rthstewart (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rthstewart) wrote2011-09-23 08:04 pm
rthstewart) wrote2011-09-23 08:04 pm
Mary, Polly, South America and the wet books
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lady_songsmith who asked for this: Polly, Mary, South America, and the time all the books but one got soaked.
EDIT: NOW WITH ADDED COMMENTFIC (OF COURSE)
Three pairs of eyes peered over the edge of the dugout canoe into the murky depths of the Amazon.
Polly blew out an aggravated breath. “And I suppose that all your examination textbooks Digory gave you were in that bag now sinking to the bottom of the second largest river in the world?”
“I’m afraid so,” Mary replied airily. “The Latin and Greek, the religion, and the philosophy.”
“The only thing that did not fall in is Gadow’s Amphibia and Reptiles, Asim added.
“That is a stroke of luck, what?”
Polly vowed she was never traveling again with a seventeen year old girl. If she wanted further demonstration of the merits of relationships only with women, and rigorous use of contraception when with men, here it was in the boat next to her.
“What do you think, Asim?” Polly asked.
“I think I am more comfortable swimming with the fauna of Africa than South America.”
“Mary? What’s down there if I push you in to retrieve your bookbag?”
“Well, there is Eunectes murinus of course.”
Asim looked at Polly and she whispered, “Green Anaconda.”
“Largest snake in the world. There’s also Melanosuchus niger.”
“That’s a…”
“I know,” Asim said wearily. “It’s some kind of crocodile.”
“I wonder…” Mary leaned precariously over the side of the boat and stuck her fingers into a small school of circling fish. The fish rushed at her appetizing appendage.
“Ha! I thought so!” Mary exclaimed, yanking her fingers out. “Pygocentrus nattereri!!” She waggled her fingers – one was bleeding.
That did it.
“Asim, start the engine,” Polly said, utterly exasperated. Tempting as it was to shove Mary in, Polly really couldn’t blame her. The red piranhas of the Amazon were welcome to Digory’s fourth best copy of the Virgil’s Aeneid and Duns Scotus’ Questions on Metaphysics.
lady_songsmith who asked for this: Polly, Mary, South America, and the time all the books but one got soaked.EDIT: NOW WITH ADDED COMMENTFIC (OF COURSE)
Three pairs of eyes peered over the edge of the dugout canoe into the murky depths of the Amazon.
Polly blew out an aggravated breath. “And I suppose that all your examination textbooks Digory gave you were in that bag now sinking to the bottom of the second largest river in the world?”
“I’m afraid so,” Mary replied airily. “The Latin and Greek, the religion, and the philosophy.”
“The only thing that did not fall in is Gadow’s Amphibia and Reptiles, Asim added.
“That is a stroke of luck, what?”
Polly vowed she was never traveling again with a seventeen year old girl. If she wanted further demonstration of the merits of relationships only with women, and rigorous use of contraception when with men, here it was in the boat next to her.
“What do you think, Asim?” Polly asked.
“I think I am more comfortable swimming with the fauna of Africa than South America.”
“Mary? What’s down there if I push you in to retrieve your bookbag?”
“Well, there is Eunectes murinus of course.”
Asim looked at Polly and she whispered, “Green Anaconda.”
“Largest snake in the world. There’s also Melanosuchus niger.”
“That’s a…”
“I know,” Asim said wearily. “It’s some kind of crocodile.”
“I wonder…” Mary leaned precariously over the side of the boat and stuck her fingers into a small school of circling fish. The fish rushed at her appetizing appendage.
“Ha! I thought so!” Mary exclaimed, yanking her fingers out. “Pygocentrus nattereri!!” She waggled her fingers – one was bleeding.
That did it.
“Asim, start the engine,” Polly said, utterly exasperated. Tempting as it was to shove Mary in, Polly really couldn’t blame her. The red piranhas of the Amazon were welcome to Digory’s fourth best copy of the Virgil’s Aeneid and Duns Scotus’ Questions on Metaphysics.
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And Fate perhaps that the most important book did not fall into the river?
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When Digs found out about this, it was a thing to see. His Victorian British cast-iron sentimentality warred mightily with his profound irritation for the treatment of the Dread Dunce - as Mary called him, and as Polly tended to heartily agree. All involved watched avidly as various emotions flitted across Digs' face.
Finally, he came to a concluding explosion that was neither too sentimental nor too stoic.
"MARY ANNING!" he thundered. "YOU ARE NEVER TO REMOVE ANY WRITTEN MATERIALS FROM MY OFFICE AGAIN. UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. EVER. HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?"
"Crystal," said Mary, shifting to attention in her seat.
Only Asim noticed the battered copy of Darwin's Descent of Man which Mary slipped into her rucksack, behind her back. He said nothing, of course -- nothing verbal, that is; in a quiet place within himself he asked Allah to please make him understand why he, Asim, had been compelled to follow so troublesome a charge.
Mary, always aware of attention, winked at Asim over her shoulder before attentively returning to Digory's tirade. Asim cracked a slight smile, against his own will. So be it: Allah had a sense of humor, and that was reason enough for this.
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Paying up
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I love how she's pretty much the same several years on, and how Polly is just "...why is this my life." :DD
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Mostly, though, I love the three little pairs of eyes peeping over the edge of the dugout canoe. :)