Blu Tack, Useful but Dangerous

Irma and Emma's mum comes over from the campsite with two mugs of tea.

Tea, anyone? she says.

No thanks, dear, says dad.

Mum, says Irma, Lavender's upset.

Lavender? says mum. Who's Lavender?

Here, says Irma, pointing at red tear-stained Lavender on the drying table, next to bits of dried mud.

What happened? asks mum.

Her insides fell out, explains Irma.

That's not what happened, says Lavender, sniffing.

I see exactly what happened, says mum. Hold this tea, Arthur, I'll be back in a tick with some Blu Tack.

She leaves Arthur holding the two mugs of tea and goes over to the family Jeep. She comes back in a tick with the Blu Tack.

Now, Lavender, she says, just hold still.

She presses a small piece of Blu Tack into Lavender's space, and then eases it out.

Here's your insides for you, Lavender, says mum. And beautiful insides they are.

Lavender looks at the Blu Tack. It looks like a raised auger shell on a pebble, the reverse image of her.

Happy? says mum.

NO! wails Lavender. It's in danger.

What do you mean? asks mum. In danger of what?

Squashing, says Lavender.

Don't worry, says mum. We'll put it in a box. Now Arthur, do you want one of those teas?

No thank you, says Arthur.

Perhaps your friend over there? says mum.

He's no friend of mine, says Arthur.

Arthur! says mum. That sounded rude and dismissive!

But mum, says Emma, it's Monsieur Verlaine.

Oh, I see, says mum. I remember Monsieur Verlaine from before, at the caravan park. He disrupted the paddy melon bowls. He kicked them all out of the ring in a terrible temper. He must be under some sort of domestic pressure, or have employment issues. I'll take him a mug of tea.

She walks over to Paul Verlaine's Jeep, and taps on the window.

The window rolls down.

The Existence of Others

Lavender thinks she must be in the Willoughby. If she is, someone should notice her soon.

The pebbles are agitated and discomposed.

Uh, uh, says Lavender in their general direction. Who's laughing now?

In a few minutes more, everyone is tipped out onto a table.

Lavender sees Irma's face looking down from above.

Is that you Lavender? says Irma. No, sorry, it's not.

Yes it is, says Lavender. Why is it not?

Because you look different, says Irma. Look at this, dad.

Irma's dad peers at Lavender.

I'm sorry? says Irma's dad. What am I looking at?

Oh, you didn't see her before, said Irma. Look at Lavender, Arthur. Look, Emma.

Emma and Arthur look at Lavender.

She is stained dirty red and her shell shape is filled with red mud.

You look really different, says Emma. But don't worry. We can give you a scrub.

I don't want a scrub, just let me get dry, says Lavender tearfully.

Stop crying then, says Arthur.

He sets Lavender down in the sun.

Her mud dries in minutes.

She feels crackly and tight.

Now, says Arthur, we'll get rid of that mud.

He holds Lavender upside down and taps her sharply on the table, until the dried mud drops out.

Oh look! says Emma. A dried mud shell shape.

She picks it up.

It crumbles to bits.

That was me, says Lavender.

Not really, says Arthur. It just looked like you.

It was me, says Lavender. It was more me than anything else, and it's broken.

Arthur, Irma, Emma and dad look at the broken dried bits of mud that once had been more Lavender than anything else.

They are all thinking the same thing.

Existence is complicated.

The Disadvantage of Using A Willoughby

The First Terrible Thing was: Lavender overbalanced, and fell into the bucket of stones.

But was it so terrible? Surely all Lavender had to do was call out to Irma for help.

She was about to do that when the Second Terrible Thing happened.

The Second Terrible Thing was: Arthur dumped a full spade of dirt and stones on top of her, not realising she was there.

But was that so terrible? Surely Irma knew Lavender had fallen into the bucket.

She would have, but for the Third Terrible Thing.

Irma's dad shouted, Irma!

Irma's attention was diverted.

Irma turned towards her dad. (This was when Lavender was falling into the bucket).

What, dad? called Irma. (This was when Arthur was burying Lavender inadvertently).

Come over here a minute! said Irma's dad.

Irma went  over to her dad, thinking he may have found a zircon.

.........

Lavender is buried under a layer of dirt and stones.

She can't breathe.

Luckily, she doesn't need to.

She looks around.

Dirt, stones, pebbles.

Some of the pebbles are jostling her.

Uh, uh, say the pebbles.

It's their way of mocking.

It's not funny, says Lavender.

Uh, uh.

Lavender wonders why, if she is an augur, she didn't know this was going to happen.

Lavender has an existential thought.

If she is just an empty space in a stone, might she not just as well be elsewhere?

She looks down at herself.

Her empty space is filled with dirt, there is no chance of moving.

She will have to remain where she is.

Uh, uh.

Suddenly, the bucket is lifted into the air. The contents, including Lavender and the mocking pebbles, are tipped into a sieve. The sieve is plunged into a Willoughby, and moved up and down in the water.

Lavender feels the dirt in her space turn to mud.

Advantages of Using a Willoughby

Arthur turned.

It was Irma. And Emma, her twin.

Hi Arthur! said Irma. We're camping next to Sonny's Dunny, with our mum and dad. Dad's dug down to the washline. That's where you find the right stones.

And we've got a Willoughby, said Emma.

Have you? said Arthur. What's that?

It's this cool water sieve, said.Emma. You move the sieve up and down in a bucket of water, using a vertical pivot and a horizontal arm.

That sounds very useful, said Arthur. But right now we have nothing to sieve.

