by J A Mawter
‘Next time don’t be so clumsy!’ said Hayley, whirling around and heading for the tap.
‘Phew!’ said Cal, watching her stalk off. ‘That was close.’ Sitting on his haunches he took a tissue from his pocket and began to clean up the mess.
‘Too close,’ agreed Daniel. He looked at Cal’s exposed foot, at the angry red patches and the scaling skin. Before he could stop himself Daniel blurted, ‘Looks almost alien. Like the final stage in evolution, the one before we get to self-destruct.’
At the sight of his rotting feet Cal had to agree. ‘They do look like they’re mutating,’ he said. He buried his face in his hands moaning, ‘Wish you could swap skin.’
‘There’d be no takers,’ answered Daniel, putting his arm around Cal’s shoulders. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘this afternoon we’ll go to the shops and buy something to clear it up.’
For the first time that morning Cal smiled.
‘Y-e-e-s?’ A large woman loomed over the counter of Snowpetal Pharmacy. ‘May I help you?’
Cal jumped, bumping a stand and knocking several pairs of sunglasses to the floor. As he bent to pick them up he didn’t need a mirror to know he was blushing. ‘Sorry!’ he said.
Daniel poked him in the ribs.
‘Ju-just looking!’ Cal stuttered to the chemist shop assistant, trying to put the sunglasses back but only succeeding in getting their arms tangled in the stand.
The woman’s nostrils swung together like doors slamming in Cal’s face, then she parked her nose a centimetre away. ‘Looking for what?’ she asked. She took the sunglasses from Cal’s nervous fingers and plonked them on the counter. She would deal with the tangle of glass and plastic later.
‘Er, um, nothing,’ Cal said. He gave a shrug, trying to appear casual, when his elbow knocked over a row of nail polishes. Every colour of the rainbow cascaded to the floor and landed with a clatter. Cal looked up with horror. This trip to the chemist was turning into a nightmare.
‘You can just as easy look for nothing outside, then,’ said the woman. Making a point of high-stepping over the nail polishes, she grabbed the offending elbow and went to steer Cal towards the door.
Cal refused to budge. ‘I am looking for something,’ he said. ‘I’ll know it when I see it. It’s for a gift,’ he finished lamely.
‘Gift?’ asked the woman, as suspicious as a sniffer dog at an airport. ‘Gift of the gab if you ask me!’ She let go of Cal’s elbow and stood back, her body poised. ‘Who’s the gift for?’ she hissed.
‘Mum, er, Dad,’ said Cal, wishing that he’d never come and wondering how he could escape.
‘Cal!’ interrupted Daniel from the next aisle. ‘I’ve found it!’
Cal backed towards Daniel, muttering a barely audible, ‘Excuse me,’ before ducking down an aisle, knocking over a tower of toilet paper in his haste. ‘She’s onto us!’ he squeaked as he reached his friend.
‘Never mind,’ said Daniel, holding up a jar and beaming. ‘I think I’ve found what we’re looking for.’
Cal could hear the woman picking up the toilet rolls and muttering under her breath. He stood peering at the yellow jar in Daniel’s hands. Cal could just make out the label. On it was a picture of an elephant, it’s trunk raised to the heavens.
The elephant was smiling. Above it were the words … ‘Elephant oil!’ exclaimed Cal, ‘What do I want with that?’
Daniel’s eyes danced. ‘It’s got healing powers,’ he whispered. Pointing to the label he said, ‘It says it’s a Cure-all.’
‘That’ll do me,’ said Cal, taking the jar from Daniel. ‘I need all the curing I can get.’ His voice trailed off as he started to read from the label. ‘Rashes, burns, blisters, plantar warts.’
‘Hello.’
Cal almost dropped the jar. He found himself staring face to face with … ‘Hayley!’ he gasped.
Hayley was frowning. She pulled a face. ‘Have you got plantar warts?’
Crash and burn, thought Cal, quashing his plan to take Hayley to a movie. At that same moment he felt a familiar prickle.
With her eyes on the jar Hayley read, ‘Elephant oil.’ She shot a look at Cal. ‘Animal liberationist’s would have your neck.’
