Chapter Four - Trixie Investigates
Unfortunately for Trixie, she had to put her investigation on hold and, after school the following day, she and Honey were ready to be put through their spelling bee paces by an eager Mart. Honey had sensibly invited Di to join them so they knew Mart would be on his version of his best behaviour. The four teenagers were gathered around the Beldens’ kitchen table, nursing mugs of hot chocolate and nibbling on oatmeal cookies.
“Hieroglyphics,” Mart said, pointing at his sister.
“H-e-i-r-o-g-l-i—”
“Stop right there. You’ve already made two errors and you haven’t finished the word yet.”
“I’ll try,” Honey offered. “H-i-e-r-o-g-l-i—”
“You’re as bad as one another.” Mart shook his head. “I cannot see how either one of you can possibly win with form like this.”
“We’re more likely to win than you are,” Trixie said, blue eyes flashing. “We are in the competition at least.”
“Do you want my help or not?” Mart asked.
“Yes,” Honey said.
“No!” Trixie said.
They all laughed.
“Maybe you could test them both without a running commentary?” Diana suggested, her smile softening her words. “They have worked hard to get in. And you do know so many words. You’re the exact right person to help.”
“Foiled again,” Mart said. “Shall we continue, Trix?”
“We shall,” she agreed.
Mart nodded and began to fire off words one after the other. Concentrating hard, both his sister and Honey acquitted themselves well, not missing another word.
“Is that enough?” Trixie asked.
“No, I need something special, something…challenging.” Mart closed his eyes and they waited and waited.
“I’m going to eat the rest of the cookies,” Honey said when time dragged on.
“Prestidigitator!” Mart announced finally, with a flourish
Trixie rolled her eyes and Honey almost choked on a cookie crumb. “You just want us to know you can pronounce that,” the latter said, wrinkling her nose. “I bet it’s not even on the list!”
“An inconsequential, irrelevant, picayune, extraneous observation, Ms. Wheeler. How you managed to secure your, apparently insecure, positions in the finals of this prestigious lexicographic event, is beyond my ken.”
“Not surprising,” Trixie snapped. “Seeing that you can’t spell most of those words yourself.” She knew it wasn’t actually true. Mart’s spelling wasn’t as good as his vocabulary, but it wasn’t all that bad either.
Mart opened his mouth to respond but Diana spoke instead. “If you want my candied opinion, we’re here to help Trixie and Honey practice and that’s just what we should do.”
A ripple of laughter went around the table and Mart bowed in Diana’s direction. “I apologize, Ms. Lynch. Final word: facinorous.”
Trixie and Honey exchanged glances. “You made that up,” Trixie said.
Mart raised his brows.
Honey took a deep breath. “F-a-c-i-n-o-r-o-u-s.”
“Correct.” Mart nodded his approval. “But we’ve only just begun.”
“I was afraid of that,” Honey said mournfully, though her hazel eyes twinkled.
“Well I think you guys are crazy, volunteering to spell words for fun.” Di shuddered.
“I wouldn’t call it fun, exactly. And I wouldn’t call it volunteering either.” Trixie said.
Mart shrugged. “No one forced you, though I concede Honey didn’t exactly volunteer.”
“Oh, so what?” Honey gave her shoulder length hair a toss. “it’s not so bad, and it turns out we’re both smarter than we thought we were.”
“I could have told you that!” Diana declared with a hair toss of her own.
“Oh, I just remembered, I should probably fill you gals in on your newspaper assignments.” Mart snagged another cookie and leaned back in his chair. It was the first time Sleepyside High had allowed freshman to contribute to the paper and those involved were anxious to do well.
“Yes, that would be helpful.” Trixie propped her elbows on the table and met her brother’s twinkling gaze. “It had better not be due in the next couple of days.”
“Chill, sis. You’ve got three whole weeks. Your assignments, should you choose to accept them, are to interview a local merchant about their products and how seasonal buying habits impact their business. And we’re encouraged to get them to buy ads in our humble paper.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Honey said.
“I still haven’t picked mine yet. Though I do have an idea.” Diana poked Mart sharply in the arm. “I don’t know why you talked me into joining the school paper.”
“Two reasons,” Mart returned promptly. “One, you are also smarter than you think you are and two, I get to spend more time with you.”
Diana smiled. “Those are pretty good reasons.”
“I just hope we have time for this. We’ve got a pretty heavy schedule at the moment.” Trixie made a face.
“We have to, that’s all,” Honey said. “And speaking of things we have to do. I’ll need to head home soon and ride or Regan will ban me from the stables, which would be silly really, cause he’s kind of mad because we’re neglecting the horses at the moment, but banning me would make things even worse because then I wouldn’t be riding and that would mean…” she trailed off, meeting the amused gazes of Di and Mart.
“Oh, no!” Trixie clutched her sandy curls. “We don’t want Regan to be mad at us. I should come with you, but I really need to help moms get dinner ready. Why aren’t there more hours in the day?”
“Regan does understand we’re busy,” Honey assured her. “But honestly, if Dan hadn’t been willing to help out even more lately, it would have just been Jim. Brian’s had that extra project at school and….”
