Bad News For Teeth

The jellybean can obviously hear us, says Kierkegaard. Does that mean it has ears?

I heard that, says the jellybean. Why not ask me?

Because you won't know, says Terence.

I may have a theory, says the jellybean.

Let us hear it, says Gaius.

Everything's inside, says the jellybean.

Hah! says Terence. Let's cut you open and see!

No need for that, says Gaius. We could request an x-ray.

What a crackpot idea, says Vello. An x-ray.

Can one simply request an x-ray? asks Kierkegaard.

I find dentists are only too happy, says Gaius.

I'm not going to a DENTIST! cries the jellybean.

Why not? asks Terence, who has never had to go to a dentist.

I'm bad news for teeth, says the jellybean.

Terence is impressed with this claim by the jellybean.

He's BAD NEWS FOR TEETH.

I'm sure we can get round that, says Gaius. Meanwhile we're here, where there are no dentists, but there may well be emu-wrens. Shall we head across to the bird hide?

Can I come? asks Terence. My pants are rolled up now.

Indeed they are. Rolled up into fat flannelette rings at knee height.

Can you walk properly? asks Gaius.

Yes, says Terence. But my feet can't.

Ha ha, laughs the jellybean. Old Man!

YOU can't come, Bad News, says Terence.

Now then, says Kierkegaard. No name-calling.

But the jellybean shouldn't come, says Vello. He almost caused the death of a thornbill.

How so? asks Gaius.

Vello shows him the photo.

Hmm, says Gaius. So birds find him attractive. He might lure them out.

Using a dangerous jellybean as bait seems like a dodgy practice, says Vello.

We'd take precautions of course, says Gaius.

String, says Kierkegaard. String round the jellybean. Then we'd jerk it away if required.

It's a good idea. Foolproof.

They search the camper for string.

Gelati Not Quite Right

When Vello and Terence return to the campsite, Lily has gone.

It's a school day, says Paloma. She went back in the car with her dad.

What about...? begins Terence.

She left you her unicorn pyjamas, says Paloma.

Yippee! says Terence. Can I put them on?

Go ahead, says Paloma. They're in the camper.

Terence races for the camper.

Vello lingers outside.

You were up early, says Paloma. Were you cold in the camper?

Not at all, says Vello. Terence and I went out in the hopes of finding something unusual.

Like an emu-wren? asks Paloma.

No luck there, says Vello. But I did get an interesting photo.

May I see it? asks Paloma.

He shows her his snap of the thornbill.

A yellow-rumped thornbill, says Paloma. What's that on its bill?

A jellybean, says Vello. That's something you won't see every day.

It won't be able to eat! says Paloma.

It will, says Vello. I removed the jellybean. This is it.

He opens his palm, revealing the jellybean.

You've done a good deed, says Paloma.

Thank you, says the jellybean.

I believe she meant me, says Vello.

To her credit, Paloma does not show surprise.

Well, says Paloma. I'm off to plant these Osborn's Eyebright seedlings. I'll be leaving at eleven, in the camper. Make yourself at home while it's here.

Vello enters the camper.

Gaius is drinking coffee, while Kierkegaard is helping Terence step into the unicorn pyjamas.

They're too long! cries Terence.

We'll roll up the bottoms, says Kierkegaard.

Saucer! says Vello. I have found a curious object.

Must it be a saucer? asks Gaius. This is a camper. They only use mugs.

It's a jelly bean! says Terence, hopping.

Stop hopping! says Kierkegaard. Keep still. Hold onto the leg of the table.

What's curious about it? asks Gaius.

Many things, says Vello. It speaks, for one thing. But it claims to be a mouth, so perhaps that's understandable. Other characteristics it displays are inexplicable.

Gaius puts his coffee cup down.

Most things are explicable, says Gaius.

It commented on my hat, says Vello.

Who wouldn't? says Kierkegaard looking up from his pyjama bottom rolling.

It is a good hat, says Vello. But the point is, it must have seen it.

The question is, says the jellybean, what with? And here's another one. How do I know the capital of Italy?

It thinks it's being tested, says Vello. I assured it it wasn't.

What is the capital of Italy? asks Gaius.

Gelati, says the jellybean.

Not quite right, says Gaius.

Ha ha, you need to bone up! says Terence.

You can talk, says the jellybean. You look like an old man with your trousers rolled up at the bottom.

I DO NOT! shouts Terence.

I grow old, I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled, says the jellybean.

Remarkable! It quotes T S Eliot, says Gaius.

Spontaneous Fungus

Vello rolls the jellybean in the palm of his hand.

He examines its smooth exterior.

Will you answer one question? says Vello.

