T-E-S-S-I-E Spells Trouble, Chapter Two

Calvin and Sheila, if the truth be told, weren’t in any especial hurry to go home. The pleasure of each other’s company was increasingly a factor in this. It wasn’t that Calvin had put aside, or indeed altered in any way his undying devotion to the two Mini-Flash Junipers. He had however arrived at a conscious decision to play down the Juniper angle whenever he was in Sheila’s presence, because Calvin didn’t see how that would harm anyone.

This morning, after receiving Peter’s message that neither he nor Sheila was to leave today, they’d set off gladly for the outdoor pool in view of the renewed sunny weather. It really seemed to both that having long-lost parents wasn’t as bad as it was cracked up to be, and provided the condition never became life-threatening, theirs might just as well stay long-lost at least until the end of the summer.

Thus it was by the pool that Tessie, making her idle way up the camp from green block, spied the little sun-lovers.

Or to put it more accurately she spied Calvin, who was basking on a lounger in his trunks, while beside him a turquoise-coloured swimming-costume tugged and plucked itself into place unsupported in mid-air. “I’m getting changed like this because I know where your eyes always go, Calvin!” rang out a girl’s voice from around that general area.

Tessie looked on and listened, grateful she wasn’t going for a dip herself, as her stomach would never have been able to stand it.

That had to be Sheila, then.

And accompanying Sheila was…

Er, only one word in the English language could possibly suffice.

Yum.

A little fun in the sun with that fine specimen of boyhood sounded just the ticket to make Tessie’s day a success all round.

So right away she withdrew, making sure neither Calvin nor Sheila had seen her, and found out a secluded spot amidst the lilos and blubbery bathers from which she could watch and wait. Once Sheila was decent and had reverted to visibility, which in Tessie’s opinion was so little to write home about that she might as well have stayed the way she was, the former proceeded to lavish on Calvin such fawning adulation as to make Tessie marvel that anyone could bear to go near the water. Not that Sheila did herself, which her observer thought just as well, since she was wet enough as it was. The number of times she, Tessie, had been accused of giving girls a bad name made her shake her head in incredulity over what those teachers and school counsellors and policewomen would have said about the display going on right now. She herself was only able to keep a steady eye on so much witless giggling and fumbling through repeated reminders it wouldn’t be long before Calvin had a taste of the real thing.

Finally that one stood and excused himself, for which Tessie didn’t blame him in the least. Once he was safely on his way to the little huts at poolside, she made her move.

“Sheila? Is it Sheila?” Tessie hailed her in tones of deep distress, hurrying over.

Sheila blinked in astonishment at the unknown girl so skimpy and so striped.

“Thank goodness,” Tessie breathed. “Your little brother barely had time to tell me to go and fetch you. He’s in big trouble. Along with his friend, who wears glasses and a dress?”

“Robbie and Peter are here?” cried Sheila.

Tessie to all outward appearances was trembling on tears. “I begged them not to go, Sheila, but they just wouldn’t listen!” she quavered. “There’s a haunted house. And now you’re the only one who can save them in time!”

“Calvin has powers too,” protested Shelia, though the look she threw at the huts was almost frantic. “We should wait – ”

“Oh, boys!” Tessie exclaimed, her large dark eyes and the palms of her hands flying heavenward. “You know how long they take! Nothing like us. I promise I’ll stay here and send him straight after you just as soon as he comes out, but there’s not a minute to lose!”

Sheila at last nodded acknowledgment and accepted Tessie’s directions, whereat she hastened from the pool still in her swimsuit and flip-flops.

Wow, thought Tessie. What a good thing she was stupid.

Peter and Robbie had entered the old Regency Building through its skewed unbolted double-doors, outside which a signboard announced the opening of an all-new eating experience next season. The interior wore a universal coat of grey, and what little sunlight made it through the grimy window-panes disclosed a shuttered snack-bar with tables and chairs, and a relatively complete miniature racetrack outspread upon a long trestle. Two archways in the far wall let onto television rooms, dating to a time before each chalet came complete with its own set.

If these details themselves weren’t spooky, the quiet was. Somehow as soon as you were in, all the hustle and bustle of the camp seemed to hold off, for fear of disturbing the dust.

Timidly both boys commenced an exhaustive exploration of the place, though they were having trouble keeping their socks up and their underwear down. Just as Tessie had predicted, it was either that or tacitly admit her slurs against their courage had been justified. So Robbie and Peter roamed, trying to make it look as if they didn’t mind taking their time, investigating cupboards and storerooms and even risking an apprehensive glance at the basement. In this awkward fashion they tarried until one of Tessie’s other remarks on their sex was borne out, or at least until a need not unknown to boys became too pressing to put off.

“Let’s go,” pleaded Peter at length. “I’m bursting, and the ones here aren’t fit to use.”

Robbie smiled bravely back. “Me too,” he confessed. “Anyway, we’ve seen enough to prove to that girl we went. And I don’t even think it was as frightening as all – ”

The racetrack sprang to life.

Sudden starts were the last thing either boy needed. They all but jumped out of their pants, and ended up clinging to each other just thankful nothing worse had happened. Every long-dull bulb across the course had all at once regained its malicious glittering wink, while cars sped screaming round and round in some sort of diminutive death-race.

Then the television sets came on.

Neither boy could suppress a yelp as he whipped around, lurching painfully within. Two different daytime programmes blared, both at full volume, competing at a pitch that took the holiday ratings-war to new extremes. Peter and Robbie felt as if they were watching fragments of the known world which had made their way into a nightmare.

It might have been Tessie, playing with the fusebox to scare them.

The thought did occur.

However, that it might just as well have not been was the reason Robbie and Peter each grasped for the other’s hand, and ran.

END OF CHAPTER TWO