If The Cap Fits

Ring ring!

Victor's phone rings.

It's Gaius.

Victor! says Gaius. How are you?

Keeping out of trouble, says Victor.

Ha ha, laughs Gaius. So am I. 

What can I do for you? asks Victor. I'm busy.

Of course, says Gaius. Could you do me a favour?

Have you eaten another penguin pie? asks Victor.

You remember! says Gaius. That was years ago. And it was a normal pie, with no penguin in it.

So you claimed, says Victor.

This is not about that, says Gaius. Do you know anyone in Geelong?

We police have contacts everywhere, says Victor.

Could you ask one of them to go down to the Spirit of Tasmania quay, and keep a lookout for Roo-kai, and two small orange-bellied parrots.

'Ello-ello? says Victor. Orange-bellied parrots? Aren't they endangered? This smacks of a smuggling operation.

Certainly not, says Gaius. I'm surprised at you Victor.

Okay, what is it? asks Victor.

A minor intervention, says Gaius. The orange-bellied parrots are reluctant to fly over Bass Strait.

Isn't that what they do? asks Victor.

These two are part of a zoo breeding program, says Gaius. They've been left at Saint Kilda with no clear instructions. 

I see, says Victor. But Roo-kai is reliable. What's with the checking?

Long story, says Gaius. Camus sent them to Melbourne.

Camus! says Victor. Is he with you?

Yes, says Gaius. And funny you mentioned the penguin pie. He's written a story in which he claims I ate one, and he's now joined my team as a helper, hoping I'll sign some sort of waiver.

Ha ha! laughs Victor. Is he much use as a helper?

No, says Gaius. He bought the wrong snacks, and sent Roo-kai to Melbourne. Then he fed a peregrine falcon a chocolate, after which it died. 

This is serious! says Victor. Stay put. I'll come to Saint Kilda. 

No need, says Gaius.

I'll be the judge of that, says Victor. Poisoning a peregrine falcon is a punishable crime.

Indeed, says Gaius. But you won't find the peregrine falcon. It died just outside Horsham, on its way to tell Roo-kai to divert to Geelong.

Ah! says Victor. Now I get it! You want to know if the message was delivered.

We do, says Gaius. I fear for the orange-bellied parrots.

Rightly so, says Victor. Okay I'll get onto it. See you shortly.

But... says Gaius.

Too late. Victor has ended the call.

I heard all that, says Camus. You made me sound like a criminal.

If the cap fits,  says Gaius. 

Long Silver Grey Ribbons

Gaius returns, in damp shorts.

I saw you talking to the peregrine falcon, says Camus. I assume he's recovered?

It was not he, says Gaius. It was another peregrine falcon. And the news was unsettling.

What news? asks Terence. 

It seems the peregrine falcon charged with delivering our message has died, says Gaius.

Before or after? asks Camus.

How can you die before or after? asks Terence.

You can't, says Camus. What a ridiculous question.

It isn't, says Terence. You die in the middle. Not before or after.

Terence has a point, says Gaius. 

But he missed the point of my question, says Camus.

Yes, says Gaius. The answer is we don't know

See! says Terence.

It's not a question of seeing, says Camus. Sometimes you annoy me.

Sorr-eee! says Terence.

What we don't know, says Camus, is whether the falcon died before he gave Roo-kai the message.

Or in the middle, says Terence

That is a third possibility, says Gaius.

What's the second? asks Terence. 

He died after, says Camus. Now do you see?

Terence doesn't. 

In which case, says Gaius, he will be taking the orange-bellied parrots to Geelong, and not wasting time flying to Melbourne.

That's what he's doing, says Terence. He's the best parrot ever.

I wish there was some way we could check, says Gaius. 

Call the ferry office, says Camus.

And give away our little stowaways? says Gaius. I don't think so.

They sit glumly on the beach, as the sun sinks.

It's a beautiful sunset.

Orange and pink, with long silver grey ribbons.

I know! says Gaius. I'll call Victor.

The policeman? asks Camus. What can he do?

He'll know someone in Geelong, says Gaius. Someone who can snoop around the ferry terminal without arousing suspicion.

Like a spy! says Terence. Do it!

So Gaius calls Victor. After all, Victor ows him a favour.

Or was it the other way round?

Sprayed Not Feathered

Back at Saint Kilda, Gaius is sipping spring water.

Camus has returned with several bottles.

And, without being asked, a small punnet of cherry tomatoes.

You can eat those yourself, says Gaius.

You don't like tomatoes? says Camus. I wouldn't have guessed it.

I'll eat them, says Terence.

I wouldn't recommend it, says Gaius.

What if I squeeze them? asks Terence.

NO! says Gaius. Juice will go everywhere!

So what? says Terence, squeezing a tomato.

Pop! Squirt!

The juice goes everywhere, including Gaius's shorts.

Sorry, says Terence.

Never mind, says Gaius. I'll go for a paddle.

He goes down to the shallows, and splashes sea water onto his shorts.

The tomato seeds wash off easily. The juice leaves a red stain.

Why doesn't Gaius like tomatoes? asks Camus,

Because he's no fun, says Terence, popping another tomato.

Camus quickly leans to one side.

The juice and seeds land on Waca.

Hey! says Waca. Did you do that on purpose?

No, says Terence. But you should let them dry on you.

Will I looks like a parrot? asks Waca.

More like a parrot, says Terence. Not as much as Roo-kai.

Roo-kai doesn't look like a parrot, says Camus. 

Can you see him? asks Terence.

Of course not, says Camus. He's flying to Geelong. At least we hope so. We haven't had news.

When do we get it? asks Terence.

When the peregrine falcon returns, says Camus.

But when? asks Terence.

Ask Gaius, says Camus. He's the one who claims it's the fastest bird on the planet.

So it should be back already, says Terence.

Unless there's been a tragic event, says Camus. 

Terence scans the skies.

A few silver gulls. And ........could it be?....the peregrine falcon!

The peregrine falcon lands on the sand beside Gaius.

Greetings, says Gaius. Did you get over the chocolate?

Hek-ek! says the peregrine falcon. I never eat chocolate.

So you aren't the peregrine falcon that ate the chocolate, says Gaius. What a shame. I was hoping for news.

A shame, is it? says the peregrine falcon. 

I didn't mean that, says Gaius. Some things just slip out. It's wonderful that you never eat chocolate.

Thank you, says the peregrine falcon. Interestingly, I have heard of one of my species that did.

Really, says Gaius. Was this recent?

This afternoon, says the peregrine falcon.. Just outside Horsham.

That is bad news, says Gaius. Particularly so, as we sent him on there on a mission.

Too bad, says the peregrine falcon. 

It flies off.

Will it spot Waca? Will history repeat itself?

No. This peregrine falcon can tell a wooden duck sprayed with tomato seeds from a genuine parrot.

You Need A Minder

Have you thought of a plan? asks one Tzeet.

Yes, says Roo-kai. I'll tell you when we arrive at the Spirit of Tasmania quay.

Why not now? asks the second Tzeet.

Because I can't be specific, says Roo-kai.

Not even a general idea? says the first Tzeet. Otherwise we'll worry.

Don't worry, says Roo-kai. Think about nice things. Think about that movie you saw at the zoo. Was it a good one?

O yes, say the first Tzeet. It was about a fat panda.

And where did they show it? asks Roo-kai.

Outside the café, says the Tzeet. On a smart phone.

You surprise me, says Roo-kai. I imagined it being shown in front of the panda enclosure.

Why? ask the Tzeets.

Because the pandas would have liked it, says Roo-kai.

No they wouldn't, says the second Tzeet. They only like bamboo.

So who was watching? asks Roo-kai.

A kid and her dad, says the second Tzeet. And us, behind them.

On a phone? says Roo-kai. At the zoo?

They were waiting for hot chips, says the first Tzeet.

