Wednesday, October 11, 2023

The Comfort Of Curls

Waca's thoughts become fuzzy.

Where was he? Oh yes, he was thinking of Belle.

She was a kind person. If only she had wanted two wooden ducks on a wheeled platform for herself.

But she hadn't.

He tries to remember her face. 

And her hair. Was it curly?

The sand under which he is buried starts moving. 

He hears something.

Woo hoo!

It's Terence.

Ouch! He is grasped by a small cement hand with a claw.

Terence is brushing the sand off, and poking his wheel holes.

Gaius did it! says Terence.

Did what? mumbles Waca.

Buried you, says Terence. He didn't mean to.

C-huh! coughs Waca. Where's Belle?

Dear me, he's rambling, says Gaius. Waca, do you know what day it is?

Don't confuse him, says Camus. 

His confusion is what I'm trying to establish, says Gaius.

Ask him if he knows where he is, says Victor.

Do you know where you are? asks Gaius.

Where I was, says Waca. I had a brother, and a kind owner. She had curly hair.

That was me, says Terence. Your kind owner.

Then why did he call you a she? asks Victor.

Yes, why did you? asks Terence. I'm not one.

Waca looks at Terence. Why is he saying he's not one? 

He'll be fine in the morning, says Gaius. He's just had a shock. 

We'll see about that, says Victor. 

Does this mean you're staying? asks Gaius.

Yes, says Victor. For one thing, I haven't closed the case of the poisoned chocolate.

Roo-kai should be back in the morning, says Gaius. He will bear witness.

Yes! says Terence. Roo-kai's been to Geelong.

Has he now? says Victor.

Things are looking up on the crime front.

Roo-kai is coming! sings Terence, rocking Waca.

Waca is comforted. He gazes fondly at Terence's curls.


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