“And I’ve been caught up with the work on the paper, among other things,” Mart admitted. “I’ll walk Di home then come on over, Honey. Trixie is right. We don’t want Regan to be mad at us.”
“What? What did you say?” Trixie demanded.
“Nothing,” Mart said, grinning. “Now, get to your chores, little sister. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Trixie found it hard to concentrate on her chores, but eventually, after dinner and the dishes and reading to Bobby, she was able to take her shower and jump into bed. She read for a little while, savouring Lucy Radcliffe’s adventures, then turned off her bedside lamp. She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep. Suddenly her eyes flew open again. “Of course,” she whispered aloud into the darkness. “I’ll interview Carl Reid for my newspaper assignment. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it right away. It’s a perfect excuse for snooping around.” Images of all the toys she and Honey had seen flitted across her mind. They would make a great focus for her story. And the fact that Carl Reid was mysterious was an added bonus.
The following day after school, Trixie and Honey stopped at Mrs. De Keyser’s. They did a load of laundry, Trixie dusted and tidied up, and Honey took care of the dishes that had accumulated.
“I am sorry, girls,” the older woman said. “I just can’t seem to manage dishes without getting my cast wet.”
“Of course, you can’t,” Honey said. “We don’t mind at all. It’s why we’re here.”
Trixie added. “And trust me, this is nothing compared to the mess we Beldens make in the kitchen.”
“Well, when I’m better, I’m going to ask you over for a lovely afternoon tea.”
“We’d like that, wouldn’t we, Trixie?”
Trixie nodded her head. “We sure would.”
Willy who had been following Trixie around while she dusted, jumped up now, wagging his tail.
“See, Willy likes having us here, too,” Trixie said, patting his head. “I’ll just take him out for a quick run, while Honey’s putting things away.”
“Don’t be long, dear. I know it’s getting late,” Mrs. De Keyser said.
A few minutes later, the two girls had donned their jackets and left the cozy cottage. Trixie eagerly filled Honey in on her plan to interview Mr. Reid. Honey didn’t seem too sure about the idea.
“He didn’t seem too happy to talk to us the other day,” she said, wrinkling her nose slightly.
“This is different,” Trixie declared. “I’m helping him by interviewing him.”
Honey still looked doubtful, but she knew her best friend too well to argue. “I’d go with you,” she said, “but Mother and Daddy want me to have dinner with them tonight and I have a load of your brothers’ mending to do if I want to earn my BWG dues this month.”
“Lucky for you, they never stop creating mending. Have you decided who you’ll interview, Honey?” Trixie added this last a little uncertainly. It had suddenly occurred to her that, Honey, with her knowledge of and interest in antiques might have thought about interviewing the Barn’s owner herself.
“I toyed with the idea of the butcher,” Honey returned with a giggle. “But I couldn’t imagine that ad in the paper, so I’m thinking maybe Clara’s Crafts.
“That’s a great idea. I’ll see you tomorrow, Honey.”
Trixie watched her friend hurry down Glen road before crossing to the Antique Barn. To her dismay the closed sign was in place. How on earth can he make any money if he’s never open? She thought crossly. She pressed her face against the glass-paned door, peering into the darkened store. Right at the back, a faint light glowed. Trixie rang the bell and banged on the door. There was no response and she wondered if she should just give up and go home. But she was so excited about her interview idea that she just couldn’t do that. Clutching her books, she ran down the steps and around to the back of the store. Small windows were set into the barn’s walls and she looked through one and then another. The dim light she’d seen from the front door allowed her to see some of the objects in the room—a small sofa, its shape familiar to one she’d seen at the Lynches, a bureau with an old-fashioned gramophone sitting on top, and a couple of other strange items she couldn’t identify amongst the cluttered space.
She rapped sharply on the window but there was no sound or movement she could detect. It’s pointless, she thought. I might as well go home. She turned around and stifled a shriek.
“What are you doing, snooping around?” Carl Reid snarled, looming over her.
“I was just….” Trixie stammered.
“Trespassing, that’s what. Who do you think you are?” His eyes flashed and narrowed.
“I was only trying to,” Trixie began, trailing off as Carl Reid moved even closer to her.
“You quit poking around in my business, kid. Now, scram.” He pointed towards the road.
In spite of her own mounting anger, Trixie did as she was told. She ran down Glen Road, her chest tight and her thoughts whirling. He was an awful man. Maybe even a little crazy.
She raced up the drive to the farm, relieved to see its welcoming lights. Flinging open the door, she dropped her books, but didn’t even bother to remove her jacket before picking up the hall phone. Wait until Honey hears about this, she thought and dialled the Manor House number.
MAIN. NEXT
Author's Notes: Every time I work on this story and see MaryN's graphics, I can hardly believe it's on my site! They're so gorgeous. Thank you again, Mary. Continued thanks to my Jixster friends of the heart and an especial hug to Vivian. I still don't know how she found time to work this, and me, into her schedule. The first time I read this book i threw it across the room. I sincerely hope that no Jixster, or their device, is harmed in the reading of this version. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me. No monetary profit is being made from these scribblings, though they do reward me in other ways.