For an hour and a half? says Roo-kai.

Ha ha, laugh the Tzeets. It wasn't that long!

So you didn't see all of the movie, says Roo-kai.

Yes we did, says the first Tzeet. It was short, like a minute. And then they got their hot chips, and the dad said aren't you glad we came and saw the real pandas? and the girl said yes and asked for a slushie.

It must have been a trailer, says Roo-kai. Did she get the slushie?

We don't know, says the second Tzeet. Our keeper came and took us back to the parrot cage.

I was wondering how you came to be at the café, says Roo-kai.

So were we, says the first Tzeet. We were glad when she found us.

You do need a minder, says Roo-kai. 

Does that mean you're coming with us on the ferry? cries the second Tzeet.

No it doesn't, says Roo-kai. All right, I'll tell you my plan. I'll ask a migrating wader to look after you on the ferry, and point you in the direction of Melaleuca when you disembark.

The Tzeets chew this over.

A migrating wader. Why would a migrating wader be taking the ferry?

What if there isn't one? asks the first Tzeet.

Then we go to plan B, says Roo-kai.

We? say the Tzeets, hopefully.

Plan B is to ask a passing albatross, petrel or shearwater, says Roo-kai. But they probably wouldn't want to come on board. They might agree to meet you in Devonport however...

This would mean sailing alone.

The Tzeets tremble.

What Made Him Say Geez?

Can we go now? asks the first Tzeet.

Okay, says Roo-kai.

Safe journey, says the clamorous reed warbler.

Thank you, says Roo-kai.

Whereabouts in Tasmania are you headed? asks the clamorous reed warbler.

I'm not going, says Roo-kai. I'm just seeing them onto the ferry. 

So, where are you parrots headed? asks the reed warbler.

We don't really know, says a Tzeet.

Devonport, says Roo-kai. 

Then what? asks the second Tzeet.

Fly south west, until you reach Melaleuca, says Roo-kai.

Geez, says the clamorous reed warbler.

Right, says Roo-kai. Let's go.

The two Tzeets and Roo-kai rise into the air and fly above the road to Geelong.

Why did he say geez? asks a Tzeet. Won't it be easy?

What would he know? says Roo-kai.

Yes what would he know? He's just a reed warbler.

But Roo-kai feels bad.

He imagines the Tzeets arriving in Devonport, on the ferry.

Emerging from the dark of the movie theatre (if that's where they've hidden)

Cars, human passengers, tumult and chaos.

It might seem overwhelming.

We'll think of a plan, says Roo-kai.

You could come with us, says the first Tzeet. We'd feel safer with you.

I have other commitments, says Roo-kai. 

It's one more day, says the second Tzeet.

We'll see, says Roo-kai.

Ideally another bird will be catching the ferry.

Perhaps a migrating wader.

He could strike up a conversation. Going to Tassie? Nice day for it. I wonder if you'd mind taking these orange-bellied parrots under your wing? 

Sure why not? the stint or curlew would reply.

And on arrival in Devonport, would you point them in the direction of Melaleuca? Roo-kai would add.

Pleasure, the stint or curlew would say.

Roo-kai feels satisfied he has solved the Tzeets' problems.

I wonder what the movie will be, on the ferry? says one Tzeet.

Let's hope we haven't already seen it, says the other.

Not likely, says the first one. We've only seen one movie.

What was it? asks Roo-kai.

Kung Fu Panda, says the first Tzeet.

Where did you see it? asks Roo-kai.

At the zoo, says the second Tzeet. 

Roo-kai wonders under what circumstances this could have happened.

More Like Grateful

Should we be happy or sad? asks a Tzeet.

Yes, which? asks the other.

Happy, says the clamorous reed warbler.

More like, grateful, says Roo-kai.

You're right, says the clamorous reed warbler. Grateful, because it died before it could eat you.

Not only that, says Roo-kai. It saved us flying to Melbourne only to find that we had to fly back to Geelong.

A selfless action, says the clamorous reed warbler.

The Tzeets look unconvinced.

Let us take a moment to remember him, says Roo-kai. Here beside this fine river.

It's the Wimmera, says the clamorous reed warbler. A vibrant river.

What does that mean? asks Roo-kai.

Lively, says the clamorous reed warbler. 

Roo-kai stares at the river, which does look lively, for various reasons.

Aren't we going yet? asks the first Tzeet.

Not yet, says Roo-kai. Let's bring up our collective memories of the peregrine falcon.

Can I be in it? asks the reed warbler.

Did you meet him? asks Roo-kai.

No, says the reed warbler, but I do feel I know him. What a cock!

Ha ha! laugh the Tzeets. He ate Camus's chocolate!

He must have had a belly-ache almost immediately, says Roo-kai. And yet he came after us.

Perhaps he was promised more chocolate on his return, says the reed warbler.

Or perhaps he wished to do one good deed before dying, says Roo-kai.

Yes, says a Tzeet. Like a hero.

A super hero, says the other one.

Don't get carried away, says Roo-kai.

Super heroes don't die, says the clamorous reed warber. I thought all birds knew that.

The Tzeets don't, says Roo-kai. They were released from a zoo breeding program.

Bad luck, says the reed warbler. Is that why they're catching the ferry to Tassie?

Yes, says Roo-kai. Safer than flying.

I don't know about that, says the reed warbler. 

Is that a veiled warning? asks Roo-kai.

Let me just say they should keep clear of the railings, says the reed warbler. 

We might not know much, says one Tzeet, but we know to stay clear of the railings.

And the reclining seats, says the reed warbler.

Duh, says Tzeet. As if we'd use them.

They show movies, says the red warbler. It's always dark in there. 

Is that where you suggest they conceal themselves? asks Roo-kai.

Can't think of a better place, says the reed warbler.

The Tzeets gaze at the vibrant river.

They imagine a ferry, floating past.

It is captained by a peregrine falcon.

They go aboard.

The captain directs them to the movie theatre deep in the bowels of the ferry, where it is dark. 

What Is All Over Horsham?

Mind if we stop off in Horsham? asks Roo-kai.

The Tzeets do not mind. 

There is a river.

We'll land on the bank of the river, says Roo-kai.

They land.

This looks nice, say the Tzeets. We could stay here for the summer.

Too hot, says Roo-kai. You two amuse yourselves while I look for a road sign.

Okay, say the Tzeets. 

You might forage for nutritious seeds, says Roo-kai. 

We're not hungry, says one of the Tzeets.

No, says the other. But we should have a bath.

Whatever you like, says Roo-kai.

He flies off to look for a road sign that points to Geelong.

The Tzeets flick and splash at the edge of the river.

Having fun? asks a clamorous reed warbler.

Leave us alone, say the Tzeets.

You guys stink! says the clamorous reed warbler.

We know, says one Tzeet. That's why we're washing.

What happened? asks the clamorous reed warbler.

We got shat on, by a peregrine falcon, says one Tzeet.

You're lucky that was all it did, says the clamorous reed warbler.

It wasn't well, says the other Tzeet. It'd eaten some chocolate.

Warble-warble! laughs the clamorous reed warbler. It should have known better!

It does now, says the second Tzeet.

Wait, says the clamorous reed warbler. Didn't it die?

How would we know? says the first Tzeet. We're on our way to Geelong.

Why? asks the clamorous reed warbler.

We're catching the ferry to Tasmania, says the second Tzeet.

The clamorous reed warbler warbles.

You parrots! What softies!

Roo-kai returns. 

I have good news and bad news, says Roo-kai.

Give us the good news, says the first Tzeet.

Geelong is that way, says Roo-kai. Only two hundred and fifty four ks.

What's the bad news? asks the second Tzeet.

Remember the peregrine falcon? says Roo-kai.

Of course they do. They have just washed its diarrhea from their feathers.

It died, says Roo-kai. 

How do you know? ask the Tzeets.

