Curly Questions

The collision does not happen.

The saints stop in time.

That was a close one, says Jeanne Jugan. Lucky you two were paying attention.

But we weren't, says Saint Méen. 

No we weren't, says Saint Maclou. It could only have been a divine intervention.

Or good brakes, says Arthur.

Were your minds on heavenly things? asks Jeanne Jugan.

In a way, says Saint Méen. We were discussing the knees of Pope Francis.

O yes! His poor knees! says Jeanne Jugan. It's the ligaments. I hear he has tried an injection.

Really? says Saint Maclou. Do we know if it helped?

Not a lot, says Jeanne Jugan.

We were discussing whether or not he should pray, says Saint Méen.

Isn't that his job? says Arthur.

For himself, says Saint Maclou. I imagine he would consider it inappropriate.

Would you? asks Jeanne Jugan.

Pray for myself? asks Saint Maclou. Never.

Wouldn't it depend how you put it? asks Arthur. 

Here, says Jeanne Jugan. Give me those frogs.

Arthur has been thinking about the curly question, and forgetting the frogs.

He hands them to Jeanne Jugan.

Doing a swap? asks Saint Méen.

Arthur doesn't have a container, says Jeanne Jugan. 

And you do? says Saint Méen.

First aid kit, says Jeanne Jugan.

She whips it out from under her loose black t shirt.

The frogs are aghast.

A first aid kit. Smelling of ointment with a use by date of two thousand and seven!

Get in, says Jeanne Jugan. You frogs are lucky. It's nice and warm.

The frogs hop in, feeling anything but lucky.

The first aid kit is returned to the place under Jeanne Jugan's black t shirt. 

A mysterious place. No one can quite picture where it is, or from what the first aid kit is suspended.

Holy Knees

Jeane Jugan is now level with Arthur.

Mind if I ride alongside you? asks Jeanne.

No, says Arthur. 

Where are the frogs? asks Jeanne Jugan.

I've got them, says Arthur.

Yes, but where? asks Jeanne Jugan. You don't have a panier velo.

In my pocket, says Arthur. I chucked out the rest of the apples.

Those frogs had been injured! says Jeanne Jugan.

I know, says Arthur.

Imagine you had been injured, says Jeanne Jugan.

I was, says Arthur. Remember?

In a serious way, says Jeanne Jugan. Split open. By cement feet. However holy.

Terence's feet, says Arthur. They're not holy.

They represent holy feet, says Jeanne Jugan. You must admit that.

All right, says Arthur. I'm split open. 

He utters a sharp moan of anguish.

What's happened! cries Belle.

A lesson in empathy! shouts Jeanne Jugan. 

Now what? says Arthur.

You've been patched up, and you're feeling quite lively, says Jeanne Jugan

Until someone shoves me in their pocket and gets on a bike, says Arthur. 

Exactly, says Jeanne Jugan. Now take a look at the motion of your pockets.

Arthur is cycling quite fast. So is Jeanne Jugan.

If he watches his pockets, he can't watch the road.

He watches his pockets.

The pockets go up and down hypnotically.

Arthur swerves, knocking the front wheel of Jeanne Jugan.

She wobbles.

Watch the road! cries Jeanne Jugan.

Yes, watch the road! croaks Quiet-tartus, his eyes just visible above the hem of Arthur's pocket.

We almost had an accident, says Jeanne Jugan. 

We know, says Quiet-tartus. We were wondering if we could ....

Come to me, says Jeanne Jugan. At least till we get to Saint Malo. Then we'll find you a comfy container.

Arthur stops suddenly, intending to take the frogs out of his pocket.

The saints are behind him, not paying attention.

Discussing the knees of Pope Francis.

A collision seems imminent.

Hat Under Helmet

So it's back to Saint Malo.

Belle and Jeanne Jugan are cycling side by side.

It's so nice to see you again, says Jeanne Jugan. 

And you, says Belle. What have you been up to?

I've taken up gardening, says Jeanne Jugan. 

I'd love to see your garden, says Belle. Do you grow flowers?

O yes, says Jeanne Jugan. Hydrangeas. 

Lovely, says Belle.

Any carrots? asks Terence.

No, says Jeanne Jugan. Potatoes.

The saints grow potatoes, says Belle. 

Potatoes are easy, says Jeanne Jugan.

I'm getting a ride on a pony, says Terence.

The saints don't have a pony, says Jeanne Jugan.

Their neighbour's pony, says Belle. Someone called Madame Ponty.

THAT pony! says Jeanne Jugan.

What about it? asks Belle. Is it a handful?

You'll see, says Jeanne Jugan. Make sure Terence is wearing a helmet.

Can I have yours? asks Terence. 

Too big, says Jeanne Jugan.

What if I borrow Pierre-Louis's hat? asks Terence.

