Hope Was A Rope

Early morning, in the cellar. 

Saint Ténénan has made potato soup.

Can we go now? asks Terence.

As soon as we've finished our breakfast, says Saint Arnoc.

Have you thought about the ceremony? asks Gaius.

Not yet, says Terence. 

Think about it while we finish our soup, says Gaius. Some kind words about how he broke his neck in your service.

Bertille comes down the stone steps.

Dad's finished draining the ship, and now it's drying in the back garden, says Bertille. Then he's going to mend the second hole. Then he's taking it back to the museum.

Rusty looks worried.

Don't worry, he's not taking you, says Bertille. 

Phew! says Rusty. I'm never going back there.

Where's the dead bird? asks Bertille.

In the corner, says Saint Arnoc. Under a coverlet.

Bertille goes to the corner and lifts up the coverlet.

Aww. Sad.

We're having a ceremony, says Terence. I'm saying the kind words, when they're ready.

Can I come? asks Bertille. 

Sure, says Terence.

Breakfast finished, Gaius, Rusty, Bertille, Terence and the saints head down to the beach, with the dead oystercatcher wrapped in the coverlet.

Gaius places it on the sand. Its orange feet are just visible at one end of the coverlet. Black feathers are visible at the other end. (It's a short coverlet).

Several oystercatchers have also gathered.

Now Terence will say a few words, says Gaius. 

A poem, says Terence. Dear kind parrot, who brought us a hope.....

The oystercatchers look at one another.

You might want to rethink that first line, says one. He isn't a parrot.

He is now, says Terence. And not every bird gets to be one.

Yes, shut up, says Rusty. This is our ceremony. We'll say what we like.

No need for rudeness, says Gaius. They have a valid point, but let's not spoil the moment.

Terence feels he should start again, with an amendment.

Dear kind new parrot, who brought us a rope.

You said hope, says Rusty. Not rope.

What rhymes with hope? says Terence.

Rope, says Rusty. I get it. That was the second line.

Yes, says Terence.

Ridiculous, says an oystercatcher, under its breath. 

Hope was a rope, says Terence. Until your neck broke. 

Broke doesn't rhyme with hope and rope, says Rusty. 

I know that, says Terence. It rhymes with ......

Spoke, says Bertille.

Thanks, says Terence. Until your neck broke.....

And no one spoke, says Rusty. Because it was sad, and also bad, that Terence's carrot, becoming a parrot, could no longer happen.

That's a good rhyme, says Terence. Parrot and carrot.

That's debatable, says Gaius. And happen is simply left hanging. However, I think we can say that the ceremony is over. What are we doing with the body?

Dad's drying out the cardboard, says Bertille. It could float away like a Viking.

But not on fire, says Saint Arnoc. That would draw too much attention.

The oystercatchers look at one another.

Perhaps we might be of assistance?