6. The Wabbit and the Red Bag Creatures

The Wabbit and Lapinette carefully sealed the creatures in the red bag and set off in search of the figure. They boarded a number of vaporettos and scoured the canals. The rain become heavy, and they were just about to call a halt when the water foamed and a noisy craft approached. It was a dirty, oily green and sported a heavy industrial crane. Steered by a dark figure, the ghostly barge cleaved a path through the murky waters with a cargo of red bags - all identical to the one they'd taken from the cloaked figure. "Looks like our opportunity," said the Wabbit, "Let's give him back his bag." He gestured with a paw. Lapinette leaned over the side, swung the bag three times then let it go. It sailed towards the barge in a graceful arc. But just as the bag reached the apex, the creatures broke free and flew in all directions. The air was thick with them. At first sight they looked like a flock of crows but the Wabbit knew better and he yelled, "Take cover!" He ducked, but they dove straight at the Wabbit, squealing as they came. Amidst the deafening noise, Lapinette tried to drag them away - but there were many. The barge drew alongside, and the cloaked figure's voice cut through the clatter of the engine. "Satisfied now, Wabbit?" He snapped a finger. The creatures broke off their attack and soared around the figure at the helm. With a burst of speed, the barge surged past and round a corner, followed by the creatures. The Wabbit picked himself up and raced to the vaporetto's hatch to yell at the pilot, "Follow that barge!"

5. The Wabbit and the Things in the Bag

The Wabbit and Lapinette scampered off and disappeared into a back-street bar that hardly anyone knew about. The Wabbit threw the bag on a table and called for a stiff drink. "You first," said Lapinette. The bag seemed full of nothing. The Wabbit prodded it. There was a scuffling sound. Lapinette drew back. The Wabbit looked at it for a while. Then he shrugged and unzipped the top, but the bag fell open and creatures flew out. One brushed past his head like an oversized moth and another darted at Lapinette. Creatures were everywhere and the Wabbit tried to scoop them back into the bag - with some success. With the last one in, he zipped up the bag and sat staring at Lapinette. Lapinette stared back and grimaced. "Well, it was your idea." The Wabbit grimaced back. "Maybe I'll just try another pocket," he said. His paw reached out but Lapinette grabbed it. "Things are bad enough already." The Wabbit tried to grin. "I suppose the cloaked figure will be looking for the right bag." Lapinette gave the matter consideration. She lifted the bag and put it down again. It seemed heavier. "We could try to exchange the bag again," she suggested. "Or we could leave it in a left luggage locker," joked the Wabbit. "Not on my watch!" yelled Lapinette. The Wabbit looked puzzled. "What are they anyway?" Lapinette remained silent and shook her head. "Some kind of phantom delicacy?" said the Wabbit. Lapinette wrinkled her nose. "At least they're quiet." That was when the noise started, a high-pitched squealing that set their teeth on edge. "Let's find the figure," gasped the Wabbit ...

4. The Wabbit, Lapinette and the Big Swap

It was a rain-soaked, dismal day and people waded across Venice as best they could. The Wabbit and Lapinette hated rain since it sullied their fur, but nonetheless they cast around for an appearance of the red bag. Late in the day they spotted it, half afloat under stacked tables in Piazza San Marco. "OK, here goes," said Lapinette and she sprang onto the tables carrying the substitute bag. The Wabbit glanced around for the cloaked figure but there were so many people and so many umbrellas, that he couldn't spot him. The red bag was there so he knew he had to be around, but where? Lapinette dropped her own bag into the water and fished out the other bag. She sensed something at her back, and turned to look round. Nothing. There was no figure, only a feeling that made her fur stand on end. She shook off the feeling like a dog throws off rain and with all her strength she punted the bag towards the Wabbit. It spiralled through the air towards the Wabbit's waiting paws. People brushed all around the Wabbit in a grumpy fashion, bumping into him as they plodded along the raised platform. No-one wanted to slip off into the murky flood, so they took no notice of a rabbit waiting for a red bag, or of a spiralling bag twisting in the air. The Wabbit reached like a goalkeeper and clutched the bag to his chest. "Oomph!" he grunted. It was then that he noticed the figure rising from the water. It didn't seem to see him. It was more interested in getting the red bag. The figure raised a finger and beckoned - and the bag floated towards him. "Bingo!" muttered the Wabbit.

