Socialist Trousers

Squattu is good with a charcoal pencil.

She has drawn upside down trees.

Good trees, says Terence. 

Thank you, says Squattu. I know trees top to bottom.

Ha ha, laughs Terence.

He has laughed loudly on purpose. Time the grown ups woke up.

Arh-arh! yawns Gaius. Jumping Jupiter! Have I slept in?

No, says Terence. You weren't sleeping in anything.

True, says Gaius. Marx warned us it would be spartan.

Prrrp! Marx stirs in his bed.

Rise and shine, says Marx, kicking off his blanket.

The blanket falls to the floor, next to Pierre-Louis.

Pierre-Louis pulls it over his body.

But it's morning. Too late for that late now.

Look, says Terence. Squatty did trees with a pencil.

I wish I'd seen how she did it, says Gaius.

Want me to do another one? asks Squattu.

No! says Terence. We've got enough trees.

Let me see, says Marx. The trees are upside down. Is there a reason?

Bats hang upside down, says Gaius. Which is when they get their best chance to examine the structure of trees.

Wouldn't they be sleeping? asks Pierre-Louis.

My trees aren't upside down, says Squattu. 

They are, says Terence.

But I was working on the opposite edge of the paper, says Squattu. 

Ah! says Marx. It's the drawing that's upside down.

No it isn't, says Terence. Look where the blur is. And the posts.

A deepening enigma, says Gaius. Now, is there any breakfast?

No, says Marx. I'm invited to a Marxism Conference breakfast. You'll have to fend for yourselves.

He is already pulling on a pair of red trousers.

Bold trousers, says Pierre-Louis.

We'll head off too, says Gaius. Back to the station, to catch a train to Yellingbo.

Enjoy yourselves, says Marx. Have you brought thermals?

Err, no, says Gaius. How about you, Pierre-Louis?

Err, no, says Pierre-Louis.

And you'll be camping I take it, says Marx.

Yes, says Gaius. We came away in a bit of a hurry.

Take a blanket, says Marx, indicating the one on the floor.

Very kind, says Gaius. But we shouldn't. Who does it belong to?

To each according to his needs, says Marx.

That's all very well, begins Gaius.

But he decides to accept it.