His Phew

It's actually not very nice, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

It's better than nice, says Terence. He was the boldest among us.

Yes but the last line undermines his reputation, says Alexander-Red-Hook. "His deeds were few".

But it's true, says Alexander-Groovy. A eulogy should be truthful.

But not negative, says Alexander-Curly.

The small fish (unlucky) decides to venture an opinion.

It needs one more verse, says the small fish (unlucky).

What would be in it? asks Terence.

His few, says the small fish (unlucky).

His phew? says Terence. That would be a rubbish ending!

Did you mean his few deeds? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

I did, says the small fish (unlucky). He must have done some or they wouldn't be mentioned.

He didn't really do ANY, says Alexander-Groovy. None to speak of.

But you said it had to be true, says Terence. And it wasn't. So you're banned from doing the eulogy. I'll do it.

Terence thinks for a moment.

He remember his dog one.

My dog has died
I buried him in the garden
He's not going anywhere.

He recites it.

That's about a DOG, says Alexander-Groovy.

Dog equals crab, says Terence.

His name should be in it, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Put it in then, says Terence.

Did you have a dog? asks the small fish (unlucky)

What do you think? asks Terence.

Yes, says the small fish (unlucky). What was it's name?

Good question for the wrong answer, says Terence.

Meaning? asks the small fish (unlucky).

I didn't have one, says Terence.

So why write the poem? asks the small fish (unlucky).

Someone else had one, says Terence.

What was IT'S name? asks the small fish (unlucky).

It's persistent, this small fish (unlucky).

What's YOUR name? asks Terence.

I don't have one, says the small fish (unlucky).

Is that why you're sad? asks Terence.

Alexander-Red-Hook takes pity.

Small fish, says Alexander-Red-Hook. You must have seen a few crab deeds as you darted about in the ocean.

O yes, says the small fish (unlucky).

Sharp Thin And Celestial Blue

Kierkegaard feels in his pockets again.

Nothing. No, wait! It's still there.

As if it could fall through a hole made by bamboo sticks!

Found it? asks Lauren.

Yes, says Kierkegaard. It's here.

Lauren makes a mental note to find out what it is.

The door opens. Belle and Marie have arrived with the pizzas.

Six large ones.

Clear the table, says Belle.

That means you crabs, and you fish, says Terence.

Meaning us? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

Are you deaf? says Terence.

We crabs need a quiet place, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Why? asks Terence.

Hurry up! says Marie. Clear the table.

I'm doing it, says Terence.

But he isn't.

First he needs to find somewhere to put them.

This is a shop. There are knick knacks.

There are shelves that keep knick knacks in place.

There are gaps, between some of the knick knacks.

If he shoves the knick knacks along there'll be space on that shelf.

Easy peasy.

He transfers the crabs, the fish ( unlucky) and lastly the pickle jar containing Alexander-Yellowsun to the shelf.

Happy? says Terence.

They all look happy except for the fish (unlucky) whose mouth is still turned down in sadness,

So why did you need somewhere quiet? asks Terence.

We're composing a eulogy for Alexander-Retro, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

I'm doing it, says Alexander-Groovy, because he asked me.

We're all doing it, says Alexander-Curly.

But I'm the main one, says Alexander-Groovy.

Have you started? asks Terence.

Potentially, finished says Alexander-Groovy. Listen:

Alexander-Retro
The boldest among us
Lies in a bin
Near the general store
Pierced by glass shards
Sharp and thin
And celestial blue.
Alexander-Retro
The boldest among us
Though his deeds were few.

Woo! says Terence. That's the best poem ever!

But Alexander-Red-Hook, Alexander-Curly and the little fish (unlucky) have heard better.

Something Precious In One

No pizzas yet? says Sweezus.

Not yet, you've time for a shower, says Lauren.

Sweezus disappears out the back.

Lauren looks at the drips on the floor where Arthur is standing.

This has no effect on Arthur.

He continues to drip.

Hello, Arthur, says Kierkegaard.

My old shorts, says Arthur. Where were they?

Gaius lent them to me, says Kierkegaard. I hope you don't mind.

They were good shorts, says Arthur.

They still are, says Kierkegaard. Belle helped me get the stains out.

It wasn't the stains that stopped them being good, says Arthur.

Oh? says Kierkegaard. What was it?

Can't remember, says Arthur. Could have been holes.