3. Lapinette and the Substitute Bag

The Wabbit just could not let the matter lie. It was imperative to get to the bottom of the business with the red bag and he'd had an idea. He contacted Lapinette and asked her to find a duplicate bag and bring it to Venice. Lapinette scoured all of Turin for the appropriate item - and having found something that looked like the bag described by the Wabbit, took the first train. The Wabbit said to meet at the Rialto vaporetto jetty and that was where she found him. "Psst," whispered the Wabbit, "round here." He'd tucked himself well behind a kiosk and Lapinette nodded approvingly when she couldn't see him. "I've got the bag," she said in a hushed tone. She threw it over to the Wabbit, who caught it and examined it closely. "Why all the secrecy?" she asked. The Wabbit explained about the vanishing bag and the spooky figure and added, "Next time I see the bag I'm going to try to exchange it for this one." Lapinette grinned. "Not without me, you won't." The Wabbit nodded in agreement. "Maybe you can distract the figure?" Lapinette looked excited. "What does he look like?" "Just a figure," said the Wabbit. "No face?" said Lapinette. "He has kind of a hood and cloak," said the Wabbit. "No dagger? smirked Lapinette. "Not that I know of," answered the Wabbit. Lapinette tapped her frock. "I brought mine anyway." "Just in case of trouble?" commented the Wabbit. "I bring my own trouble," smiled Lapinette ..

2. The Wabbit and the Flooded Landing

The Wabbit thought no further about the figure and the red bag. But sometime later when he hopped onto a landing in Venice, there was the bag again. Water lapped around his feet and soaked the bottom of the bag and he felt impelled to rescue it. He knew it was the same bag as he'd seen on the canal - because the Wabbit liked bags and recognised all the scuffs and tears. In the Wabbit's opinion, all bags had a different personality bestowed on it by its owner and its contents. He hopped across and prodded it gently with a single foot but that told him little. All the same, he felt reluctant to open it. He gazed at it for a while until a voice came into his head and whispered in a seductive fashion. "Open the bag, you know you want to." The Wabbit replied to himself. "It's not my bag." The voice in his head spoke again. "You might find out who owns it and then you can return it." The Wabbit nodded and examined the bag closely. It had any number of zips and any number of pockets where he might find an ID. So he picked a zip and poked out a paw to grasp the pull tab, but water lapped around the bag and moved it some distance away. He followed it. The same happened again. He stopped because he heard that voice again. This time he turned fast, just in time to catch sight of a figure that quickly vanished to nothing. He wheeled back but the bag was no longer there. Now he was completely alone with only the lapping of waves to keep him company. "My paws are wet," he grumbled ...

1. The Wabbit and the Red Bag

The morning was more than brisk and the Wabbit took the opportunity for a constitutional hop. He was between adventures and that was time to relax and recharge. He took the long route around the town, where canals passed through the fields. He found the water peaceful and always stopped on the bridge to watch for a while. Usually not much happened. He would ponder geometry and imagine the network that took water across farmland towards Venice. But there was something in the water. That was unusual enough. But for the occasional passing of a heron, nothing of any excitement took place. He took a closer look. Just beneath the bridge, a bright red bag lay abandoned on the bank. It looked new. The Wabbit thought for a moment. "Where there's a bag there's usually an owner." He glanced around and became aware of a solitary figure that seemed to be standing in the water. "Hello there!" he shouted. "You've lost your bag." The figure didn't move. The Wabbit shouted louder. "Your bag's here, shall I get it for you?" He made his way along the bridge to slide down the bank, but when he got there the bag had disappeared. He looked up the canal and there was the bag lying under the water, just by the figure. The figure stood stock still, then solemnly waved. The single, slow sweep of its arm was like the seconds hand of a clock. The Wabbit waved back. The figure fished in the canal for the bag and finding it, turned and waded through the water. The Wabbit watched until he was out of sight ...

