Chapter Eight A Refusal and a Spelling Bee
Rated Blue Star for all ages. Some mild violence.
Even though Trixie slept for much of the return trip to Westchester County, she found she was so tired from her travels that she almost fell asleep while reading Bobby his Monday evening bedtime story. She crawled into bed early and fell into a dreamless sleep.
The following morning, she was back to normal and, as she watched her oldest brother butter his third piece of toast, she selected another piece for herself.
“Hey Brian, do you think you could help Honey and me this afternoon?”
“I don’t see why not. Though maybe I should find out what you want me to do first?”
“Honey and I have to drop off something at the Antique Barn we picked up as a favour for Mr. Reid, but it’s kind of fragile so we could use a lift.”
“Sure, I can do that. Who’s Mr. Reid? And why were you picking something up for him?”
“You know, he owns the Antique Barn.” Trixie did her best to suppress a sigh. Why didn’t her family pay more attention to what was going on around them? “And when he found out Honey and I were going to Paris he asked us to pick up a china doll for him.”
“That’s odd,” Brian said with a frown.
“Well, the doll was in Paris and so were we, so it wasn’t that odd,” Trixie observed. “Though, actually, there was something kind of odd.”
“What?” Brian sported a concerned frown at his sister’s tone.
“Maybe we can talk about it this afternoon, that way Honey can talk to you, too. You usually pay more attention to her than me.”
“I do not…fine.” Brian held up his hands, seeing the glint in his sister’s eyes. “I’ll talk to you both and drop off your doll this afternoon.”
Honey was relieved when Trixie called and explained that Brian had agreed to drive them to the Barn after school. “Thank goodness,” she said. “I was dreading carrying it on the bus and worrying about dropping it. Jim has a late class, so I knew I couldn’t ask him. Now, I can just leave it here until we get home.”
“Exactly,” Trixie agreed. “I’ll see you on the bus in ten minutes, Honey. Have to go now or Bobby will destroy something.”
The two girls only had a couple of classes together that day, and both were happy to climb aboard the bus that afternoon and head down Glen Road to their homes. Mart, Dan and Di had gone to the library, and they were the only Bob-Whites on board.
“Look,” Trixie said, pointing as the bus approached Crabapple Farm. “There’s Brian waiting for us at the bottom of the driveway. What luck. Now we don’t even have to carry our books too far.”
Honey laughed and followed her friend off the bus.
Brian drove the two girls up to the Manor House, where Honey collected the doll, still in its paper wrapped wooden box. He reached for it and frowned. “That is one heavy doll,” he said, stowing it carefully on the floor of the station wagon.
“That’s what we thought,” Honey admitted. “But it is china, not plastic, and it might be the type of wood the box is made of.”
“Probably.” Brian put the car in gear and negotiated the Wheelers’ drive before turning towards the Antique Barn. “You know, I don’t want to sound critical, but I’m not sure you should have transported something from France to here for someone you barely know.”
“What? Why?” Honey cried, alarmed. “We were given official paperwork, though.”
“I’m sure it’s all above board, then,” Brian said hastily. “If you had papers to hand in.”
“We didn’t actually hand them in,” Trixie put in.
“Oh, right.” Brian frowned. “There should really be a record of it coming in to the country, just in case.”
“I should have thought of that.” Honey chewed on her bottom lip.
“You’re not worried about…drugs or something, are you?” Trixie asked, blue eyes troubled.
“No, probably not.” Brian shifted in his seat. “I just think you shouldn’t be responsible for something you haven’t even seen.”
“Oh, but we did see it,” Honey said, ignoring the look Trixie threw her.
“You did?” Brian raised his dark brows. “X-ray vision?”
“Fine!” Trixie wrinkled her nose. “I opened it. Curious as ever.”
“And?” Brian prodded.
“And it’s a china doll. Pretty, I guess, if you like that sort of thing.” Trixie’s expression indicated that she did not.
“Well, that’s good then.” Brian said.
“Really? Mr. Honourable thinks it’s good I opened someone else’s private property.”
