It was a very interesting part of a book the Captain was reading when he heard a bemused Tintin's voice from the doorway behind him.
"Captain…?" it called uncertainly.
"Yes?" said the Captain, not taking his eyes off the page.
He didn't hear a reply, so he decided that Tintin had changed his mind about talking to him and kept on reading.
"Captain…?"
"Ye-es...?" repeated the Captain, matching Tintin's tone.
"What is it?" he said when there was still no answer. He looked over his shoulder and, seeing no one, returned to his book.
"Captain…?" came the voice again not a few moments later.
"Yes! What is it?" the Captain snapped, turning around. Still, there was nobody behind him. After a minute or so of not knowing what to think, the Captain reluctantly put his book aside and went to investigate.
-:-
The passageway outside the room was empty and the floor squeaked under his shoes. No sign of Tintin at all. What on Earth could he be up to now?
The Captain pondered for a while on whether to walk up or down the corridor to look for him. Just when he'd made a decision, there it was again, "Captain…?", right in his ear.
"Thundering typhoons!" bellowed the Captain, jumping about a foot in the air. "Cuthbert, you scoundrel of a bashi-bazouk…"
"He he he!" chuckled Professor Calculus. He was hefting a strange bulky contraption from which extended what looked to be the hearing end of a telephone.
"Fan-tas-tic!" he declared triumphantly while the Captain attempted to take a mental inventory of all the telephones in the house. "It works even better this time, listen!"
The Captain dodged out of the way of the half-telephone that Calculus was brandishing in his direction. "By thunder, stop testing it on me! That's the third time this week. And it's only Tuesday!"
"No, no," the Professor corrected him. "It only plays back what it records for the moment, but soon it will be able to synthesise. I don't know what to call it yet but I promise to give you full credit for helping me…"
-:-
After assuring the Professor that he was satisfied with full credit (at least, that was what the Professor believed he was doing), Captain Haddock was seated back in his chair, trying to find his page.
"Captain…?"
By thunder, again? So soon? The Captain snorted and continued looking for his page. Three times was enough. He wasn't going to be Cuthbert's guinea pig any more today if he could help it.
"Captain…have you seen my shirt? I think I've lost it."
The Captain froze. It really was Tintin this time.
"Oh! It's you."
"Yes, it's me."
"Erm…"
"Have you seen it anywhere?"
"No, I don't think so…" replied the Captain uncomfortably, staring at his book though the words suddenly didn't make sense any more. Lost his shirt? Blistering barnacles, how did he manage that? "Er…Which shirt is it?" he said carefully.
"The blue one. You know, the one."
The Captain made up his mind to turn around and did so stiffly. There was Tintin in the doorway, looking oddly underdressed in white shirtsleeves and a collar.
"You mean your pullover? But you must have about a dozen of those!"
"No, not as many as that. I do have a few, but they're all different."
The Captain raised his eyebrows. "Different? How do you mean?"
"Well…" Tintin said, seeming to have difficulty deciding where to start. "I have one that's especially thick. It's wonderful during the winter but I packed it to Spain once and nearly suffocated…And then there's another one in a lighter shade than all the others with sleeves that cling and keep falling down whenever I roll them up. It's a bit annoying. There's also…"
"N-never mind, I understand. So why are you looking for this particular one?"
"Because I can't find it," stated Tintin matter-of-factly.
Obviously. The Captain managed to not roll his eyes.
"Other than that?" he pressed on, trying to be patient.
Tintin shrugged. "It's my favourite."
-:-
Tintin was sure he had laid his shirt out ready for himself before going for his bath even though it wasn't there when he was done, so they went over his bedroom twice. They did the same for the Captain's, although the bright baby-blue and sky colours of Tintin's shirts would have stood out like a beacon against anything in the Captain's closet. They looked in every room of the house, which took some time, and asked Nestor if he knew anything about it. He didn't, of course.
They even went into Professor Calculus' laboratory, just in case he had taken into his head to try to synthesise blue dye as well as voices. Needless to say, the Professor was delighted that they had come to help him test his machine. By the end of their session with Calculus, the Captain's mood was coming alarmingly close to dangerous, and that was when Tintin insisted they give up the search.
The Captain wasn't too happy about it. "What, but why should we stop now? We've been searching all evening, thundering typhoons!"
"But that's exactly why we should stop," said Tintin reasonably as he waved his arms around in what was not a very effective calming gesture. The Captain tried to calm down anyway, as that was clearly what Tintin wanted. Tintin continued reasoning, "You…We need a break."
"I don't need a break, I'm not tired!"
"No, no you're not," Tintin agreed quickly. "But…I am. And it won't be fair if you keep searching without me."
"I don't mind, honestly. I could check my room again."
"It wouldn't be there. Where's your book, Captain? You were reading it just now."
The Captain dismissed the change of subject with an impatient flick of his hand. "Never mind my book, it's your favourite shirt, for goodness' sake! Come on, we haven't looked in the attic yet…"
"Please, Captain!" Tintin exclaimed, sounding a trifle exasperated though his face, as per usual, betrayed no such emotion. "It doesn't matter that much - I must have about a dozen others, don't worry. I'll just make do with yellow for today."
There was quite a long pause during which the Captain debated with himself as to whether he had any more say in the matter, but he finally resigned with a sigh. "If you insist," he said grumpily.
-:-
"It's been a while since I've worn this," observed Tintin, inspecting his sunny vest in a mirror.
Captain Haddock declined to comment. It didn't fit very well, in his opinion. Tintin had actually grown a bit over the years.
"So what do you think happened to your shirt?" he chose to ask instead.
"Who knows?" said Tintin indifferently. He was still preoccupied with adjusting his slightly too-small vest. "I probably left it in an airport somewhere."
-:-
Outside in a shady corner of the porch, Snowy stretched, yawned, and settled back down onto a blanket - a lovely blue shirt-shaped blanket that he had so conveniently found on the bed while Tintin was in the bathroom that evening.
The Adventures of Tintin and Snowy was created by Hergé and now, I think, belongs to Moulinsart.
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