Come back with us! said Irma. Just you, Arthur, not him, she added, indicating Paul Verlaine.

Paul looked daggers at Irma, and went to sit in his Jeep. He poured himself a large absinthe and sugar, which he had brought in a flask, and took out his O Arthur notes.

Arthur and Lavender walked over to Sonny's Dunny with the twins, and the bucket.

Now we're sure to find a zircon, said Lavender.

Oh yes, said Emma, you are. And zircons are so lovely. They can be orange, brown, pink, purple or yellow, and some of them are even multi-coloured.

Wow, breathed Lavender. How magical!

Yeah, said Irma, and you can find other things too. Agate, jasper, tourmaline, garnets, even gold nuggets sometimes.

Get digging Arthur, said Lavender. You might find some of those.

Arthur got digging with Irma and Emma's dad's spade.

Soon the bucket was half full of dirt, pebbles and stones.

Lavender was excited. She wanted to look at the stones, but she couldn't see into the bucket.

She climbed up a dirt heap and tried to look down into the bucket.

What are you doing? asked Irma.

I want to see, said Lavender.

I'll help you, said Irma.

She picked Lavender up and balanced her on the rim of the bucket.

Ooh! said Lavender. Ahh.

And then something terrible happened.

Followed almost immediately by another terrible thing.

The Proper Equipment

Paul Verlaine walked over to his Jeep and came back with a scraping tool.

That's not a knife, said Arthur, looking at the scraping tool.

No, but this is! said Paul, whipping out a knife that had been concealed in his pocket.

Goody! said Lavender. Give it to Arthur.

Shall I give it to you, Arthur?  asked Paul, sharply. Do you want it?

He thrust the pointy end of the knife towards Arthur.

No, said Arthur. Give me the scraping tool.

He took the scraping tool and began scraping the hard red dirt.

You'll find nothing, said Paul. Like me.

Use your knife said Lavender. You'll find something. I see the future. I know.

Do you see Arthur's future? asked Paul.

He'll find a zircon, said Lavender.

I see Arthur's future, said Paul Verlaine darkly.

No you don't, said Arthur.

Have you changed? asked Paul. Tell me how.

I don't know how, said Arthur. It isn't like me to help people. Natural historians, stones, lobsters. They don't need help. I slope off but I don't get away. Look at me now. Here I am scraping dirt in the outback, when I'm meant to be learning to surf. Someone's rewriting my life.

Not necessarily, said Paul. Come back to me.

No, said Arthur. We're finished. I'm not writing poems any more.

I am, said Paul. Arthur, O Arthur.....

That's not very good, said Arthur.

I know that, said Paul. What's going to happen to me?

You'll find a zircon, said Lavender.

Arthur will find a zircon, said Paul.

Two zircons, said Lavender. One zircon each. Now dig!

Paul and Arthur bent over and scratched in the dirt.

You'll never find anything digging like that! said a voice, behind them. You need to dig down to the washline!
And you don't have a Willoughby! Geez!

Designated Fossicking Land

Arthur cycled down the road till he came to the broken windmill and tank, turned right down the gravel track, and rode till he came to a gate that led to the Designated Fossicking Land.

Here will do, said Arthur to Lavender. Get down.

He helped Lavender down.

Now what? asked Lavender.

Pick up stones, said Arthur. Put them in the bucket.

I can't do it, said Lavender. I'm too little.

You'll just have to watch me, said Arthur. If I find a zircon, I'll give it to you.

He started picking up stones, but immediately saw that they had already been picked over.

You should have brought the knife, said Lavender. Then you could dig.

A Jeep pulled up behind them.

Paul Verlaine got out.

Paul Verlaine! exclaimed Arthur. It's you! What's happened to your hair?

Lost it all, said Paul Verlaine. I blame you.

Hardly, said Arthur. You were always tearing it out.

And why was that? said Paul, his voice rising. You left me!

You shot me in the wrist, said Arthur. Remember? And my mother had to come and take me home.

You provoked it, said Paul.

Stop fighting, said Lavender.

Who is this? asked Paul Verlaine.

Lavender, said Arthur. We're fossicking. But we don't have a knife.

I have a knife, said Paul, menacingly.

Did you say that menacingly? asked Arthur derisively.

Did you say that derisively? snapped Paul.

They glared at one another.

Arthur, said Lavender. Don't you get it? He's going to lend us his knife.

Absinthe and Sugar

Paul Verlaine was in his cabin sulking. He was on his third glass of absinthe and sugar. The green fairy had him in her power.

Mathilde had only had one glass of absinthe. She put down her glass and looked out of the window, at the door to the manager's office.

She saw Arthur ride up and stop.

I'm just going out for some milk, she told Paul. Please don't drink any more while I'm gone.

Armrrr, growled Paul. Arrmmmrrrr.

He picked up a pen and tried to smooth out a piece of crumpled notepaper on which he had been attempting a poem.

Arthur, O, Arthur, went the poem.

It was not yet a very good poem.

Mathilde arrived at the door of the office and listened.

Arthur was being handed a bucket. He took it, and turned. It was certainly him.

He.

Mathilde ducked behind the door, as Arthur came out with the bucket.

Guess what? said Arthur, to the wire basket on the back of his bike.

What? asked the wire basket, or so it seemed to Mathilde.

We're going fosseeking! said Arthur. For free!

Yippee! said the wire basket happily.

Arthur rode off down the track.

I must give up drinking absinthe, said Mathilde. I'm starting to hear things after only one glass.

She walked back to the cabin.

Paul Verlaine was not there.

Which was, in a way, lucky, because she'd forgotten the milk.