Ronny tried his best to look properly. The wasp stirred, only slightly, but it seemed to be shuddering. Its movements were small yet jagged and loose and horrible.
Itll die in a minute, Ronny muttered, vaguely disquieted, withdrawing again and wishing he could ask the man why it was that he waved, but he didnt because he fancied quite correctly that his timing might be off-kilter. The man continued to focus on the wasp.
Ronny inspected his watch. It was getting late.
Ill be off then.
The man was very quiet, seemed barely to breathe he was so intent on his vigil. Eventually he said, I think hes finally going.
Ronny nodded and turned to leave. This was a private moment. He had no wish to intrude. He took several steps and then
My God!
He spun around, his heart racing. What?
The wasp!
Ronny smiled weakly at his own faint-heartedness, but he stepped up again with no visible signs of resentment.
See?
The man showed Ronny his hand. Ronny looked. The wasp was still. It was dead.
Its dead.
The man grunted, unimpressed. I know its dead. But did you see the sting?
The sting?
The man pointed. When it died it curled up, incredibly tightly, and then the sting came shooting out from the back there, the whole sting was revealed in that final moment.
Ronny felt absurd but he bent forward anyway. Sure enough, he saw the sting.
I see it.
Theres a wonderful logic to it sliding out like that, the man said, almost smiling. Ronny tilted his head. What do you mean?
Hes at rest. Hes surrendered. Hes finally given up his weapon.
Ronny considered this for a while and then said, No. I dont see it that way at all.
The man looked up. You dont? So how do you see it?
Well Ronny scratched his neck. Hes a warrior. His weapon is drawn even in death. Especially in death. Thats the whole point of a wasp. Hes the kamikaze pilot of the insect world.
The man smiled at this, he stared at Ronny intently, at his neat edges, his apparent cleanliness, his bright, pale face. Eventually he said, Thats very funny.
Ronny rubbed his nose, modestly.
But all the same the man continued, its not actually true. Only bees die when they sting. Wasps work differently. Theyre tougher. Hes given up his weapon. Thats plainly how it is.
Ronny didnt agree but he merely shrugged. He found it hard to commit himself to disagreements.
The man was silent for a while. Ronny studied him. He seemed very young but his face was not a very young face. It was lined, vertically, and not in the places normal faces creased and wrinkled. It was as though hed only just woken up from a hard sleep but his face hadnt shaken it, hadnt hurled off its sheets and its blankets yet to get on with the business of living.
He seemed ludicrously pliant and tractable, but singular. He seemedRonny shuddered at the thoughthe seemed wide, wide open. But you couldnt survive that way. Not in this world. Not for long. Ronny knew it.
In fact he prided himself on being shut right up. Like an oyster. Like a tomb. Like a beach-hut in winter; all bolted, all boarded. Like the bright lips of an old wound. Resolutely sealed.
Well, I think Ill be going, he said finally, swallowing down his unease and then feeling it bob back up in his throat like a ballcock.
The man glanced at Ronny, but only quickly, as though he could barely stand to drag his eyes away from the dead wasp. Todays been worthwhile after all, he muttered. You know? Just to get to see the wasp and the sting and everything.
Ronny thought the man must be deranged but he nodded anyway.
Do you need another look before I bury him?
Need? Ronny smiled. No, I dont think so.
The man sighed. He feels so hollow and light now that the life has gone. Before he had a kind of weight. Some gravity. But not any more.
Ronny turned to go.
The man spoke again, a parting shot, it seemed, because as he spoke he also turned. Im Ronny.
Ronny froze.
Ronny?
The other Ronny stopped turning.
What?
Ronny pointed to himself.
Im Ronny too.
They both paused.
Uhactually, Ronny said, Im Ronald. How about you?
The other Ronny shrugged, I dont know.
Were The Two Ronnies.
The other Ronny didnt get it. What?
Like in the comedy show.
What comedy show?
You dont remember The Two Ronnies? The little one with glasses and the bigger, fatter one?
The other Ronny shook his head. No.
Oh. I thought everybody knew about them.
The other Ronny pointed at the wasp and said, I think Id better bury him. He started walking towards the edge of the bridge. He walked strangely. Ronny thought that this was because there was something wrong with his legs but then he realized that his shoes were several sizes too large. They were white shoes.
Excuse me
The other Ronny stopped walking. What?
Were wearing the same shoes.
The other Ronny peered down at his shoes. These arent my shoes.
Not yours? Then whose are they?
I dont know. I mustve picked them up somewhere.
Ronny drew closer to the other Ronny. You know, its a rare thing to see someone in white shoes. And those shoes are special. Theyre the kind I wear for work.
The other Ronny frowned and looked down at his shoes a second time. Maybe they are your shoes.