“I thought I was Mr. Stubborn and Jim was Mr. Honourable.”
“Your both as bad as one another,” Trixie said airily.
“Or as good,” Honey added with a smile.
Grinning, Brian eased the car into the gravel lot beside the store. “Are you two happy to deliver it yourselves, or do you want me to carry it in?”
“We’re fine, thanks,” Trixie assured him. “We won’t be too long.”
Trixie held the door to the Antique Barn open, while Honey carefully carried the box into the store. Unlike their original visit, Carl Reid appeared immediately. He seized the box from Honey’s hands, carried it to his desk and ripped off the wrapping paper—all without saying a word. He lifted out the doll, turning it over and squeezing its torso, arms and legs. Finally, he gave a satisfied smile and turned to the two teenagers.
“Is something wrong?” Honey asked. “Is she damaged in some way?”
“No. Not at all. Thank you very much. Now, I’m very busy and must get on.”
“Wait,” Honey said, reaching into the satchel she used to carry her school books. “Don’t you want the official paperwork?”
“Oh, yes, of course.” The store owner took the envelope. “I was just so excited to see her. Thank you again, young ladies.”
“You’re welcome,” Trixie said, stepping forward. “I do actually have a favour to ask of you, Mr. Reid.”
The man took a step backwards and eyed her warily. “Yes?”
“I wanted to interview you about the store for an article for our school newspaper,” Trixie explained. I thought I could feature your toys. And it would let people know about the store.”
“What? Oh, well, sorry but I have far too much to do at the moment. Some other time, perhaps. After Christmas, maybe. Good evening.” Without another word, he grabbed the doll and walked away.
The girls had no choice but to leave, though Trixie stomped her feet as she went, making her displeasure evident. They slid into the station wagon and Trixie glared back at the store.
“Of all the ungrateful grumps!” she fumed. “I did him a big favour; you’d think he could do one for me.”
“Huh?” Brian said. “What’s up now?”
“Trixie wanted to interview Mr. Reid for our newspaper assignment but he’s too busy,” Honey explained, shooting a worried glance at her best friend.
“Too busy! That’s a laugh.”
“Well, like you’ve said, he doesn’t seem to know a lot about the things in his store. The interview might not be very good,” Honey offered.
“Not the point.” Trixie snapped, frowning at her best friend.
“And not Honey’s fault,” Brian, said doing a little snapping of his own. “And from where I sit, it was really Honey who did him the favour when she took you to Paris.”
Trixie slumped in her seat. “Sorry, Hon. I’m letting my single-track mind run away with me, as usual. Brian’s right. I’m just being grumpy.”
“You’re probably a bit jet-lagged,” Honey said.
“But I don’t have that excuse,” Brian added. “I didn’t mean to jump on you, Trix.”
In spite of herself, Trixie couldn’t help but grin. “Oh, we’re used to grumpy Brian. You haven’t been eating apple-seeds, have you?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but added pertly. “You were just protecting your favorite Bob-White. No surprise there.”
Honey blushed and Brian shook his head.
“I guess I asked for that,” he said.
“Anyway, he really doesn’t seem to be an expert, Mr. Reid, I mean, so maybe it’s for
the best.” Honey said and that was the end of the conversation.
It turned out that Honey’s prediction came true. Between school, chores, homework and intense practice for the spelling bee, Trixie hardly had time to eat, let alone conduct an interview, and she barely gave the grumpy store owner a thought. Before she knew it, the weekend was upon them and Friday evening, the Bob-Whites gathered on the Lynch terrace for a casual dinner.
“Hot dogs or burgers, gang?” Di asked, as they made themselves comfortable before the roaring fire that burned in the stone fireplace.
“Both?” Mart said hopefully, and there were several nods of agreement.
“Can we have platters of both, Harrison?” Diana turned to the waiting butler.
He nodded his head approvingly. “Of course, Miss Diana. And some big bowls of potato chips and a selection of sodas as well. Shall we say, in fifteen-minutes time?”
“Wonderful,” Diana said, and Harrison left them alone.
