Chapter One - The Doctor's Request

 
 
“Oh, not again!” Trixie Belden’s books lay strewn upon the stairs of Sleepyside Junior High and she scrambled to gather her papers as her fellow students raced by, celebrating the end of the school day without giving her a second glance.
            She pushed an unruly sandy curl away from her forehead and got to her feet, her books and papers returned to order—more or less. “That’s the second time today. Being neat and organized is harder than it looks,” she said irritably. “For me, anyway,” she added, as her best friend Honey Wheeler failed to stifle her laugh. Neatness and organization seemed to come naturally to Honey—her books, her appearance— even her room,—which was so neat it barely required any attention from Celia, the Wheelers’ maid.  As for organization—Honey was very rarely late with her homework or to BWG meetings.
            “You have other, more important qualities.” Honey regarded her friend affectionately. “And don’t forget neatness and organization were drilled into me at boarding school and camp. I’ll take a little Trixie chaos any day. Come on, we should get a move on.” She led the way out of the school and into the almost blinding afternoon sunshine.
            “Finally!”
            The two girls turned around to face Trixie’s brother Mart, who, at just eleven months older, was often referred to as her almost twin.
            “Procrastinating in the halls is hardly a sign of mental acuity.”
            Trixie grinned at his mocking tone—she was used to his teasing. “Is Moms here waiting for us?”
            “Moms?” Mart’s sandy brows lifted in surprise. “Why is Moms picking you up? And, why aren’t you coming to the newspaper staff meeting?”
            “Bobby has to have his check-up,” Trixie returned. “And you know what he’s been like since his last injection when they didn’t get the needle in until the third try.  He flatly refused to go unless Honey and I went along too.”
            “So, can you explain why we can’t be there?” Honey asked sweetly. “And get our assignments, if there are any?”
            “Your wish is my command, Ms. Wheeler.” Mart bowed with a flourish. “Upon reflection, I do recall a visit to Dr. Ferris being bruited about over breakfast.” He gave his sister a condescending pat on the head and disappeared from sight.
            “There they are!” Honey cried, after scanning the car park again. She and Trixie dashed to the Belden station wagon.
 
            Helen Belden greeted her daughter and Honey with a smile, as they climbed into the car, but seven-year-old Bobby’s usually cherubic smile was missing, and even when Honey, who was one of his favorite people dropped a kiss on his head, his grumpy expression did not alter.
            “You should have taken even longer,” he declared. “But maybe I’ve missed my appointment already.”
            “Sorry, Bobby. We still have lots of time.” Mrs. Belden smothered a smile as she turned the key in the ignition.
            Before she could put the car into gear, it was surrounded by four teenagers, wearing matching red jackets.
            “We just wanted to give Bobby a special Bob White send-off.” Seventeen-year-old Brian Belden leaned in through the open window and ruffled his little brother’s curls. “He’s in good hands.”
            “Of course, he is. Doc Ferris looks after all of us,” Jim added.
            “Even Mr. Maypenny goes to Doc Ferris.” Dan leaned against the station wagon and smiled down at Bobby.
            “Larry and Terry had their check-up yesterday,” Diana, said, referring to her twin brothers who were Bobby’s age. “And everything was just fine.”
            “Well, it won’t be fine if we miss the appointment.” Mrs. Belden tapped the steering wheel with a slim finger. “Or if you miss the school bus.”
            “Okay, moms. We’ll see you guys later.” Brian drew back and he and the others turned and walked off towards the bus stop.
 
