Curious Boy

It's growing dark. 

A few drops of rain are falling.

Rain! says Surfing-with-Whales. That's it. I'm not camping out here in the rain.

There are trees, says Gaius. As long as we remain under them we won't get too wet.

Yeah well, I'm heading back into Strahan, says Surfing-with-Whales.

As you wish, says Gaius. Perhaps you might leave me the blanket?

Okay, says Surfing-with-Whales.

He gets on his bike and rides off towards Strahan.

He's brave, says Terence.

Brave? says Gaius. He's afraid of the rain.

But not scared of the fire! says Terence.

The rain will put out the fires, says Gaius. And in any case, the fires were travelling in a northerly direction.

Terence sucks on his mango stone.

And thinks about northerly directions.

What are you thinking? asks Gaius.

How do fires know which way to go? asks Terence.

The wind and the upwards terrain, says Gaius. 

Like cardboard, says Terence.

Are you thinking of Saint Roley's brother? asks Gaius.

No, the cardboard he was floating on, says Terence. 

The wind would have been a factor, says Gaius. But not the terrain. Unless you count ocean as a type of terrain, but since terra means earth.....

The rain increases.

This is most inconvenient, says Gaius. The tree does not provide adequate shelter.

He looks aroung for a possible solution.

Roo-kai is perched on the pullalong. 

How about this? says Roo-kai.

Yes! says Gaius, If we turn it on its side we can shelter inside it.

And close up the front with the blanket, says Terence.

Indeed, says Gaius. That will keep us all cosy.

It does. All too cosy.

The pullalong is meant for one small person. Not a man, two birds, one cement infant, and his mango stone, which has become increasingly slippery.

Gaius has to sit with his knees drawn up to his chin.

Terence keeps dropping the mango stone, and scrabbling about in the dark to retrieve it.

Perhaps you have finished it, says Gaius. There can't be much left to suck on.

There IS! says Terence.

This is going to be a long night, says Gaius,

So let's talk, says Terence.

Gaius sighs.

What would you like to talk about? 

The olden days, says Terence.

When I was a young man, says Gaius.

A baby, says Terence.

I have no memory of being a baby, says Gaius.

A boy then, says Terence.

Gaius tries to dredge up his memories of being a boy.

I roamed the banks of Lake Como, says Gaius. 

By yourself, says Terence.

By myself, says Gaius. I was an adventurous and curious boy.

Like me, says Terence.

Except for one thing, says Gaius.

Your hair wasn't curly, says Terence.

Two things, says Gaius.