flight attendant was puzzled, but then she didn’t know Aunty Viv.
The twins laughed.
‘The animals aren’t competing. They’re supposed to be the entertainment between events.’
‘Well, the arrangements have been changed. Your aunt’s van broke down. Some of the animals escaped. She’s lost several hours looking for her goat in Surfers Paradise.’
The twins smiled. That sounded like their Aunty Viv. She was always losing something.
‘She wants you to wait at Cairns Airport for two hours. If she hasn’t arrived by then, we’re to take you to the hotel and wait. The room is booked in your parents’ name. She’ll meet you there.’
‘Where is she now?’ asked Christopher pushing back his glasses. He always did that when he was thinking.
‘On the road into Cairns. She rang from a public phone.’
‘Aunty Viv has a mobile phone. Dad bought it last time she got lost. So we could keep in touch. I wonder what’s happened to that?’
Christopher put his pencils away.
‘Probably the goat ate it!’ suggested Amy. Aunty Viv’s animals acted in TV commercials. But sometimes they just played up. And Wilhemina, the goat, had snack-attacks.
‘Two hours to wait on the ground. Can we have a look around Cairns Airport?’
The flight attendant looked worried. ‘We’re supposed to keep an eye on you. Wouldn’t you like to sit in the Unaccompanied Minors’ Lounge? Or in our office?’
‘Two more hours of sitting? No way,’ muttered Christopher. They’d been in the plane all night.
‘Sometimes we take Y.P.T.A s into the control room,’ suggested the attendant. ‘It depends who’s looking after you.’
The twins weren’t old enough to be Young Passengers Travelling Alone yet. Until twelve, you had to be an UM and the airline people looked after you ALL the time.
‘We’ve been in there before,’ said Amy politely.
Mrs Gold and Mrs Silver were listening eagerly. Amy hoped they wouldn’t offer because the twins liked to be on their own. Mysteries found them then.
‘We’ll just walk around. We’ll check in with you every half hour. Christopher likes to draw. We need to walk after all that sitting. We’ll stay in sight.’
The flight attendant looked relieved. ‘One of our people will stay near you. Are you’re sure you won’t get into trouble?’
She didn’t know that the twins were always in trouble. They were always solving mysteries or getting involved when things went wrong. Especially at airports. Just then the flight attendant tripped over the outstretched leg of Mr Muscles. He was sitting across the aisle from Amy.
‘Sorry, sir.’
‘My fault. Hard to fit my legs in this small space.’
Mr Muscles looked like a balloon man. His arms were double balloons. So were his thighs. Even his head was round. The seat was too small for him. A great shape to draw. Christopher took out his sketchbook again. Since Singapore, he’d sketched several passengers.
As the crew collected the meal trays and got ready for landing, Amy chatted to Mr Muscles. He’d been asleep most of the flight. His snores were proof of that. His snores had kept her awake. And he was a mega snorer. But now he wanted to talk.
She didn’t realise then, how important that chat might be, later.
Chapter 2
Muscle Bound
‘Is this your first visit to Cairns?’ asked Amy politely. He was so big that both his legs stuck out into the aisle. His track pants were tight across his legs.
‘Yes. A working holiday. Mixing business and pleasure. I’m a body builder.’ Mr Muscles moved his legs restlessly.
‘What sort of bodies?’ Amy pictured a panel beating shop where they fixed car bodies. Perhaps he was a mechanic?
‘Car bodies?’
‘Human,’ laughed Mr Muscles.
Amy fiddled in her bum-bag for her stickers. Amy collected stickers, coins and clues. She found the BODYWORKS sticker.’ The Mouth gave it to me on the flight to Singapore.’
Mr Muscles looked at the sticker. ‘He’s the pop singer, isn’t he?’
Amy nodded. ‘If you’re a body builder, are you a doctor? Or a designer?’
Mr Muscles shook his head. His thin hair was going bald from the front. But his skull was tight underneath.
‘Just build my own body. And the bodies of the people who come into my gym.’
Amy noticed he had eaten everything during the flight meals.
Bread roll. Chicken Mysterious, as Christopher called it. Broccoli.
Mashed potatoes. And especially the creme caramel. Mrs Silver and Gold offered their sweets and he ate them, too! He woke up for every meal. He also had a bottle of vitamins on the flight table which was still folded down. Perhaps it was a brand name, thought Amy. It was wrongly spelled as VITTAMINS.
‘How do you build your body?’ she asked. ‘With exercise?’
‘Plenty of good food. I run and lift weights and ...’ Mr Muscles paused. ‘Get a little bit of help.’
‘What sort of help?’ Amy was firing questions again. Her favourite hobby when she wasn’t collecting phone cards, stickers or stamps, was collecting answers. ‘A coach? Or a trainer?’
‘Er...’ Mr Muscles looked a little uncomfortable. ‘Stacking.’
He had a rolled up newspaper sticking out of his hand luggage.
Christopher wondered why he bothered. Often the airline supplied newspapers for passengers to read.
Before Amy had a chance to ask about ‘stacking’, he showed them his photographs.
‘I’ve been Mr World, you know.’ His wallet was stuffed with photographs. They were all of him. Usually he was bare chested with tiny bathers. Amy pushed her rainbow glasses back on her nose. His muscles looked like giant bubbles.
‘You look like Arnold Schwarzenegger,’ said Christopher.
Mr Muscles looked pleased.
‘Are you here for the International Games?’ asked Christopher.
‘Yes.