            Trixie watched them go, admiring the cross-stitched “BWG” that graced the back of each jacket, handmade by Honey. The Bob-Whites of the Glen was a semi-secret club they all belonged to. Living a couple of miles out of town, the group wasn’t always able to join in with after school activities and they’d formed the club just after Honey moved to Sleepyside and her family adopted Jim.
            “I’m so glad I’m a Bob-White,” Trixie said, as they headed down the road. She caught her mother’s bemused gaze in the rear-vision mirror and shrugged.
            “Me, too.” Honey squeezed her friend’s hand. “We’re really lucky.”
            “Yes, you are,” Helen Belden agreed. “But you also work very hard—all of you.” She eased the station wagon into a car space as she spoke, and its occupants piled out.
Bobby hung back, but Honey scooped him up and carried him into the Doctor’s office, dropping kisses on his neck.
            Bobby giggled and squirmed. “Kissing tickles.”
            “It also distracts, and possibly causes serious spinal injuries,” Trixie hissed, shaking her head at her best friend. “He weighs a ton.”
            “Do not.” Bobby said, though he was laughing now.
            “You might think about a career in medicine, Miss Wheeler.” Doctor Ferris stuck his head around the office door, pleased with what he saw. “Putting the patient at ease is a big part of general practice.”
            “Oh, no.” Honey flushed and shook her own dark gold head. “I’ll leave that to Brian. Besides Trixie and I are going to be detectives.”
            The doctor smiled. “How could I forget?”
            “I wish I could,” Mrs. Belden said.
 Trixie knew her mom sometimes wished they’d chosen a less dangerous career path.
            “So, Master Belden.” Doctor Ferris smiled at Bobby. “You seem to have grown feet rather than inches in the past few months. Shall we measure and check to see if you’re Westchester County’s fastest growing young man?”
            Bobby slid reluctantly off his chair and, keeping a tight hold of Honey’s hand, followed his mother and sister into the examination room.
            Bobby bore his examination bravely and heaved a sigh of relief, releasing Honey’s hand, when the Doctor announced he was done.
            “You know, I was wondering if you two girls might do me a favor?” the Doctor asked. “I have a patient, Agnes De Keyser, who could do with a helping hand. She slipped and broke her arm the other day, which means she’ll have a hard time doing some chores. She doesn’t need a nurse, just a little light housework. What do you think? Can you handle it?”
            “Of course. It wouldn’t be a problem at all.” Trixie returned swiftly, though just for a moment she imagined herself heroically nursing a dangerously ill person back to health.          
            “Are you sure you have time?” Mrs Belden eyed her enthusiastic daughter with a mixture of pride and concern. “What about the spelling bee and homework?”
            “Oh that, gleeps, Moms.” Trixie’s sandy curls bounced. “I’ll still have time for some light housework. I mean, I’ve had lots of practice.”
            Her mother laughed.
            “And with both of us, it won’t take up too much time at all,” Honey added. “I’m sure the school bus can make an extra stop and drop us off on our way home.”
            “And, we can study while we work. How’s that for efficient?” Trixie beamed.
            “I knew I could count on you two.” Doctor Ferris smiled approvingly. “I’ll make sure to write a letter for your school files.”
            “Oh, no.” Trixie and Honey chorused.
            “You don’t need to do that,” Trixie added. “We don’t mind helping.”
            “I know that,” the older man returned. “But you’ll be applying for college before we can turn around. These things can make a difference.”
            Both girls turned to Mrs Belden, who nodded her head in approval. “Mrs De Keyser lives right near that new antique store that’s opened on Glen Road, doesn’t she, Doctor?” she said.
            “That’s right,” Doctor Ferris returned.
            “Oh, in that quaint old barn,” Honey said. “We’ve been saying we’d like to take a look, haven’t we, Trixie?”
            Trixie nodded. “And it’s right next door, so now we can.”
            “Should we stop by this evening?” Honey asked. “Or can it wait until tomorrow?”
            “Tomorrow will be fine. I’ll let her know to expect you.” The doctor ushered the group to the door. “And you keep on eating all that nourishing food, young man, so you can grow up big and strong.”
            “Like your sister.” Trixie flexed her arm muscle and Bobby giggled.
           