“A fifteen-minute wait. How shall we spend our time?” Mart rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Ah, I know. How about a mini spelling bee?”
Honey gulped and Trixie groaned.
“Moms told us you two planned to study later tonight,” Brian said. “It’s actually better not to cram at the last minute.”
“You girls have been working so hard. You need to give your brains a rest before tomorrow,” Jim added.
“So, we figured we’d have aa lightning round before dinner, just to get your last- minute practice out of the way,” Dan explained.
“Good idea, I guess.” Honey turned to Trixie, who nodded in agreement.
The other BWGs had each selected a word to test the girls. Both Trixie and Honey successfully completed Dan’s, Di’s and Jim’s, which were: hegemony, interlocutor, vainglorious, arpeggio, desiccate and tungsten. They weren’t quite so lucky with Brian, whose auriferous and eleemosynary tripped up Trixie and Honey respectively. Naturally, Mart reserved the right to test them last. He leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes and frowned in concentration.
“Get a move on,” Trixie said. “We don’t have all night.”
“Do not try that on your testers tomorrow, young lady,” her almost-twin admonished. “Knowledge cannot be rushed.”
“Will you consider the fact that our burgers and hotdogs are due any minute?” Honey begged.
“That I will allow to hasten my choices.” Mart’s eyes flew open and he fixed the two girls with a stern expression. “Speller Wheeler, your word is insouciance.”
Honey took a deep breath. “I-n-s-o-u-c-i-a-n-c-e–Insouciance.”
Mart hesitated before nodding his head. “Correct.” He turned to his sister. “Speller Belden, your word is pulchritude.”
Trixie squared her shoulders. “P-u-l-c-h-r-i-t-u-d-e. Pulchritude.”
Her brother took even longer to respond to her effort. Finally, he shook his head ruefully. “You are, I’m afraid, quite correct.”
“You should be afraid.” Trixie sniffed, though her blue eyes twinkled.
“I feel bad now,” Brian admitted.
“Why?” Trixie demanded. “We’re not going to get special treatment tomorrow. I think we did okay.”
“Me, too,” Honey agreed. “There’s no way we’ll win. I’ll just be happy if I’m able to spell a couple of words before losing my ability to speak, altogether.”
“You’ll do fine, Sis,” Jim said, throwing her an affectionate smile. “You both will,” he reached across to squeeze Trixie’s hand as he spoke.
At that moment, the door opened and Harrison appeared, followed by one of the Lynch maids. They deposited a tray of hamburger and hot dog filled buns and another with a large bowl of potato chips and a variety of sodas and juices. There was also mustard, ketchup and barbecue sauce.
“Thank you, Harrison. Thanks, Mary. This looks delicious,” Di said.
“Ambrosia,” Mart declared, helping himself to a hot dog, and squeezing mustard across its length.
“I’d spell that for you,” Trixie offered, “but I’m way too hungry.”
“Let’s drink to Trixie and Honey,” Dan said, raising his soda.
There was a chorus of agreement, and then everyone turned their attention to dinner.
It was early the next morning that Tom ferried Honey, Miss Trask, Trixie, and her mother to the station so they could take the train into New York City. The contest was being held at the Sheraton Hotel, and after they’d followed the signs and taken the elevator up to the appropriate floor, two very nervous girls took their places and waited to be called to the stage.
When their respective turns came, each girl managed several words, speaking clearly and calmly, before cheongsam saw Trixie exit the competition and baccalaureate defeated Honey.
“I was so nervous, I was worried I couldn’t even spell my own name,” Honey said with a shudder as Miss Trask shepherded her through the crowd and towards the exit.
Trixie nodded vigorously, setting her curls bouncing. “And every word just seemed to echo and bounce around the room. I’m glad it’s over. We never thought we’d win anyway.”
Helen Belden squeezed her daughter’s shoulder.
“Well, winning isn’t everything.” Miss Trask’s blue eyes twinkled.
“You learn more when you fail than when you win,” Honey intoned, and they all laughed.
“That is true,” Miss Trask admitted. “Not that today was a failure.”
