Holy Knees

Jeane Jugan is now level with Arthur.

Mind if I ride alongside you? asks Jeanne.

No, says Arthur. 

Where are the frogs? asks Jeanne Jugan.

I've got them, says Arthur.

Yes, but where? asks Jeanne Jugan. You don't have a panier velo.

In my pocket, says Arthur. I chucked out the rest of the apples.

Those frogs had been injured! says Jeanne Jugan.

I know, says Arthur.

Imagine you had been injured, says Jeanne Jugan.

I was, says Arthur. Remember?

In a serious way, says Jeanne Jugan. Split open. By cement feet. However holy.

Terence's feet, says Arthur. They're not holy.

They represent holy feet, says Jeanne Jugan. You must admit that.

All right, says Arthur. I'm split open. 

He utters a sharp moan of anguish.

What's happened! cries Belle.

A lesson in empathy! shouts Jeanne Jugan. 

Now what? says Arthur.

You've been patched up, and you're feeling quite lively, says Jeanne Jugan

Until someone shoves me in their pocket and gets on a bike, says Arthur. 

Exactly, says Jeanne Jugan. Now take a look at the motion of your pockets.

Arthur is cycling quite fast. So is Jeanne Jugan.

If he watches his pockets, he can't watch the road.

He watches his pockets.

The pockets go up and down hypnotically.

Arthur swerves, knocking the front wheel of Jeanne Jugan.

She wobbles.

Watch the road! cries Jeanne Jugan.

Yes, watch the road! croaks Quiet-tartus, his eyes just visible above the hem of Arthur's pocket.

We almost had an accident, says Jeanne Jugan. 

We know, says Quiet-tartus. We were wondering if we could ....

Come to me, says Jeanne Jugan. At least till we get to Saint Malo. Then we'll find you a comfy container.

Arthur stops suddenly, intending to take the frogs out of his pocket.

The saints are behind him, not paying attention.

Discussing the knees of Pope Francis.

A collision seems imminent.