Gaius! says Unni. Schopenhauer's slipped and sat down on something slimy!
Gaius peers at the seat of Schopenhauer's pants, with scientific interest.
Could he have sat on a jellyfish?
But a smear is a smear is a smear.
Where exactly? asks Gaius.
Over there, says Schopenhauer, pointing. What does it matter?
My dear chap, says Gaius. It matters for identification.
Of course, says Schopenhauer. For the purposes of stain removal.
That too, says Gaius.
It could be a jellyfish, says Unni, dabbing as lightly as possible at Schopenhauer's bottom, so as not to distress him. It's clear and wobbly.
Any traces of pink? asks Gaius.
No, says Unni.
Arthur, come with me, says Gaius. We'll look for the culprit.
Arthur and Gaius walk slowly over the Howden rocks looking for things that are slimy.
It is marvellous how many things are slimy, and wobbly and clear.
Not all of them jellies.
Arthur spies a used condom, and tactfully kicks it away.
........
Later. Still on the freezing cold beach.
We need to find somewhere to stay overnight, says Schopenhauer. Somewhere with a laundry.
I met this young boy, says Gaius. He lives over there somewhere. He was called back for dinner.
We could .....says Schopenhauer.
No we couldn't, says Unni.
We could ask, says Gaius.
Yes, says Arthur. Let's go.
They get back on their bikes and ride along Howden Road looking for occupied houses.
Here is one with the lights on. Knock, knock.
Xavier opens the door. Hello, says Xavier. What do you want?
Does your mum have a laundry? begins Schopenhauer.
We're looking for somewhere to stay, cuts in Unni. Somewhere with a laundry. Not your house, she adds, with a look that she hopes is disarming.
A look lost on Xavier.
Mum! yells Xavier.
Mum comes to the door.
They want to use our washing machine, says Xavier.
Sorry, says mum, firmly. It's broken. But try Villa Howden, down the road.
Thank you, says Unni, on behalf of them all. And off they go, riding.......
........
Villa Howden, says Schopenhauer. That sounds more like it.
I'll google it, says Unni.
She taps at her phone.
Ooh, says Unni. It's gorgeous. It looks like an Italian villa. It's got free wifi, a saltwater swimming pool, a library.....
It will be pricey, says Gaius.
Never mind, says Schopenhauer, sliding dangerously about on the tan San Marco saddle of the Platonic Ideal.
Saturday, June 7, 2014
Stones Placed In One's Path
Howden beach is a horrible beach if you like sandy beaches. A good one, if you like stones.
Gaius likes stones. He picks his way along the dismal foreshore, looking for interesting specimens. A deceased jellyfish would be a bonus.
Schopenhauer likes stones. Or, let us say, he thinks he likes stones. It is no idle coincidence that his friend Goethe also loved stones.
Schopenhauer ventures down the beach a short distance, and randomly picks up a stone. A brown one with speckles. It looks like an egg but it isn't.
What was it Goethe said?
Even stones placed in one's path can be made into something beautiful.
(No doubt it sounds better in German).
Schopenhauer is looking at the egg stone, and not looking where he is going. He could easily slip on a jellyfish.
Arthur and Unni don't like stones. At least not in particular.
They sit huddled together on a large yellow rock near the bushes.
They are laughing.
They think it would be funny if Schopenhauer slipped on a jellyfish and stained his immaculate trousers.
A boy appears on the beach in the distance. It's Xavier Lim.
He walks past Gaius. Gaius looks up.
Hello, says Gaius. Are you the boy who found the giant lions mane jellyfish?
How did you know? asks Xavier Lim.
Just a hunch, says Gaius. This beach is not very populated. It seemed worth asking.
We're famous, says Xavier Lim. Me and my sister. And dad. He took the photo.
I've seen it, says Gaius. Have you seen any jellyfish lately?
No, says Xavier. But last summer there were lots of sightings. Lisa Gershwin says it's important to find out why they're increasing in numbers
I know Lisa, says Gaius. She seemed a bit cagey.
She's writing a paper, says Xavier. She thinks the one I found is a new species, and if it is she can give it a name. It's a secret until she's certain.
You seem to know a lot about jellyfish, says Gaius. Have you heard about the bright purple thysanostoma, found recently in Coolum?.
Yes, says Xavier. Lisa thinks they might be a new species as well. And have you heard the latest on comb jellies? It's really amazing.