No, says the jellybean.

He answered it! says Terence. Ask ME a question.

How does it see? asks Vello. Assuming of course that it does.

Eyes, says Terence. And guess where they are?

Enlighten me,  says Vello.

Here, says Terence, pointing to the top of his head.

Those are Smarties, says Vello.

What's he pointing at? asks the jellybean.

The Smarties on top of his head. says Vello.

My fellow Smarties? asks the jellybean.

YES! says Terence. They were the eyes on the Funny Face.

Those are fake eyes, says the jellybean. A biscuit can't see.

I know, says Terence. They're not there to see.

Not where? asks Vello.

Anywhere, says Terence. They're there to make kids look.

I thought so, says Vello.

What's my fate now? asks the jellybean.

You are coming with us to the campsite, where you will be put in a saucer, says Vello.

Then what? asks the jellybean.

Gaius, Kierkegaard and I will examine you, says Vello.

Like a test, asks the jellybean. What's the capital of Italy?

Not like that, says Vello. There will be questions.

Can I bone up on the answers? asks the jellybean.

What's bone up? asks Terence.

Study, says Vello. No you can't. We'll want spontaneous answers.

What's spontaneous? asks Terence.

A type of fungus, says the jellybean.

So it doesn't know everything. That's one less question the philosophers will need to ask.

One Or Two Stab Holes

The jellybean is refusing to cooperate.

But Vello will not be defeated. He turns on the charm.

An interesting life you must have led, says Vello.

Pah! says the jellybean.

My own life has also been interesting, says Vello.

So has mine, says Terence.

I spent some time in the Bastille, says Vello.

I used to live in a palace, says Terence.

Vello nods at Terence. Good. Terence is playing along.

The jellybean HAS led an interesting life for a jellybean.

It decides to reveal it.

I began life as a spoonful of sugar, says the jellybean.

Red sugar? scoffs Terence.

Vello frowns.

BEGAN life! says the jellybean. Allow me to tell my own story.

How long is this story? asks the yellow-rumped thornbill. I have things to do.

I haven't even listed my ingredients, says the jellybean.

What if I come back later? suggests the thornbill.

What if we do the reenactment and then you can leave, says Vello. Terence and I will stay and listen to the jellybean's fascinating story.

You're intelligent, for a human, says the jellybean. And I do like your hat.

I wear it when I'm on holiday, says Vello. So, will you do it?

Agreed, says the jellybean.

The yellow-rumped thornbill prepares to stab the jellybean for a second time.

NOOO! cries the jellybean. Not like that!

I understand the jellybean's concerns, says Vello. He has a ready-made hole from the last time he was impaled on your bill. He doesn't need another one.

No, I don't need another one, says the jellybean.

Vello picks up the jellybean, and assists the thornbill to insert its bill into the hole it made earlier.

Next, Vello snaps a photo. It's a winner.

Am I in it? asks Terence.

The top of your head is, says Vello. I might have to crop it.

No, don't crop it, says Terence.

The jellybean is removed from the bill of the thornbill.

Can I go now? asks the thornbill.

Certainly, and thank you, says Vello.

The thornbill flies off.

Okay, says Terence. Mouth, tell us your story.

Is it just a mouth? asks Vello.

(Kierkegaard would have known this).

Yes, says Terence. That's why it talks.

But, says Vello. If it's just a mouth, how did it see my holiday hat?

This is worth pursuing.

Pink Is Possible

Where were you when you lost it? asks Vello.

Just near where it is, says Terence.

Naturally, says Vello. But can you be more specific?

Terence thought he had been specific.

They have come through the gap in the bulrushes, that he made with his stick.

Vello has skirted the muddy patch.

Terence has stopped in the middle.

Why have you stopped in the mud puddle? asks Vello.

I'm looking for a plant with red seeds, says Terence. It was right near this puddle.

I think I see it, says Vello.

He points to a clump of red fruit saw sedge.

As luck would have it, it's the one the jellybean leapt into.

That's it! cries Terence, squelching out of the mud.

Vello is already peering into the saw sedge.

Nothing in here resembling a jellybean, says Vello.

Bumhole! says Terence.

Of course, it may not be red now, says Vello. It rained yesterday evening. It may have gone white.

u-u u-uu-uu! comes a semi-bird-sounding sound.

They turn. It's a yellow-rumped thornbill, its bill stuck through a small object.

I say! says Vello. That might be your jellybean!

No way. It's pink! says Terence.

It didn't rain all that much, says Vello. Pink is possible.

uu-uu! says the yellow-rumped thornbill.

I wonder if it would allow me to help it, says Vello.

Of course it would. That's what it's been asking.