It's all over Horsham, says Roo-kai.

The Tzeets look at one another.

What exactly is all over Horsham?

He Was Trying To Kill You

The peregrine falcon is flying more slowly than usual.

Something is wrong.

Could it be the chocolate?

His belly has become over-active.

Bluh! Pffrrt! 

He flies on.

It's a matter of principle.

The lure of more chocolate has gone.

He can already see Rookai and two tiny orange-bellied birds in the distance.

He speeds up, until he is flying above them.

Bleeuh! Fttt! Ploh!

Roo-kai looks up.

A peregrine falcon! 

Don't look now, Tzeets, says Roo-kai, but there's a predator above us. Our best plan is to scatter.

Shouldn't we stick together? asks a Tzeet.

That's an option, says Roo-kai. But if we scatter it will only take one of us.

If we stick together, says the other Tzeet, it might think we have special powers

You know nothing, says Roo-kai. 

I can hear you, says the peregrine falcon, from on high.

Scatter! says Roo-kai.

Don't bother, says the peregrine falcon. I'm not here for that. I've brought a message. Ooh! Hek!

A few drops of brown faecal matter rain down.

Yuck! cries a Tzeet. 

A sign of my bona fides, says the peregrine falcon. I have diarrhea. Why don't we all land, and I'll tell you what I came here to tell you. 

Fine, says Roo-kai. 

They land, just outside Horsham.

The peregrine falcon looks pale.

Are you okay? asks Roo-kai.

I'm feeling a bit ordinary, says the peregrine falcon. 

What's that stuck to your claw? asks Roo-kai.

The peregrine falcon looks at his claw with distaste.

Turkish delight, he answers.

From Camus's box of Favourites? asks Roo-kai. 

Mm, says the peregrine falcon.

Chocolate is toxic for birds, says Roo-kai. He was trying to kill you.

I should have known, says the peregrine falcon. I'm usually more careful.

What did you come here to tell us? asks a Tzeet.

The Spirit of Tasmania leaves from Geelong, says the peregrine falcon.

Does that mean we're going the wrong way? asks the Tzeet.

Not yet, says the peregrine falcon. You can fly straight to Geelong from Horsham. And it's shorter.

Thanks, says Roo-kai. We'll head to Geelong then. Are you coming?

Why would I be coming? asks the peregrine falcon.

He looks at Roo-kai. and the two little orange-bellied parrots.

Safe journey, says the peregrine falcon.

Ughh! He will have to lie down. 

His heart beats faster.

The three travellers arise and head for Geelong.

The peregrine falcon dies.

Speared On His Claw

Did the falcon eat the whole chocolate? asks Gaius. 

No, says Camus. It was Turkish Delight, and he stopped when he got to the filling.

I can understand that, says Gaius. 

But he did take it with him, says Camus. It was speared on his claw.

Deliberately? asks Gaius.

I don't think so, says Camus. That stuff is sticky.

Indeed, says Gaius. 

Have I killed him? asks Camus.

Quite possibly, says Gaius. However, on the plus side...

Yes? says Camus.

He won't complete his mission, says Gaius. The orange-bellied parrots will be saved.

Thanks to me, says Camus. 

Hum, says Gaius.

Camus decides not to pursue it.

So what now? asks Camus. 

We wait for Roo-kai to return, says Gaius. 

That could be hours, says Camus. Would you like a Passiona?

Water will suffice, says Gaius.

I didn't bring water, says Camus.

Gaius is losing  his patience with Camus.

I'm trying to remind myself why you volunteered to come on this expedition, says Gaius.

In order to be helpful, says Camus.

But you had a hidden agenda, says Gaius.

Let's not speak of it now, says Camus. How about I drive to Mawson Lakes for some water?

That would be useful, says Gaius. 

I'll leave at once, says Camus. Any special kind of water?

Spring water, says Gaius. It's a weakness of mine.

Very well, says Camus. See you later.

He heads for the car park.

Where's he going? asks Terence.

He's going for water, says Gaius. 

He's a good helper, says Terence.

Not in every case, says Gaius. He gave the peregrine falcon a chocolate.

That was smart, says Terence. 

No it wasn't, says Gaius. I may as well be honest. Because of it, the peregrine falcon could die.

Die? says Terence.

Or at the very least, suffer from vomiting, diarrhea, seizures and an increased heart rate, says Gaius.

Woo! says Terence. Will it happen straight away?

It may take some time, says Gaius. Hard to say.

Maybe he'll reach Roo-kai first, says Terence. 

But, says Gaius, that would put Roo-kai and the orange-bellied parrots in danger.

Why? asks Terence. He's only telling them to go to Geelong.

He's a top predator, says Gaius. He'll try to eat them.

Wah! says Terence. But what if he tells them to go to Geelong and then dies before he can eat them?

I suppose that could happen, says Gaius. 

Why not? It's one of the nicer scenarios.

That Was Dogs

What happened over there? asks Camus.

A peregrine falcon swooped on Waca, says Gaius. 

What a joke, laughs Camus.

Not really, says Gaius. It could have had tragic results.

Of course, agrees Camus. But it seems to have recovered.

The peregrine falcon is upright, and scanning the sky.

Watch him, says Gaius.  

Why? asks Camus.

The peregrine falcon is the fastest bird on the planet, says Gaius.

So theoretically, says Camus, it could easily catch up with our orange-bellied parrots, and Roo-kai.

Theoretically, yes, says Gaius. But why should it? It can find closer prey.

I wasn't thinking of that, says Camus.

Gaius doesn't ask what he was thinking. 

The chocolate wrappers are beginning to annoy him. He is now holding three. The one from Camus's Crunchie, the one from his own Cherry Ripe, and the one from the Flake, which Camus handed him, as if he were the designated collector.

I'll just go and look for a bin, says Gaius. 

He heads for the car park.

He wonders if chocolate wrappers are recyclable. After all, they are shiny, like foil. But not aluminium, more like cellophane, so probably not. Perhaps he should keep them, and recycle them himself. But how would he use them?.... of course! glinting wrappers might keep the parrots from eating his apricots in the summer! Just the low ones. Good idea! But now I'm here (thinks Gaius) I may as well visit the toilet......

By the time he returns to the beach, the peregrine falcon has vanished.

Camus looks pleased with himself.

Did you watch him? asks Gaius.

More than that, says Camus. I persuaded him to catch up with Roo-kai, and inform him that the ferry leaves from Geelong.

This cannot end well, says Gaius. 

I didn't mention the orange-bellied parrots, says Camus.

Then the peregrine falcon will get a pleasant surprise, says Gaius. 

No, no, says Camus. We have an arrangement. I offered him a chocolate and he became ecstatic. So I promised him several more if he returns with good news.

Jupiter's gumballs! says Gaius. You don't offer birds chocolate! 

Merde! I thought that was just dogs, says Camus.

Hek ek ek

Meanwhile, Gaius and Camus are still on the beach at Saint Kilda.

Camus has opened the chocolates he bought on the way.

Care for a Favourite? asks Camus.

Gaius is tempted, although he's just eaten an apple.

Go on, says Camus. Energy!

If I eat one, says Gaius, it won't be for the energy quotient.

Suit yourself, says Camus, choosing a Crunchie, unwrapping it and discarding the golden foil wrapper.

A puff of wind blows it a short distance.

I'll get it, says Gaius.

The gold foil wrapper has blown up against Waca.

You look like a prince, says Terence.

Do I? says Waca. 

A duck prince, says Terence.

Hek ek ek! comes a cry!

A peregrine falcon is hovering in the sky above Waca.

About to swoop down.

Swoop! Thwack!

Ahh! cries Waca. Save me I beg you!

You saved yourself! says Terence.

Did I? asks Waca.

It would seem so. 

The peregrine falcon lies stunned on the sand, powerful hooked talons upward.

