Post-Life Adventure

By mid afternoon, they arrive in Devonport, in time to book seats on the ferry.

Gaius goes to the ticket office, with Terence.

Travelling with a vehicle? asks the booking officer.

No, says Gaius. We hired bikes. 

What about my skateboard? asks Terence.

No charge for a skateboard, says the booking officer. So, two adults and one child?

And one parrot and one baby skate, says Terence.

We don't need to pay for them, says Gaius.

Baby skate? says the booking officer. Not a maugean skate, I hope. 

Yes, says Terence.

No, says Gaius. It's more like a herring.

In a tin? asks the booking officer.

A bottle, says Gaius. It's a gift for my colleague's mother. He bought her some green peppercorn cheese, but we were obliged to eat it.

Mainland? asks the booking officer. That's a good cheese.

Indeed, says Gaius.

And what was that about a parrot? asks the booking officer.

It's an oystercatcher, not a parrot, says Gaius. It usually makes its own way.

All right, that will be three hundred and fifty seven dollars, says the booking officer. For two adults, one child and no extras.

Gaius pays.

Now to return the mountain bikes and the pullalong to Devonport Bike Hire.

You lied, says Terence, as Gaius lifts him into the pullalong. 

A white lie, says Gaius. Not entirely justified, but harmless.

What's a herring? asks Terence.

A clupea harengus, says Gaius.

Terence picks up the bottle containing the not entirely justified but harmless clupea harengus.

That's you now, says Terence.

The dead baby skate drifts up and down in the vinegar.

Enjoying his post-life adventure.