No, says Gaius. I should be very pleased if you'd tell me.
Their DNA has almost none of the genes other animals use to make muscles, says Xavier. In fact, their entire nervous system seems to have evolved independently of all other animals. They've been given their own separate branch on the tree of life.
Goodness me! says Gaius. Are we rethinking evolution? Where might one find a comb jelly?
But before Xavier can answer his dad calls him home for dinner.
Xavier runs off.
Gaius returns to the rock where Arthur and Unni are helping Schopenhauer brush something slimy off the seat of his trousers.
Gaius likes stones. He picks his way along the dismal foreshore, looking for interesting specimens. A deceased jellyfish would be a bonus.
Schopenhauer likes stones. Or, let us say, he thinks he likes stones. It is no idle coincidence that his friend Goethe also loved stones.
Schopenhauer ventures down the beach a short distance, and randomly picks up a stone. A brown one with speckles. It looks like an egg but it isn't.
What was it Goethe said?
Even stones placed in one's path can be made into something beautiful.
(No doubt it sounds better in German).
Schopenhauer is looking at the egg stone, and not looking where he is going. He could easily slip on a jellyfish.
Arthur and Unni don't like stones. At least not in particular.
They sit huddled together on a large yellow rock near the bushes.
They are laughing.
They think it would be funny if Schopenhauer slipped on a jellyfish and stained his immaculate trousers.
A boy appears on the beach in the distance. It's Xavier Lim.
He walks past Gaius. Gaius looks up.
Hello, says Gaius. Are you the boy who found the giant lions mane jellyfish?
How did you know? asks Xavier Lim.
Just a hunch, says Gaius. This beach is not very populated. It seemed worth asking.
We're famous, says Xavier Lim. Me and my sister. And dad. He took the photo.
I've seen it, says Gaius. Have you seen any jellyfish lately?
No, says Xavier. But last summer there were lots of sightings. Lisa Gershwin says it's important to find out why they're increasing in numbers
I know Lisa, says Gaius. She seemed a bit cagey.
She's writing a paper, says Xavier. She thinks the one I found is a new species, and if it is she can give it a name. It's a secret until she's certain.
You seem to know a lot about jellyfish, says Gaius. Have you heard about the bright purple thysanostoma, found recently in Coolum?.
Yes, says Xavier. Lisa thinks they might be a new species as well. And have you heard the latest on comb jellies? It's really amazing.
No, says Gaius. I should be very pleased if you'd tell me.
Their DNA has almost none of the genes other animals use to make muscles, says Xavier. In fact, their entire nervous system seems to have evolved independently of all other animals. They've been given their own separate branch on the tree of life.
Goodness me! says Gaius. Are we rethinking evolution? Where might one find a comb jelly?
But before Xavier can answer his dad calls him home for dinner.
Xavier runs off.
Gaius returns to the rock where Arthur and Unni are helping Schopenhauer brush something slimy off the seat of his trousers.
Friday, June 6, 2014
And You Don't Get Upset
Where are the barnacles? asks Schopenhauer, when Arthur and Unni come back.
They chose freedom, says Unni.
I was unaware they had a right to choose freedom, says Schopenhauer. They formed part of Gaius's collection.
They formed the entirety of my collection, says Gaius. I'll collect more of them on the way back.
You are becoming a philosopher, say Schopenhauer. Just as I am becoming a scientist.
I have long been a philosopher, says Gaius.
Schopenhauer waits for a matching compliment. That would have been nice.
But the compliment is not forthcoming.
Of course there is more to philosophy than mere resignation, says Schopenhauer.
Gaius is no longer listening.
We must get on to Howden, says Gaius. Arthur, where is it from here?
Half an hour away, down Brightwater Road, says Unni. But isn't it lunch time?
Yes, says Schopenhauer. It is lunch time. I saw a cafe on the beachfront at the bay.
.........
They ride back down Ocean Esplanade to Beach Cafe. Beach Cafe looks posh.
Would you like a table upstairs? asks the waiter. There's a wonderful view of the bay.
We would, thank you, says Schopenhauer.
Soon they are sitting upstairs in the Beach Cafe, perusing the menu.
Order whatever you like, says Schopenhauer. I'm in a good mood today. You want to know why?
Why? asks Unni. Oh, I know! It's because of the barnacles.
Yes, says Schopenhauer. I disliked having them in my basket.
You should have said so, says Gaius.
I did say so, says Schopenhauer.