“I’m Superman!” he yelled as they scrambled into the car.
            “Does that make me Supergirl?”  Trixie asked.
            “Nah.” Bobby shook his head. “Honey’s Supergirl.”
            “I am?” Honey looked delighted.
            “Well, who am I? Wonder woman?”
            “No. Mart says Di should be Wonder Woman, maybe next Halloween.”
            “Of course, he does.” Trixie couldn’t help but grin. “So, what about me? Don’t make me be Robin, the boy wonder, please.”
            “You’re not a boy.” Bobby rolled his eyes. “Maybe Batgirl.” He thought for a moment. “Maybe, Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”
            “Bobby! When did you see Buffy?” Helen Belden demanded as the car turned back onto Main street.
            “Don’t forget the grocery store, Moms,” Bobby said, wisely changing the subject. “You told me to remind you.”
            “Yes, I did. I’m out of onions. Though you and I will be discussing viewing habits at some point, young man.” Just as she was about to pull into the one vacant spot in front of the supermarket, another car cut across her and shot into the space. Mrs Belden jammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding a collision. “What a–!” Helen Belden drew a deep, steadying breath. “Well, that was an example of how not to drive, girls. I’ll pull in over here instead.”
            “Did you see who it was, Moms?” Trixie asked.
            “Not really,” her mother returned. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t be long.” She slid out of the wagon and, after looking both ways, hurried across to the store.
            “Now we can play ‘Name that Car’,” Bobby said enthusiastically.
            “Yay!” Trixie agreed, shooting Honey a knowing look. Neither of them were especially good at this game, which Brian had taught Bobby, but after Bobby’s check-up, it only seemed fair that they play.
            “That’s a Ford!” Bobby yelled, gesturing. “And that’s a Bee-yoo-ick!”
            “Go, Brian.” Trixie muttered.
            “You’re absolutely right, Bobby,” Honey said. Winking at Trixie, she leaned over to whisper in Bobby’s ear. “Bobby, when you play this game with us, you’re always right. Do you know why?”
            “Yes. Because you don’t know the names of any of the cars, and I know all of them, that’s why.”
            “That’s right,” Honey confirmed, though Trixie spluttered a protest. “So, how,” Honey continued, “would we know when you make a mistake?”
            Bobby patted Honey’s arm and smiled happily. “I never make a mistake.”
            “Thanks, Mart.” Trixie couldn’t help but smile.
            Bobby frowned, his expression suggesting that he was wondering what was wrong with his big sister, but before he could speak, Trixie grabbed Honey’s arm.
            “What about that one, the car that cut Moms off.” She pointed to the sleek, maroon sedan still parked across the street.
            “That’s a Mercedes-Benz! Neat-o.” Bobby did his best to whistle but only succeeded in blowing out air.
            At that moment, Mrs. Belden emerged from the grocery store. She was walking behind a man, his hat pulled down low over his face. The collar of his coat was turned up.
            “That’s a camel hair coat,” Honey exclaimed, following Trixie’s gaze. “I may not know cars but I do know clothes.”
            The man got into the Mercedes-Benz and immediately began to back out into on-coming traffic, amid an explosion of car horns.
            Trixie’s mother slipped back into the station wagon, handing a bag of onions to Honey.
“Honestly, I can’t imagine why that man is in such a hurry. He even pushed ahead of me at the check-out counter.”
            “Who is he?” Trixie asked. “Does he live in Sleepyside?”
            “According to the cashier, he’s the man who’s just opened the new Antique Barn,” her mother returned as she put the car into gear.
            “Well, he sure has a nice car,” Trixie noted, as she watched it drive away.  “I guess there’s a lot of money in antiques. We should probably have an annual antique fair. The last one did pretty well.”
            Honey’s well shaped brows shot up. “We were lucky, Trixie. It was a good cause and a lot of people were very generous, both with donations and loans. It wouldn’t be that easy if we did it regularly. Besides, we did not make anywhere near enough money to buy a Mercedes— they’re worth a lot of money.”
            “You know, you’re right.” Trixie’s blue eyes narrowed. “I’ll just bet there’s something about that man and his antique business. Something….”
            “…mysterious,” she and Honey chorused before collapsing in a fit of giggles.
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Author's Notes: My whole aim with this retelling is to Trixiefy this story. I called it a re-edit because I believe, or at least I hope, that being edited by someone who a) cared about the series and the characters  and/or b) had actually read the series and knew the characters, might make it bearable. When i reached out to some of my bestest Trixie friends they immediately offered to edit/comment and support. Thank you to Dana, Deanna and Susan who all responded to me and offered thoughts and encouragement, and caught some of my errors/weirdness, and a huge shout out to Vivian who edited/commented/improved and persisted with me, my flaws, my foibles and my inability to stay out of people's heads. The gorgeous title banner is courtesy of the super-talented MaryN. I won it during Jixanny and it is perfectly perfect. I love and value you all. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me, though frankly this particular volume calls some of that ownership into question. no profit is being made from these scribblings.