Where Is It Going ?

That's nice, said Pliny the Elder. Jesus now has a dog for a companion. Although I'm not sure I can suspend my disbelief to encompass its ability to speak.

Me neither, I said. But we must try. What do you think of the name?

Farquhar MacTaggart, said Pliny. A fine name. I believe it's the name of the first Earl of Ross.

Yes, I said. It's the English version of his name, which was Fearchar mac an t-sagairt. He rose from obscurity in the thirteenth century when he cut off the heads of the king's enemies and presented them as gifts to the king, and was then appointed a knight.

A fitting companion for Jesus, said Pliny.

Are you being sarcastic? I asked.

Certainly not, said Pliny. Jesus needs a foil. Perhaps the wisdom of Farquhar will help Jesus to write his article for Velosophy.

This is my story, I said, Not yours. But yes, that may be where it is going.

Well, why aren't you writing it? asked Pliny.

I'm taking a break. I'm going to Canberra until next Monday, I replied.

You didn't tell me, said Pliny. I hope you've left me something to eat.

Two pomegranates, I said. You can eat those.

Thank you, said Pliny. I see I shall be visiting the pie shop.

Bye then, I said.

Enjoy yourself, said Pliny.

Dogs Know What They Know

Jesus tried to explain to Belle et Bonne and Marie why Farquar was not a lovely name. They both laughed.

Maybe I'm losing my sense of humour, thought Jesus. Lighten up!

Just then Farquar bounded up, and began to lick Belle et Bonne's bare leg.

Hello doggy, hello feller, she said, bending down to give him a pat. What a darling puppy! Hello Farky!

Farky turned his attention to Jesus, latching on to the hem of his shorts.

Hey! said Jesus, trying to detach his new friend. Good boy! Good boy! Now, off you go back to your family.

No! said the dog. I'm staying with you!

Did you hear that? said Marie, astonished. That dog spoke to you.

Awesome! said Jesus. He bent down and addressed the dog.

Farquar, he said. Did you just say something to me?

The name's Farquhar, said Farquhar. Farquhar MacTaggart. I like you. So I'm going to stay with you.

But you belong to those people back there, said Jesus.

Farquhar MacTaggart decides who he belongs to, said Farquhar.

Why do you like me? asked Jesus.

You have an air of self doubt, said Farquhar MacTaggart.

Do I? asked Jesus, doubtfully.

QED, said Farquhar. I like that in a man.

You can't keep him, said Belle et Bonne. That would be stealing.

Stealing! barked Farquhar MacTaggart. Stealing! I'm not a piece of property!

Let's just go, said Jesus. And see what happens.

They left the beach and recovered their bicycles, Farquhar following behind.

Dont forget your sheet! barked Farquhar. It's over there on that bush.

How did you now it was mine? asked Jesus.

I'm a dog, said Farquhar.

Farquar!

The cycling holiday was nearly at an end. Marie, Belle et Bonne and Jesus retraced their route along the coast road. It was such a beautiful afternoon that they decided to stop riding for a while and take a walk on the beach.

Marie and Belle et Bonne walked ahead, while Jesus lagged behind. He was trying to think of what to write. It was true that he had begun to keep a diary last Easter, but he hadn't kept it up. In fact he'd only written in it twice. He remembered writing something about hoping someone would not be eaten by a shark.

Who was it?, he wondered.

Suddenly he heard a woman's voice calling urgently.

Farquar! Farquar! Farky!

A large brown dog bounded past.

What! thought Jesus. Surely no one would call their dog Farquar!

As he continued walking, the sounds of children's voices reached his ears.

Far-kar! Far-kar! shouted the children.

Unbelievable, said Jesus to himself. As if it isn't bad enough to call your dog Farquar in any case, to call your dog Farquar when you have young children unable to pronounce his name except as Far-kar has to be the height of irresponsibility.

He sped up to tell Marie, and Belle et Bonne.

Can you believe that dog back there's called Farquar? he asked them.

Oh, what a lovely name, said Belle et Bonne.

Positive Thoughts

Jesus broke the silence first.

Well, everybody farts, he said.

That's not the point, said Marie. Why did Zola give that character your name?

He had long hair, said Belle et Bonne.

But what was the subtext? pursued Marie.

To show what sort of people the villagers were, said Belle et Bonne. Their sense of humour and their attitude towards religion. And also, perhaps, to bring some lightness and humour into a grim story of rape, murder, greed and extortion.

I always wanted to write a novel, said Jesus.

Why don't you? asked Marie.

No literary talent, said Jesus.

But you tweet beautifully, said Belle et Bonne. And I bet you keep a diary.

I do, said Jesus. I started one last Easter.

How about writing something for Velosophy, said Marie. Something philosophical.

I don't know, said Jesus. I don't really have anything philosophical to say.

Yes you do, said Belle et Bonne. You have Do Unto Others.

Oh that, said Jesus modestly. It's just simple game theory really.