What's happened? asks Gaius, retrieving the gold Crunchie wrapper.

That bird attacked Waca, says Terence.

No doubt attracted by the gold wrapper, says Gaius.

I'm not stupid, says the peregrine falcon, slowly recovering. I was attacking the duck.

Ha ha, laughs Terence. He's a WOODEN duck!

The peregrine falcon ignores him.

Are you all right? asks Gaius. 

Yes, says the peregrine falcon. I'll fly off shortly.

Don't go too soon, says Gaius. You may have a concussion. 

Okay, says the peregrine falcon. I'll rest here and keep a look-out for soft little birds flying by.

We had two of them, says Terence, but they're flying to Melbourne.

Melbourne? says Gaius. Did you say Melbourne?

Yes, says Terence. They're catching the ferry.

I know that, says Gaius. But the ferry leaves from North Geelong.

He hurries back to Camus, who is eating a Flake.

Did you send the orange-bellied parrots to Melbourne? asks Gaius. 

Yes, says Camus. What's the problem?

The ferry sails from Geelong, says Gaius.

How was I to know? asks Camus. Does it matter? 

A waste of energy always matters, in the bird world, says Gaius.

Chill out, says Camus. Here, have Cherry Ripe.

Resignedly, Gaius accepts it.

Japanese For Bizarre

Nine point three seven five hours, says one Tzeet. How long is that exactly?

Roo-kai sighs. 

I can't be more exact.

Flap flap. 

More silent flying.

Will it be night time when we get there? asks the same Tzeet.

I should say so, says Roo-kai.

Flap flap.

Unless we stop for a break, adds Roo-kai.

Flap flap.

Is there a night ferry? asks the other Tzeet.

I think there is, says Roo-kai. But you'll be too late to catch it.

So we might as well stop for a break, says the first Tzeet.

Fine, but not yet, says Roo-kai. We've only just started.

Flap flap. 

Courage! says Roo-kai.  Let us pass the time in conversation.

About what? asks the first Tzeet. We don't know much.

Then ask me a question, says Roo-kai.

Flap flap.

The Tzeets try to think of a question.

Why are you called Roo-kai? asks one Tzeet.

Ah, says Roo-kai. Good question. And it has a long answer.

Go on, says the Tzeet who asked the question.

Well, says Roo-kai. My full name is Roo-kai Catcher. That's what it says on my parrot passport.

Wow! says the second Tzeet. A parrot passport! And you're not even a parrot!

I'm an honorary parrot, says Roo-kai. And Roo-kai is the name Terence gave me.

Does it mean anything? asks a Tzeet. Is it your alarm call? 

No, says Roo-kai. It's how Terence pronounces Ryouki.

Ryouki, says the Tzeet. That sounds Japanese.

It is Japanese, says Roo-kai. Japanese for bizarre.

Why did Terence call you that? ask the Tzeets.

Someone told him it meant Roger, says Roo-kai. 

Roger! Hee hee! laugh the Tzeets.

As in 'received and understood', says Roo-kai. That kind of Roger.

Is that why you have to obey him? asks one Tzeet.

I don't have to obey him, says Roo-kai. I have my own moral compass. Sometimes I advise him. 

Does he take any notice? asks the Tzeet.

Flap flap.

What do you think? says Roo-kai.

Impressive Exactitude

 Excuse me, says the first orange-bellied parrot, whose name is now Tzeet.

What is it? asks Roo-kai.

How far is Melbourne? asks Tzeet.

Seven hundred and forty seven kilometres, says Roo-kai.

How long till we get there? asks the second orange-bellied parrot, whose name is also now Tzeet.

That depends on how fast you can fly, says Roo-kai.

We don't know, say the Tzeets. 

Then we can't do the maths, says Roo-kai.

How fast can YOU fly? ask the Tzeets.

This fast, says Roo-kai. Possibly faster.

He speeds up. He flies like a butterfly, wings flapping.

The Tzeets try to catch up.

Yes! If they try, they can go that fast too!

So now what? ask the Tzeets. What are the numbers?

My top speed is eighty, says Roo-kai. Divide seven hundred and forty seven by that.

But the Tzeets weren't taught maths in the zoo breeding program.

You do it, says the first Tzeet.

It's a tricky one, says Roo-kai. There'll be remainders.

What are remainders? asks the second Tzeet.

Leftovers, says Roo-kai.

The Tzeets know about leftovers. But how is that helpful?

I'll do an approximation, says Roo-kai. Let's call it seven hundred and fifty.

Can you do that? asks the first Tzeet.

Of course, says Roo-kai.

Then let's call it seven hundred, says the second Tzeet.

Or five hundred, says the first.

It doesn't work like that, says Roo-kai. It has to be closer.

It WOULD be closer, says the first Tzeet.

Just shut up and let me do the maths, says Roo-kai.

Oo-er! Sorry sir! says a Tzeet.

Hee-hee! sniggers the other one.

Apologies, says Roo-kai. But maths requires full concentration.

Silent flying and flapping ensues.

Carry three, mutters Roo-kai, eventually. Followed by :

NINE POINT THREE SEVEN FIVE HOURS!

Tzeet!

The Tzeets are impressed with the exactitude of Roo-kai's approximation.

Two Tzeets

The orange-bellied parrots are fast fliers.

And it's not long since lunch.

They won't need to touch down for ages.

Perhaps not until they reach Melbourne, and board the ferry.

Are you excited? one asks the other.

I am, says the other. There are sure to be nutritious seeds on the ferry.

Big ones, they agree.

They wing on......

Roo-kai is also a fast flier.

But he has not had lunch.

Except for that one little pipi.

He assumes he is going in the right direction.

Terence did point this way.....

Five minutes later:

Wait for me! calls Roo-kai.

He has seen the two orange-bellied parrots in the distance.

And they have heard him.

One looks back.

Slow down! It's Roo-kai!

They circle.

What fun.

Roo-kai catches up.

You're going the wrong way! says Roo-kai.

But...the sand map! say the parrots.

It's unreliable, says Roo-kai. Let me stop and eat something. Then I'll show you the way.

They land. Roo-kai pokes about in the sand for bivalve molluscs.

He finds a few. Cracks them. Slurp. Ahh! That's better. 

Now, says Roo-kai, Melbourne is that way. Follow me.

The orange-bellied parrots fly directly behind him.

So our mother's map was wrong, says the first one.

He wasn't your mother, says Roo-kai. 

I guess that's a good thing, says the second one.

You don't need a mother, says Roo-kai.

Yes, says the first one. We have you now. 

I'm just a guide, says Roo-kai. By the way, what do I call you?

Tzeet! says the second one. 

Tzeet, says Roo-kai That's a nice name.

Tzeet is our alarm call, says the first one. We don't have our own names.

It's still a good name, says Roo-kai. You should have it.

Tzeet!  Their guide thinks it's a good name.

Okay, they will have it.

At least until Melbourne

Red Lips With Seeds

Curses! says Gaius. They've gone the wrong way!

Too bad, says Terence. Maybe they'll come back when they notice.

Perhaps, says Gaius. But I wish they had waited. My map has more details.

Can I help? asks Waca.

Not unless you can fly, says Gaius.

Roo-kai can fly, says Terence.

Why didn't I think of that? says Gaius. Where is he?

Looking for molluscs, says Terence. I'll run after him.

Swallow that strawberry first, says Gaius. On second thoughts, leave it with me.

Too late! Terence swallows the strawberry and sets off down the beach to where Roo-kai and Camus are looking for molluscs.

I have a penchant for seafood, Camus is saying.

Who doesn't? says Roo-kai.

Some don't, says Camus. Some are allergic.

That would be terrible, says Roo-kai. 

He pokes his beak into the sand where a bubble is rising.

Mussels, says Camus. In a rich bouillabaisse. With baby octopi. 

You've lost me, says Roo-kai, cracking open a pipi.

