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.