The waiter comes back for their order.
I'll have Beach Parma, says Arthur. Crumbed chicken with bell pepper coulis.
Me too, says Unni.
I'll have pork belly and crispy noodle salad with dried shallots, quince jelly and strawberry chilli dressing, says Schopenhauer.
I'll just have dessert, says Gaius. I'll have the vanilla and raspberry panna cotta with fairy floss, thank you.
Fairy floss!
If the others had seen that on the menu, they would all have had it.
But you get what you get, and you don't get upset.
.........
Mid afternoon. Becoming chilly. They ride into Howden.
A small relatively isolated community on the shore of South West Bay, that verges on bushland.
Gaius heads for the beach, followed by Schopenhauer, Arthur and Unni.
At last. This is where the giant lions mane jellyfish was found, washed up on the beach all those months ago.
Sand, sea and darkening sky.
Seaweed. Stones. Broken pieces of crab claw. A half eaten apple.
A stiffening wind.
An unpleasant realisation.
They may have come all this way, through all these tribulations (and lunches and dinners), to end up finding nothing at all.
They chose freedom, says Unni.
I was unaware they had a right to choose freedom, says Schopenhauer. They formed part of Gaius's collection.
They formed the entirety of my collection, says Gaius. I'll collect more of them on the way back.
You are becoming a philosopher, say Schopenhauer. Just as I am becoming a scientist.
I have long been a philosopher, says Gaius.
Schopenhauer waits for a matching compliment. That would have been nice.
But the compliment is not forthcoming.
Of course there is more to philosophy than mere resignation, says Schopenhauer.
Gaius is no longer listening.
We must get on to Howden, says Gaius. Arthur, where is it from here?
Half an hour away, down Brightwater Road, says Unni. But isn't it lunch time?
Yes, says Schopenhauer. It is lunch time. I saw a cafe on the beachfront at the bay.
.........
They ride back down Ocean Esplanade to Beach Cafe. Beach Cafe looks posh.
Would you like a table upstairs? asks the waiter. There's a wonderful view of the bay.
We would, thank you, says Schopenhauer.
Soon they are sitting upstairs in the Beach Cafe, perusing the menu.
Order whatever you like, says Schopenhauer. I'm in a good mood today. You want to know why?
Why? asks Unni. Oh, I know! It's because of the barnacles.
Yes, says Schopenhauer. I disliked having them in my basket.
You should have said so, says Gaius.
I did say so, says Schopenhauer.
The waiter comes back for their order.
I'll have Beach Parma, says Arthur. Crumbed chicken with bell pepper coulis.
Me too, says Unni.
I'll have pork belly and crispy noodle salad with dried shallots, quince jelly and strawberry chilli dressing, says Schopenhauer.
I'll just have dessert, says Gaius. I'll have the vanilla and raspberry panna cotta with fairy floss, thank you.
Fairy floss!
If the others had seen that on the menu, they would all have had it.
But you get what you get, and you don't get upset.
.........
Mid afternoon. Becoming chilly. They ride into Howden.
A small relatively isolated community on the shore of South West Bay, that verges on bushland.
Gaius heads for the beach, followed by Schopenhauer, Arthur and Unni.
At last. This is where the giant lions mane jellyfish was found, washed up on the beach all those months ago.
Sand, sea and darkening sky.
Seaweed. Stones. Broken pieces of crab claw. A half eaten apple.
A stiffening wind.
An unpleasant realisation.
They may have come all this way, through all these tribulations (and lunches and dinners), to end up finding nothing at all.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
In And Out Of Situ
In a way, they are thinking of jumping.
Unni is thinking of Arthur jumping. It's the sort of thing he would do.
Arthur is thinking the opposite. If she jumps, what will he do?
He starts to unbutton his jacket and stares down at the gurgling water, heaving with seaweed.
Blurp, blurp!
Are you thinking of jumping? asks Unni.
No, are you?
No.
I was thinking, says Arthur. All this water. If we'd waited.
Yeah, says Unni. They would have survived till we got here. Impatient little buggers.
We're here now, says Arthur.
And where are they? says Unni. In a screw top bottle. So what good did it do them?
We could let them out, says Arthur.
I don't know, says Unni. It was really hard getting them in.
.......
Schopenhauer has discovered a midden. A heap of old shells and bones. He picks up a handful and carries it carefully back to where Gaius is snoozing.
