One evening, Hortense and Masie the cows were not surprised at all to find their friend Manatee relaxing in the creek that ran through the farm.
“Hi Manatee,” said Masie, “I didn’t know you were visiting these parts.”
“Oh yesss,” said Manatee slowly, “felt it wass timmmmme for a bit of a vacationnnn, you knowwww. I was overrr in the rrrriverrrr yessterdayyy, and wwwitnesssed the currriousss ssspectacllle of a kayakathon.”
“A kayak…athon?” asked Hortense.
“Peopllle flock to the rrriverrr with their kayaksss, and paddle arround togetherrr,” explained Manatee in his deep, rumbling voice. “To nnnooo parrticularrr effect that I wasss abllle to discernnnn.”
“If they called it an ‘athon,’ maybe it was a race, and 26 miles long,” suggested Masie.
“A quite rrreasonablllle conjecturrre,” nodded Manatee, “but sadlyyy, incorrect in this instanccce. It was not a racccce, nor was there any particularrrr presscribed dissstancce.”
“Sometimes,” said Magpie, who was (as usual) hanging around nearby, “something called an ‘athon’ is for raising money. Were they raising money?”
“Unnfortunatelyyyy,” replied Manatee, “I wasss unable to overhearrr sufficient connnnversationnn to confirmmm or denyyy that possibilityyyy.”
“What would they be raising money for?” asked Hortense. “Is there something or someone that especially needs some?”
“Oh there always is,” said Magpie, “and once they raise money for that thing, they turn around and raise different money for something else. They seem to be at it constantly. It’s a wonder they can keep all the different money separate.”
“Ahhhh,” said Manatee, “but moneyy iss fungible, Magpieee. It’sss alllll the sammmme; therre is noo different moneyyyy.”
“Fungible?” said Masie. “Does that mean money is made of mushrooms?”
“Oh I quite like mushrooms,” said Hortense. “There’s often a lovely patch in the lower field.”
“I know,” said Masie, “that’s why I prefer the upper field, or the middle one. Mushrooms are not my favorite.”
“Funnngibllle,” said Manatee, “doesss nnot havve to dooo with mushhroommmms, I’mmm sssorrrry to sssay. It meanss that mmmonney is alll the ssaammmme and interchangeabllllle.”
“Really?” said Masie. “You mean it’s like…um….” she paused to try to think of something else that was all the same and interchangeable.
“It’s like waterrrr,” said Manatee. “Waterr iss allll the sammme, and it doessn’t matterrr which waterrr you swimm innn…you’re in alll the other waterrr at the ssammme timme.”
“Wait, what?” said Magpie. “There’s salt water, fresh water, sparkling water, coconut water…”
“Yesss,” said Manatee, “but itsss allll bassicallyy the samme. Waterrrr. It’ss how I am ablle to visit the farrrmmm to seee my friends. And the river, to vissssit my forrrrest friendssss. Annd nnnot to mennntionnn the mmmmanny otherrrs I visssit as wellll.”
“Well of course,” said Magpie, “you just swim over from the river to this creek.”
“Nnnnot exactlyyyyy,” said Manatee. “Iff you llook carefulllllyyyy from above, Magpie, you’lll noticcce that thisss creek isss not connected to that rrriverrrr.”
Magpie blinked. “So how do you get to the creek, then?” she asked.
“I get to the creek becausssse waterrr is funnnngiblllle,” said Manatee. “But I seeee that it’s now ssevennn thirtyyyy, ssso we cannn’t dissscusss funnngibilityyy untillll tomorrowwww.”
Magpie shook her head. “We can’t talk about fungibility after seven thirty?” she asked incredulously. “What kind of a rule is that?”
“It’ssss a lllawwww of physssicssss,” said Manatee. “The ssammme lawww that enablesss my vissitsss to thisss creek, and to mmmmannyyyy otherrr bodiesss of waterrrr.”
“I’ve never heard of this law,” said Magpie.
“Well you wouldn’t, would you?” said Masie. “You’re a bird, Magpie, so you know about flying and air and such things. Not about water.”
“But I know somethings about water,” protested Magpie, “and I’m sure I would have heard about this before, whatever it exactly is that we’re talking about.”
“We’re not talking about it,” said Hortense, “because it’s 7:31 now.”
“How do you even know that?” said Magpie, who was getting flustered. “Keeping track of time down to the minute is something people do, not us.”
“We only keep track of seven thirty,” said Masie.
“And five-sixteen,” said Hortense, “five-sixteen is important too.”
“Oh, well, that goes without saying,” said Masie, “which is why I didn’t say it.”
“What is everybody talking about?” said Magpie. “Manatee, can you please explain…hey, where did Manatee go?” The creek was empty.
“He probably went home for dinner,” said Hortense, “there isn’t anything very tasty in this creek. That’s what he’s told us before.”
“Went home?” said Magpie. “What are you talking about? Doesn’t he live…well, far away?” Magpie realized she didn’t really know where Manatee lived.
“Oh, I suppose so,” said Masie. “But if you’ll excuse us, Magpie, we’re going to turn in. We get up quite early, you know.”
“Five-sixteen,” added Hortense. “Have a lovely evening, Magpie.” The cows started their leisurely stroll back to the barn.
Magpie was so flustered her feathers had fluffed out. She smoothed them down, muttering to herself the whole time. “Something is completely screwy around here,” she said. “And I’m going to get to the bottom of it. Unless the bottom of it is underwater…but if it is, I’ll just ask the Ducks to help. Unless…well maybe they already know about this crazy law. If it is a law. I bet it’s not. I wonder if Otter put everybody up to this and they’re playing a trick on me. Bah.”
Magpie’s feathers were all back in place, so she flew off in the direction of her nest