They can have it, thought Cal dying a thousand deaths, as long as they take my feet too!
Chapter Three
The next day at school, the children worked on their projects for the fair. Some were making signs, some wrapping lucky dips and some sorting through prizes. Everyone was busy.
Including Cal.
With the precision of a beachcomber Cal was searching in the bushes. He carried a bucket with a textbook as its lid. Already the bucket was filling nicely. Snails slunk along the plastic floor. Snails hid under leaves. The intrepid ones scaled the slippery walls.
Cal was not sure how many snails he’d need. Twenty? Fifty? It was impossible to tell. He was still searching when he came across a beauty — the Hercules of all snails. A snail so big and strong it would trample the others as it raced. ‘I’m going to call you Helix,’ whispered Cal, tracing the shell pattern with his finger. He beamed at the snail saying, ‘Helix, you’ll be the best racer, ever!’
‘Talking to yourself?’ interrupted Daniel.
‘No,’ said Cal, quickly covering Helix with his hand. ‘I mean, yes.’ Now was not the time to reveal his secret weapon, not even to Daniel. Pointing at the bucket he used diversionary tactics, ‘There’s enough snails in there to start my own French restaurant.’
‘Gross!’ said Daniel, easing away.
‘Snails are considered a delicacy in France,’ said Cal.
‘France can have them,’ said Daniel, pulling a face like he’d just bitten on shell.
Cal laughed, then said, ‘I’m nearly done with collecting. Next, I’ve got to make little houses for them. Wanna help?’
‘Houses?’ asked Daniel with a frown. ‘Don’t they BYO?’
Cal laughed again. ‘No, silly. I need the boxes so that the kids can take them home.’
‘Oh,’ said Daniel.
‘Come on,’ said Cal, poking Daniel in the ribs to get him to follow. ‘I could do with a hand.’
But before Cal had taken two steps a person came hurtling around the corner of the building, slamming slap! bang! into him.
‘Whoa!’ said Cal. He tried to twist out of the way and would have succeeded except for one thing. The bucket swivelled from his grip and flew into the air. Cal watched in horror as it did a slow-motion tumble, the textbook going one way and the bucket the other before crashing upside-down to the ground. ‘Oh, no!’ he said.
Hayley sat in an undignified heap. She was covered in snails. Most were in her lap but some had landed higher up. One was attached to her top button and one dangled from her collar.
But it was not the snails that caught Cal’s eye. Hayley’s uniform had ridden up. Cal stood still, his eyes wide. He tried not to stare but it was harder than trying not to look at a solar eclipse. The distraction was Hayley’s underpants. Regulation blue had been replaced — with hot pink!
Cal knew he had a face to match. He watched, trembling, as a wayward snail unfurled from its shell and started to crawl along the pants’ elastic!
Should he ignore it? Warn her?
Hayley was too busy plucking snails off her jumper to notice. Daniel was helping her.
‘You okay?’ asked Cal, cross that his voice broke on the kay.
‘No!’ snapped Hayley, now pulling snails off her collar and her belt. ‘Get these off, will you!’
Daniel gave a nervous giggle but one look from Hayley soon pulled the plug on that.
Cal grew flustered. He tried to disentangle a snail from Hayley’s hair but it was clinging to a plait.
‘So foul!’ shouted Hayley, trying to prise off the slimy ball.
If you think that’s foul, thought Cal, what about that?
He peeked downwards. The snail had veered off the elastic and was heading off on The Grand Tour of the hot pink fabric. For o
nce, Cal’s face felt hotter than his feet. What to do?
‘D– don’t move,’ he stammered. With a shaking hand he snatched at the snail.
‘Aaagh!’ screamed Hayley, shoving Cal’s hand out of the way and scrambling to her feet.
Cal glanced around, hoping against hope that no one had heard. Daniel was chuckling bucketloads, but he didn’t count. Mr Langtry, however, did. He had been walking across the playground carrying a trestle table when Hayley’s cry stopped him in his tracks.
‘Shush!’ urged Cal before Hayley could cry out again. ‘You’ve got it all wrong!’