“Not at all,” Mrs. Belden affirmed. “I’m proud of both of you. Some of those words were terrifying.”
“Thanks, Moms. I’m just glad we don’t have to keep spelling aloud anymore.”
Honey nodded. “I’d started spelling in my dreams.”
“And I kept wanting to spell every time I heard a random stranger use a difficult word,” Trixie confessed. The group had cleared the auditorium now, and were headed towards the elevators. “You remember that couple in the café, Honey?”
“Diaphanous and voluminous,” Honey chuckled. “I think they were talking about clothes…negligees or something.”
“Yes, I myself, am considering diaphanous and voluminous pajamas.” Trixie did her best to keep a straight face,but once she caught Honey’s eye, the two started to giggle. By the time the group had entered the elevator, they were clutching their sides and laughing in earnest.
“I think these two might be a little light headed,” Miss Trask noted with a smile. “Perhaps they need some sustenance.”
“Very probably,” Trixie’s mother agreed. “I know Trixie didn’t eat much for breakfast this morning.”
“Nor did Honey.”
“What do you say, girls?” Miss Trask asked as the doors opened and they stepped into the lobby.
“I am kind of hungry,” Honey admitted. “What about you, Trix?”
Trixie was busy scanning the lobby. There was such a diverse range of people—it was one of the things, she liked about New York, watching everyone and imagining who they were and what they did. She was about to answer Honey when out of the corner of her eyes, she saw someone. Someone unexpected and unwelcome. She grabbed Honey’s arm and drew her closer.
“Oh, no. I can’t believe it. It can’t be him.”
Author's notes: I think I'm wearing out the word thank you when it comes to Vivian and Deanna, but hopefully they know it is said with utter sincerity. Thanks also to those who continue to read, putting up with my erratic posting when there is no real excuse. I obtained all of the words featured here from an actual spelling bee site. Glad I never had to deal with them. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me, though it would be fun if they let us rewrite the lesser volumes and then put them up against the originals. Absolutely no monetary profit is being made from these scribblings. They are fun though.
MAIN NEXT
Even though Trixie slept for much of the return trip to Westchester County, she found she was so tired from her travels that she almost fell asleep while reading Bobby his Monday evening bedtime story. She crawled into bed early and fell into a dreamless sleep.
The following morning, she was back to normal and, as she watched her oldest brother butter his third piece of toast, she selected another piece for herself.
“Hey Brian, do you think you could help Honey and me this afternoon?”
“I don’t see why not. Though maybe I should find out what you want me to do first?”
“Honey and I have to drop off something at the Antique Barn we picked up as a favour for Mr. Reid, but it’s kind of fragile so we could use a lift.”
“Sure, I can do that. Who’s Mr. Reid? And why were you picking something up for him?”
“You know, he owns the Antique Barn.” Trixie did her best to suppress a sigh. Why didn’t her family pay more attention to what was going on around them? “And when he found out Honey and I were going to Paris he asked us to pick up a china doll for him.”
“That’s odd,” Brian said with a frown.
“Well, the doll was in Paris and so were we, so it wasn’t that odd,” Trixie observed. “Though, actually, there was something kind of odd.”
“What?” Brian sported a concerned frown at his sister’s tone.
“Maybe we can talk about it this afternoon, that way Honey can talk to you, too. You usually pay more attention to her than me.”
“I do not…fine.” Brian held up his hands, seeing the glint in his sister’s eyes. “I’ll talk to you both and drop off your doll this afternoon.”
Honey was relieved when Trixie called and explained that Brian had agreed to drive them to the Barn after school. “Thank goodness,” she said. “I was dreading carrying it on the bus and worrying about dropping it. Jim has a late class, so I knew I couldn’t ask him. Now, I can just leave it here until we get home.”
“Exactly,” Trixie agreed. “I’ll see you on the bus in ten minutes, Honey. Have to go now or Bobby will destroy something.”
The two girls only had a couple of classes together that day, and both were happy to climb aboard the bus that afternoon and head down Glen Road to their homes. Mart, Dan and Di had gone to the library, and they were the only Bob-Whites on board.