Gaius is unimpressed with Schopenhauer's field skills.
Such things are better examined in situ, says Gaius. But of course you weren't to know that.
Schopenhauer finds himself mystified by the scientific method.
Then why are barnacles not better examined in situ?
He doesn't like to ask, so he philosophises:
What is the difference, between old shells and bones and live barnacles? Hum....Aha!.... Life! It is obvious.
His thoughts pass from the general to the particular. Yes, the barnacles. He should let them out.
Too late! Arthur and Unni have come down from their vertiginous rock arch and taken the bottle.
They have unscrewed the top, and tipped out the CSIRO water..
Unni has tried to prise Captain Goose and Captain Wally out through the neck.
Impossible! gasps Unni, giving Arthur the bottle.
Easy! says Arthur, smashing the bottle on a rock.
.........
Captain Goose and Captain Wally drift down, down, to the sea floor below Cemetery Rock. A flat purple fish shimmies past.
A ray ripples towards them, before turning sharply and rippling away.
The seaweed sways this way and that, rubbery, feathery, yellow and purple and brown.
A flat-headed cat shark noses up to them, spotted with denticles.
Save us! cries Captain Goose. This isn't a Blowhole!
A common mistake, says the cat shark. What kind of habitat are you used to?
Oh, don't even ask what we're used to, shudders Captain Wally.
We like heavy wave action, says Captain Goose. A rocky shelf where we can live just above the tube worm zone would be perfect.
That's right, says Captain Wally, admiring his quick-thinking friend.
Then Soldiers Rocks would suit you, says the cat shark. If you don't mind the occasional visitor dropping in unexpectedly. Come on, I'll take you.
They go.
Unni is thinking of Arthur jumping. It's the sort of thing he would do.
Arthur is thinking the opposite. If she jumps, what will he do?
He starts to unbutton his jacket and stares down at the gurgling water, heaving with seaweed.
Blurp, blurp!
Are you thinking of jumping? asks Unni.
No, are you?
No.
I was thinking, says Arthur. All this water. If we'd waited.
Yeah, says Unni. They would have survived till we got here. Impatient little buggers.
We're here now, says Arthur.
And where are they? says Unni. In a screw top bottle. So what good did it do them?
We could let them out, says Arthur.
I don't know, says Unni. It was really hard getting them in.
.......
Schopenhauer has discovered a midden. A heap of old shells and bones. He picks up a handful and carries it carefully back to where Gaius is snoozing.
Gaius is unimpressed with Schopenhauer's field skills.
Such things are better examined in situ, says Gaius. But of course you weren't to know that.
Schopenhauer finds himself mystified by the scientific method.
Then why are barnacles not better examined in situ?
He doesn't like to ask, so he philosophises:
What is the difference, between old shells and bones and live barnacles? Hum....Aha!.... Life! It is obvious.
His thoughts pass from the general to the particular. Yes, the barnacles. He should let them out.
Too late! Arthur and Unni have come down from their vertiginous rock arch and taken the bottle.
They have unscrewed the top, and tipped out the CSIRO water..
Unni has tried to prise Captain Goose and Captain Wally out through the neck.
Impossible! gasps Unni, giving Arthur the bottle.
Easy! says Arthur, smashing the bottle on a rock.
.........
Captain Goose and Captain Wally drift down, down, to the sea floor below Cemetery Rock. A flat purple fish shimmies past.
A ray ripples towards them, before turning sharply and rippling away.
The seaweed sways this way and that, rubbery, feathery, yellow and purple and brown.
A flat-headed cat shark noses up to them, spotted with denticles.
Save us! cries Captain Goose. This isn't a Blowhole!
A common mistake, says the cat shark. What kind of habitat are you used to?
Oh, don't even ask what we're used to, shudders Captain Wally.
We like heavy wave action, says Captain Goose. A rocky shelf where we can live just above the tube worm zone would be perfect.
That's right, says Captain Wally, admiring his quick-thinking friend.
Then Soldiers Rocks would suit you, says the cat shark. If you don't mind the occasional visitor dropping in unexpectedly. Come on, I'll take you.
They go.
Jumping The Cemetery
They ride down the A6. No one is talking.
Correction. The barnacles are talking, but no one can hear them, in the bottle.
Captain Goose: Hey! Hey! Hey! Oi!
Captain Wally: May as well give up.
Captain Goose: What if they've forgotten?
Captain Wally: What?
Captain Goose: The Blowhole!
