Ask The Echinoid

Maybe it was light brown, says Baby Pierre.

Lucky you've got a rubber, says the tinker.

I haven't written what kind of brown yet, says Baby Pierre. I only wrote brown.

It's good to decide what you're going to write before you write it, says Rosa.

I'm deciding right now, says Baby Pierre.

He decides.

Then starts to write (very small): 

It was light brown and Ouvert said it might be a petrified poo, but I said petrified poos aren't light brown and he believed me, then I asked him if he had a geology hammer and he said he did have one somewhere, but what did I want to use it for and I said to crack the rock open.

Wow! says Rosa. This is getting exciting. 

Do you think so? asks the tinker.

Yes, if they find something cool inside the sandstone, says Rosa.

Like what? asks the tinker.

It's up to Baby Pierre, says Rosa. He's writing the story.

What are they going to find in it? asks the tinker.

I'm still thinking, says Baby Pierre. It might be a fossil.

Yes! says Rosa. What about an echinoid! We learned about them in school.

Baby Pierre likes the word echinoid, but isn't sure he can spell it. What if he gets it wrong?

But no. He's a free thinker.

He writes (very small):

Ouvert got out his geology hammer and smashed the rock open to reveal a small eckynoid.

That's not how you spell it, says Rosa. It's e-c-h-i. Use the rubber.

No, says Baby Pierre. I've got this. 

He writes some more words (very small): 

I'd never heard of an echynoid, so I asked Ouvert to spell it, and he spelled it, but his spelling is bad. I asked him if he was sure and he said if you don't believe me ask the echynoid, and I thought he was joking but I asked it anyway and it said ECHI! I was really surprised.

Isnt it a fossil? asks the tinker. 

Yes, says Rosa. A sea urchin fossil.

How could a fossil say ECHI? asks the tinker.

This is my story, says Baby Pierre. If I say it said ECHI, it said ECHI.

What did it sound like? asks the tinker.

It's a trick question.

A Pebble With Great Eyesight

Rosa takes ages to find him a rubber, so Baby Pierre keeps on writing (very small):

I knew you were slow-witted, I said to Ouvert, it's meteorites you should be looking for, and he said sorry, he meant meteorites.

That's good says the tinker, reading what Baby Pierre has written. Now you don't need a rubber.

Why not? asks Baby Pierre.

What were you going to rub out? asks the tinker.

Meteor, says Baby Pierre.

But if you do that, you don't need the new sentence, says the tinker.

Baby Pierre looks back at his previous sentence.

The one where Ouvert says he is looking for meteors.

If he changers meteors to meteorites, it's true, he doesn't need the new sentence. 

But he likes the new sentence. It makes Ouvert look bad.

Rosa opens the lid of the see-through container, and drops in a rubber.

Here's the rubber, says Rosa. Don't lose it. 

How would I lose it? asks Baby Pierre. I'm in a container.

He doesn't need it, says the tinker. He's written a new sentence.

Let me see, says Rosa.

She reads it.

That's clever, says Rosa. But it does make your cousin look bad.

Baby Pierre doesn't care, says the tinker. But maybe he should keep the rubber.

Yes, keep it for now, says Rosa. You might spell something wrong.

Prrrrt! says Baby Pierre. 

What happens next? asks Rosa. Does Ouvert find a meteorite?

No, says Baby Pierre. He doesn't. But maybe I do.

That would annoy Ouvert, says Rosa. Maybe you should both find lots of great rocks and give them to a museum.

Baby Pierre is inspired. He starts writing again (very small):

I said I would help him because I have great eyesight and he doesn't. As soon as I started looking I found one, it was shiny and black.

Was it bigger than you? asks Rosa. That might be a problem.

Ha ha, laughs the tinker.

Stop laughing, says Baby Pierre. 

He writes (very small):

It was small but very heavy, so I let Ouvert carry it in his rock sample bag, while I rode on ahead scouting for samples. I soon found another one, which was brown.

Was it light brown? asks Rosa. It might have been limestone, the Nullarbor used to be a seabed.

No, says Baby Pierre. It was dark brown like chocolate.

A meteorite then, says Rosa.

Or a petrified poo, says the tinker.

Rubbing Out Meteors

Rosa lifts the lid of the see-through container.

How's the story going? asks Rosa.

Good, says Baby Pierre. 

Is it finished? asks Rosa.

No way, says Baby Pierre. I'm up to the part where my cousin Ouvert tells his story.

But he's stuck, says the Kroombit tinker.

Why don't you help him? asks Rosa.

I don't know Ouvert, says the tinker.

It it a true story? asks Rosa.

No, says the tinker. None of it happened.

It's still hard, says Baby Pierre. I have to explain why my cousin would be riding a bike across the Nullabor. 

Ouvert should do that, says the tinker.

Same thing, says Baby Pierre.

I can think of a reason, says Rosa.

What is it? asks Baby Pierre.

He's looking for rock specimans, says Rosa. Because he's a rock expert.

He isn't a rock expert, says Baby Pierre. 

I thought you were making it up? says Rosa.

Yes, says the tinker. The imaginary Ouvert could be an expert in rocks.