Eee! goes the pipi.

This is when Terence arrives.

Guess what! says Terence. 

You've been running, says Roo-kai.

And? says Terence.

Eating a strawberry, says Roo-kai. You've got  red lips with tiny seeds in the corners.

Like a girl! says Terence. No I haven't!

He wipes a hand across his red lips. 

Now what do I look like?

Normal, says Roo-kai. 

Come to help us look for molluscs? asks Camus.

No! Terence remembers what he has come for.

The orange-belly parrots flew off !

Good for them, says Camus. That shows they have courage.

No it doesn't, says Terence. They went the wrong way!

Which way? asks Roo-kai. Perhaps I can catch them.

That way, says Terence, pointing northwards. 

Roo-kai flies off, in that direction.

So much for that, says Camus. I was hoping to find some fresh mussels.

Ha ha! laughs Terence.

They plod back to Gaius and Waca.

I heard what happened, says Camus.

They flew off precipitately, says Gaius. Where is Roo-kai?

Already flying after them, says Camus.

Excellent, says Gaius. 

Guess what? says Terence. Camus wants new muscles!

Mussels, says Camus. Fresh mussels. It was just a thought. They'd go well with the Cheezels and Twisties.

Tch! says Gaius, taking another bite of his apple.

Cheezels and Twisties!

But fresh mussels might have been nice.

Odd Bites

By the way, says Gaius. Do you have a knife?

No, says Camus. Didn't think I would need one.

I recall there was a knife in your story, says Gaius.

It was a literary knife, says Camus. A means of progressing the narrative.

That's what I was thinking, says Gaius. Those very words, a literary knife, passed through my mind.

When was this? asks Camus.

On my way back here, says Gaius. The reason being, I purchased some cheese.

And you need a cheese knife, says Camus. You may have to improvise.

It's not easy to improvise a cheese knife, says Gaius. 

Is the cheese crumbly? asks Camus.

I doubt it, says Gaius. It wasn't expensive.

Rubbery? says Camus.

I hope not, says Gaius.

There's a wire fence at the base of the sand hills, says Camus. 

Probably rusty, says Gaius. By the way, do you like eating cheese?

Not Australian cheese, says Camus.

In that case says Gaius, I'll just take odd bites of it, as required. 

When do I get my strawberry? asks Terence.

Right now, says Gaius, opening the punnet.

I'm off to look for molluscs, says Roo-kai.

I'll come with you, says Camus. 

Good, says Gaius. I wish to speak with the orange-bellied parrots.

What about? asks the first orange-bellied parrot.

Your decision, says Gaius. What do you think will happen, if you stay here?

We'll be safe, says the first orange-bellied parrot.

It's going to be a hot summer, says Gaius. You might die of heat stroke.

Will I die of heat stroke? asks Terence.

No, says Gaius. You won't. But the orange-bellied parrots need to go somewhere cooler.

They're too scared to fly over the ocean, says Terence. 

That's a problem, says Gaius.

Why don't they go on a boat? asks Terence.

Indeed! says Gaius. There's a thought. The Spirit of Tasmania. And it wouldn't cost anything.

He is thinking that, for two tiny parrots, there'd be no need to pay.

But The Spirit of Tasmania leaves from Melbourne.

Would you consider flying to Melbourne? says Gaius. Then catching the ferry.

Melbourne? says the first orange-bellied parrot. Yes! We know how to get there!

Yes we do! says the second orange-bellied parrot. There's a map in the sand.

Camus's sand map! Not oriented properly. Melbourne, a dot. Tasmania, a triangle, with rounded edges. 

The orange-bellied parrots are excited about catching the ferry. They make a moral decision. They will leave straight away.

Tzeet!

They fly off in a northerly direction.

Which is not the right way.

The Knife Person

Gaius is cycling back to Saint Kilda, with his shopping.

A bag of apples, a few carrots, a punnet of strawberries which were on special. 

And a block of cheese, about which he is fretting.

Has he packed a knife?

Usually he has Arthur to think of these things. 

If he doesn't have a knife, Arthur always obtains one.

No questions asked.

Camus doesn't seem like a knife person,.

But then who does, on the surface? And what about that book that he wrote? There was a knife in it somewhere. Not that a literary knife could cut cheese.

Ha ha! A literary knife. He must tell Camus. But Camus may have already heard it.....

He should have purchased a knife when he had the opportunity. But what a waste of money. And embarrassing too. You have to prove you're not a minor. For a cheese knife!

Alternatively, he could have bought pre-grated cheese.

Pre-grated cheese. Which probably costs extra.

He takes a deep breath. Never mind.

For the rest of the journey he will be in the moment.

The sky is blue, almost cloudless. The air is warm. The sea rocks gently. Silver gulls gather on the shore.

The mangroves smell as though they are dying, which they are.

Here he is, at Saint Kilda.

He sees Camus and Terence, and Roo-kai, the two orange-bellied parrots and Waca.

He wheels his bike onto the sand.

I'm back. Who'd like an apple?

Not me, thanks, says Camus. 

Guess what? says Terence.

No, you can't have an apple, says Gaius. But I'll crush you a strawberry.

Not that, says Terence. The parrots aren't going!

Where? asks Gaius. 

Across the ocean, says the first orange-bellied parrot. We've made an independent moral decision.

Yes, says the second orange-bellied parrot. Not going. Why should we?

It's in your nature, says Gaius. Or it should be.

But why? asks the first orange-bellied parrot. We say Poo! to tradition.

Dear me, says Gaius. Has someone influenced you to think in this self-destructive fashion?

He looks hard at Camus.

Is he, after all, a knife person?

Exactly My Point

Roo-kai is showing the orange-bellied parrots the flight path.

You follow this blue line, says Roo-kai. And when you get to the end you'll be in Melaleuca.

Not Tasmania? says the first orange-bellied parrot.

Melaleuca is in south west Tasmania, says Roo-kai.

Roo-kai knows everything, says Terence.

Not everything, says Roo-kai. 

Hey! says the second orange-bellied parrot. Why is there nothing in this part?

That is the ocean, says Roo-kai.

Do you mean to say we have to fly over it? asks the first orange-bellied parrot.

If you want to join your fellows, says Roo-kai, Melaleuca is where they will be.

The two orange-bellied parrots look fearfully at the ocean.

Don't look at it! says Roo-kai.

But we have to get used to it, says the first orange-bellied parrot.

This is a gulf, says Roo-kai. Bass Strait, which you must cross, is more treacherous.

You're frightening them, says Camus.

Yes he is, says the second orange-bellied parrot. Do we really have to go?

No, says Camus. You can think for yourselves. Embrace individual moral freedom....

Is this your philosophy? asks Rookai. 

A snippet, says Camus. It means you decide what you think is right.

Yes, says Waca. Like Saint Roley's brother.

What about Saint Roley's brother? asks Camus, who has not heard about Saint Roley's brother.

Roo-kai told me about him, says Waca.

Go on, says Camus. 

No don't, says Roo-kai. It will put them off going.

Tell us, so we can weigh up the facts, say the orange-bellied parrots.

He drowned, says Terence. 

We don't know that, says Roo-kai.

Even Saint Roley knows that, says Terence. He said the Pointing Finger was pointing the wrong way.

First I've heard of it, says Roo-kai. The Pointing Finger must know the right way. We oystercatchers believe Saint Roley's brother is still out there somewhere.

Except for Saint Roley, says Terence. He doesn't.

I guess that's up to him, says Roo-kai.

Exactly my point, says Camus.

The two orange-bellied parrots are silent, thinking about the fate of Saint Roley's brother.

And the point of Camus.

 

Parrots Not Tourists

Gaius has departed for Mawson Lakes, to buy apples.

Camus is adding to the map of Tasmania, which he has drawn in the sand.

This, says Camus, is Melbourne. You start off from here.