Daniel was laughing, loud lumpy laughs, now.
‘Everything all right?’ called Mr Langtry, resting the table on its legs and staring at them.
Cal ignored him. ‘Look,’ he said to Hayley, pointing to the ground.
The poor snail had hit the dust hard and was doing a squashed egg impersonation.
‘It was… ’ he began. ‘I was just… ’ How could he say it? Cal bent down and picked up what remained of the snail to show Hayley.
She was glaring at him, her look sharp enough to slice him into chips.
Mr Langtry called again. ‘You two all right?’
‘It wasn’t what you think …’ hissed Cal, then louder so that Mr Langtry could hear, ‘We’re fine!’ Cal held his breath, waiting for Hayley to dob him in.
Please don’t tell, he prayed. Please.
‘Fine, are we?’ said Hayley, tugging her uniform as low as it would go then smoothing it down.
‘Yes,’ said Cal. ‘We are.’
Hayley took her time but eventually she called out, ‘We’re okay.’
With huge relief Cal watched as Mr Langtry picked up the trestle table and marched on his way.
‘Thanks! I owe you one,’ said Cal. With an apologetic shrug of his shoulders he added, ‘It wasn’t what you think … ’
Hayley’s eyebrows shot upwards. ‘It wasn’t?’
Cal swallowed. How could he put this without embarrassing Hayley further?
‘The snail …’ he began, then stopped.
‘Yes?’ prompted Hayley. ‘What were you trying to do?’
As usual for Cal it came out all wrong. With a voice that bounced around the playground he said, ‘I was trying to reach your undies!’
Hayley gasped. Her pupils shrank. Her nostrils dipped and dived. ‘You were, were you?’
Cal flinched at his stupidity. He waited for the explosion. It did not come. Instead, something else happened.
With as much calm as she could muster Hayley bent down. One by one she collected up the snails, a smile tugging at her mouth.
Cal wondered what she was doing. Why was Hayley helping him?
But Hayley was not. Reaching over she yanked open Cal’s shirt and with the speed of a rifleman she fired her shot.
The cold hard shells were bad enough but the wet tickles were worse.
‘Now, you’ll think twice about trying to touch my knickers,’ said Hayley. And without another word she took off.
Cal stood still, watching her walk away. Thank goodness for shorts elastic, he thought, sizing up the bulge that was concentrated around his midriff, unable to fall any lower.
Cal removed the first snail and plopped it in the bucket.
Daniel laughed and said, ‘She loves you!’
Out came a second snail.
Cal groaned. ‘She loves me, not!’
Chapter Four
Over the next couple of days Cal tried to put the ‘snail’ incident behind him. During the day he concentrated on making little cardboard boxes for the children to take their snails home in. During the night he smeared on a thick covering of Elephant Oil.
‘Any success with the oil?’ asked Daniel on Thursday morning.
Cal frowned and said, ‘Hard to tell.’ Kneeling, he peeled down his sock.
‘It might be a teensy bit better,’ said Daniel, eyeing off the exposed foot. Then he changed his mind and shook his head. ‘Nah. It still looks like a raw prawn.’
Cal sighed at the sight of his feet. ‘They’re enough to give a scavenger fish food poisoning,’ he said.
The bell rang, calling them to class.
As Cal filed past, Hayley turned her head away. At least now I don’t have to worry about the flipper race, he thought, making his way to his desk.
Mr Langtry cleared his throat. It was his way of saying, Silence!
The classroom noise faded, leaving a row of expectant faces.
‘Tomorrow is our fundraiser,’ announced Mr Langtry. ‘As you all know, it is the major money-making venture for the year. I just want to double check.’ He looked around at the children. ‘Any lastminute problems?’
Having the most beautiful girl in the school furious at you, does that count as a problem? wondered Cal. Somehow, he didn’t think it did.
‘A couple of things,’ said Mr Langtry. ‘The student whose stall makes the most money will win a prize.’
‘Yay-y-y!’ cheered the class.
‘A parent has kindly donated two tickets to the next Sliders game!’
The Sliders! Cal loved the Sliders. He’d followed their every game on TV but had never got to see them in person. He could picture himself at the game, buying a cola for him and Hayley!