Kierkgaard is sure that if there had been holes in the skull shorts, Belle would have found them, and said.

Nevertheless he checks the back, the zip and the pockets.

Look, says Terence, pointing at the jam jar on the table. My fish is surrounded!

By three crabs in a semi circle? asks Lauren.

We've got four, says Terence. But one's in a pickle jar.

Gaius produces the pickle jar, in which Alexander-Yellowsun floats amongst the dill and the traces of poetry.

The three crabs shuffle into different positions.

Now Terence's fish (unlucky) is surrounded by crabs. But one is a DEAD ONE!

Now it's sad, says Terence.

How can you tell? asks Gaius.

Its mouth is turned down, says Terence.

Gaius is too kind to point out that its mouth was turned down before.

Sweezus comes back in dry clothes but with wet hair still dripping.

Lauren looks at the drips on the floor.

This has no effect on Sweezus.

Still no pizzas? asks Sweezus.

Ah! says Kierkegaard.

What is it? asks Lauren.

Holes in both pockets, says Kierkegaard.

Lucky nothing was in them, says Lauren.

Now I remember, says Arthur. That's how I lost my bamboo sticks.

But Kierkegaard isn't concerned about Arthur's bamboo sticks.

There WAS something precious in one of the pockets.

No Lid No Problem

Gaius and Terence arrive at the shop with the bucket.

Lauren lets them in.

Gaius places the bucket on the table.

Terence has caught a fish, says Gaius.

Let's see, says Lauren. Oh, it's a small one.

The small fish (unlucky) stops swimming and looks at her face.

Tries to read her expression.

But can't.

We need something to put it in, says Gaius,

It wants to meet the crabs, says Terence.

How do you know that? asks Kierkegaard. Did it say so?

No, says Terence.

They might eat it, says Kierkegaard.

I heard that, says Alexander-Red-Hook. If it wants to meet us, it must have a reason. We won't eat it.

See, says Terence.

Put it in this, says Lauren.

She empties a jam jar filled with strings and laces onto the table.

It will need water, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Gaius tips the smallest amount of water he thinks the fish (unlucky) can survive in, from the bucket into the jam jar.

Let me put the fish in, says Terence.

It's already in, says Gaius. It flowed in with the water

Let me talk to it, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

How will you do that? asks Gaius. It's now in a jam jar.

I'm sure it could hear through a jam jar, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Leave the lid off.

There isn't a lid, says Lauren.

No lid. No problem.

Little fish, says Alexander-Red-Hook, I hear you wanted to meet us.

The fish (unlucky) makes a decision.

Yes, says the fish (unlucky). I wanted to meet you. I know you are grieving.

I've finished grieving, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

So have I, says the fish (unlucky).

What for? asks Alexander-Red-Hook.

Myself, says the little fish (unlucky). I thought my life was over, but it isn't. Sea, bucket, jam jar.

My friend's in a pickle jar, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Alive? asks the small fish (unlucky).

Luckily, before Alexander-Red-Hook can answer, Sweezus and Arthur come in.

Kierkegaard remembers that he's wearing Arthur's old purple skull shorts.

Should he mention it first, or just wait?

Only The Sky

This is all I've got, says Terence.

He sets the bucket upright on the sand.

The transparent small fish (unlucky) swims around in circles.

You've caught a fish! says Gaius. Well done. I've never been able to catch such a small one.

Can we keep it? asks Terence.

Temporarily, says Gaius. But we need more sea water. And we don't need that sea grass, or sand.

I'll SCOOP it out, says Terence.

He scoops out the seagrass, that's easy.

He scoops out some sand.

He drops it in blobs next to Gaius's feet, not his actual feet, but his Crocs.

Wait, says Gaius. There are tiny beads in it. Are they plastic?

How do I know? asks Terence.

Gaius picks up a bead.

It could be wood or plastic, says Gaius. They can do wonderful things nowadays. But if it's wood the sand in the bucket has to go. I can't risk the crabs ingesting the wrong contaminant.

What about my FISH! wails Terence.

He or she may ingest what he or she likes, says Gaius.

Hear that? says Terence.

The transparent fish (unlucky) heard that. Ingest? What does that mean?

It swimming becomes frantic.

Can I take it back to the shop? asks Terence. It wants to meet the crabs.

All right, says Gaius. I'll just top up the water, we'll sort the sand out later, when we've dealt with the fish.

He scoops handfuls of water into the bucket until he has filled it.