“Look,” Trixie said, pointing as the bus approached Crabapple Farm. “There’s Brian waiting for us at the bottom of the driveway. What luck. Now we don’t even have to carry our books too far.”
Honey laughed and followed her friend off the bus.
Brian drove the two girls up to the Manor House, where Honey collected the doll, still in its paper wrapped wooden box. He reached for it and frowned. “That is one heavy doll,” he said, stowing it carefully on the floor of the station wagon.
“That’s what we thought,” Honey admitted. “But it is china, not plastic, and it might be the type of wood the box is made of.”
“Probably.” Brian put the car in gear and negotiated the Wheelers’ drive before turning towards the Antique Barn. “You know, I don’t want to sound critical, but I’m not sure you should have transported something from France to here for someone you barely know.”
“What? Why?” Honey cried, alarmed. “We were given official paperwork, though.”
“I’m sure it’s all above board, then,” Brian said hastily. “If you had papers to hand in.”
“We didn’t actually hand them in,” Trixie put in.
“Oh, right.” Brian frowned. “There should really be a record of it coming in to the country, just in case.”
“I should have thought of that.” Honey chewed on her bottom lip.
“You’re not worried about…drugs or something, are you?” Trixie asked, blue eyes troubled.
“No, probably not.” Brian shifted in his seat. “I just think you shouldn’t be responsible for something you haven’t even seen.”
“Oh, but we did see it,” Honey said, ignoring the look Trixie threw her.
“You did?” Brian raised his dark brows. “X-ray vision?”
“Fine!” Trixie wrinkled her nose. “I opened it. Curious as ever.”
“And?” Brian prodded.
“And it’s a china doll. Pretty, I guess, if you like that sort of thing.” Trixie’s expression indicated that she did not.
“Well, that’s good then.” Brian said.
“Really? Mr. Honourable thinks it’s good I opened someone else’s private property.”
“I thought I was Mr. Stubborn and Jim was Mr. Honourable.”
“Your both as bad as one another,” Trixie said airily.
“Or as good,” Honey added with a smile.
Grinning, Brian eased the car into the gravel lot beside the store. “Are you two happy to deliver it yourselves, or do you want me to carry it in?”
“We’re fine, thanks,” Trixie assured him. “We won’t be too long.”
Trixie held the door to the Antique Barn open, while Honey carefully carried the box into the store. Unlike their original visit, Carl Reid appeared immediately. He seized the box from Honey’s hands, carried it to his desk and ripped off the wrapping paper—all without saying a word. He lifted out the doll, turning it over and squeezing its torso, arms and legs. Finally, he gave a satisfied smile and turned to the two teenagers.
“Is something wrong?” Honey asked. “Is she damaged in some way?”
“No. Not at all. Thank you very much. Now, I’m very busy and must get on.”
“Wait,” Honey said, reaching into the satchel she used to carry her school books. “Don’t you want the official paperwork?”
“Oh, yes, of course.” The store owner took the envelope. “I was just so excited to see her. Thank you again, young ladies.”
“You’re welcome,” Trixie said, stepping forward. “I do actually have a favour to ask of you, Mr. Reid.”
The man took a step backwards and eyed her warily. “Yes?”
“I wanted to interview you about the store for an article for our school newspaper,” Trixie explained. I thought I could feature your toys. And it would let people know about the store.”
“What? Oh, well, sorry but I have far too much to do at the moment. Some other time, perhaps. After Christmas, maybe. Good evening.” Without another word, he grabbed the doll and walked away.
The girls had no choice but to leave, though Trixie stomped her feet as she went, making her displeasure evident. They slid into the station wagon and Trixie glared back at the store.
“Of all the ungrateful grumps!” she fumed. “I did him a big favour; you’d think he could do one for me.”
“Huh?” Brian said. “What’s up now?”
“Trixie wanted to interview Mr. Reid for our newspaper assignment but he’s too busy,” Honey explained, shooting a worried glance at her best friend.