The bell brought him back to the present.
‘Make sure you get a good night’s sleep,’ called Mr Langtry. ‘You have to be full of energy for tomorrow.’ He chuckled, then grinned. ‘We can’t have you moving like snails.’
Cal wondered if that was a cheap shot directed at him, then decided it probably wasn’t. Boy, was he getting paranoid!
Unfortunately for Cal, he was not paranoid enough.
The next day when he arrived at school he marched up and joined the queue of students waiting to go through the school gate. Hayley was there. And so was the chemist shop assistant!
‘What’s she doing here?’ said Cal under his breath.
Hayley and the chemist shop assistant each stood with a tin, collecting a gold coin entry fee.
‘Did you manage to fix your little problem?’ asked the chemist shop assistant when it was Cal’s turn to go through. The ‘little problem’ was said with great force.
She’s probably still angry with me for destroying her shop, thought Cal. Mumbling something unintelligible he went to move on, hoping that no one was listening.
‘Your rash,’ said the chemist shop assistant, even louder than before.
Cal groaned. He looked over his shoulder, searching for an escape. There was only one entrance gate, behind stretched a line of kids. Hayley stood in front, waving the collection tin under his nose.
‘Poor boy’s got athlete’s foot,’ the chemist shop assistant went on, noting his discomfort.
‘It’s heaps better,’ said Cal, hoping she would leave it alone.
She didn’t. The chemist shop assistant announced to the whole wide world. ‘Tinea!’
Cal noticed that the mass of students had stopped talking. Thrusting his coin in the tin he tried to brush past.
‘Foot fungus!’ announced the chemist shop assistant, now in full cry, enjoying her revenge.
‘Footrot?’ asked Hayley, glancing at Cal’s feet as though she was expecting to see them all covered with green slime. She sidled away. ‘Is it infectious?’
The line of students shuffled backwards.
The chemist shop assistant nodded with all the wisdom of a microbiologist. ‘Highly!’ she stated.
The children in the line scrambled back further. Even Hayley took another step back.
The blood drained to Cal’s feet, triggering a spate of the itches that made his toenails ache. He wished he hadn’t been born.
Chapter Five
‘Toffee apple?’ asked Daniel as Cal hurried past.
Cal shook his head calling, ‘Gotta set up,’ as he scurried on his way. He needed to put as much distance between the chemist shop assistant and himself as possible.
Cal passed Tr
istan lining up his skittles and Emma putting up her Crazy Nails sign. Beside them he could see the Bobbing for Apples buckets and the Lucky Dip stall. It was while Cal was trying to avoid Hayley setting up her make-up stand that he almost walked into Stephen who was handing out his flippers and taking money from his first customers.
‘Want a go?’ Stephen asked Cal. ‘We’re about to start the first heats.’
‘I might,’ said Cal, trying not to hurt Stephen’s feelings. But one look at the children tugging off their shoes and socks convinced him otherwise. ‘After I see how things go with the snails,’ he added.
Cal walked to the far end of the playground and chose a spot. Getting out some chalk he drew a large circle on the bitumen and a smaller one inside. Between a tree and a netball post he hung up his poster: Snail Paces. Three Bucks.
‘Don’t you mean races?’ asked Daniel, coming over and pointing to the ‘P’. ‘Forget something?’
Cal shook his head. ‘Uh, uh. I do mean paces. You know, setting a cracking pace.’
‘Oh-h-h,’ said Daniel, trying to look like he understood. Then it was a quick, ‘Gotta go. See ya. Apples to sell.’ And with that he picked up a huge tray of blue toffee apples and was off.
The sun was slowly rising in the sky as Cal watched the playground humming with kids. Some wore dramatic make-up and some flashed fluoro nails. Others walked past, blue tongues flicking.
But no one stopped in front of Cal and his Snail Paces.
I’ll never make the most money and win those tickets to the Sliders, Cal thought dejectedly.
He peeked inside the bucket and frowned. The snails looked like they were all on siesta. He gave one a poke. Nothing happened.
Cal frowned, thinking, I hope they’re not dead.