The fish (unlucky) glimpses freedom.

So it thinks.

But it's only the sky.

Preventable Contaminations

Gaius is down on the beach, looking for small pieces of plastic.

If he finds any, they will have to go in his pocket,

Drat! Why did he not think ahead, and bring a container?

He picks up a black plastic straw, and an old piece of goggle strap, which could well be rubber.

Of course! Terence has a bucket!

He scans the beach. Yes, there is Terence, not too far away, with the bucket.

He walks along the beach towards Terence.

Two surfers ride in on a middling wave.

The wave dwindles to nothing.

They dismount, and stand in the shallows.

They spot Gaius.

Gaius! says Sweezus. Didn't know you were coming! Experiment over?

No, says Gaius. We've relocated. But there have been several glitches.

Too bad, says Sweezus. Maybe Arthur'll help.

I thought Kierkegaard was helping, says Arthur.

He is, says Gaius. He's in Lauren's shop, with the three remaining crabs, who are grieving.

Only three left? says Arthur.

Hum, says Gaius. Long story. Can't be helped though. I'm just chasing up Terence.

He's over there, says Sweezus. We're meant to be keeping an eye on him, while Belle and Marie get the pizzas.

I see you were taking it seriously, says Gaius.

He's a cool little dude, says Sweezus. He knows not to go in past his ankles.

He has a bucket, says Gaius. His task is to fill it with water.

Yeah, says Sweezus. So, now that you're here, Arthur and me'll just catch a couple more waves, then we'll call it it for this arvo.

Certainly, says Gaius. Will we all be eating together?

Yeah, why wouldn't we, says Sweezus.

Lauren has dots on her floor, says Gaius.

She's got everything, says Sweezus. Even face masks.

Well then, says Gaius. See you up there.

The surfers head back to the ocean.

Gaius continues to where Terence is dragging his bucket along on a string.

It's the string of the beaded string necklace.

The beads are in the bottom of the bucket.

Tiny beads, mixed with sand.

The bucket is horizontal.

So from left to right, it looks like this:

Terence, string, wire handle, bucket, low level of seawater, three strips of brown sea grass, one small transparent fish (unlucky), sand, little wooden beads mixed in it.

Yes, wooden. Lauren would not sell a necklace made with beads that were plastic.

(not that she ever sold that one)

Promising Less

Gaius is rummaging through his back pack.

Where is that small plastic bag?

What have you lost, Gaius? asks Lauren.

The microplastics, says Gaius. I was certain I packed them.

Never mind, says Lauren. You'll find more on the beach. Why don't you go down there?

Humph, says Gaius. I suppose I shall have to.

He goes.

Kierkegaard is now alone in the shop with Lauren, except for the crabs, who are getting on with their grieving.

This dear friend of yours...., says Kierkegaard.

Yes, says Lauren. What a man. I'll never forget him.

He spoke to you about me? says Kierkegaard.

Mmm, says Lauren. He had the FIERCEST moustache.

So it was Nietzsche? asks Kierkegaard.

Friedrich I called him, says Lauren. I healed him of board rash.

Due to surfing? asks Kierkegaard.

Yes, surfing, says Lauren. He was new to it, but he picked it up fast.

Doubtless, says Kierkegaard.

He borrowed my son's shorts, says Lauren. He had to.

If Kierkegaard asks why, she won't tell him.

He doesn't ask why.

You discussed philosophy? asks Kierkegaard.

Often, says Lauren. He was deeply interested in Reiki.

Kierkegaard is sceptical, but he doesn't let on.

And did it seem to you that he had read me? asks Kierkegaard.

Oh yes, says Lauren. He had one of those potted books on famous philosophers. You were in it.

What did he say about me? asks Kierkegaard.

That you ought to read him, says Lauren.

I have read him, but he wasn't to know that, says Kierkegaard,

Have you got the same book? asks Lauren.

Probably not, says Kierkegaard. Tell me, did he say anything specific?

God is dead, says Lauren. Sorry to have to say it.

Not at all, says Kierkegaard. But I meant, anything specific about ME.

He did say that was where you differed, says Lauren.

Anything positive? asks Kierkegaard.

Not that I remember, says Lauren.

Do try, says Kierkegaard.

You remind me a little of him, says Lauren.

This could be promising.

Those purple skull shorts, says Lauren. I feel I've seen them before.

This is less so.