looked around the plane. Judging by the shoulders, there were a few body-builders on board.
‘Sports teams on board, too,’ added Amy who often knew what her twin was thinking.
The flight attendant collected empty juice glasses from several seats of team track suits.
‘I’m on the juice,’ said Mr Muscles. His skin had bumps and purple patches of acne. He also had a squarish jaw.
‘Have my orange juice then,’ offered Amy. ‘I’m not thirsty.’
That’s not exactly what he meant. Amy didn’t understand until much later.
At home, Amy was called Jet Jaws. She talked a lot but she also listened. That’s one reason she liked flying. Passengers loved talking about themselves. Since leaving Singapore, she’d learnt about antique jewellery from Mrs Gold and Mrs Silver and body building from Mr Muscles.
Amy wondered if Cairns had any Talking Games this week. She pictured the team of Mrs Gold and Mrs Silver talking against Mr Muscles. With Aunty Viv as the compere. That would be a noisy event.
Amy flicked the pages of the inflight magazine. She’d read ‘This Sporting Week in Cairns’ by Tom Savvas and ‘Sporting Drug Dangers’.
She’d done the crossword. She had already finished her book and all the magazines. Being a super fast reader was a problem on long flights.
‘Excuse me.’ She leaned across the aisle. ‘Could I read your newspaper please?’
But that’s when Mr Muscles went all strange. Until then, he’d been chatting to them in a friendly way.
‘Haven’t read it yet myself,’ he grumped rolling it more tightly and cramming it deeper in the bag at his feet.
Amy watched him later. From the time she asked to borrow the paper until touch down, Mr Muscles did NOT read his newspaper. The flight attendant did ask him to put up his table when the seat belt sign went on again. Maybe he liked to spread his paper out on a table?
Perhaps he was just one of those grumps who didn’t like lending things?
Or maybe there was another reason?
Chapter 3
Umbrellas
Cairns felt steamy -- a tropical smell mixed with hot tarmac.
Going down the steps, Amy looked up at the dense, green mountains surrounding the airfield. Their pilot must have been skilful to get into here. Now a Boeing 747 was taking off, at a very steep angle to get across the mountains.
‘Our plane hasn’t got an aerobridge,’ noticed Christopher as they walked across the tarmac and under the covered walkway. Aerobridges linked other planes with Air Niugini, Japan Airlines and Singapore Airlines signs. Aerobridges were like people vacuum cleaners, the planes plugged into the tube and all the people were vacuumed out.
A breeze rustled, bushes moved and palm trees swayed. Little vehicles buzzed around. All the airport vehicles had flashing yellow lights. Even the ride-on mower.
Look!’ Amy pointed to the yellow wheelie bin stuffed with giant striped umbrellas. ‘Are they free?’
‘People use them when it’s raining. They drop them in another bin at the other end of the walkway,’ explained the attendant.
‘Cool,’ said Christopher. But it wasn’t. The weather was muggy.
Camouflaged in green and brown, an army helicopter buzzed on the tarmac like an agitated insect. Soldiers ducked under the revolving blades. On a far runway, the FLYING DOCTOR’s small plane was landing. Amy wondered where the emergency had been as an ambulance bumped slowly towards the plane.
‘It might rain again soon,’ said the attendant.
‘Ace. We’ll use an umbrella.’ Amy grabbed one. She twirled it like a shield. The rainbow stripes blurred. Christopher grabbed an umbrella, too. He opened his with a ‘click!’
‘On guard!’ He challenged Amy.
They acted out a duel....Umbrellas at three paces.
‘Hey!’ called the attendant. ‘Back here please.’
Track-suited as well as casually dressed passengers walked past, staring at the children. Just then, Amy’s open umbrella fell. It rolled on its side. With a sudden gust of wind behind, it gathered speed. The umbrella blew across the tarmac. It danced across unevenly on its points, in the direction of the helicopter.
‘Catch it Christopher!’ Amy shouted.
But Christopher made a mistake. Somehow, he let go of his own umbrella. That took off, too. The sudden wind was strong.
Mine employees were walking in from the smaller Flight West
Airline plane which serviced their Red Dome gold mine. Obedient passengers following the covered way to their waiting planes ducked as the open rainbow umbrellas rolled in between as if navigated by radar.
Mr Muscles sidestepped one umbrella. He nearly dropped his rolled newspaper. But he made a sudden save and caught the paper. It hadn’t even unrolled.
‘Stop them!’ Amy yelled.
Amy started to run. So did Christopher.
The first umbrella curved. It wobbled and fell sideways. The stick stuck upwards. It rocked from side to side. But the second one kept rolling. Christopher sprinted. He made a lunge for the umbrella. He missed. His knee skinned as he contacted the ground. ‘Ow!’
Just then, a team in navy tracksuits came down the steps of the twins’ plane. The first man saw the rainbow umbrella rolling towards them.
Amy called, ‘Catch that umbrella.’
So the teamwork started. The first man dived for the umbrella handle and passed it to the second. The second man put it upright, flicked the button and closed it. ‘A point to our team?’ he laughed. The third team member chased, flicked and brought back the second umbrella. He was so fit he wasn’t even panting when he said, ‘Yours?’
Amy smiled but she was really embarrassed. Christopher didn’t mind so much. He was thinking of how he could draw the scene and which colours he’d use. On the back of each of the team track suits was printed sponsors’ messages. In red, green and yellow colours.
USE X BRAND PAINT.
YYY MINING COMPANY.
DRINK MILK.
Only the first man had a plain navy track suit. It was slightly paler. Why was his different? Had something washed off?
‘Thanks.’ Christopher pointed. ‘How come his track suit is different? Is he the coach or manager