Captain Wally: Ooh, the Blowhole. What if they forgot?
Captain Goose: Exactly. Jump up and down a bit, will you. And shout.
Captain Wally (jumping): Blowhole! Blowhole!
Captain Goose: Excellent man! Blowhole! Blowhole!
Schopenhauer rides methodically, behind Gaius.
He is keeping his eye open for the turn off to Blackmans Bay.
Suddenly he notices that his bicycle basket is thrumming.
Thrummm! Thrummm! He slows down and looks in.
The barnacles are enjoying the ride, thinks Schopenhauer. He can see their little mouths, opening.
What are they mouthing? Schopenhauer wonders. It looks like a mariners' song. Yo ho! Yo ho!
How jolly the life of a tar.
He nods at the barnacles, and grins, as you would to a capering sailor.
Yo ho, yo ho, sings Schopenhauer, speeding up again.
What's that ? says Gaius, slowing down. Did I hear you say Blowhole, Blowhole?
No, says Schopenhauer. Yo Ho! But yes, we must look out for the turn off. We're stopping off there, remember?
Of course I remember, says Gaius. And here's the turn off. And Arthur and Unni, waiting. Hello, have you two made up your quarrel?
What quarrel? asks Unni. Arthur and me are like that.
She crosses one finger over another, to Arthur's chagrin.
Very good, says Gaius. Now, let's find the Blowhole.
They ride down Blowhole Road to the esplanade, and follow the signs to the northern end of the beach.
The Blowhole is a rock arch, through which you can see the sea rocking and waving and sucking and splashing. Local boys like to jump off it. It's called jumping the cemetery.
Here are some local boys now, in their swim shorts, Axel and Macca.
Foreigners! hisses Axel, spotting Gaius and Schopenhauer. Let's go.
Wait, boys, says Gaius. Is this the Blowhole?
Yeah, says Macca. We're just leavin'.
Axel and Macca melt away, muttering something about jumping off Soldiers Rocks being harder.
Ah, very pleasant, says Gaius, sitting down in a comfortable spot to watch the sea cavorting through the frame of the Blowhole. I should not be surprised to find that this was once an aboriginal gathering place. There may well be a midden nearby.....
Schopenhauer wanders off to look for a midden. It would be a scoop if he found one. He pats the notebook in his trouser pocket.
Gaius closes his eyes.
Captain Goose and Captain Wally are frantic, inside the bottle. Thrumm Thrumm!
They can see, through the salt water and the glass bottle and over the rim of the bicycle basket, the rocky arch of the blowhole, distorted by diffraction.
Suddenly they both stiffen. (Why shouldn't a barnacle stiffen?)
They look at one another. Is that Arthur, standing up there? And the other one? Is it Unni?
So high! Are they thinking of jumping?
Correction. The barnacles are talking, but no one can hear them, in the bottle.
Captain Goose: Hey! Hey! Hey! Oi!
Captain Wally: May as well give up.
Captain Goose: What if they've forgotten?
Captain Wally: What?
Captain Goose: The Blowhole!
Captain Wally: Ooh, the Blowhole. What if they forgot?
Captain Goose: Exactly. Jump up and down a bit, will you. And shout.
Captain Wally (jumping): Blowhole! Blowhole!
Captain Goose: Excellent man! Blowhole! Blowhole!
Schopenhauer rides methodically, behind Gaius.
He is keeping his eye open for the turn off to Blackmans Bay.
Suddenly he notices that his bicycle basket is thrumming.
Thrummm! Thrummm! He slows down and looks in.
The barnacles are enjoying the ride, thinks Schopenhauer. He can see their little mouths, opening.
What are they mouthing? Schopenhauer wonders. It looks like a mariners' song. Yo ho! Yo ho!
How jolly the life of a tar.
He nods at the barnacles, and grins, as you would to a capering sailor.
Yo ho, yo ho, sings Schopenhauer, speeding up again.
What's that ? says Gaius, slowing down. Did I hear you say Blowhole, Blowhole?
No, says Schopenhauer. Yo Ho! But yes, we must look out for the turn off. We're stopping off there, remember?
Of course I remember, says Gaius. And here's the turn off. And Arthur and Unni, waiting. Hello, have you two made up your quarrel?
What quarrel? asks Unni. Arthur and me are like that.
She crosses one finger over another, to Arthur's chagrin.
Very good, says Gaius. Now, let's find the Blowhole.