But we aren't in Melbourne, says the first orange-bellied parrot.

No, says Camus. First you have to get there.

But you said start off from Mebourne, says the second orange-bellied parrot.

I'm trying to keep it simple, says Camus.

Like the Virgin, says Terence.

Who? says Camus.

Watching Saint Joseph chase me with a hammer, says Terence.

What's that got to do with keeping it simple? asks Camus.

She didn't do anything, says Terence. And I got whacked. But she isn't my mother.

Camus is in two minds. Should he pursue this? Why isn't the Virgin his mother? Wasn't it Saint Joseph who wasn't his father? And does it matter?

He decides that it doesn't. 

These little parrots need a map, and he will provide one. He draws a line out from Melbourne.

It occurs to him that his map may not be oriented properly. The little parrots must not set off in the wrong direction due to his error. Merde! Which way is east in this country?

He consults Gaius's map which lies on the sand with a stone on top, to stop it from blowing away.

Here comes Waca, says Terence. And Roo-kai. 

Good! says Camus. I need to ask Roo-kai something.

Ask away, says Roo-kai.

If you were  flying to Melbourne, says Camus, which way would you go?

Why is this relevant? asks Roo-kai.

For these parrots, says Camus. I'm showing them the way to Melbourne from here. Then the way to Tasmania.

They're parrots, not tourists says Roo-kai. They fly directly.

He points to a blue line on Gaius's map. 

See. This is their flight path.

Camus is clearly no expert on birds.

He looks somwhat dejected.

Never mind, says Roo-kai. You weren't to know.

Cheer up and sing us a song, mother, says the first orange-bellied parrot.

Camus tries to think of a song. Ah oui! This one:

Alouette, gentil alouette/ allouette, je te plumerai.....( he sings )

Luckily the orange-bellied parrots don't understand French.

 

Him The Best

Gaius has reassembled his bicycle.

He is about to ride off.

But perhaps he should let Camus know where he's going.

He did tell Terence, but Terence may not have remembered.

He wheels his bike down through the sand hills.

He spots a piece of paper.

And beyond it, a snake.

I'll just pick up this paper! says Gaius loudly.

The snake slithers away.

Well ! says Gaius. How fortuitous. This is mine. No doubt the wind took it.

He picks up the paper, and continues wheeling his bicycle towards Camus and Terence, on the sand near the flies.

Camus is drawing in the sand with a stick.

Terence and the two orange-bellied parrots are watching.

I've come back, says Gaius, for two reasons. 

Us, says one of the orange-bellied parrots.

No, says Gaius. Although I'm pleased to see that you're here.

Our mother is drawing us a map of Tasmania, says the other orange-bellied parrot.

Gaius looks at Camus's picture. Tasmania? It looks like a theatrical mask.

I haven't finished, says Camus. But this is the general shape of it. Flat across the top and pointed at the bottom.

A pointed bottom, says Terence. That's it there.

Tasmania doesn't have such a pointed bottom, says Gaius.

I'm aware of that, says Camus, scuffing out the pointed bottom and redrawing it, in a more rounded fashion.

That's more like it, says Gaius. 

But how do we get there? asks the first orange-bellied parrot.

Good question, says Gaius. First you need to know where you are in relation to your destination.

That sounds hard, says the first one.

Not hard, says Gaius. And as luck would have it, I found my own map in the sandhills.

The orange- bellied parrots are impressed. They have never seen maps in the sandhills.

Yes, it must have blown away, says Gaius. It's one of the reasons I've come back. 

And what's the other one,? asks Camus.

To let you know I'm cycling to Mawson Lakes to buy apples, says Gaius. 

I already knew that, says Camus. 

I told him, says Terence. And guess what?  

What? asks Gaius.

The parrots thought I was their mother, says Terence. 

How delightful, says Gaius. But I heard one of them say that Camus was their mother.

Because I wasn't, says Terence.

Even though we liked her the best, says the second orange-bellied parrot. 

Him the best, says Terence.

Not As Little As Me

Are you our mother? asks the first orange-bellied parrot.

Are who? asks Terence.

You, says the second orange-bellied parrot. We hope so. The first one wasn't.

Who was the first one? asks Terence. 

That one, says the first orange-bellied parrot, indicating Roo-kai in the distance, pushing Waca towards them.

There's two of them, says Terence. Roo-kai and Waca. Both boys.

Waca is a toy duck, says Camus. Strictly speaking, he can't have a gender.

Ha ha! laughs Terence. 

Well? asks the first orange-bellied parrot. Now we're asking you. Are you our mother?

That's the most dumb question ever, says Terence.

You could be our mother! says the second orange-bellied parrot.

I suppose anyone can be a mother, says Camus.

And that's the most dumb answer ever, says Terence. 

I mean, take on the role of a mother, says Camus. It's a question of individual responsibility.

Woo! says Terence. Why don't you be their mother?

It seems they have settled on you, says Camus. 

Not necessarily, says the first orange-bellied parrot. We're at the point where we'll accept any mother.

I have little to offer, says Camus.

Not as little as ME, says Terence.

If no one will be our mother, says the second orange-bellied parrot, who is to teach us how to fly to Tasmania?

Anyone can do that, says Camus. You just need directions. No doubt Gaius has maps. 

Gaius is up at the car, reassembling his bicycle, but his notes have been left on the beach.

The wind has been ruffling them.

And one or two pages have blown into the sandhills, where there are snakes. 

Let's hope none of these are the page with the map of Tasmania.

A passing snake stops for a look.

If it does see a map of Tasmania, it shows little reaction.

Their Curly-Haired Mother

Camus returns, having washed his hands in the ocean.

Where's Gaius? asks Camus.

Getting his bicycle, says Terence. So he can buy apples.

It's in a flat pack, says Camus. Do you think he needs help?

No, says Terence. And where's Waca?

I left him at the water's edge, says Camus. He wanted to stay there.

He DIDN'T! says Terence. Go back and get him.

Aren't we supposed to wait here? asks Camus.

Yes, says Terence. We all are. Including him.

What's the matter? asks Roo-kai, who has been circling the area, keeping an eye out for parrots.

Waca's floating away, says Terence.

Hold your horses, says Camus. He's not floating.

He's sinking! says Terence.

I'll go and see, says Roo-kai.

He flies down to the edge of the water.

Waca is gazing out to sea.

Is that Tasmania? asks Waca.

I doubt it, says Roo-kai. It looks like an oil tanker.

Could I float there? asks Waca.

Not from here, says Roo-kai. Why would you want to float out to an oil tanker anyway?

To go to Tasmania, says Waca.

Let me tell you a story, says Roo-kai.

He tells Waca the sad story of Saint Roley's brother who floated away on a flat piece of cardboard off the coast of Saint Malo, and was not seen again.

Waca is discouraged. 

Come back and wait for the orange-bellied parrots, says Roo-kai. 

Okay, says Waca.

Waca can't walk on his own, so Roo-kai has to push him through the sand.

This will take ages.

Meanwhile the orange-bellied parrots have finished feasting on nutritious seeds.

They have followed Gaius's footprints to where Terence and Camus are waiting.

Look at that! says one to the other. Could that be our mother?

Which one? asks the other.

The small one, says the first one.

She looks nice, says the other. She has parrot shorts. And her hair is all curly.

Except on the sides, says the first one. It must be a fashion.

They land gracefully, in front of Camus, and Terence, their curly-haired mother.

No Flies On Him

What are you doing? asks Gaius.

Distracting the flies, says Camus.

He has scraped the orange icing, cake crumbs and sand from Waca's belly.

I agreed to it, says Waca. 

Camus walks away a few paces.

Do you think this is far enough? asks Camus.

Are you going to bury it? asks Gaius.

No, says Camus. Just leave it where the flies can get at it.

Then I suggest you move further away, says Gaius. 