The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

The team gathered for their Adventure Caffè discussion. It was at Eataly in Lingotto and they were looking forward to it. Skratch slid in late as usual and raised a paw in greeting. "That was a fine adventure we just had," he purred. Lapinette stretched out both paws in welcome. "But exactly what kind of adventure was it?" Wabsworth's eyes gleamed. "It was at the very junction of the symbolic and the imaginary!" The Wabbit tapped the table lightly with a single paw. "You're talking about suture." Skratch meaowed pleasantly. "Well you're both quite right. The articulation of a signifying chain of episodes operates through the absence constituted by the subject." Lapinette's laughter was like a stream washing lightly over rocks. "That's Stephen Heath, as you well know, Skratch." Now Skratch purred with delight. "Our adventure was all jump cuts and blind spots." Wabsworth was very happy to have been in this adventure and his circuits whirred. "You know, I have a pristine copy of Wide Angle Film Quarterly." Skratch nearly fell over. "It's worth a fortune. Which one?" "Volume 10 No. 3," replied Wabsworth. "My goodness, said Skratch, "Do you keep it in a safe?" Wabsworth chortled. "I got it in a market for one euro, fifty. No-one knew what it was." "Or meant," laughed Lapinette. The Wabbit poked Skratch. "And who is this absent one of whom you speak." "The reader of course," stated Skratch. "Oh him," shrugged the Wabbit. "Her," corrected Lapinette.
[Skratch is talking about Stephen Heath. (1981) Questions of Cinema, The Macmillan Press, London.]

10. The Wabbit and the Fast Train Home

The yellow box was a good as its word. The team boarded the train and made for the dining car where a sumptuous banquet awaited. The train was empty, it was only for them. But the Wabbit lingered behind and snuggled into his favourite single seat at the end of the coach. The train powered up and moved out of the station. The Wabbit gazed at the platform. He could see their footprints in the snow and a thought crossed his mind. "I have a vague feeling we'll all be back ere long." He realised he'd said it out loud and that Lapinette was behind him. "Do you reckon?" she whispered. "I know it in my waters," murmured the Wabbit. The train roared along the track to Torino. Skratch's voice meaowed from the speakers. "We're all waiting in the dining car. Please report. Drinks are on the table." The Wabbit thought it was time to venture an apology to Lapinette. "Sorry about that red button." She laughed. "Where would we be without them?" "Middle of nowhere," grinned the Wabbit. They both looked out of the window. Trees and telegraph poles and pylons blurred past. They watched them for a while. "How long have we been having strange adventures?" pondered Lapinette. "More years than I care to remember," shrugged the Wabbit. The train sounded its klaxon as it pounded through a station. "I'm hungry," said Lapinette. The Wabbit's tummy rumbled and he patted it. "What's on the menu?" he asked. "Prosecco," smiled Lapinette. She pulled the Wabbit to his feet, and paw in paw they made their way to the dining car.

9. The Wabbit and the Red Button

The Wabbit looked at the sign. "This really is the middle of nowhere." Then he paused. "And look, there's a yellow box that says stop just like the one at the tram halt." Lapinette took a good look at the box. She sighed. "Wabbit, it doesn't say stop. It says SOS." The Wabbit sulked. "Well, I spoke to one, and it said it could stop things." Wabsworth chimed in. "Probably it can. It can stop a tram." Skratch meaowed from further along the platform. "Or in this case ... a train." Skratch knew all about signs, signifiers and what they signified. The Wabbit smiled. "Maybe this is an emergency. I'm going to press the button." Before anyone could say anything, his paw jabbed the button and a voice spoke from the speaker. "Ah it's you. Did I stop you being bored, Wabbit?" Everyone pointed at the Wabbit and shouted at once. "This is all your fault!" Lapinette hopped up and down. "Boredom is not an emergency!" The Wabbit waved everyone aside. Then he turned and addressed the box. "Can you stop us being stranded?" "I can indeed" said the box. They heard the tootle of a horn in the distance. The tracks rumbled. Lights changed. A station announcement began. "Arriving at Platform One, special non-stop express train for Torino, Porta Nuova. The Wabbit grinned at Lapinette with all of his 28 teeth. Lapinette stamped a foot. "There'd better be a buffet on this train." "A banquet awaits you in the dining car," crackled the yellow box, "I think you all deserve it." Behind them, a train slid into the station and doors hissed open. But there was another sound. "That box laughed," said Lapinette.

