UNDER THE OCEAN (Original)

Chapter One: Lake-mist's restoration

Tonight the girls and their brother were sleeping in the caravan. It had been a long wait, as dad had worked hard on the dumper for quite a few weeks. It was a big job, and if you had seen it back in September (the caravan that is,) you would have given up on her right then; but no! Dad had a vision! He saw something where nothing else, but rot could have existed. A bit of blood, sweat and tears is all It needed; apart from the new wall panels, new shelving, without the bubbled and blistered surface. Also new floorboards, and even new couches (which transformed into beds,.) Yep. It all needed to be dealt with; majorly!

No one would have survived a night in those bumpy old torture slabs without waking with aches and pains from head to toe. That was before dads mastery had taken place.

All he needed to do today was fit in the modern wardrobe, the three-way fridge and then put in the new soft cushions, the ones mum had picked out at Arthurs Emporium last week. They were made from a plush deep-blue velvet, fresh and royal-looking. The old stinker slabs were rotting, (what wasn’t?) And had previously filled the caravan with nothing less than the mustiest smells around the entire bay, Stingray Bay. Fortunately, the slabs had already found their new home in the dump.

“As soon as I get ‘Lake-mist’ finished (that is what dad had tenderly named the caravan,) you can spend the first night in it kids.” Dad made a promise a couple of weeks ago and the children eagerly anticipated its fulfillment. They would have slept in it a month ago, but dad wanted it to be absolutely complete before they were allowed. Perhaps that is why he had the couch-beds finished last.

“Dad, can I make you a cuppa?” Jasmine chanted daily in her innocent soprano voice; she considered herself to be a top restaurant waitress.

Sam wanted dad to finish ‘Lake-mist’ now and tried constantly to lend a hand. Even if it wasn’t needed, (or wanted – more to the point!). He brought tools and panels, whatever dad required. “Here you are dad. Anything else I can get you?” His steely-blue eyes constantly probed for an answer. “Here's the hammer. Anything else?” Often, Sam would receive nothing but a grunt from his busy father; still, he didn't mind.

“How long is it going to take?” Sarah complained. “When will you be finished?” The three of them would drive him nuts by not leaving poor dad alone for a moment. However, today was the big day and the excited children chatted while playing close by with the anticipation of their escapade in the ‘Lake-mist’ rushing through their veins. Now, at last, everything was finished.

The new and improved caravan gleamed in the sunshine on the lawn behind the house. It was an eighteen-footer, painted aqua-blue on the top half and silver on the bottom. The two colours made it like a sleek space station. The entrance was set to the right of the middle: where the axles stood firm on its pair of shiny-black round feet. The windows, large and slightly convex repelled the ultra-violet light with a deep-brown tint. The inside was practically laid out – dad had always been practical.

When the door was opened, (or air lock as the children had named it) you would be welcomed with automatically-lit steps. Your eye was likely to be drawn to the warm brown kitchenette and stainless bench top that held its position across the other side of the plush maroon carpet. The carpet had a soft, homely sensation for the bare feet of its guests.

Sam – no surprises here, was first in. He breathed deeply the smell of the freshly varnished walls and painted cupboards. It wasn’t unpleasant; it was friendly and carried a sense of adventure about it.

To the left, under the front window of the caravan there projected two long couches which ran down either side, parallel with the walls. They were currently turned into a big double bed – unmade, with the blankets folded neatly at the end.