To Ponder The Quondong

The milk shakes are finished.

I might stay and have another Jamaican Surprise, says Verlaine.

It won't be a surprise, says Arthur

We must go, says Gaius.

Or the quondong pie, says Verlaine.

They leave him pondering.

Gaius and Sweezus get into the camper. 

Can I go in the red car? asks Terence.

No, says Wittgenstein. It's a two-seater.

You and me, says Terence.

You're an infant. You'd have to ride in the back, says Wittgenstein.

Okay, says Terence.

But there is no back, says Wittgenstein.

Get in the camper, says Sweezus.

Terence and Roo-kai get into the camper.

We'll meet in Dubbo, says Gaius.

Dubbo it is, says Wittgenstein.

He starts the engine of the red Mazda Miata, Arthur jumps in. They zoom off.

What was that about a bullet? asks Wittgenstein.

He shot me, says Arthur. We'd had a big fight.

How old were you? asks Wittgenstein.

Can't remember, says Arthur. But my mother came to Paris and took me home on the train.

What was the fight about? asks Wittegenstein.

Who was the best poet, says Arthur.

A strange way to resolve it, says Wittgenstein. 

Arthur agrees that it was.

In the camper the horse problem re-surfaces.

When is Christmas? asks Terence.

When you get your present, which you've already got, says Sweezus.

That's only half of it, says Terence.

He still wants a horse, says Roo-kai.

Wait, says Terence. Did you mean Christmas was over?

It may as well be, says Gaius. We are not in a position to celebrate it this year.

Do you normally? asks Sweezus.

Not really, says Gaius. Do you?

No way! says Sweezus. I lie low. Same as at Easter.

I understand why you might wish to lie low at Easter, says Gaius. But Christmas can be joyous.

Yes, says Terence. Because of the presents.

And seeing your family, says Gaius. If you have one.

I miss my family, says Roo-kai.

Boo-hoo, says Terence. I don't miss mine. I do miss my horse though.

There is no horse, says Sweezus.