“Too busy! That’s a laugh.”
“Well, like you’ve said, he doesn’t seem to know a lot about the things in his store. The interview might not be very good,” Honey offered.
“Not the point.” Trixie snapped, frowning at her best friend.
“And not Honey’s fault,” Brian, said doing a little snapping of his own. “And from where I sit, it was really Honey who did him the favour when she took you to Paris.”
Trixie slumped in her seat. “Sorry, Hon. I’m letting my single-track mind run away with me, as usual. Brian’s right. I’m just being grumpy.”
“You’re probably a bit jet-lagged,” Honey said.
“But I don’t have that excuse,” Brian added. “I didn’t mean to jump on you, Trix.”
In spite of herself, Trixie couldn’t help but grin. “Oh, we’re used to grumpy Brian. You haven’t been eating apple-seeds, have you?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but added pertly. “You were just protecting your favorite Bob-White. No surprise there.”
Honey blushed and Brian shook his head.
“I guess I asked for that,” he said.
“Anyway, he really doesn’t seem to be an expert, Mr. Reid, I mean, so maybe it’s for
the best.” Honey said and that was the end of the conversation.
It turned out that Honey’s prediction came true. Between school, chores, homework and intense practice for the spelling bee, Trixie hardly had time to eat, let alone conduct an interview, and she barely gave the grumpy store owner a thought. Before she knew it, the weekend was upon them and Friday evening, the Bob-Whites gathered on the Lynch terrace for a casual dinner.
“Hot dogs or burgers, gang?” Di asked, as they made themselves comfortable before the roaring fire that burned in the stone fireplace.
“Both?” Mart said hopefully, and there were several nods of agreement.
“Can we have platters of both, Harrison?” Diana turned to the waiting butler.
He nodded his head approvingly. “Of course, Miss Diana. And some big bowls of potato chips and a selection of sodas as well. Shall we say, in fifteen-minutes time?”
“Wonderful,” Diana said, and Harrison left them alone.
“A fifteen-minute wait. How shall we spend our time?” Mart rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Ah, I know. How about a mini spelling bee?”
Honey gulped and Trixie groaned.
“Moms told us you two planned to study later tonight,” Brian said. “It’s actually better not to cram at the last minute.”
“You girls have been working so hard. You need to give your brains a rest before tomorrow,” Jim added.
“So, we figured we’d have aa lightning round before dinner, just to get your last- minute practice out of the way,” Dan explained.
“Good idea, I guess.” Honey turned to Trixie, who nodded in agreement.
The other BWGs had each selected a word to test the girls. Both Trixie and Honey successfully completed Dan’s, Di’s and Jim’s, which were: hegemony, interlocutor, vainglorious, arpeggio, desiccate and tungsten. They weren’t quite so lucky with Brian, whose auriferous and eleemosynary tripped up Trixie and Honey respectively. Naturally, Mart reserved the right to test them last. He leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes and frowned in concentration.
“Get a move on,” Trixie said. “We don’t have all night.”
“Do not try that on your testers tomorrow, young lady,” her almost-twin admonished. “Knowledge cannot be rushed.”
“Will you consider the fact that our burgers and hotdogs are due any minute?” Honey begged.
“That I will allow to hasten my choices.” Mart’s eyes flew open and he fixed the two girls with a stern expression. “Speller Wheeler, your word is insouciance.”
Honey took a deep breath. “I-n-s-o-u-c-i-a-n-c-e–Insouciance.”
Mart hesitated before nodding his head. “Correct.” He turned to his sister. “Speller Belden, your word is pulchritude.”
Trixie squared her shoulders. “P-u-l-c-h-r-i-t-u-d-e. Pulchritude.”
Her brother took even longer to respond to her effort. Finally, he shook his head ruefully. “You are, I’m afraid, quite correct.”
“You should be afraid.” Trixie sniffed, though her blue eyes twinkled.
“I feel bad now,” Brian admitted.
“Why?” Trixie demanded. “We’re not going to get special treatment tomorrow. I think we did okay.”