Camus moves further away. 

All the flies follow. 

He squats. He tries to put down the sticky handful.

Not all of it comes off his hand.

I shall wash the rest off in the ocean, says Camus.

Take me with you, says Waca.

That was my intention, says Camus.

Incidentally, we located a pair of orange-bellied parrots, says Gaius.

Good for you, says Camus. Where are they?

Coming, when they've finished eating, says Gaius. 

I'll try to get back before they do, says Camus. My plan is to do something else to make Waca's belly appear orange, while being less attractive to flies.

Very enterprising, says Gaius. I assume you mean orange peel. 

If only, says Camus.

You didn't buy apples, says Gaius. I assume you bought oranges instead. 

He didn't! says Terence. He bought Cheezels and Twisties!

I'm sure he bought some things that were unprocessed, says Gaius.

Chocolates, says Terence.

Do you mean there are no fresh items amongst our provisions? asks Gaius.

Things in packets keep better, says Camus. But I'm not defending myself. I intended to go back for the apples, but forgot.

A thick cloud of flies is now buzzing around Camus's hand, and the unwashed belly of Waca.

Go and wash, says Gaius. I'll wait here, with Terence.

Camus takes Waca down to the water's edge, where he crouches and splashes.

The flies buzz over his head.

Really! says Gaius. No fresh anything. I can't deal with this.

Me too, says Terence. Make him go back to the shops.

I don't think I can trust him, says Gaius. Did he buy water?

No, says Terence. He bought Passionate drinks.

Passiona! says Gaius. That's the last straw! Fortunately my bicycle is in the boot of his car. Wait here Terence, while I get it.

He goes to get it, avoiding the sticky pile which the flies have already returned to. 

As we know, there are no flies on him.

Born With The Knowledge

Roo-kai spots two grass-green blobs, in the saltmarsh.

He flies down.

Mother! squawks one grass-green blob.

To be fair, it looks less like a grass-green blob and more like a parrot, close up.

And it has an orange belly patch.

As does the other.

I can't be your mother, says Roo-kai. 

Can you be mine? asks the other one.

Nor yours, says Roo-kai. For one thing, I'm an oystercatcher.  For another, I'm a male of the species.

You see, says the grass-green parrot to the other, we should have paid more attention.

Gaius arrives, out of breath.

Wonderful! says Gaius. A pair of orange-bellied parrots. Well done Roo-kai.

He's not our mother, says the first orange-bellied parrot.

I did not mean to imply that he was, says Gaius. But he has found you, which is wonderful.

Thank you, says Roo-kai.

We heard that the other orange-bellied parrots have left for Tasmania. says Gaius.

Who told you that? asks the second one.

Me, says Roo-kai.

And who told you? asks the first one.

The Bartailed Godwit, says Roo-kai. Why? Isn't he reliable?

It's not that, says the first orange-bellied parrot. We don't even know him. But he might tell us more about Tasmania.

I can do that, says Gaius. Tasmania is where you orange-bellied parrots go to breed, after wintering here in South Australia.

What is breed? asks the second one.

You will know when you get there, says Gaius.

It comes naturally, says Roo-kai. 

Okay, says the first one. How do we get there? 

Were you not born with the knowledge? asks Gaius. 

The orange-bellied parrots look at one another.

They were hatched at the Adelaide Zoo. And released recently.

They shake their heads.

I see you were not, says Gaius. If you would like our assistance, come with us. We have maps.

We're in the middle of eating, says the first parrot.

Don't let us stop you, says Gaius. We shall return to our colleagues. You can follow our footprints, when you're ready.

He and Roo-kai set off, back to where Camus, Terence and Waca are contesting with flies.

Get them away from me! cries Waca. I'll be infested with maggots!

They keep on returning! says Camus.

Kill them! yells Terence.

What with? shouts Camus.

This is ridiculous. If Camus can't deal with flies, what good is his philosophical background?

He takes a moment.

Yes. Bien sur! Scrape off the icing and cake crumbs. Set it aside on the sand, some way off. Wash Waca. Start again with something else orange, but less attractive to flies.  

What might that be? Rien! He will deal with that later.

Spitting On Crumbs

What's the plan? asks Camus.

Two fold, says Gaius. Firstly, we find the right habitat.

I thought this was the right habitat, says Camus.

Too much sand, says Gaius. And not enough vegetation. We must proceed to the saltmarsh.

And the rest of the plan? asks Camus. 

Terence will place Waca somewhere conspicuous, once he is finished, says Gaius.

Finished? says Waca.

The cake crumbs will be a nice touch, says Gaius.

I knew it was a good plan, says Terence.

Don't use all the cake, says Camus. 

Okay, says Terence.

He breaks a chunk off. And crumbles it into the sand.

Now, says Terence. Roll forward into it.

Me? says Waca.

 Of course you, says Terence.

Fancy some cake? asks Camus.

I'd prefer an apple, says Gaius.

There are no apples, says Camus.

But I specifically asked for apples, says Gaius. Never mind, what else is there?

But before Camus can answer 'only junk food', Roo-kai flies down.

A few have been spotted in the coastal saltmarsh vegetation, just north of here, says Roo-kai.

Right, says Gaius. You lead the way. I'll follow. 

We'll save you some cake, says Camus.

Gaius hurries off.

Waca has rolled forward onto the sandy cake crumbs, and many have stuck to his belly.

You look good, says Terence. 

Now what? asks Waca.

Display yourself, says Camus. 

Waca leans back, to display himself.

The orange icing dotted with cake crumbs attracts several flies.

Buzz off! says Waca.

We assumed you were trying to attract us, says one fly.

Well I wasn't, so buzz off, says Waca.

Yes buzz off says Terence. We're attracting a parrot.

Fancy! says the fly, spitting on a cake crumb.

This is not going well.

A Duck At Bottom

It is not far to Saint Kilda.

They will be there soon.

Terence is struggling with the orange cake icing.

What's that for? asks Waca.

Glue, says Terence. I'll cover your belly patch with orange icing, then stick the crumbs on.

Don't put it too low down, says Waca.

He has seen the photo of the orange-bellied parrot and concluded its orange patch is too low. 

Okay, says Terence. Keep still.

He has at last got a decent sized handful of icing.

Everything all right back there? asks Gaius.

Yes! says Terence. Waca's going to look even better than an orange belly parrot.

Bellied, says Gaius. Wait! We don't want him to look even better. What are you doing?

Smearing, says Terence. But higher.

Gaius turns, to see what Terence is doing.

Lower, says Gaius.

He doesn't want it lower, says Terence. It's too near his hole.

It's not that, says Waca. But at bottom, I'm a duck, and my belly sits higher.

I hadn't thought of that, says Gaius. I'm not even sure it's the case....perhaps we should ...

Here we are, says Camus. Saint Kilda.

So here they are, and Waca is nowhere near ready.

Camus pulls up in the foreshore carpark. and jumps out.

Takes a deep breath. Regrets it.

Roo-kai flies down.

Gaius gets out to greet him.

Roo-kai! Have you spotted any orange-bellied parrots?

They've gone back to Tasmania, says Roo-kai. But there's a rumour of some newly released ones.

Released from where? asks Gaius.

A breeding program, says Roo-kai. With any luck they won't know about Tasmania.

Excellent, says Gaius. Where are they?

The Bartailed Godwit I asked didn't know, says Roo-kai.

Never mind, says Gaius. Terence is making Waca up now, to attract them. 

Roo-kai looks in through the back window.

Waca looks back, hard, daring him to make a rude comment.

 But Roo-kai doesn't do it.

The Practical Packer

Camus arrives at the back of the car. Opens the boot and deposits the provisions. 

He closes the boot.

All done, says Camus. Did you get your notes sorted?

All but the illustration, says Gaius. It appears to be missing.

You gave it to me, says Terence.