8. The Wabbit and the Deserted Station

Under a lowering slate-grey sky the train braked to a halt in a lonely station. Snow began to pelt down and lay thick on the platform. The Wabbit sprinted and skidded down the train. He pounded on the compartment door which was well stuck, then he sprinted back to the cab for the wrecking bar. If there was one tool the Wabbit liked it was a wrecking bar, and he set upon the door with vigour and good faith. A crack opened. Then with a hiss, the door slid open - more or less. Lapinette flew through first. The Wabbit pointed up the platform and urged her on, although he didn't know why. He just had a feeling in the pit of his stomach. Skratch was next and halted to ask a question, but the Wabbit shouted and waved him along. Wabsworth looked groggy as he tottered out. The Wabbit pushed him forward and yelled, "Everyone, get to the other end of the platform." He threw the wrecking bar between the sliding doors but it was too late. The doors slid shut just as the train powered up and left the station in the opposite direction. They watched it as it careered down the line, left the rails and hit a dilapidated railway building. The bang was deafening. The train buckled and lay groaning in the snow. Tendrils of smoke rose. Shards of metal dropped through the snow. "There goes our ride home," sighed Lapinette.

7. The Wabbit and the Emergency Brake

The Wabbit dived into the cab and searched for the emergency brake. He pulled every lever he could but the train still rumbled on. The brake handle was stuck and the dead man's switch was nowhere to be seen. He tried brute force and ignorance but that didn't work either. The train roared down the tracks at enormous speed. Vibration shook every bone in his body. He slumped down on the seat - and felt something give way. So he threw himself on the floor of the cab and groped underneath with both paws. There was something there - a red switch, jammed with a brick. He tried to dislodge it, but the switch stuck fast and every attempt to loosen it made things worse. The Wabbit jumped up and down on the seat to no avail. He sat down and gazed through the windshield. The tracks looked like a maze. Stations strobed past. A train loomed in front, but they passed straight through it. "OK. Plan B," shrugged the Wabbit. He rummaged through the cab and pulled out everything he could. Then he searched the compartment behind. "Aha!" he breathed. Standing in the corner was a wrecking bar. He seized it and lurched to the front. Then with a mighty cry he swung the bar under the seat like a scythe. The seat toppled off its plinth. "Grrr," growled the Wabbit and he set about the jammed switch with both feet. It came off too. But he felt the train slow. Then he heard a squeal and smelled the acrid odour of burning brakes. He grinned and muttered to himself. "This is the next stop of this train. Please ensure you take your belongings with you."

6. The Wabbit in the Runaway Train

The train shrieked along the tracks like a runaway ghost. It flew through a misty mesh of signals and stopped for none of them. It shuttled through points and dissolved through anything it met. Twin lights cut a path through an iron landscape. Stations blurred past. Nothing could stop it. Inside, the team wrestled with connecting doors but they were all locked. They sat down and thought hard. "What about the alarm chain," suggested Lapinette. The Wabbit jumped at the chain and pulled it. It came away in his paw and clattered on the floor. Wabsworth tackled a window and with a touch of hydraulic pressure it moved. "Along the roof?" said the Wabbit. Everyone nodded. He shrugged, then Skratch lifted him up. With a hop, the Wabbit pulled himself through the window. Wind tore at his fur. He searched for a grip, found it, and vaulted onto the top of the carriage. Pylons flashed by. He gritted all of his 28 teeth and held on as a train pounded past on the opposite track. He ducked as the train flew under a bridge. The mist tasted like old broccoli and it battered his lungs. He gasped. But bit by bit he pulled himself towards the motor coach. The roof was damp and slippery and several times he slithered to the edge. But the driver's cab was in sight. Clinging like grim death, he threw a leg over the side and kicked until he heard glass smash. Then he dropped and vaulted inside ...