“Me, too,” Honey agreed. “There’s no way we’ll win. I’ll just be happy if I’m able to spell a couple of words before losing my ability to speak, altogether.”
“You’ll do fine, Sis,” Jim said, throwing her an affectionate smile. “You both will,” he reached across to squeeze Trixie’s hand as he spoke.
At that moment, the door opened and Harrison appeared, followed by one of the Lynch maids. They deposited a tray of hamburger and hot dog filled buns and another with a large bowl of potato chips and a variety of sodas and juices. There was also mustard, ketchup and barbecue sauce.
“Thank you, Harrison. Thanks, Mary. This looks delicious,” Di said.
“Ambrosia,” Mart declared, helping himself to a hot dog, and squeezing mustard across its length.
“I’d spell that for you,” Trixie offered, “but I’m way too hungry.”
“Let’s drink to Trixie and Honey,” Dan said, raising his soda.
There was a chorus of agreement, and then everyone turned their attention to dinner.
It was early the next morning that Tom ferried Honey, Miss Trask, Trixie, and her mother to the station so they could take the train into New York City. The contest was being held at the Sheraton Hotel, and after they’d followed the signs and taken the elevator up to the appropriate floor, two very nervous girls took their places and waited to be called to the stage.
When their respective turns came, each girl managed several words, speaking clearly and calmly, before cheongsam saw Trixie exit the competition and baccalaureate defeated Honey.
“I was so nervous, I was worried I couldn’t even spell my own name,” Honey said with a shudder as Miss Trask shepherded her through the crowd and towards the exit.
Trixie nodded vigorously, setting her curls bouncing. “And every word just seemed to echo and bounce around the room. I’m glad it’s over. We never thought we’d win anyway.”
Helen Belden squeezed her daughter’s shoulder.
“Well, winning isn’t everything.” Miss Trask’s blue eyes twinkled.
“You learn more when you fail than when you win,” Honey intoned, and they all laughed.
“That is true,” Miss Trask admitted. “Not that today was a failure.”
“Not at all,” Mrs. Belden affirmed. “I’m proud of both of you. Some of those words were terrifying.”
“Thanks, Moms. I’m just glad we don’t have to keep spelling aloud anymore.”
Honey nodded. “I’d started spelling in my dreams.”
“And I kept wanting to spell every time I heard a random stranger use a difficult word,” Trixie confessed. The group had cleared the auditorium now, and were headed towards the elevators. “You remember that couple in the café, Honey?”
“Diaphanous and voluminous,” Honey chuckled. “I think they were talking about clothes…negligees or something.”
“Yes, I myself, am considering diaphanous and voluminous pajamas.” Trixie did her best to keep a straight face,but once she caught Honey’s eye, the two started to giggle. By the time the group had entered the elevator, they were clutching their sides and laughing in earnest.
“I think these two might be a little light headed,” Miss Trask noted with a smile. “Perhaps they need some sustenance.”
“Very probably,” Trixie’s mother agreed. “I know Trixie didn’t eat much for breakfast this morning.”
“Nor did Honey.”
“What do you say, girls?” Miss Trask asked as the doors opened and they stepped into the lobby.
“I am kind of hungry,” Honey admitted. “What about you, Trix?”
Trixie was busy scanning the lobby. There was such a diverse range of people—it was one of the things, she liked about New York, watching everyone and imagining who they were and what they did. She was about to answer Honey when out of the corner of her eyes, she saw someone. Someone unexpected and unwelcome. She grabbed Honey’s arm and drew her closer.
“Oh, no. I can’t believe it. It can’t be him.”
Author's notes: I think I'm wearing out the word thank you when it comes to Vivian and Deanna, but hopefully they know it is said with utter sincerity. Thanks also to those who continue to read, putting up with my erratic posting when there is no real excuse. I obtained all of the words featured here from an actual spelling bee site. Glad I never had to deal with them. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me, though it would be fun if they let us rewrite the lesser volumes and then put them up against the originals. Absolutely no monetary profit is being made from these scribblings. They are fun though.
MAIN NEXT
