteries of SPACE-TIME.