It's not a helmet, says Jeanne Jugan. 

Under your helmet, says Terence. The hat would fill in the spaces.

Jeanne Jugan and Belle both imagine what Terence would look like in a Lapland type hat under Jeanne's yellow-eyed helmet.

I think we can do better, says Belle.

Did I hear someone mention my hat? asks Pierre-Louis, drawing level.

Jeanne Jugan drops back.

Three abreast is too many.

Terence was thinking of asking if he could borrow it, says Belle.

Any time, says Pierre-Louis.

Yay! says Terence. Now?

Not now, says Pierre-Louis.

That means you lied, says Terence. 

Any time I'm not using it, says Pierre-Louis.

You're not using it, says Terence.

I am, says Pierre-Louis. How does one use a hat but by wearing it?

That's what I'd be doing , says Terence.

Stop it, Terence, says Belle. Stop talking and look at the scenery.

Terence stops talking and looks at the scenery. 

Road: long and boring

Roadside: boring

Rocks: grey and brown

Sand: boring

Sea: a bad place in which carrots decompose and become one with the universe

Sky: a white cloud that looks like the head of a pony

The Expanding

Arthur is far from the shore.

If he kept going he would end up in England.

He imagines it happening.

He wades onto the cold English sand.

English people are walking there with their shoes on.

Crunch crunch.

He turns and swims back towards France.

Midway, he passes a flat crimson fronted parrot.

He resolves to remember this thing.

On the shore, Belle is waiting.

Arthur! I asked you to stay on the road!

I left clues, says Arthur.

We found the clues, says Belle. I guess this is your bike wheel, and your phone?

 And my apples, says Arthur.

They look sour, says Belle.

Out there, says Arthur, I passed a flat crimson fronted parrot.

He thinks Belle will be surprised. 

She isn't.

They gather the wheel and the phone and the apples, and walk up to the road.

You found him! says Jeanne Jugan.

Guess what? says Terence. 

What? says Arthur. 

I split open the frogs, says Terence. 

So much for my mission, says Arthur.

They're not dead, says Saint Méen. They've been patched together with plasters.

Okay, says Arthur. Give them to me and I'll get going.

No you won't, says Belle. We'll all ride back to Saint Malo together. It will be lovely. 

We didn't think this through, says Arthur. Why didn't I stay in Saint Malo?

You'd have got bored, says Belle. 

It's true, Arthur would have. Instead...

Guess what? says Arthur to Terence.

What? says Terence.

I saw a flat crimson fronted parrot, says Arthur. When I was swimming.

Holy-moly! says Terence. Was it with a carrot?

No, says Arthur. 

Terence wails.

This means that Roo-kai was right. The carrot's box has decomposed.

Never mind Terence, says Belle. It was only a carrot. It's becoming one with the universe.

Terence imagines the carrot expanding.

What's Wrong With Eek?

Two people are cycling towards them 

Neither one of them is Arthur.

They get nearer.

Isn't that Jeanne Jugan? says Saint Méen.

With the yellow eyes? says Saint Maclou. It could only be Jeanne.

Terence remembers Jeanne Jugan from last time. So does Belle.

But not the yellow eyes.

Who's that with her? asks Saint Maclou. Her new boyfriend?

Ha ha! laughs Saint Méen. 

Hello Jeanne! says Belle.

Belle! says Jeanne Jugan. Isn't Arthur with you?

Not yet, says Belle. 

But we were behind him, says Jeanne Jugan. At least until Port-bail-sur-mer.

He must have stopped there, says Belle. But why were you following him? He wouldn't like that.

No, says Terence. He wouldn't.

He had an injury, says Jeanne Jugan.

So did I, says Pierre-Louis.

Oh sorry, says Jeanne Jugan. I haven't introduced you. This is Pierre-Louis Maupertuis. Pierre-Louis, this is Belle, and these are saints Méen and Maclou. And this is dear little Terence. Hello Terence, have you learned to read maps yet?

Yes, says Terence. And I've learned to read plasters.

He holds up his green plastered claw-finger.

This one says Argh!

Eek, says Belle. The orange ones say Argh.

Eek? says Terence. Get it off me!

What's wrong with Eek? asks Pierre-Louis Maupertuis. 

Eek is for scaredy-cats, says Terence.

The frogs snigger.

The famous frogs! says Jeanne Jugan. How exotic! And why the plasters? Did they split open? Which reminds me about Arthur. How can he be missing?

Yes how? says Belle. I texted him and told him to stay on the road.

Let's retrace our route, says Jeanne Jugan.

We can do that ourselves, says Saint Maclou. We're going that way. You are heading for Flamanville.

No, no! says Jeanne Jugan. Our main object in following Arthur was to meet you.

Us? says Saint Méen.

