Twisting by the Pool, Chapter Three

Children dressed in swimming-costumes and those little things like pants stood drenched and gaping by the side of the pool, half the contents of which had just dropped on them.

Had a depth-charge detonated, it couldn’t have propelled more expediently sunwards the fighting-mad girl in a blue bikini nor the pair of big boys with whom she was locked. Mini-Flash Juniper didn’t know which of two potential masters these served, but whoever it was hadn’t dragged what did duty for him as feet. Her own bare white ones were kicking through air as the last of the barrage dispersed, so amid residual glints of spray she broke from the clutching hair-plastered duo and plotted a landward course.

Those few still sunk within the pool’s walls were struggling as against a surge, while wondering forlornly how to get out now the sides stretched so far above their heads.

Juniper’s soles slapped to rest atop the spilling circumference of some vast hollow pipe, whose triple spiral towered above her like a giant stortarellum. She’d noted the Earthlings enjoyed a descent through the winding interior of this construction, so supposed her intended route was going to be inappropriate in two ways. Not that this checked for a second Mini-Flash Juniper’s starting sprint, upwards and upon the outside.

It wasn’t too far different from the sports she was used to. True, a Flashball court didn’t bend like that, nor did the world spin dizzyingly or recede ever further below it.

Juniper was able to ignore those elements though, and focus on what she had to.

Picture the ball.

Picture possession.

Picture resolving to maintain it.

In fact it was enlightening, to soon find herself immersed in the illusion of jogging on the spot, while the frame of the enormous tube and all the landscape on either side seemed to swing round and round her. It meant rays of dazzling sun planed every few breaths and blinked away as fast, which when coinciding with a lurch or leap from her twin assailants turned this spinning career into a fact-finding mission. They were holograms, after all, so intersected thus by direct sunlight they didn’t appear big boys anymore. Juniper then was dodging gnarled and knotty fingers twice the size of those of any human, and glimpsing bulgy eyes, lips like meat, and horns and incisors brilliant with every prismatic shade in the spectrum.

She remembered this double-act. Joe would have known their names, but they were the two who’d hurled poor old Crushroom from the ridge now whirling beneath her.

This, Mini-Flash Juniper stored carefully away as she ducked and wove.

The last supporting struts wheeled under her and then the summit was nigh, so Juniper ever preserving her imaginary Flashball from the taint of hideous talons completed final footwork which would carry her to the net. Not that there was any such thing when she arrived at her destination, just a large square footbath into which she splashed shins-deep, and through which currents eternally swirled to cascade down the pipe’s other mouth, this the entrance.

It had been a sound strategy. One of the big boys bounded down behind her, as if hoping to pin her arms, which meant all Juniper had to do was deploy the part Flashsatsumas knew best.

Bump!

Her attacker was catapulted backwards down the pipe and washed the way he’d just come.

His fellow however somersaulted over Mini-Flash Juniper’s head and alighted on the edge of the bath, where the stairs ended. His ugly face wore a leer of triumph.

For perhaps there’d been a flaw in the game-plan after all.

Now if Juniper moved a muscle, he’d pounce.

He was going to do that anyway, just as soon as his friend had vacated the watercourse and the little light above the rim changed from red to green.

This was positioned over Mini-Flash Juniper’s shoulder, so she wasn’t going to be able to see it when it happened.

Checkmate.

The enemy held the high ground.

Mini-Flash Juniper looked at him, as she’d done untold numbers of other boys on actual Flashball courts back home or those intended for netball here on Earth.

Now as then, and in spite of everything about the situation, her bearing was the same.

It told her opponent he was more than welcome to try for that tackle.

Any time he liked.

The waters maintained their steady rushing roar as they flowed fast and frothy to the tunnel. Mini-Flash Juniper was starting to wish she’d gone before leaving the chalet.

Beyond her field of vision, the light turned green.

The big boy sprang.

He slid straight through Mini-Flash Juniper’s body, which had been intangible throughout, and described a perfect triple-spiral all the way to the bottom of the pool.

END OF CHAPTER THREE