It is, agreed Marie. And it doesn't always work. Anyway, think about it. You don't have to be wise. The only thing Uncle Vello and David insist on is that whatever you write, there has to be a bicycle in it.

Wow! said Jesus. I know as much about bicycles as the next man. I might just have a go. You know, I feel really positive now. You girls are a tonic. Let's stop and have a chocolate break.

I thought you'd eaten it all, said Belle et Bonne.

I bought some more, said Jesus.

Easter Sunday Revelations

As we are lagging behind in real time we shall not bother about the literary conversation our cycling friends had on Good Friday. Instead, we shall fast forward to another literary conversation which developed the following day.

No, let us leave that one as well, and catch up with them today, when a third interesting literary conversation develops.

It is now Easter Sunday, and the cycling holiday is going well. The weather has fined up, and the coast road is rolling alond beside the coast in an exemplary manner. Belle et Bonne, Marie and Jesus are riding side by side, happily but illegally. They are talking about Kobo and Baby Pierre.

Do you remember, asked Marie, the name of that novel that Kobo was reading? The one that Baby Pierre used in his example of how it was best not to know the future?

Yes, said Jesus. It was The Earth by Emile Zola. I meant to get it from the library. I wanted to find out what happened to poor Francoise.

Me too, said Marie. I just wondered if you'd read it.

I have! said Belle et Bonne. I love Zola. But I wouldn't recommend that YOU read it, she added, looking at Jesus. There's someone in it you might not like.

Me? said Jesus, surprised. Why not?

Well, said Belle et Bonne, there's a character in it called Jesus Christ, but he's not meant to be you.

That wouldn't bother me, said Jesus. What's he like?

He's a lazy reprobate and a thief, said Belle et Bonne, and worst of all....oh no, I don't want to tell you.

What? said Marie. You have to tell us now!

Yes, you have to, said Jesus.

Alright, said Belle et Bonne. You asked for it. He farts all the time, on purpose, and for fun, to amuse his friends and his daughter.

Marie and Jesus were silent for a moment, digesting this.

The Shroud of Turin

Jesus woke up on Good Friday. Something was stuck to his face. He pulled it off. It was the sheet that he'd wrapped himself up in to try and keep warm during the night.

Ugh, he said, disentangling himself. It's covered in chocolate. He held it up for Marie and Belle et Bonne to see.

Belle et Bonne and Marie doubled up with laughter.

What's so funny, asked Jesus?

It looks like the shroud of Turin, said Marie. There's your face on the cloth, and two big brown handprints. That'll teach you to eat chocolate in bed.

Never mind that now, said Jesus. How am I going to get it off?

Wash it in the sea, said Belle et Bonne.

So they waited while Jesus went down to the sea and washed his sheet in the cold salty water.

Belle et Bonne looked at Marie.

Jesus! she said.

Mmm, said Marie. This isn't his day.

Jesus came back with his wet sheet dripping.

Now how am I going to get it dry? he asked grumpily.

I suppose you'll have to drape it over a bush and hope the sun comes out, said Marie.
What a way to spend the morning!

I'll just leave it here, said Jesus. I wouldn't want to hold everyone up. I'll pick it up on the way back.

So they headed off down the coast road, looking for somewhere to have breakfast.

As they rode three abreast, an interesting literary conversation developed.

Good Friday

You've brought far too much chocolate, said Marie. And I don't see a sleeping bag. What are you going to do if we decide to camp out?

Don't worry about me, said Jesus. I've got this sheet.

And he pulled a grubby white sheet from the bottom of his pack.

That won't keep you very warm, said Marie.

Never mind, said Jesus. Have a chocolate.

No thanks. said Marie. No chocolate till Sunday.

What? said Jesus.

Don't you know the rule? aked Belle et Bonne.

No, this is the first I've heard of it, said Jesus.

I thought you of all people would know that rule, said Belle et Bonne. You surprise me. You don't seem very religious.

Religious! Why should I be religious? scoffed Jesus.

Yes Belle, said Marie. Jesus doesn't need to be religious. And neither are we religious, she added.

Then you ought to have a chocolate, said Jesus.

No thanks, said Marie. There are other reasons not to eat chocolate.

They cycled all afternoon along the coast road beside the wind-tossed sea. They bought pizzas for dinner and ate them under a pine tree.

Let's sleep under this tree tonight, said Belle et Bonne. It doesn't look like it'll rain.

Alright, said Marie, and Jesus agreed.

They lay side by side looking up at the clouds and the stars through the pine branches, Jesus in the middle because he was cold.

Jesus got out his Blackberry. The clouds look like blue white and black chrysanthemums, he said.

Are you tweeting that? asked Belle et Bonne.

Yes, replied Jesus.

It's nice, said Marie. Goodnight.

Goodnight, said Jesus, pulling out another block of chocolate.

To keep me warm, he said.

Sure, said Belle et Bonne. Goodnight Jesus. Sleep well. Good Friday tomorrow.

See if I care, said Jesus.