Not you, says Jeanne Jugan. Belle. And Pierre-Louis was also keen to meet her.

Indeed, Belle, says Pierre-Louis. I knew your father.

Maupertuis, says Belle. Hmm yes. You guys didn't get on well.

That was many moons ago, says Pierre-Louis. How is the old scribbler?

Would you mind if we kept going? asks Belle. I'm worried about Arthur.

Of course, says Jeanne Jugan. So am I.

They need not worry about Arthur. 

He has gone for a swim at Port-bail-sur-mer, having leaned his bike up against a tree

So Belle might see it.

He has even removed the front wheel, so no one can steal it.

The front wheel lies on the flat sand, along with Arthur's phone, and three sour apples, while Arthur swims far out to sea.

 

Coming Towards You

Nuclear power plant, says Saint Méen. There are two reactors in Flamanville.

And a third on the way, says Sain Maclou.

Although I hear there has been a delay, says Saint Méen.

Yikes! says Belle. Is that what set your haloes buzzing?

O yes, says Saint Maclou. It happens. But you needn't worry.

Of course not, says Saint Méen. We won't be here long.

Is that because we'll die? asks Terence.

No, says Saint Maclou. What gave you that idea?

We won't be here long, says Terence.

I meant we'll be leaving as soon as we meet Arthur, says Saint Méen.

But you said radi....ator, says Terence

....ation! says the knowlesi. And we're smaller!

Yes, we're smaller, says Quiet-tartus. We're already affected! I feel symptoms.

Me too, says the knowlesi.

What are they? asks Terence.

We're turning green, says the knowlesi.

Do you want to switch to green plasters? asks Terence. 

No thanks, says the knowlesi. But let's go!

We should wait for Arthur, says Belle.

NO! says Quiet-tartus. If we go towards him, we'll save him from coming here.

He would love it, says Belle. But I guess we don't need to tell him.

All this fuss, says Saint Méen. People who live here only receive .01 millirems of radiation per year.

Millirems, says Terence. What...

Don't ask me, says Saint Maclou. I read it somewhere.

Are we going or what? asks the knowlesi.

Okay, says Belle. I'll just send a message to Arthur.

She messages: Coming towards you. Stay on the road.

Arthur receives the message, but does not think of replying.

However, he stays on the road.

Soon he is approaching Port-bail-sur-mer.

A small village with dunes on one side and grazing grass on the other, all inhabitants receiving the .01 millirems per year. Should this change, the inhabitants will be receiving a letter, so there is no need to worry.

It is 37 ks from Flamanville to Portbail.

Arthur, Belle and the saints should meet up in fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes later.

They haven't.

Radiation What Radiation?

Belle returns, having found a pharmacy on Rte de Dielette.

Here, says Belle. These are kids' ones. 

She hands the packet to Saint Méen. 

The frogs will like these, says Saint Méen.

He opens the packet, pulls out a few plasters.

Choose your plaster, says Saint Méen.

Let me see! says Terence. They're my frogs, so I get to choose.

The plasters have monster faces and open mouths with alarmed ejaculations in speech bubbles.

Terence chooses a green one, going Eek!, and an orange one, going Argh!

What am I getting? mutters the knowlesi. 

The orange one, says Terence. What does it say?

Argh! says Belle. Cool, isn't it? It's what someone says when they get injured.

It's not what I say, says Terence.

Who cares what you say? says the knowlesi. Put it on me before it's too late.

Saint Méen starts unwrapping the plaster.

Give me the green one, says Saint Maclou. 

But first, Quiet-tartus wants to see it.

What colour am I? asks Quiet-tartus.

Light brown, says Saint Maclou. 

So why do I get a green one? asks Quiet-tartus.

Because I picked it, says Terence. And there's no light brown one.

But there's an orange one! says Quiet-tartus. 

I've got the orange one, says the knowlesi.

He sounds perky.

The knowlesi is cured!

 He stands up and hops gingerly.

Yes! Everything stays in!

There's another orange one in the packet, says Belle.

Let me have it, says Quiet-tartus. 

Okay, says Terence.

What a waste of the green one, says Saint Maclou.

I'll have it, says Terence. My claw's coming loose.

I doubt that, says Belle. It's stuck on with Gaius's fish glue.

It IS! says Terence, wiggling it hopefully.

Hold still, says Saint Maclou.

He wraps the green plaster around Terence 's claw (which once belonged to Baby-BB, the baby bristlebird).

Quiet-tartus stands up. Hops gently. 

Hops vigorously. 

Hops fast.

Excellent work, Maclou, says Saint Méen.

Likewise, Méen, says Saint Maclou. And none too soon! After all we're in Flamanville. I feel my halo buzzing.

Me too, says Saint Méen. It'll be the radiation.

Radiation? What radiation? asks Belle.