If Subtractions Were Simple

I'm an oystercatcher, says Roo-kai.

I appreciate that, says Kant. But why take a job as a parrot?

Ask Terence, says Roo-kai. No, on second thoughts don't ask Terence.

My question still stands, says Kant.

Terence trusts parrots, says Roo-kai. It's to do with his origins. There must be wise parrots in Barcelona.

Barcelona? says Kant.

He fell off the Sagrada Famiglia, says Roo-kai. He was part of the decor. Along with the Virgin and Saint Joseph and presumably various parrots.

Wouldn't they have been doves? asks Kant.

You would have to ask them, says Roo-kai. Anyway Terence asked me to be his parrot.

You play a role, says Kant. I understand that. A transcendental ideal.

Kind of you to say so, says Roo-kai. But what is that exactly?

A presupposition, says Kant. 

Not two bicycles behind a kiosk? asks Roo-kai.

I wouldn't say so, says Kant.

I thought not, says Roo-kai.

It has been a good lesson in Kantian thought, but now it's time to get back to collecting data.

Sweezus and Arthur have paddled out with their body boards and the thermometer.

Roo-kai flies out to where they are.

Kant stands ready, with a notepad, on the sand.

Gaius is walking up the beach counting dead pipis.

Terence is trailing behind him.

I can't do ANYTHING, says Terence.

Can you remember the number of dead pipis that Roo-kai had counted? asks Gaius.

A thousand, says Terence.

Gaius is sure it was more, but one thousand is an easy number for Terence to start with.

Write one thousand in the sand, says Gaius. 

What does it look like? asks Terence.

One and three zeroes, says Gaius. One-o-o-o.

Okay, says Terence. Then what?

We'll start counting from there, says Gaius. If need be, we'll do an adjustment.

Terence finds a stick and starts writing. 

o o o

A person in an orange jumpsuit comes down from the carpark and looks at the sea. 

And the seaweed and froth. 

And the dead creatures.

And Terence, writing o o o in the sand with a stick.

Terence looks up.

This is how many dead pipis my parrot counted, says Terence, 

Good job, says the orange jumpsuit. But don't you need a number in front of the zeroes?

Not till we've finished, says Terence.

I'm here to collect a few, for autopsies, says the orange jumpsuit. 

How many? asks Terence.

Ten should do it, says the jumpsuit.

Terence rubs out an o with his stick.

If only subtraction was always that simple.