42 The Raft

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Stephen Whiteside
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42 The Raft

Post by Stephen Whiteside » Thu Nov 24, 2011 5:51 am

42 The Raft

© Stephen Whiteside 24.11.2011

At first, they found it slow going. They walked with heavy hearts. What is more, they seemed to find every obstacle. Every thick clump of vegetation. Every deep rivulet. Every cliff and fallen branch seemed to come their way. They were clumsy, walking with four left feet, as though only newly arrived to life in the wild.

An hour or so later they stopped for a break. We might have called it morning tea. They nibbled on some grass ends instead, and drank from a puddle.

It shouldn’t be this hard, Magnifico. It shouldn’t be this hard. We’ve been walking this river for many days, now. We’re seasoned veterans, almost. Yet we’re acting like novices. What’s wrong with us?

It’s Dulcie. We’re missing Dulcie.

Do you think so? Can your mind play tricks on you like that? Can it affect you physically like this?

Undoubtedly. What did she say, Horatio, think of me, and I will be there?

I don’t know. Something like that. Sounds like mumbo jumbo to me. Dulcie’s dead, and the sooner we get used to it the better. She’s not even pushing up daisies. She’s in some kookaburra’s stomach. What’s left of her.

Maybe we should try it.

Try what?



Try thinking of her?

What’s the point?

What is there to lose?

Horatio said nothing for a while. Then: Come on, let’s get going. This peanut cow isn’t going to find itself.

And so they resumed their weary sojourn. But this time it was different. Subtly, but importantly. In truth, Horatio had never really stopped thinking of Dulcie. But he had done it in a self-pitying, negative, destructive sort of way. Now he began to talk to her, as though she was still alive. As though she was still their friend and guide. And it seemed to make all the difference.

No longer did he feel clumsy and cack-footed. Everything started to feel easier once more. He found the right contour. He missed the steepest ascents and descents. He skirted the deepest puddles and ravines. The thickest tufts of undergrowth passed him by.

It was the same for Magnifico. His pace quickened, He began to enjoy the journey once more. The spirit of Dulcie guided him.

During another short break in the middle of the day (we might call it lunch), Horatio broached a new - but old - topic.

I’ve been thinking of my raft idea again, Magnifico.

Oh, yeah. The one that brought on the owl attack.

Well, it didn’t BRING ON the owl attack, it’s just that the owl attacked me while we were chewing the bark.

Whatever.

Horatio eyed Magnifico suspiciously, but said nothing. Well, it didn’t seem right to raise it while we were with Dulcie, and in truth I didn’t even think of it anyway. I was under her spell or something. But now I’m starting to think it would be a good idea again. What do you think?



I’m not sure.

I mean, it seems very unnatural, doesn’t it, for us to try to paddle down the river on a raft, and Dulcie was all for us learning to be NATURAL and drop our CIVILISED ways. But it’s not quite that simple, is it. I mean, already what we are doing is very unnatural. Rodents are normally territorial, not nomadic. Rats and mice don’t walk forever down a river like we are. They find a nice spot, and settle there.

Like I wanted to do.

Exactly. But Dulcie didn’t criticise us for that, did she? She didn’t try to talk us out of that. In fact, she seemed to rather like the idea. Her last chance to see the world before she died.

No, that’s true.

So who’s to say she would be opposed to the raft idea?



Who indeed, Horatio? You make your case well.

Horatio wasn’t sure if Magnifico was being sarcastic or not. He seemed a bit snaky this morning. Nevertheless, he chose to ignore him.

He paused, and looked around him briefly. His eyes rested on a broad, flat, woody piece of thick, dry bark. Not too big, yet not too small. Rounded somewhat.

Perfect!

What’s perfect?



That piece of bark. It would be perfect for our raft!

Why, so it would!

It would appear that the spirit of Dulcie is continuing to look after us, Magnifico.

Indeed it would, Horatio. Indeed it would.
Stephen Whiteside, Australian Poet and Writer
http://www.stephenwhiteside.com.au

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