Vello approaches.

He smiles the smile he usually reserves for ladies.

The thornbill is charmed.

Pop! Vello pulls the pink jellybean off with his thumb and first finger.

He hands the pink jellybean to Terence.

You again! says the pink jellybean.

The yellow-rumped thornbill flies off a short distance.

What a pity, says Vello. I ought to have taken a photo.

The yellow-rumped thornbill returns.

Go ahead, says the thornbill.

With your bill through the pink sweetie, says Vello. It's unusual.

The thornbill is willing to re-enact it, but the jellybean isn't.

Not yet.

Beware Marxists

Vello wakes up early. Very early. It's cold.

Where is he?

In a strange bunk, in a camper, with his holiday hat at his feet.

There is Kierkegaard, in a lower bunk, and Jim, Lily's dad, up the top.

Gaius is snoring under a table.

Ah yes. He is here on a visit. He brought his tent, but lent it to the children.

And the seed-planting mother.

Vello gets out of his bunk, grabs his hat, pulls on his camping boots and goes outside.

Except for the cold, it is delightful. The dawn light cuts through the trees. It reminds him of Ferney.

Perhaps he will spot a rare bird. Or some other creature.

He stands still, hoping to spot something unusual.

Boo! says Terence, poking his head through the tent flaps.

You still have those two Smarties on your head, says Vello.

Good, says Terence. And soon I'm getting unicorn pyjamas.

I came outside in the hopes of spotting something unusual, says Vello.

Me too, says Terence.

I suppose I look somewhat unusual, says Vello.

No, says Terence. You look like you.

What about the hat? asks Vello.

I used to have one like that, says Terence. Grandpa Marx bought it for me in Melbourne. I lost it.

Bad luck, says Vello.

Bad people took it off me, says Terence, remembering the bad people.

Were you by any chance at the Marxist Conference? asks Vello.

Yes, says Terence.

Ahah! says Vello. Beware people who think property is theft.

Lily is GIVING me her pyjamas, says Terence. She doesn't like them.

Why is that? asks Vello.

They've got horns, says Vello.

You don't say? says Vello. That must be uncomfortable. Well, are you coming inside?

No, says Terence. I'm going to look for my old red jelly bean. It talked. And I swallowed it, And then it jumped out of my mouth and into a bush I remember.

I don't think you should go on your own, says Vello. You might not remember.

I'm SURE I remember, says Terence. It was through the gap I made with my stick on the other side of the muddy puddle but just a bit further.

I'll come with you, says Vello.

He is feeling benevolent, even fatherly, for some reason.

Call it the holiday spirit.

He and Terence set off to look for the jelly bean together.

The Zen Tree

In the camper, under the table, Gaius stirs.

He has heard something moving outside.

He is awake now, and thinking.

Gaius's thoughts:

I wonder what that was? A bandicoot, sniffing at the bananas? Where's my phone?  Drat. Now I need to... but what if it was the ladies? I'll wait a few minutes, then go.

He lies awake, listening.

Boobook!

A boobook calls.

That must mean the ladies have returned to their tent.

If it was the ladies.

Gaius stands up, avoiding bumping his head on the table.

He tiptoes outside.

He moves gingerly, in the dark.

The bandicoot is waiting.

Hahem!

I heard the call of a boobook, says Gaius. But before that, I thought I heard you. Not you in particular, but one of your species.

The bandicoot says nothing.

And then, says Gaius, I thought it might be the ladies.

Right both times, says the bandicoot. It was me. I was here for the bananas. I slipped. Then out of the tent came an infant and a girl, not a lady. We spoke for a while. I offended the girl. I do sometimes say things....

Dear me, says Gaius. Would you mind holding the conversation while I relieve myself. I'll just be two seconds.

People say this. I'll just be two seconds.

We all know it takes longer to pee.

The bandicoot doesn't mind waiting, however.

Gaius comes back from behind a low tree.

Continue, says Gaius. You offended young Lily?

About her pyjamas, says the bandicoot.

I'm sure she'll have forgotten all about it in the morning, says Gaius.

Mm, says the bandicoot. I came back to apologise. But perhaps I don't need to.

I'll pass it on, says Gaius. It was nice of you to come back though. Wait. So, there were other ladies?

Yes, says the bandicoot. A human and a crab.

Gaius wonders if he should ask what the ladies had been doing.

He decides against it.

They came out for a piddle, says the bandicoot. It's a bit late to tell you this now, but they used the same tree that you did.

Of all the trees, slaty sheoaks, beaked hakea, tea trees, prickly and silky, small bulloaks, and so on, it would have to be that one.

Here the philosophy of Zen can be helpful.