Okay, says Baby Pierre. I'll try it.

He writes (very small):

You probably didn't know I'm an expert in rocks, says my cousin Ouvert, and I say no I didn't, I always thought you were slow-witted. That's where you're wrong, says Ouvert, I'm looking for meteors. Have you found any? I ask but he admits that he hasn't.

Rosa has pretty good eyesight. She reads what Baby Pierre has written.

He's probably looking for meteorites, not meteors, says Rosa.

How would you know? asks Baby Pierre.

Is he looking up at the sky or down at the ground? asks Rosa. Meteors are like fireballs and meteorites are like rocks, and he's a rock expert so he'll be looking for meteorites.

Okay, says Baby Pierre. Do you have a rubber?

Pebble Across The Nullarbor

Baby Pierre starts to write (very small):

Pebble Across The Nullarbor.

Why am I doing this I think to myself as I pedal along the hard road and I'm only half way when who should I see but another pebble?

He stops writing.

Why did you stop writing? asks the Kroombit tinker.

I'm stuck, says Baby Pierre. I'm at the part where I meet another pebble.

That was quick, says the tinker.

It was your idea to start in the middle, says Baby Pierre.

Oh yes, says the tinker. Is the other pebble going the same way as you?

I haven't decided. What do you think? asks Baby Pierre.

The same way, says the tinker. Then you can talk as you go. Otherwise you'd have to stop or go backwards.

Good thinking, says Baby Pierre.

He writes:

The other pebble is going the same way and I catch up quickly because I'm a fast rider and he isn't.

So it's a boy pebble, says the tinker.

Yes, says Baby Pierre. It's my cousin.

What a coincidence, says the tinker. Why choose your cousin?

Why not? asks Baby Pierre. At least I know him.

What's his name? asks the tinker.

Ouvert, says Baby Pierre.

And why is he riding a bicycle across the Nullarbor? asks the tinker.

I'm about to ask him, says Baby Pierre.

He writes a bit more:

Ouvert! I cried, what are you doing out here in the Nullarbor? I could ask the same of you, replies my cousin, let's ride together and tell each other our stories.

Oh that's good, says the tinker. Now you'll be telling two stories. 

Two stories! Baby Pierre is surprised it's so easy.

He continues writing:

I tell my cousin how I came to be here. That I was in the Tour de France and the Vuelta, and I won all the time trials.

I won some of them, says the tinker.

This is my story, says Baby Pierre.

Aren't I in it? says the tinker.

No, says Baby Pierre. 

So how did you end up in Perth? asks the tinker.

Ben O'Connor invited me, says Baby Pierre.

That's a good story, says the tinker. And what about your cousin?

Let me think, says Baby Pierre. 

Why would dumb old Ouvert be riding a bike across the Nullarbor?

Knowing him, he was probably lost.

He Always Writes Small

Baby Pierre has to admit that the pencil did not put his eye out.

The see-through lid opens again.

Here's some paper, says Rosa. 

Thank you, says the Kroombit tinker. 

What do you want it for? asks Rosa.

Baby Pierre wants it, says the tinker.

Is that the name of the pebble? asks Rosa.

Yes, says Baby Pierre. And before you get any ideas, I'm not a baby.

I know rocks are old, says Rosa. What are you going to do with the paper?

It was Kroomy's idea, says Baby Pierre.

To be fair, says the tinker. Because I was given dead flies.

Are they your dinner? asks Rosa.

Yes, says the tinker. And Baby Pierre wanted something, but he doesn't eat dinner.

Of course not, says Rosa. Is he going to draw pictures?

There's nothing to draw, says Baby Pierre. 

I could take you out of the container, says Rosa.

That's unfair to me, says the tinker.

Don't worry, says Baby Pierre. I'm not drawing pictures. I'm going to write something.

Like a story? asks Rosa.

Yes, like a story, says Baby Pierre. It'll be the story of me riding my bicycle from Perth to Adelaide across the Nullarbor, which is what I'm supposed to be doing.

You're GLAD you're not doing it, says the tinker.

If I was, why would I want to write the story? says Baby Pierre.

He must have wanted to, says Rosa. But it's a really long way.

That's the point of the story, says Baby Pierre.

Do you want an extra piece of paper? asks Rosa.

No, I always write small, says Baby Pierre. Now close the lid and let me get started.

Okay, says Rosa. Can I read it when it's finished?

Sure, says Baby Pierre.

Rosa shuts the lid of the see-through container.

Right! says Baby Pierre. Now I just have to think how to start it.

Sometimes it's good to start in the middle, says the tinker.

The middle of the Nullarbor? says Baby Pierre. How would that work?

You're riding along, and you meet another pebble, says the tinker. And you tell the other pebble your story. And the other pebble tells you his. And so on. 

Baby Pierre is silent, thinking.

He had planned to do the ride on his own. But what if he met another pebble....?

Scary Feet

The plane is ready for boarding.

A flight attendant comes to take the see-through container.

Here it is, says the inspection officer. 

Thanks, says the flight attendant. What do they eat?

All taken care of, says the inspection officer. The frog has a supply of dead flies. The other one's just a pebble.