They ride down Blowhole Road to the esplanade, and follow the signs to the northern end of the beach.
The Blowhole is a rock arch, through which you can see the sea rocking and waving and sucking and splashing. Local boys like to jump off it. It's called jumping the cemetery.
Here are some local boys now, in their swim shorts, Axel and Macca.
Foreigners! hisses Axel, spotting Gaius and Schopenhauer. Let's go.
Wait, boys, says Gaius. Is this the Blowhole?
Yeah, says Macca. We're just leavin'.
Axel and Macca melt away, muttering something about jumping off Soldiers Rocks being harder.
Ah, very pleasant, says Gaius, sitting down in a comfortable spot to watch the sea cavorting through the frame of the Blowhole. I should not be surprised to find that this was once an aboriginal gathering place. There may well be a midden nearby.....
Schopenhauer wanders off to look for a midden. It would be a scoop if he found one. He pats the notebook in his trouser pocket.
Gaius closes his eyes.
Captain Goose and Captain Wally are frantic, inside the bottle. Thrumm Thrumm!
They can see, through the salt water and the glass bottle and over the rim of the bicycle basket, the rocky arch of the blowhole, distorted by diffraction.
Suddenly they both stiffen. (Why shouldn't a barnacle stiffen?)
They look at one another. Is that Arthur, standing up there? And the other one? Is it Unni?
So high! Are they thinking of jumping?
Monday, June 2, 2014
Resolution and Blame
This is like one of those management questions, says Unni.
And I could resolve it, says Arthur, except I'm the sticking point.
Has anyone done a management course? asks Unni.
Of course neither Gaius nor Schopenhauer has done a management course.
Well, dad has, says Unni. And this is how he would resolve it.
She takes Arthur's bottle and pours the water onto the pavement. Then she tips the CSIRO water into the bottle.
What sort of management course did he do? asks Arthur.
Organizational Management in Christian Leadership, says Unni.
You owe me a water, says Arthur.
No, I don't, says Unni. You nicked it.
Gaius and Schopenhauer purport to look shocked.
Oi! shouts Captain Goose. We're just sitting here now with no water!
Blessed are the meek, says Unni, nastily.
Doesn't that sentiment contradict your interpretation of Christian Leadership? asks Schopenhauer.
No, snaps Unni. Give me that cup.
She upturns the cup, and the barnacles drop onto the pavement.
She picks them up, and forces first Captain Goose, then Captain Wally, into the bottle, and screws down the top.
So it's resolved, but rather unpleasantly.
Perhaps we should blame Pastor Moon.
And I could resolve it, says Arthur, except I'm the sticking point.
Has anyone done a management course? asks Unni.
Of course neither Gaius nor Schopenhauer has done a management course.
Well, dad has, says Unni. And this is how he would resolve it.
She takes Arthur's bottle and pours the water onto the pavement. Then she tips the CSIRO water into the bottle.
What sort of management course did he do? asks Arthur.
Organizational Management in Christian Leadership, says Unni.
You owe me a water, says Arthur.
No, I don't, says Unni. You nicked it.
Gaius and Schopenhauer purport to look shocked.
Oi! shouts Captain Goose. We're just sitting here now with no water!
Blessed are the meek, says Unni, nastily.
Doesn't that sentiment contradict your interpretation of Christian Leadership? asks Schopenhauer.
No, snaps Unni. Give me that cup.
She upturns the cup, and the barnacles drop onto the pavement.
She picks them up, and forces first Captain Goose, then Captain Wally, into the bottle, and screws down the top.
So it's resolved, but rather unpleasantly.
Perhaps we should blame Pastor Moon.
No Water No Hat No Tin No Lid No Nothing
Arthur and Unni have been sidetracked, looking for a hat shop.
They are sitting in the Tricycle Cafe and Bar.
This is cool, says Unni, I love the little tricycles on the wall.
Latte? says the waitress.
Mine, says Unni. Hey, d'you know if there's a hat shop near here?
Try the Spacebar, says the waitress. But if you wait until tomorrow you can buy cool hats at the Salamanca Markets.
What happened to my water? says Arthur.
What water? says the waitress. Did you order water?
Yes, says Arthur.
What kind of water? asks the waitress.
The usual kind, says Arthur.
For some reason this answer pisses off the waitress. She flounces off and disappears behind the counter.
Unni finishes off her latte, and they both get up to leave.