5. The Wabbit and the Train to Nowhere

The Wabbit climbed the stairs to the to the upper compartment. He flopped down, but soon realised he had company. "Wabbit!" yelled Lapinette, "What are we doing here? Is this one of your stunts?" He heard a meow from behind him. "What's going on?" purred Skratch, "I was about to watch a film." Lapinette was breathless. "I was collecting wood for your shed when everything shook and I ran and now I'm here." The Wabbit shook his head and he scowled. "Well, the tram was late so I pressed an intercom thing on the platform." They heard the clang of approaching steps. Wabsworth appeared from the lower compartment, moaning as he climbed the stairs. "I was having a quiet diagnostic when I found myself spatially dislocated." The train swayed and he grabbed the rail. He pointed at the Wabbit. "This is your fault, isn't it?" The Wabbit dismissed him with the wave of a paw. "Not guilty," he shrugged. The train got faster. Skratch looked out but stations, poles, pylons and trees blurred past. "This is the back of beyond." The Wabbit nodded. "That's more or less what the guard said." Lapinette jumped up and down. "You met a guard!" The train's PA system crackled into life. "This is the Guard. We are now approaching the station after the one before." A station blurred past. "We didn't stop!" yelled Lapinette. The PA crackled again and the Guard spoke. "There are no further stops of this train. Please have your tickets ready." The train rattled onwards ..

4. The Wabbit on the Foggy Platform

The Wabbit was no longer at a sunny tram stop. He was on a foggy rail platform and he shivered in the cold air. A train thundered in and the platform shook as wheels shrieked to a halt. Station announcements barked information. The Wabbit recognised none of the stations but one thing was certain. He was a long way from home. He didn't like the look of this at all - and he shook his head with vigour. The doors opened with a loud hiss but the Wabbit declined to get on. He hung from a platform light and waited. The guard's door opened, and a man stepped out. He looked up and down the train, and when he caught sight of the Wabbit, he said, "All aboard now, all aboard." The Wabbit shook his head again. "Where is this train going?" he asked. The guard beckoned. "Come on now. There won't be another train for quite some time." The Wabbit was reluctant. "I've got no ticket." He hopped back a little. "The guard waved a machine. "No bother, I'll sell you a ticket when we're underway." The train blasted its horn three times and some of the doors hissed closed. "Last chance," said the guard. The Wabbit hopped back once more but the guard pressed him. "Look all around. Do you see anything?" "No," confessed the Wabbit. "This is the middle of nowhere," shrugged the guard. He waited. "Join all your friends on board," he suggested. That was enough for the Wabbit and he hopped on. The doors hissed shut behind him as the train took off and hurtled into the fog ...

3. Skratch and the Shaking Stairs

The day was hotter than expected. It was only April but it seemed like a scorching day in August. So Skratch the Cat went in search of air conditioning. "Where else but the cinema?" he thought. He wandered down Via Nizza and strolled into 8 Gallery at Lingotto. It was very quiet and Skratch smiled to himself. "Excellent," he murmured. But when he reached the sales desk there was no-one there. "Afternoon break," he thought and prowled on. As he made his way down to the auditoriums, he could just hear movies playing above the rumble of the escalators. "I'll pay on my way out," he meaowed. Although the atmosphere was electric, he met not a soul. The place was as empty as the devil's heart. "I must be in a  film." Skratch hissed. His purring increased along with his heartbeat. "This is so weird," he growled. He adopted a crouching posture, just in case. Then the escalator lurched and the whole cinema began to shake, pitching him forward. Amid the chaos, the escalator kept going but with enough noise for three. Perspex panels vibrated and tiles fell from the ceiling. Skratch sprang forward and out of the way as the escalator stairs groaned, coiled and collapsed behind him. He twisted in mid-air, landed on his feet and looked back. Then he grinned. "Good thing I'm a cat..."