Then it's probably irretrievable, says Gaius. Never mind, I know what the orange-bellied parrot looks like.

But I don't, says Camus. For me, an illustration would have been helpful.

Don't worry, says Terence. We've got Waca, and a cake.

Ha ha! laughs Gaius. That is a non sequitur if ever I heard one.

What does that mean? asks Terence.

It does not follow, says Camus. Gaius means that a missing illustration of a parrot is not solved by cake.

Wrong! says Terence. It's an ORANGE cake!

Aha! says Gaius. Now the penny drops. Camus bought a cake.

As a treat for Terence, says Camus. He was helpful during the shopping.

Yes, says Terence. We bought more treats as well. Everything was treats, and nothing was healthy.

But Gaius is following the previous train of thought, about the orange cake, and misses this crucial information.

So you plan to do Waca up as an orange-bellied parrot with orange cake, says Gaius. I presume it's a sticky one?

Yes, says Terence. When we get going I'll start.

Wonderful, says Gaius. And if you don't use the whole cake perhaps we might have a nibble.

You eat cake? says Camus.

On occasion, says Gaius. Now, as we're all here, and the shopping's done, let's continue our journey. 

Camus turns on the engine. Purrrr (it's electric).  And off they head to Saint Kilda.

I'll call up a picture on my phone if you like, says Gaius.

For me? says Terence.

No, for Camus, says Gaius. But as he's driving, you can look at it first.

He calls up a photo.

Here we are! Bright grass green upper parts, yellow underparts, orange belly patch. The trick is not to confuse it with an elegant parrot which looks rather similar.

Why would that confuse it? asks Terence.

Waca had wondered the same. But he has worse things to worry about. Where is the cake?

Terence has been wondering that too.

Where's the cake? I want to get started.

In the boot with the rest of the shopping, says Camus. I'll pull over.

He pulls over, pops the boot, and Gaius gets out.

Gaius reaches into the shopping bag of unhealthy treats, no apples, no carrots, no water or crackers.

Will he notice?

 Not yet. Because the orange cake is on top.

(always a sign of a practical packer).

What Whatsits

Are we there yet? asks Terence.

Not yet, says Camus. We need to stop for provisions.

And carrots, says Terence.

The carrots will constitute part of our provisions, says Gaius. We also need apples, water and crackers.

Let me do the shopping, says Camus, pulling into the Mawson Lakes carpark next to the Coles.

If you would, says Gaius. I need to sort these notes out. They seem to have become disordered.

Can I come? asks Terence.

Certainly, says Camus. And you may choose a treat for yourself.

Yay! says Terence.

He gets to choose a treat for himself!

Camus enters the supermarket, having picked up a trolley.

He lifts Terence in, and wheels him towards the fruit and vegetables.

But he keeps going.

Hey! says Terence. You went past the carrots!

I'm heading for the cakes, says Camus.

That's even better, says Terence.

Camus arrives at the cakes.

Pick one, says Camus.

Terence picks one that looks orange.

His thinking goes: This will make Waca look carroty.

This one, says Terence. Now we don't need the carrots.

Camus places the sticky orange cake in the trolley, and heads for the Cheezels and Twisties.

He selects several large multi-packets.

Gaius won't like those, says Terence. He wants apples.

We'll go back for the apples, says Camus, but first I must pick up some drinks.

He selects a six cans of Passiona.

They pass the chocolates. Camus can't resist a box of Favourites. 

Now to go back for the apples.

Wait! says Terence. Should we buy birdseed?

I think not, says Camus. Supermarket birdseed might poison the whatsits.

What whatsits? asks Terence, alarmed,

 You know, says Camus. The whatsits we're looking for.

They're not whatsits, says Terence. Or if they are, they're not what we're looking for.

Camus likes this answer. 

That was a well thought out answer, says Camus.

Can I choose another treat? asks Terence.

No, says Camus. We'd better be going.

They head to the checkout, forgetting the apples.

Ask The Great Knot

Camus and Gaius must first drop Sweezus off in the city, then stop somewhere else for provisions.

Roo-kai is flying to Saint Kilda directly.

So why don't we follow Roo-kai.

Roo-kai was not offended, by the wasp killing. No. He has forgotten it.

He is thinking of the orange-bellied parrot. Will it be there?

He flies over Prospect, Gepps Cross, Mawson Lakes ...

Hnm-snff. Yes! He can now smell Saint Kilda.

He flies over the dying mangroves, and lands on the sand.

Great. He spies an Eastern Curlew. It might know what's what.

He approaches the Eastern Curlew.

Who are you? says the Eastern Curlew. Are you new?

Yes and no, says Roo-kai. Are you?

Not new, says the Eastern Curlew. 

Good, says Roo-kai. I was wondering if you might have seen an orange-bellied parrot, anywhere in this vicinity?

There were a few, says the Eastern Curlew. But it's spring. I reckon they've gone back to Tassie.

All of them? asks Roo-kai.

How would I know? says the Easten Curlew. Why don't you ask that Great Knot?

Roo-kai sees a Great Knot in the near distance.

He approaches the Great Knot.

Excuse me, says Roo-kai. 

What? says the Great Knot.

Seen any orange-bellied parrots? asks Roo-kai 

I have not, says the Great Knot.

What's that coming out of your nostril? asks Roo-kai.

Snot! laughs the Great Knot.

(the trouble with Great Knots is you're tempted to provoke this kind of answer).

Roo-kai wonders how he can re-frame his question.

Fortunately he doesn't have to. A Bartailed Godwit flies down providentially.

Looking for someone in partic-tic-tic-ular? asks the Bartailed Godwit.

Orange-bellied parrots, says Roo-kai. Or have they all gone to Tasmania?

No, says the Bartailed Godwit. Some new ones have just been released, and they missed the boat, metaphorically speaking.

This is good news for Roo-kai.

Not Resigned To Oblivion

We'll go in the electric car, says Camus. It will be faster.

An excellent idea, says Gaius. My bike is still in a flat pack. But I would like to take it.

There'll be plenty of room, says Camus. 

Are you off? asks Pierre-Louis. What about provisions?

We'll stop on the way, says Camus.

Drop me off in the city, says Sweezus.

Can I sit in the front? asks Terence.

You can sit in the back with Roo-kai, says Gaius. That is, unless Roo-kai plans to fly.

I do plan to fly, says Roo-kai. I'll meet you at Saint Kilda.

He leaves through the open front door and flies off.

He didn't say goodbye, says Terence.

Maybe he's offended, says Sweezus. He saw how the wasp died.

So did I, says Terence. You killed it.

I didn't, says Sweezus. It was him.

I did it to save you being stung, says Pierre-Louis.

And now look, says Terence. 

Why don't you bring Waca, says Gaius. He can ride in the back seat with you, and who knows, he might be useful.

Waca, who had resigned himself to oblivion, is thrilled.

He might be useful!

How? asks Terence.

As a decoy, says Gaius. 

We're shooting birds, are we ? asks Camus.

Of course not, says Gaius. Ideally he would look more like a parrot, but there isn't time.

I can make him look more like a parrot, says Terence. Remember?

Gaius remembers the grated carrot stuck to the front of the now space-bound Cwaca.

Yes. Terence could be occupied in the back seat, doing that. But are there any carrots?

He goes to the pantry.

No. Only two sprouting potatoes.

We could peel these, I suppose, says Gaius.

Just buy some fresh carrots, says Sweezus. A wooden duck stuck with potato peel won't attract anything.

I didn't know you were an expert, says Gaius. In fact potato peelings would attract a number of creatures, but you're probably right in the case of the orange-bellied parrot.

So it is decided.

Gaius loads his flat-packed bike into the boot.

He and Camus get into the front seats of the electric car.

Sweezus, Terence and Waca get into the back.

Bruumm! Or rather, hummm... (the car being electric).

They drive to Saint Kilda.