There is a bottle of water sitting on the counter. Arthur thinks it will be his. He picks it up, and walks out of the cafe.
They find the Spacebar Gallery, off Salamanca, and go inside.
There are tee shirts, knicknacks and one or two peculiar hats. One cap has two holes in the brim, for eye holes.
Not very captain-like, says Unni.
They ask the owner, Pixx.
Sorry, says Pixx, no captain's hats. Try the Salamanca Markets tomorrow. Hats on Salamanca. Their stall is right next to Wooby Lane.
Arthur goes outside, followed by Unni.
They sit on a seat in the chilly sunshine, Mount Wellington looming in the background.
I should call Gaius, says Unni. See what they're doing.
She calls his number.
Hello? says Gaius. Is that you Unni? Where on earth is Arthur? We need that tin.
What for? asks Unni.
The barnacles, says Gaius. We want to go to Howden but we can't go anywhere unless we find a lid.
Uh, says Unni. You guys are hopeless. Where are you? Oh wait! I can see you! Stop right there, we're coming.
Fancy that. Hobart must be quite small.
Now they are all together.
Schopenhauer gives Arthur the bandages and Betadine from Lisa Gershwin.
Gaius asks Arthur for the tin.
Arthur has lost the tin. But he has the bottle of water.
You're not putting us in that! says Captain Goose, popping his head up from the polystyrene cup that Schopenhauer has been carefully balancing in his bicycle basket.
But it has a lid, says Schopenhauer. You have little choice in the matter.
What kind of water is it? asks Captain Wally.
The usual kind, says Arthur.
No good, says Captain Wally. This water that we're in is proper salty water from the CSIRO.
Empty the bottle, Arthur, says Unni. And fill it with the water from the cup. Then they can go in the bottle with the lid on.
But Arthur refuses to tip out his water.
How to resolve it?
It's like one of those problems that they give you when you do a management course.
They are sitting in the Tricycle Cafe and Bar.
This is cool, says Unni, I love the little tricycles on the wall.
Latte? says the waitress.
Mine, says Unni. Hey, d'you know if there's a hat shop near here?
Try the Spacebar, says the waitress. But if you wait until tomorrow you can buy cool hats at the Salamanca Markets.
What happened to my water? says Arthur.
What water? says the waitress. Did you order water?
Yes, says Arthur.
What kind of water? asks the waitress.
The usual kind, says Arthur.
For some reason this answer pisses off the waitress. She flounces off and disappears behind the counter.
Unni finishes off her latte, and they both get up to leave.
There is a bottle of water sitting on the counter. Arthur thinks it will be his. He picks it up, and walks out of the cafe.
They find the Spacebar Gallery, off Salamanca, and go inside.
There are tee shirts, knicknacks and one or two peculiar hats. One cap has two holes in the brim, for eye holes.
Not very captain-like, says Unni.
They ask the owner, Pixx.
Sorry, says Pixx, no captain's hats. Try the Salamanca Markets tomorrow. Hats on Salamanca. Their stall is right next to Wooby Lane.
Arthur goes outside, followed by Unni.
They sit on a seat in the chilly sunshine, Mount Wellington looming in the background.
I should call Gaius, says Unni. See what they're doing.
She calls his number.
Hello? says Gaius. Is that you Unni? Where on earth is Arthur? We need that tin.
What for? asks Unni.
The barnacles, says Gaius. We want to go to Howden but we can't go anywhere unless we find a lid.
Uh, says Unni. You guys are hopeless. Where are you? Oh wait! I can see you! Stop right there, we're coming.
Fancy that. Hobart must be quite small.
Now they are all together.
Schopenhauer gives Arthur the bandages and Betadine from Lisa Gershwin.
Gaius asks Arthur for the tin.
Arthur has lost the tin. But he has the bottle of water.
You're not putting us in that! says Captain Goose, popping his head up from the polystyrene cup that Schopenhauer has been carefully balancing in his bicycle basket.
But it has a lid, says Schopenhauer. You have little choice in the matter.
What kind of water is it? asks Captain Wally.
The usual kind, says Arthur.
No good, says Captain Wally. This water that we're in is proper salty water from the CSIRO.
Empty the bottle, Arthur, says Unni. And fill it with the water from the cup. Then they can go in the bottle with the lid on.
But Arthur refuses to tip out his water.
How to resolve it?
It's like one of those problems that they give you when you do a management course.
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