21. Ratio

While the Wise Sisters were maligning Shakespeare, muttering and threatening, their pink hair turned a bluish purple and then a dire black and stood up straight in the air. Small dark clouds formed rising from it and grew until they bumped into each other with bolts of lightning jolting out from somewhere among the dire clouds.

The  bolts moved upwards instead of downwards and one hit a small branch of a tree, cutting it off. The noise made by resulting claps of thunder was followed by that of the branch dropping and landing with a thump in the middle of our table. The sisters were soaking wet from the rain that poured from their clouds but they didn’t seem to mind. They were too angry with Shakespeare to care about the weather.

T this point Mr. Binky arrived. He was late of course. He was always too busy to ever be punctual for all he wanted to give the impression that he had impeccably good manners. He did not come alone. There was a small crowd behind him. It was made up of creatures who wished to witness his historical meeting with the Wise Sisters. Well, all but Alpin, who didn’t care a fig for History. But he did want something more than just to know what there would be for tea. 

Before Mr. Binky could begin to apologize profusely for arriving late and accompanied, Sabatica began to shout something that sounded like this:

“Mungo! We’re here tae help fowk learn! Noo pey attention! Open yer lugs! Fatna salmons ye wantin? Hoo monie?”

“Fuftie thoosan! To begin with!” replied Mr. Binky, convinced they would be delighted he was giving them such good business.

“Hoot! Clear the tatties oot yer lugs! Fuftie thoosan!” exclaimed Sabatica turning to see her sisters’ reactions.

“We shallna dae it!” cried Luxviminda, rising indignantly from her seat. And so all those present would not be mistaking what she said, she reverted to the Queen’s English. “I’m not opening a fish hatchery! I can hardly handle one salmon! Terrible toil and trouble!”

It turned out Sabatica was the good fairy who grants tired teachers sabatic years.

“Exploitation! I’m burnt out just hearing it! I grant myself and my sisters a sabatic year this minute. We’re out of here!”

Sabatica and Luviminda were about to disappear in a huff and a puff  when Spiridoola got up to say something too.

“The bairn has eaten up all the hazelnuts we feed MacMor! What shall we give our poor fish now?”

The bairn was Alpin, of course. He hadn’t left a single nut on the hazelnut trees. He was not ashamed of this. He had also gobbled up all there was left on the tea table and was wanting to know why there were no salmon sandwiches.