Weird combination, says the flight attendant. 

I know, says the inspection officer. We get all sorts. By the way there's a little girl who'd love to take care of the frog. Her name's Rosa.

I'll see what I can do, says the flight attendant.

She takes the see-through container and heads down the ramp to the plane.

Passenger boarding commences.

At last every passenger is on.

The flight attendant walks down the aisle looking for Rosa.

There she is, next to her parents.

Hello, says the flight attendant. Are you the girl who offered to look after the frog?

Yes, says Rosa.

And is it okay with your parents? asks the flight attendant.

Fine, says Rosa's dad. Rosa likes frogs.

As long as it doesn't get loose, says Rosa's mother.

Yes! 

Rosa now has the see-through container on her lap. 

Better place it under the seat in front of you while we take off, says her dad.

No way! says Rosa. It's dark under there.

You must, says her mother.

Okay, says Rosa. I'll just tell them not to be scared.

She opens the lid a little.

I'm putting you under the seat for a while, says Rosa. It'll be dark and you might see scary feet.

Can we have a pencil? asks Baby Pierre.

And paper, adds the tinker.

Okay, says Rosa. But not yet.

She puts the see-through container on the floor and pushes it under the seat in front of her.

This sucks, says Baby Pierre. 

No it doesn't, says the tinker. She's done the right thing.

She could at least have given me a pencil, says Baby Pierre.

Too dangerous, says the tinker. In the dark you might put my eye out.

What about MY eye? says Baby Pierre.

I didn't think your eye could come out, says the tinker.

I bet it could, says Baby Pierre. Why does everyone think I'm just a pebble.

You are a pebble, says the tinker. 

Not just a pebble, says Baby Pierre.

I used to admire you, says the tinker. But you grumble too much.

Because I keep getting thwarted says Baby Pierre.

Things will look up, says the tinker.

And they do.

First of all the seat belt light goes off, which means you can do things.

Rosa pulls the see-through container out and lifts it back onto her lap.

She opens the lid slightly, and pokes in a pencil.

Baby Pierre looks up just as the pencil comes down, on his eye.

But he is just a pebble, and the pencil lands harmlessly.

See what I mean? says the tinker.

You Get What You Ask For

You could have ordered a better container, says Baby Pierre.

I didn't order it, says the Kroombit tinker. They put me in it.

Anyone can see in, says Baby Pierre.

Look on the bright side, says the Kroombit tinker. 

Which is? says Baby Pierre.

We can see out, says the tinker.

Airports all look the same, says Baby Pierre. Walls, floor and windows. People with wheelie bags and back packs. Cafes. Where are we going?

I don't know, says the tinker. We're supposed to be on the next flight to Adelaide.

This doesn't look right, says Baby Pierre.

They are taken into a small room and placed on a shelf.

The Trafficked Animals officer calls a colleague.

I'm leaving them in the inspection room, says the Trafficked Animals officer. 

The Trafficked Animals officer leaves the inspection room.

Another person comes in, and picks up the see-through container.

Frog, pebble, tiny bicycle, says the inpection officer. This all seems in order.

She picks up a thick marking pen.

She writes something on the lid of the see-through container.

SUDNUCES P G

Look at that! says Baby Pierre. They're sending us to the wrong person.

We should let them know! says the tinker.

She whacks the container.

Whack whack!

The inspection officer lifts the lid.

Everything all right in there?

No! says the tinker. Who's SUDNUCES P G?

Why are you asking? asks the inspection officer.

Because that's who you're sending us to, says the tinker. And we don't know them.

The inspection officer lifts the tinker out of the container and shows her the lid from the outside.

Oh, says the tinker. I see. But while I'm out here, is there any chance of some dinner?

Dinner is provided, says the inspection officer, placing a packet of dried flies in the container, before dropping the tinker back in.

Thank you! says the tinker.

What did you learn? asks Baby Pierre.

It was Gaius's name backwards, says the tinker.

Ha ha, laughs Baby Pierre. The inspection officer must've thought you were stupid.

She was nice, says the tinker, and she gave me these flies.

What did I get? asks Baby Pierre. 

I didn't know you wanted anything, says the tinker.

I like things to be fair, says Baby Piere.

You can eat half the flies, says the tinker.

Pebbles don't eat flies, says Baby Pierre.

They don't eat anything, says the tinker. But you could have asked for a pencil and paper.

YOU could have, says Baby Pierre.

There'll be lots of chances, says the tinker.

And she may be right.

The inspection officer takes them to the departure lounge to wait for the flight to Adelaide.

She sits down.

A young girl comes up and stares at the see-through container.

You've got a frog, says the girl. I like frogs.

This one's going to Adelaide, says the inspection officer.

You too? says the girl.

Not me, just the frog and the pebble, and its tiny bicycle, says the inspection officer.

They'll be scared, says the girl.

If you like, I'll ask the flight attendant to let you look after them, says the inspection officer.

Yes! says the girl.

How good is this! The staff at Changi certainly know what they're doing. The tinker and Baby Pierre will be taken care of all the way to Adelaide, by a girl who likes frogs. And probably pebbles.

What are the odds that she also has a pencil, and paper?